Five Knives Story

Camilla

Name: Shira Omuraliev

Id number: -05

Birth: October 19th, 1991

Arrival: February 4th, 2000

Gender: Female

Room number: 5

Nationality: American

Specialities: Transformation

Languages spoken: English.

History: Born in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania to Aibek and Azra Omuraliev. Has two siblings, her twin sister Dinara and younger brother Devin whom she has not met. Started using her powers in late 1999 and joined the Organization a couple months later.

That was all that stood on the first page in the book. Two pictures were plastered on the left side of the page, one of a young girl that must be Shira when she arrived. The other looked as if it could have been taken yesterday. She was wearing that same gold eyeliner and her short black hair looked wild. I stared at the pictures for a long while, looking at her smile, her eyes, her hair. Young Shira had long, straight black hair. There was something about these two pictures that irked me deeply. Maybe it was seeing a younger version of somebody I had just met, making her somehow seem more real. This picture of Shira from years ago was proof that she was a person with a life and a story to tell. She had big teeth and was wearing a red t-shirt with butterflies on. She was just a kid, and already she had come to this place. Already she had begun controlling the world around her. She had grown so much, still looking at the newer picture, it was clear that she was still young. There was still a child inside of her, longing to be set free. I saw it in the way she lined her eyes in that shimmering gold, the way her hair had both grown shorter, but also wilder.

There was more to Shira than I had first thought. I needed to know who she had been four years ago when Javier and Miriam were killed. I needed to start somewhere, I needed to dig deep into everything about her if I wanted to know if she could have done it, and as I had just learned a few hours ago, nothing was impossible.

When I heard knocking on my door, I was sure it must be Shira. She had shown me around yesterday, so why shouldn’t she also be the one to check up on me today? However, when I opened the door, I wasn't greeted by a black bob cut, but a cloud of golden curls. Erika was fidgeting with her silk skirt as I looked her up and down.

“Good morning,” She said cheeringly. “It’s time for breakfast, then we’ll begin lessons”

“Lessons?” I asked bewildered as I followed her down the hall to the elevator

“Didn’t Shira mention?” Erika asked me. “Well, you are supposed to receive lessons by everyone, starting with me today”

“For the whole day?”

“No, you’ll get plenty of free time to roam.” Erika answered as the doors opened to the Kitchen and Common Room. “But after dinner we have obligatory training on floor 14”

“What's on floor 14 again?” I asked as we sat down by the kitchen table.

“That’s the maze,” Erika said. “Adi and Shira are turning it into a city so we can practice urban combat and chase.”

“Is it really clever to make everybody compete with each other?” I asked as I sipped the mug of coffee Erika had handed me, then I continued, clarifying: “After yesterday’s dinner?”

“Clever? No, not if you asked me,” Erika answered truthfully. “Necessary? Yes, if you asked Adi”

“How long till I’ll meet your leader?”

“Depends,” Erika said with a sly smile, a beckoning for me to remember a conversation we’d been a part of a few days ago. “Adi is a busy man, but maybe if you ask nicely he’ll let you visit him in his workshop”

“So your leader is too busy to meet your newest member?” I asked, then leaned over the table to punctuate what I was about to say. “Or does he just not care enough to bother?”

If you asked me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you how I knew to strike where I did. The truth is, I sensed something about Erika and the way she said Adi’s name, like she was uttering the name of a god long forgotten. She was the only one who said his name like that, like it meant more than any other word in every other language. It made me believe that she felt strongly about the guy. It made me think that if I ever said something rude about him, she’d take offense to it.

That’s why I let my mouth run.

Erika smiled at me, unbothered. The only thing indicating her irritation was her fingers that wrapped a little tighter around her own mug of coffee. “Adi cares, but he sometimes gets a little stuck in his study”

“Why don't we go down and visit him, then?” I asked with no idea of why I was going this far to meet another new face when I was already exhausted from all the new faces I had met.

“Like I said,” Erika chirped. “We would have to ask nicely”

“We are not allowed in the workshops?”

“We are not allowed in his workshop.” I could see the gentle lines and sweet smile begin to fade on Erika’s face, into a tired annoyance. A triumph. She continued: “And why do you even want to visit him so badly? You’ll get your chance soon enough to see him”

I didn't know why I wanted to see him. To see who was the mastermind behind my kidnapping? To meet the most powerful of the most powerful? Adi was their leader, he must be more powerful then the others, more wise. Or maybe I just want answers.

I don't have any questions on my mind, I am perfectly question free. I am the only one who knows who I am. Still I seek answers, seek purpose. A reasoning.

I don't know.

I don't know what I am seeking, I just know that I have been grasping towards something my entire life and being here, seeing magic unfold inside of myself, it all makes me feel like I am close to finding what I was looking for all that time. I desperately want to close my hand and feel my own life inside of it, and I thought Adi might be the key for me to do so. When in a castle, you go to the king for purpose, not his servants.

“I just do,” I tell Erika, a truthful lie. The kind of lie I have a talent for telling.

“Let’s wait till after your lesson” Erika said with a force behind her words. I close my mouth and look down into my food.

The entirety of Floor Ten is dedicated to training. There is a big empty room with swords and other tools for fighting are lined along the wall. Inside another room is a swimming pool, which I found strange, seeing as we are surrounded by water already.

We entered a small room with a round table in the middle and a whiteboard covering an entire wall.

“Sit down, please.” Erika said, so I did. “Welcome to your first theory lesson.”

I got up right away. I am not here to listen to Erika ramble on about magic while I just sit quietly. I wanted to practice, I wanted to use magic.

“Camilla sit down, please” Erika said again, still with that polite tone but now with more power behind it, so I sat down. I didn't mean to sit down, it just sort of happened. I look up at Erika and she is smiling at me, all sunshine and goldm and I want to tear the smile of her face. I was beginning to figure out that Erika’s smile was unwavering. I knew I was getting on her nerves, I could see that clearly in the way her hands gripped the back of the chair she was standing behind, but still she continued to smile at me.

“I don't want to be here,” I said plain and simple.

“You’ll get to use your powers for the rest of your life,” Erika wheddled. “But it’ll be easier if you know what you are doing. This isn’t just fun and games. We are born with the power to tamper with the universe, don't you think we owe the world to be careful with those powers?”

I didn’t care about the world, I just wanted to know myself. I didn't say as much to Erika but instead folded by hands and waited for her to get on with the lesson.

The lesson lasted until lunch, with no breaks. It was easy stuff, mostly Erika talking about how our powers and the universe works, with only a few mentions of the kind of missions the Organization sent it’s Tethered on, but for a girl like me who has not been in school for four years, I was suddenly reminded of how hard it is to sit still and listen for a prolonged time.

According to Erika, the magic we used was the thing that bound the universe together and made things happen. It’s that happening that we control, that we use to run fast or swim further or light up the world. Few people have this power, and it is unpredictable who gets to be born with the powers. She said the last part like she was answering a question I had yet to say out loud, and when she did I realized it was one of the questions inside of me. Why was I picked? Why me?

The Organization is a funny thing to me. It’s old, older than I can properly grasp, and it’s sole purpose is to protect humankind. That means also protecting Earth. The Organization is led by an elected Tethered, that being the mysterious Adi at the moment. Adi, born in 1770, is the oldest member of the Organization, but he is not the oldest known Tethered.

Erika explained that it takes time to learn new powers, which is why it’s a general rule that the older a Tethered is, the more dangerous.

“But age isn't the only thing that makes us more powerful.” Added Erika. “We all have a bucket, which we use to draw magic from the well of the universe. Imagine if you used your bucket, but gave whatever was in it to someone else. Someone who already knows how to drink the water.”

“Sounds very wise,” I admitted “But I don’t really get it”

“Well,” Erika offered “Point is we can boost each others powers. It’s usually done by physical contact, like holding hands. It’s one of the reasons the Organization is so effective. Drifters have to rely on their own powers and knowledge, but we can share those things.”

“If that’s true, how are the Drifters even benefiting from being alone?” I speculated aloud.

Erika’s eyes lit up. “That is a good question. Why stay alone when you could work together? Why wander the earth, older than any other human around you; lonely. Why do that of your own free will when it’s so easy to reach out your hand to people like you?”

She knew that I knew the answer, and I did. I was alone too, maybe not for as long as some of the Drifters around the world, but that hardly mattered. Fact was that I ran away because I wanted to be alone, because I wanted to be free. They all traded power for solitude, a choice that might sound ridiculous to most people who didn’t know that solitude is sometimes another word for freedom. I knew now that I could not stay here. I am a creature who feeds of freedom, who always shys away from people. I had to stay for a bit, at least until I figured out how to use my powers, then I’d run away and make a life of my own. Alone.

“I think you know the answer, don't you?” Erika prodded.

“I do” I said simply

“People are predictable,” Erika continued on with her lesson. “And we, the Tethered, are still just people. Some of us need connection to other human beings to feel alive, and others can only be themselves when they are alone.” I couldn’t help but tune her out, focusing instead on the glass from where I could see the deep of the ocean. It was light outside again, like the ocean lit up with the sun, even if the actual rays of light could not reach this far underwater.

“What happened to Javier and Miriam?” I cut in. Erika looked taken aback for about half a second, then she composed herself.

“They were found dead.” She began, careful with her words. “First it was Javier in Germany. Him and Zeph were on a mission and they had split up for a bit. Zeph said when he came back to their camp, Javier was laying in the snow with a knife in his shoulder and his heart bigger than his head; murdered by another Tethered.”

“And Miriam?” I asked when Erika stopped.

She smiled and looked down at her own hands. “Miriam was our leader. Brave, smart, funny. Lynn found her dead right there,” She pointed towards the seafloor that I could see clearly through the glass. A single stone was raised in the water. “There had been an earthquake. She was laying on the ground, her hands gripping onto the stone and her lungs shattered.”

“And you don't know who did this?” I asked

“You know we don't,” Erika pointed out.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I want to find out who did it”

Erika looked me over, then shook her head. “You are in more danger than any of us. You can’t even control your powers properly, how are you supposed to defend youself from a murder? Take my advice and keep your head low while you train”

“Okay” I lied. Erika eyed me again, unconvinced, but still she continued with the lesson.

Erika takes me down to the 13th floor, which is a giant garden. The walls here aren't glass, but mirrors, making the garden seem endless. There are areas where vegetables and herbs are grown in rows, and even a section of fruit trees standing in line like a mini orchard, but the rest of the garden is an overgrown mess. Erika leads me towards a giant willow tree beside a small lake, and we sit down to eat our lunch.

Earlier today I decided that I would investigate Shira. A big part of me didn’t believe she could be the murderer. She just seemed too innocent, too carefree, but my life had taught me that you never knew just what people could be capable of. I wondered, not for the first time, if you could read it on my face how many people I had killed, or if I still had some of my innocence left.

“Can I ask you something?” I started out.

“Of course.” Erika said, looking out at the lake. There must be some sort of artificial light source hidden over us, because in that fleeting moment it looked like Erika was sitting underneath the sun, her hair ablaze in the spots where the light shone through the leaves over us.

“What does ‘transformation’ mean? I saw it on Shira’s page in that book”

“Oh, it's her powers,” Erika explained, turning towards me. I wish she would have kept looking out at the lake, because with her eyes on me I felt exposed, like she could read all my secrets. She properly could. “She has the ability to transform one thing into another. Like, wood into stone or lead into gold.”

I thought about Shira and her gold jewelry. It must be real gold she wore, real gold made by herself. I recalled Erika telling me about Javier’s death. His heart had grown bigger, until it couldn’t fit inside his chest. Shira was familiar with manipulating objects. It wouldn't be out of her capabilities to ruin organs. The mental image of Shira stabbing another person and making his heart grow felt wrong. Still it did not feel impossible.

“Was her and Javier friends?” I asked Erika.

“Kinda,” Erika answered. “They weren't anything special. Javier spent most of his time hanging with Zeph or Aiden, and Shira was mostly found down in the workshops with Adi. But that didn't mean they werent friends, ya know. Everyone here are friends”

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Everyone here were friends” Erika reiterated. “Believe it or not, we didn't used to be this messy. We used to be friends. We had movie nights and we went clubbing each friday. Of course none of us are in the mood for those things since they died.”

“Do you think Shira could have done it?” I asked, the words out of my mouth before my brain caught up.

Erika laughed, shortly. “No, have you met her? Shira couldn't even hurt a fly, as if she would even stand a chance against Miriam.”

“Was Miriam strong?”

“The strongest” Erika sighed. “She was old, very old.”

“But Javier? Could she have done that?”

“I don't see why you are interested”

“Precautions” I said, simply.

Erika looked at me then, and I wished that I had never asked her anything. She looked right through me and it made my soul shake. “Don't try to play detective, Camilla.”

Zeph

    I couldn’t sleep one bit that night. It was as if hearing Javier’s name being said out loud sent something spiraling inside of me. I’ve thought of him plenty since he died, it sometimes feels like not a single day passes by without I think about him, and my body never just stops like it did when Erika said his name. It’s been four years since he died, I know I should be over him by now, I should have laid him to rest in his grave. I guess I am just bad at letting go. It seems as though it's very easy for people to get into my heart, but near impossible to then get out. I still think about Morrigan, even though we only dated for a few years. She was the first real girlfriend I had ever had, and I still love her just as much as I did back then. 

    If it’s true that I can’t let go of people, that must mean my amnesia is a blessing. Unlike everyone else in the Organization, I don't remember my life as it was before I figured out I wasn't human. All the others remember their families, where they grew up, what they wanted to be. Erika told me about her life in Jacksonville with her brothers and single mother, Shira won't shut up about how her and her sister used to bake these cakes that she can't remember the taste of anymore. While all my friends look back at their past with wanting and excitement, I just look back at nothing. My earliest memory is looking up at the sky, hearing a voice demanding that I wake up, and then turning my head to see Javier standing in front of me. 

    Javier tried to help me piece back my mind. He told me that he had just found me lying there on the ground, sleeping with a knife in my hand. No matter how many questions he asked me about my past, I always just came up empty. I just felt empty, empty, empty.

    Javier gave me a name, he gave me a mission, a dream. There was a long while where the only thing I had was Javier, then we started filling that hole inside of me with loud music and houses filled with people. We started filling that hole inside of me with kisses and alcohol. It was the sixties and we were free. We would play gods for the day, then find each other in the night where we once again became just two human boys with broken souls. He would always tell me that life was endless, and I believed him every single time until he died. Javier’s corpse was the first dead body I ever saw in my too long life. It’s funny how he always managed to be my first, even if he didn’t mean to.

    After spending two hours sobbing into my pillow, I decided that I should properly do something more productive. I get up and take the elevator to the kitchen, wanting to fill that newly found emptiness inside of me with food or maybe a drink. Just for old times sake.

    I didn’t expect to find anybody up at this ungodly hour, but I am not even surprised when I see Lynn eating cereal by the table.

    He looks over at me and I am unable to read his face. Lynn just has one of those faces where it always looks like he is angry. It took me a while to realize that it's just the way he looks. 

    “No,” He said simply.

    “What?” I replied, trying to smile but failing. “Is a man not allowed to enjoy some leftovers after midnight?”

    “Not if it's you,” He said, then. “I think I am going to throw up if I smell your chicken right now”

    “Please?” I beg, holding the little container with roasted chicken. “I’ll even go sit in the couches if you just let me have my chicken”

     Lynn looks away from me, and I can feel him rolling his eyes. It makes me smile a bit. The whole fight we have going on is very stupid in my opinion. Thing is I love chicken, it’s got the right texture and taste, it’s versatile cooking and it’s healthier than pork or beef. I have a habit of eating it at almost every meal, but that doesn’t mean I just always eat plain roasted chicken like I did today. No, I make sure to always spice it up. Chicken soup, butter chicken, chicken in my tacos and chicken in my lasagna. The others don't care about my strange eating habit, except Lynn of course.

    Lynn is of the strong belief that chicken is linked to an early death or at least a very bad stomach. Plus, he just has a thing with real chickens too. Beside being the best of us to control water, Lynn can also transform himself into any animal of his liking. It’s very useful for spying and fighting, but he also uses this power in the Pyramid. His favorite animal to become is the wolf, which I think is very emo of him. After a wolf, it’s a chicken. I have no idea why he likes being a chicken as much as he does. When he is a chicken he usually just lays on a couch, looking like a ball of feathers with only the beak sticking out. 

     I wondered, not for the first time, if Lynn would be just as mad if I started eating wolf meat.

    “Just sit down, Zeph” Lynn said. “But try to at least eat it quickly and quietly”

    “Of course, dude!” I exclaimed, patting Lynn on the back as I sat down.

Camilla

The rest of the floors pass in a blur. Shira showed me the training rooms and the cinema, the gardens and the hangars. She even showed me an entire floor that is just a maze. She told me that the Maze can be changed into different settings, like a cave system or city plan.

“Are we done now?” I ask as we enter the elevator again. We had just been inside the hangars, which Shira had told me were the last floor. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my stuff again, and then go to sleep.

“Not quite,” Shira said with that usual cheer in her voice that reminded me of a more chaotic Erika. “We would be bad hosts if we just let you go to bed without dinner, n’at”

It was the first time I really noticed that Shira had an accent with the slur of words and that. I couldn’t place the origin of her accent. I am only really familiar with the English my mom used when I was younger. I realized that I must also have an accent when speaking English, and it was highly likely that I had inherited my mother’s Italian accent. It made me close my mouth, afraid that Shira or one of the others might suspect that I had deeper roots than just being Danish. Italy was my secret, it was my plan B if everything else failed. I couldn't give that away to any of them, and especially not through something so stupid as an accent.

Shira didn't notice my silence but continued. “I am sure that some of the others will show up, so it’ll be a chance for you to get to know the others”

She looks at me, waiting for something. A reply, a nod of my head, anything to acknowledge what she said. I continue staring ahead, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they do, I step out into the Kitchen and Common Room. Erika, Zeph, and Aiden are all sitting by a dining table, talking quietly together. A girl that I hadn’t seen before is standing by the kitchen, possibly making the food. Her back is turned to me, but still, I can see something elegant about her, it's in the way she holds herself as if her feet aren't touching the ground. Her hair is such a light shade of blonde that it looks white. She is wearing a white dress with a silver belt, and her shoes look like porcelain. She moves around the kitchen with grace, her pale hands poking around in the cabins

Shira sits down by the table, so I follow her reluctantly.

“What do you think of the Pyramid?” Erika asked. She was sitting in front of me, with her hands folded neatly on the table.

“I like it” I lie. The only thing going through my mind is how much I want to leave and go back to my room.

“That’s good to hear,” She smiles genuinely. “You must be hungry then. Morrigan, won't you tell Camilla what’s for dinner?”

The girl with the white hair, Morrigan, looks over at me with gray eyes, up and down as she judges my worth.

“Pie with roasted chicken on the side,” She said with a smile that showed of her perfect teeth, her face radiating fake all over.

“Dips on the chicken,” Zeph says quickly, eyeing the oven.

“You are disgusting,” Lynn says simply from behind me. I had not noticed him joining us. I looked back and forth at Zeph and Lynn, but none of them said anything further. Morrigan sat the food down on the table and everyone began taking a piece of the pie, except Zeph who only took the chicken.

“Don’t mind Zeph,” Erika said to me, clearly noticing that I was still staring. “The only kind of meat that Zeph eats is chicken.”

“Is it a diet thing?” I ask, mostly to make small talk.

“No,” Zeph cuts in, mouth full of chicken. “It's cause it's fucking delicious”

“You are literally going to die of poisoning,” Lynn said

I looked at Erika for an explanation, but she only shrugged.

The conversation never died at the table. Shira and Aiden talked the most, and they talked loud, laughing and almost choking on their drinks multiple times. Zeph and Erika talked with Shira and Aiden from time to time, but they seemed more interested in asking me questions, all of which I avoided or ignored. Sometimes someone would ask Morrigan a question, and she’d answer politely, still with that edge in her voice. It was clear that Morrigan felt somewhat distant towards the others.

Lynn was situated between Morrigan and Zeph, and he kept glancing over at Zeph and his roasted chicken.

“So Camilla,” Erika started. I tensed, waiting for her question. “How come you are so good at English? Not to be invasive or anything, but you did drop out of school early”

I shrugged, making something up in my mind. “It just came naturally. Maybe it's a power or whatever. How come some of you have accents? Where are you all from?” I narrowly changed the subject and gave myself a mental pad on the shoulder.

Erika simply smiled at me, which didn’t make me feel good. I was beginning to suspect that she wasn't taking me seriously. “Both me and Shira are from America.”

“I’m Canadian,” Aiden said, not hiding the fact that he must have been listening to our conversation. “We are kinda like the American Trinity.”

“I voted for ‘American Gods’,” Shira said. “You know, like the book, but apparently it's an unsaid rule that we should not compare ourselves to gods.”

“But your accent?” I asked Shira, who then began laughing. Zeph and Aiden both joined her, with Erika smiling along and the two others just staring at them.

“Americans have accents. Erika has an accent too, she just hides it” Shira shrieked, trying to stop laughing.

“As if Erika has an accent,” Aiden yelled, “You were fucking unintelligible when we first met you. All yinz and n’that. That! That was an accent like I’ve ever heard one”

“And you don't think you talk a tad bit funny, eh?” Shira teased right back. They continued going back and forth until I realized that I was no longer a part of the conversation I had originally started. I looked down at my food.

“Shira is from Pittsburgh,” Erika told me with her gentle voice. “They tend to talk rather funny there”

“What about the others,” I asked, trying to ignore Shira and Aiden’s loud and friendly bickering. “Where are they from?”

“Morrigan is from Sweden, so don't try to curse at her or anything in Danish. Lynn is from Australia, though I think he might also be Irish, I don't know, he never really talks about it. Adi is German.”

“And what about Zeph,” I asked, glancing over at the guy who was slowly chewing his chicken while smirking at a fuming Lynn.

Erika just shrugged. “Dunno. Somewhere in Europe?”

“Oh,”

“He used to be a Drifter,” Erika said, then explained when she saw my look of confusion. “A Tethered person who isn’t part of the Organization. There are quite a lot of them, actually. They usually operate on their own in territories. Both North Africa, Alaska and parts of India are controlled by other Tethered, which makes it extremely dangerous for us to enter those zones since Drifters tend to be quite territorial.”

“But Zeph was a drifter?” I asked, “For how long?”

“I don't know, like thirty years or something.” Erika wondered. “He teamed up with Javier in like the forties and they both joined the Organization in 1977.”

Everybody by the table went quiet at the mention of Javier’s name, and a few even turned to look over at Zeph.

“Who’s Javier?” I asked, maybe a bit too oblivious about the situation in front of me.

“Javier was the best thing that ever happened to this place,” Zeph said quietly, then laughed and ran a hand through his thick, dark brown hair. “Sorry, I just. I don't know. He died four years ago. Killed.” Zeph said with force. “He was killed four years ago”

I honestly didn’t know what to say. I knew I should properly offer comfort, but I barely knew Zeph nor this Javier.

“I am sorry,” I tried, but even I could hear that I wasn’t, that I didn't really care.

“It's okay, I am fine now,” Zeph said. “I just wish we had found out who killed him and Miriam.”

“It’s not like it could just be anyone,” Aiden said, glancing over at the other side of the table where Morrigan and Lynn were sitting.

“Only Tethered people can kill Tethered people,” Erika told me, trying to put the conversation back on track. “We are immortal unless someone takes our immortality, which takes a lot of power to do”

She clearly failed in keeping the others civil, because Morrigan shot Aiden back with a. “Why are you so quick to make up assumptions?”

“Because you never liked Javier and were clearly jealous of Miriam,” Aiden accused

“You don't know anything,” Morrigan yelled, getting up from her chair. Her silver-gray eyes were blazing with fury. “How dare you accuse me of murder. How dare you say to my face, in front of everyone, that I was jealous of Miriam. Miriam! She was my friend, Aiden, but clearly you don't know what those are, seeing as you always just third wheel on everyone else” Everyone was quiet for way too long. I was about to open my mouth to say something, but then Aiden got up too and said with a calm I knew he was faking. “Thanks for dinner, Morrigan. It’s always a pleasure to hear your opinion”

Everyone followed him with their eyes as he left, his footsteps ringing loudly through the room.

“Morrigan,” Erika said disappointingly. “That was not very nice”

“He had it coming,” Morrigan answered airily. “He should know not to throw accusations around at dinner. Better wait till after dessert with wreaking havoc in the family”

Nobody said anything again. We all continued to eat or dinner and soon we moved onto dessert which was a soft chocolate cake that Morrigan had also made. Her cooking wasn’t anything extraordinary, but still it felt like the best meal I had ever had.

It wasn't until we were halfway through dinner before Shira said “I really hope we have it wrong. That it's not one of us, but someone or something else.”

I fell down onto my bed as soon as we were done. My brain was still buzzing from being around so many new people, and my vision was blurring slightly at the edges. Still, I couldn't sleep. The conversation between the others kept replaying in my mind. If I had understood correctly, two people had been murdered, which meant a murder was on the loose. It seemed kind of unsafe for my well being to stay in a place where there had been two unsolved murders. I knew how hard it was to end someone else’s life and I didn’t trust anyone who could do that to another human being.

I knew I had to leave before it was I who was dead.

Still, I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t trust a single person here, I knew it was dangerous, knew that I could just leave right now and find someplace in the world, and then live peacefully for hundreds of years, but I was just beginning to learn about this new side of myself that I had never known existed. I wanted so badly to learn how to use my powers, I wanted that rush of power I felt when I was running or when I was swimming. I wanted to feel alive and to feel well, and I suspected this was the only place I might learn how to feel those things.

That’s why I came up with my plan. It is a compromise that will let me stay, while also making sure that I wouldn’t be in danger for longer than necessary.

The plan: Find the murderer. It sounded unrealistic in my own ears, but still, I needed to try. It was the only way my own paranoia would let me stay in this place.

It was the only way I could live with myself.

I closed my eyes. Determined to do this and do it well. I needed all my walls in place, I needed to be able to be objective, to never get too close to the suspects, and they were all suspects. I needed to think quickly, but if there was anything that I was, it was fast. Faster than everyone else.

With my eyes closed, the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat, fast but steady, never slowing down, never giving up. I heard as much as I felt two screams from far away, and just as the third was about to be unleashed, I woke to the quiet of my new room.

On my bedside table is the book that Shira had given me. A page for each member of this place, a page for the two people who are dead, and quite possibly also a page for the one who killed them. Now I just had to figure you who could have done it <- Previous chapter // Next chapter ->

Shira

Me and Lynn have done this a hundred times, so it doesn't take us long to finish. We don't talk while we do it, which I am fine with. It’s always strange when talking to Sober-Lynn, so I am more than happy to work with him in silence.

Lynn might not be the oldest of the gang, but he wears age worse than the others. He sleeps a lot, and drinks too. None of us sees him unless he is working or drinking, since he always hides in his room. It was worse when I joined the Organization in 2000, but Morrigan and Adi, who are the only ones who was there when Lynn himself joined the Organization, both say that he is still not the same. I can't imagine how he was back then. Morrigan told me that he was friendly if a bit shy, that he liked things and he liked people. Adi told me that he used to visit the workshops and laugh.

Then I guess he got tired, like most of us are bound to do. It's not easy living as long as we do, it's not natural in any sense. I am lucky that I am still young. It's been twenty two years since I was born, which means my family is still out there. Which means I still have to be careful when traveling, that people might still be looking for me.

We parted ways as soon as Lynn and I are finished and I’ve thanked him for the help. I head take the Elevator all the way up to the Second floor. The numbering of the Pyramid doesn’t make any sense. The highest floor is the first floor, and the lowest is the fifteenth. In defense of the building, it was constructed hundreds of years ago, when most buildings weren’t even two stories tall.

Camilla is sitting all alone, and she looks is already looking at me when the elevator doors open.

“Hey,” I grinned, jogging over to her. I didn't expect her to answer, and continued. “Ready for your tour?”

“Where is my stuff?” She asked instead, her hands stuffed in her pockets and her eyes on the elevator.

“I dropped it off on the fifth floor, that's where the majority of rooms are located”

“Then lets start there” Camilla got up and headed straight towards the elevator.

“Not so fast,” I exclaimed, jogging up to her. “We take the tour one floor at a time.”

“I want my stuff” Camilla just said, looking at me like her glare might make me give in. It didn’t

“You’ll get it.” I told her, stepping closer and looking at her, a smirk on my face that I didn't bother wiping away.

“Are you challenging me?” Camilla asked calmly.

“Don’t be absurd.” I said, patting her on the shoulder. “The quicker I show you the next two floors, the quicker you’ll get get your stuff.”

She jerked her shoulder away from my hand and headed for the elevator. I couldn't help but smile as I followed her down to the third floor: Formal Dining.

It's never in use. Adi told me it used to be filled all the time back in the days, back when there were more members of the Organization. There are only about fifteen registered Tethered on the planet. Our kind is either dying or maybe we’ve gotten better at hiding. I hope it's the latter, because the thought of the former makes me feel depressed.

The doors open and I show Camilla around. There is one long table in the middle. The room is golden and red carpets cover up most of the glass walls, expect for a few spots. Camilla looks at it briefly, uninterested.

“We hold dinners in here when someone has a birthday or when we are celebrating something. We also use it sometimes for holidays, but those times are not as nice. There is still a lot of debate on if we should celebrate human traditions like Christmas and Eid. Adi thinks it's pointless, since it's the celebration of the human’s gods, which he believes doesn't exist, but some of us are religious, so we still hold those kind of feasts, even if they do go a little stiff”

“Adi.” Camilla says, tasting the name. “That’s your leader, right”

“Yes” I tell her as I follow her to the elevator and watch the doors close again. “He is the oldest, born in the bold year of 1770.”

“Shit,” Camilla cursed. “That’s old. I thought… I don't know. When Erika said you guys lived long lives, I thought she meant you were all like forty but looked twenty”

“Nope” I said, popping the p. “She meant what she meant. She always does. Erika is the most honest person I’ve ever met.”

Camilla raised an eyebrow at me, clearly sceptics. “I can’t believe that” She said as if it was a fact, as if she was politely declining my offer.

“Then don’t” I told her, equally polite. The doors opened. “This is the fourth floor: Kitchen and Common Room.”

Camilla went in ahead of me and looked around. “It smells”

“Yeah, it always does,” I said sniffing the air. “It's hard to expect anything else when you have an entire floor dedicated to making food and watching tv, especially when the only inhabitants are young adults with too much free time.”

Camilla poked her head inside the cabins, and I couldn't help but smile as she took out a chicken wing from the fridge and devoured it.

“Hungry?” I asked teasingly.

“Don’t say anything” She grumbled with food in her mouth, and I was reminded of Erika telling us that she had been homeless for a long while. I wondered how kind the Danish people were to their homeless, properly kinder than the Americans.

“We have lunch in here every day at twelve o’clock,” I told her. “It's the only time where we are all together and we usually use that time to update everyone on what's important”

“But the kitchen is always open?” She asked, stuffing her pockets with carrots.

“The kitchen is always opened” I confirmed.

Camilla shouldered past me as she headed for the elevator. “Good to know”

I got in beside her. As we went down, I couldn't help but look at her. Erika had taken the time to warn me that she properly wouldn’t like me, but it still hit hard now that I realized Erika had been right. Camilla seemed like she couldn’t care less about me, like she didn’t respect me. I would just have to try harder at befriending her.

Camilla

I don't know why, but Shira is the only person so far that I actually respect. She feels more real than Erika, more peaceful than Zeph, smarter than Aiden. She just shows me around the place and provides me with stupid yet helpful chatter.

The doors open again and I step out before her. I won't ever tell anyone, but I am terrified of elevators, of confinement, of the thought of suddenly falling and not being able to stop falling. Every time I’ve stepped out to a new floor, it's been like when I first came into the pyramid and suddenly learned that I had been breathing wrong.

“This is it,” Shira said from behind me. “The Fifth Floor: Housing.”

In front of us was a long hallway with doors on either side. I walked over to the closest door and read in blue-green letters: Lynn, Number 56.

“Mostly everyone lives in one of these rooms.” Shira continued, walking down the hallway. I followed behind her. “You have a room too of course. You’ll find your stuff in there.”

She opened a seemingly random door and I stepped inside. The room was bigger than I expected. There was a king sized bed propped up against one of the walls, it looked old with it’s dark wooden frame and silk pillows. On the floor was a thick, gray carpet that I knew from just looking at must be softer than anything else in this room. The wall on the other side of the room was glass from top to bottom, and looked out into the sea. It was darker now than it had been when I was in the lobby, and I did not know if it was because of how deep we had gone, or if it was because of how late it must have gotten. My limited knowledge of geography told me that I was closer to the equator now than I’d been in Denmark, which must mean the sun set later in the day.

All my stuff was was placed in the middle of the room, and I was just about to go through it all when I noticed that Shira was still standing in the doorway, now with a big book in her arms, that I didn't know where came from.

“It's a nice room, isn’t it?” Shira said as she sat down on my bed. “Nice, if a bit blank. You’ll let me know if you want my help decorating” It wasn't a question so I didn’t bother with answering.

She opened the book and motioned for me to sit down beside her. I sat down reluctantly and looked. Shira had opened up to a page with a photo of her in one corner, and different boxes of information, presumably about her.

“This book has been passed down through centuries,” She started. “From one rookie to another. Everyone who has ever been a part of the Organization has their own page in it.” She handed me the book and I looked at it. It didn't feel old, the leather around it was still a bit stiff and the paper was white and clean, with only a slight coat of dusting on the cover.

“I’ll have a page in it.” I realized aloud.

“Of course,” Shira said as she took back the book. “I’ll even help you make it tomorrow, but now we have to finish the tour. There are still ten floors left”

“No” I said, trying not to fidget with my hands. I didn't want Shira to see how nervous I had suddenly grown.

“What do you mean no?” Shira laughed. “Of course there are ten more floors left”

“I don't want a page in your book” I said, getting up from the bed. I couldn't explain why the thought scared me so much. I guess it’s all the years of trying to erase myself from the world, all the years of hiding and running.

“Oh,” Shira simply said. “Well. You have to. But it’s not, you know, like we are going to be writing down all your deep dark fears. It's only statistics. They help Adi when he has to choose people for missions.”

“I don't care, I don't want my name in your book”

“It's just a name” Shira said, voice small.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking, then left the room. “Okay.” I said, my voice louder than intended. “I’ll just go find Erika or who ever Adi is and tell them that I will be leaving”

“Wait,” Shira yelled, going after me as I left the room. “Let’s figure something out tomorrow, please?”

Camilla

My stomach had stopped turning about three barf sessions ago, and now I felt calm for the first time in a while. We were all three standing on the deck, watching the calm ocean stretch towards the horizon. The sun was directly over our heads, and it made Erika and Aiden’s light hair shine like gold and fire respectively.

“Where are we?” I asked Erika who was leaning against the railing and looking down into the water, searching.

“East of the Bahamas” Erika answered. “In the Bermuda Triangle”

I laughed, a brief and aggressive sound. “Isn't that a bit cliche?”

Erika rolled her eyes as the boys laughed, with me or at me I didn't know.

“Yes, it's a bit… apparent.” Erika told me “But we are, afterall, the reason the Bermuda Triangle is so infamous. We’ve trained and roamed and used our powers here since the Glass Pyramid was first built”

“You guys took down Amelia Earhart?” I asked.

“We didn't take her down,” Erika exclaimed. “Zeph, tell her what really happened”

“Why me?” Zeph laughed, amused by Erika.

“Cause you are the oldest of us”

“She disappeared two years before I was even born”

“Amelia didn’t disappear,” Aiden started, ignoring Erika and Zeph. “She joined us. A war was approaching, and so was the new age. We needed someone who knew how to fly and handle human technology, and since Amelia had already been exposed to our secrets by Morrigan, she was the only obvious choice”

“Oh.” I said.

“We’re here” Erika burst out, still looking down into the ocean.

I joined her by the railing and looked at the water, at first I didn't see anything but dark blue, then I suddenly caught a glimpse of light being reflected towards me from the deep.

“Tell Morrigan that we are above the base” Erika commanded

“Aye, captain” Zeph mock saluted and went under deck.

Aiden stepped forward and climbed onto the railing, his feet almost touching the water. He looked as if he was about to jump head first into the water.

“See you guys on the other side” He said before dropping carefully into the water and sinking so fast I almost thought he disappeared, if it wasn't for the mist rising in his place and the water bobbing as if it was boiling hot.

“You guys do realize this is completely insane.” I said, not really a question.

“Yeah, I know.” Erika still answered. “Everything new is strange at first, and this is no exception. But it is also your first test. Every new member in the Organization has to learn how to reach the Glass Pyramid on the bottom of the ocean. It's supposed to test your ability to adapt, and your creativity. Everybody has their own method of reaching the base, and we want you to find your”

“How do you get down to the base?” I asked.

“I swim and hold my breath for an extended amount of time, it takes a lot of focus and it is not my primary way of travel, but it works” Erika said.

I looked into the water and swallowed.

“Don't worry, I’ll help you all the way down” Erika promised.

Zeph came back up and looked at the two of us. “It shouldn’t take long now” I looked questioning at Zeph. “The light signal” Zeph explained. “It's nearly impossible to see anything down there, so Morrigan and Adi made this big beam that we can follow down to the entrance.”

“It tracks a lot of unwanted attention,” Erika continued. “So it can't stay turned on for long.”

“Makes sense” I took hold of the railing and pulled myself up so I was sitting on it, ready to jump, looking for the light.

“Well, imma bounce.” Zeph clapped us on the shoulders, then jumped head first, getting caught by the air. “Cya, ladies!” he hooted, then pulled down, inside a bubble of air.

I took a deep breath, then admitted “I don't know what to do.”

“You’ll have to figure something out.” Erika said. “Think about your strengths, think about a way down and all the factors that will keep you alive. Just think”

That wasn't helpful. My mind felt like a record, going over the same notes again and again and again. I could feel my heart race, and the only thing my eyes could see was that girl the moment she opened her eyes underwater and screamed without sound. I could hear that scream now, the scream of a ghost that still haunted me.

I took a deep breath and tried to ignore that growing cold inside my being. The light broke through the ocean and I jumped into the unknown, my heart racing, my eyes open and my soul was suddenly alive.

I swam through the cold sea, and I could feel the water pulling my limbs, pressing me down. I wanted to go back to the surface, I wanted to close my eyes because the water stung and the light from beneath was blinding. I wanted to breathe air again.

I closed my eyes against the stinging and I tried to swim down, down, down. The water was too heavy, it was both pulling me downwards and trying to squash me. My head hurt and my lungs were emptying quicker than I thought possible. This was not like running.

And that’s when I started thinking. My first thought: This is the first time in my entire life I’ve ever been aware. My second thought: This is the first time I’ve been alive. My third thought: Maybe this could be like running.

When you set your mind to do something, and I mean really do something, it’s surprisingly easy. I kicked with my legs, I forced my lungs to breathe like I did when I was running, and it worked. I was swimming fast, faster than I ever imagined I could. I wasn't drowning, I wasn't falling. I was running beneath the sea. The current was the wind in my hair, the water was every single dark thing that had happened to me, and I was pushing through it all.

Then I stopped, and so did my lungs. I was once again surprised at my own shallow mind. When Erika had told me that we were going to some underwater Glass Pyramid, I had not believed her. I should have, for that was exactly what awaited me. The Pyramid was bigger than I expected. It was bigger than any building I had ever seen, which I knew didn't mean much, since the big buildings in Denmark were cottages compared to some of the big architectural wonders of the world.

The entire Pyramid was made out of glass, which the name had kind of given away already. It reflected the sunlight from the surface and cast dancing shadows around the seafloor. It was also surrounded by what I assumed was a garden, filled with corals, seaweed and colored stones. Fish swam around the place in school, creating patterns. I wanted to chase them for hours, to explore every creak of the garden, but then I remembered that I had stopped breathing, so that took over my thoughts for the couple seconds.

When I regained my ability to breathe underwater, Erika had already reached me. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, that circled her head from behind, creating a halo of gold in stark contrast to the blue of the sea. She smiled at me and began swimming down towards the pyramid, and I followed after her, slower this time, taking in the sight.

It was only when we were a couple of metres away from the Pyramid’s top, that I began to wonder how we would get inside. I couldn't see an entrance anywhere, and it looked like Erika was headed straight towards the top instead of towards the bottom where I would have guessed the door would have been, had there been any.

I almost stopped breathing again when Erika swam straight into the top and through the glass like it was also made of water. I couldn't see her when she entered the Glass Pyramid, but guessed I would have to follow her inside. I did, and I landed on the floor three metres beneath where I came through the glass, heaving for air, finally appreciating the nice way natural air felt going through my lungs. My hair and clothes were drenched, and my insides were burning like when I had gone for a run yesterday.

A pair of feet approached me, and I almost slapped the hand that reached towards me, before I realized it was Erika, then I just settled on glaring at it. Erika was completely dry, but she had taken her coat off and was now standing in her black pants and gold, sleeveless top.

“Next time you’ll have to learn how to stay dry” Erika said when she realized I wasn't going to take her hand.

“Where is my bag?” I asked instead, beginning to worry. I had my only towel in it, and I wanted it around me as soon as possible.

“Don't worry,” Erika said, as if she read my mind. “Shira and Lynn are getting the boat down soon, along with all your things.”

I was starting to have trouble keeping up with all of the names, so instead of responding I just coughed up some water that had gotten into my lungs.

“I think the others must be waiting for us” Erika wondered out loud.

“How many?”

“We are a total of seven people living here,” Erika informed me. “But I highly doubt they’ll all be there.”

Seven people. It's less than I expected, but it still manages to feel like a crowd inside my brain. The confinement of the Pyramid suddenly doesn't seem so thrilling. I get up from where I was laying, and stretch my aching limbs.

Erika smiled at me once I was standing, then lead me towards a firepole that she took down smoothly. I hesitated, unsure of whether it was a good idea to slide down the metal pole with my wet hands and drenched pants on. I bit down my fear and jumped, catching the pole and sliding down, landing sooner than I expected with a loud thud.

This floor was bigger than the first. There weren't any rooms on this floor, and there were four curved glass walls, with the ocean behind each of them. The water was brighter than it should be this deep underneath the sea, and I could see further now that I was inside the pyramid, than I could when I was swimming inside it. It might have been a magic trick or maybe just my eyes that were more used to looking in air instead of water.

The firepole was in the middle of the room, and around it were small lounges with a mix of old fashioned couches, futuristic looking chairs and beanbags. There were a lot of beanbags. Potted plants and carpets decorated the floor too, along with a few statues along the walls.

Four people were sitting in one of the little nooks. I recognized Aiden and Zeph immediately. Aiden was sitting in one of the couches, an arm propped up on the backrest, a girl with black hair sitting beside him. Zeph sitting on the coffee table, and a tall and slender man was propped against the glass wall.

Erika called and the four collectively turned their heads to look at me.

“There she is!” The girl yelled. She wore brightly colored red pants, and layered shirts. Around her neck was one of those chokers that were properly popular in the nineties, and her almond shaped eyes were lined in bronze eyeliner. “We’ve been waiting for you. You look drenched”

“I feel drenched, too” I monotoned, crossing my arms and feeling a bit exposed.

“I’m Shira,” She told me as she got up. “Welcome. I’ll be your official your guide”

I looked at the other man who was still propped against the wall. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked uninterested in what was going on.

“Don't you have somewhere to be?” Erika asked Shira, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes.

“Oh, yes.” Shira ruffled Erika’s ponytail and looked at the man by the wall. “Lynn, I need you help”

Lynn nodded to me in silent greeting as he followed Shira to the firepole. The two of them took hold of the pole and were pulled up magically.

“How are they going to get an entire boat down here?” I asked while still looking at the place they had been a couple of seconds ago.

“Shira is a master of transformation,” Aiden said. “She shrinks the boat and then Lynn uses his water powers to pull it down. We have a hangar on one of the lower floors where Shira then transforms the boat back”

“It's going to take a while, you should sit down,” Erika advised. “I’ll go talk to Adi, he is our leader” She added, remembering that I properly didn't know who he was. “Zeph, you make sure her room is ready. Aiden you just… I don't know”

“I’ll show Morrigan my salmon” He prompted quickly as he got up from his seat. “She’ll finally realize I was right all along about her cooking”

“Yes, I am sure she will,” Zeph said sarcastically.

Erika

I know Camilla is awake. The walls are thin and I can feel her worry inside my own heart. Feel her panic, feel her heartbeat inside my worried mind. I am sure Aiden and Zeph scared her, I am sure that she wants to go home.

I wish all of us could just go home, wherever that is.

Camilla

I left as soon as I woke up. I had no intention of running away from them, which I suppose I should have. The logical side of me told me that this was some next level Stockholm syndrome shit. The other side of me, a side that I wanted to believe, told me that this was my chance at doing something with my life. That this was a chance to figure out who I was and a chance to get away from the phantom of my old life.

It didn't take me long to realize that we were not in Denmark anymore since I wasn't able to read any of the signs. The cold weather and hills on the horizon indicated that we had possibly sailed to someplace north, like Norway or Greenland. It didn't matter to me where we were. As long as there was ground that I could cover.

I began running as soon as I found my way out of the small town. I ran for hours, for days, for years. I ran until I couldn't feel my legs, and then I ran some more.

I had never paid attention to my ability to run. I just assumed that everybody could run like me, but now I had to rethink. If what Erika said was true about me turning invisible, then it might be possible that I could also run faster than normal. The realization sent a thrill down my spine. It made me feel powerful and dangerous, and it made me run a little bit faster. I tried to push myself then. I tried to run even faster. I ended up throwing up and shaking, my lungs burning with a fire I didn't know I possessed. It felt like my feet were glowing. It felt like I was high on nicotine.

I ran back slower and made it to the boat around sunset. Erika was sitting on the deck, and she got up to look at me when I came.

“You look livid” She noted.

I didn't bother with a reply, but got a water bottle from a cooling box, emptied it in one go, then took another.

“You used your powers, didn't you?” She asked me with a sly smile.

“I suppose I did,” I remarked.

“Wasn't it nice? Just wait till you start training for real.”

“When do we leave?”

“As soon as Zeph comes back up. Shouldn’t take long.”

I nodded shortly and went back to my cabin.

-

I couldn't sleep that night. I was seasick and I was still high on the rush from running. I instead spend the night wandering the boat. I started with exploring my cabin, searching the drawers for stuff, then stepping carefully on the floorboards, listening to the creaking sound, trying to find something, anything worth taking. I’ve always had a bit of a problem with taking things that don't belong to me. It started when I was in the third grade, and I took on the habit of stealing small things from classmates who had wronged me. Kids are built to be ruthless, so I very quickly gathered a collection of stolen goods. Then I began living on the streets, and I used my skill of stealing to gather food and other essentials.

I am about to give up when I notice a curtain hanging on the wall. I can't believe I didn't see it before since it now is screaming at me to be removed. I don't bother with waiting, pulling the gray curtain down in one swift movement. There is no dust like I would have thought, and behind it is a big floor to ceiling mirror with a thick silver frame. It looks out of place like it should belong in a castle and not in a small boat.

I froze in place when I saw the mirror. It felt wrong inside of me, it was too silver, too bright, too clean. It made the room feel colder, made it feel more distant as if I was watching myself in another room while I was watching myself in the mirror.

Mirror Me was not like the real me. I just couldn't place it, because I couldn't stop looking at my own eyes. I have gray eyes. Like stone or a stormy cloud. Now my eyes were a different kind of gray, cooler and lighter. My breath cut in my throat when I realized that the new color of my eyes was the same silver color of the mirror’s frame.

I forced my gaze away from my eyes and noticed writing on the mirror itself, right underneath the frame. In curly letters, it read Månens Fantom. The Phantom of the Moon. It felt wrong to read something in my first language here.

I quickly put the curtain back on the mirror and left my cabin. My breath was visible in the cold hallway, but it still felt warmer than my cabin had just felt. I wanted to sit down but didn't want Erika to find me on the ground again. I instead found Zeph’s cabin again and went inside.

I planned to steal something, revenge for him knocking me out earlier. It didn't take me long to find a messenger bag in the corner. In it was mostly clothes and snacks, but I also found a small pocket knife. The blade was engraved the letters M and J. It looked like an important relic, and I quickly stuffed it into a pocket in my jacket. I searched some more, grew hungry, then ate some of Zeph’s chicken jerky, which he had multiple packages of in his cabin.

It was well past midnight when I began to feel tired, but I didn't want to sleep inside of the room with the mirror, so I took my old and trusty sleeping bag and slept in the hallway. I am well used to sleeping on the ground, so it wasn't long before I dozed off.

-

This night I dreamed. I was on the playground that used to be outside of my parents' house. It had been renovated years ago, but this was the old playground, with the blue slide and rusty monkey bars. I could hear a song coming towards me from the distance, some old bop from when I was younger, that I could remember but couldn't name.

Erika, Aiden, and Zeph were playing on the playground. I looked away towards the song, then looked back at them and saw that they were no longer playing. Aiden and Zeph were arguing, yelling at each other. Zeph’s hands were moving rapidly, cutting the air into sharp pieces. Aiden’s hands were crossed and his eyes were full of hurt, I just couldn't see if it was he who was hurt, or if he wanted to hurt Zeph. Erika was standing behind them, and she was looking at me in the eyes. I couldn't read her, but I knew she wanted me to do something, and it pained me not knowing what it was.

I tried walking towards them, but my legs were stuck. Legs are always stuck in dreams, so it didn't come as a surprise to me. I tried yelling, but I made no sound at all. Not even my breathing was audible.

The song stopped and Zeph and Aiden looked at me, while Erika looked away. Zeph threw something at me, and the silver knife that I had just stolen in the real world landed in front of my feet, but now two new letters were added to the blade. I tried to look at the letters, to figure out what they were, but the more I focused, the more my eyes hurt.

Zeph

I watched as Camilla left, then went back to steering the ship.

This had originally been Erika and Aiden’s mission alone, but they had called on me for backup. We had all known going into this, that Camilla would be hard to find, and possibly even harder to catch, but Erika was a firm believer in the power of persuasion. After meeting Erika and seeing just what she could do with her voice, I had started to wonder why I had ever thought fighting was the only solution to my problems. She had a way of getting into the good things inside of everybody, and manipulating that little sliver of goodness into something even greater. Erika had told Adi firmly, that she intended on talking Camilla into joining us.

In the end, Erika’s charm wasn't enough to get a hold of Camilla. Erika and Aiden had called me in as backup, thinking I might be able to catch Camilla if she ran again. Speed was not my field of expertise, but the winds were. I had mastered the skill of controlling everything from breezes to storms, and I was able to push myself forward with the wind, reaching speeds higher than most humans. It was not very impressive compared to Camilla, whom we had observed running about forty-five kilometer per hour at one point, but with the help of the glider Adi had built me, I could properly keep up with her.

It had not been necessary for me to use my glider or my speed, unfortunately, because I had used another power of mine. The element of surprise. It's not an actual power that I possess, but I still used it to my advantage. I had waited for Camilla where Erika had told me to be, and summoned a baseball bat, prepared for anything. Camilla had not seen me at first, so I had a few seconds to get the brightest idea of hitting her in the head and finishing this chase for good. It worked, until Erika started yelling at me for using brutality.

I have a tendency to revert to violence in the heat of the moment. It's not because I am a violent or aggressive person, but because I just panic a bit and do the first thing that comes to mind. The fact that hitting someone is the first thing that pops to mind when I am panicking might be a red flag. I just don't know what the red flag is supposed to warn me about.

If Javier was here, he’d tell me I was overreacting. Javier was calm like that, always telling me to take a step back and breathe deeply.

But now he isn't here to tell me, which means I am the one who reminds myself to stay chill.

It was amusing to watch and talk to Camilla after she woke up. She was clearly frightened, but she tried to hide it. She had few possessions, but they were dear to her. She was hostile with her words but knew better than to throw a punch without being threatened.

It was like looking at a younger version of myself, but with longer hair and none of my grace.

I understood her better than Erika ever could. Which was impressive. Erika was our expert in understanding humans and whatever non human thing we were, and she was damn good at her job. Still, she did not know what life was like for people with no home. She always tried to apply emotions to people who had spent years getting rid of them.

Even though it was over thirty years since I was recruited, I still remember the time before joining the Organisation clearly. Me and Javier had been Drifters, Tethered humans who kept to themselves instead of working with the Organisation. We traveled Europe for years, surviving on our own, helping those who the Organisation didn't want to help. The Organisation has always been a bit slow when it comes to human rights. I think it's because of all of the old people. Our current leader Adi is from the 18th-century, and properly still a bit behind.

Me and Javier traveled a lot, and we did a lot of stupid things we thought were smart back then. We built multiple safehouses around Europe and filled it with people who we could smoke and drink with. We explored and we danced in the moonlight and we were young. It all ended abruptly. We were in Spain when we met another Drifter. Javier ended up badly hurt after we fought the guy, and I did not know how to heal him. Tethered people can only die if they are killed by another Tethered. That meant Javier could have died if I had not taken him with me to the Organization. They saved him, and we decided to stay with them.

After joining the Organization, something happened. Maybe it was something I did, or maybe a series of events that led to it, but Javier and I started drifting apart slowly. We got new friends, we sometimes didn't even have time to talk for days. I sometimes think that it was bound to happen, like maybe we were destined to fly higher, faster than anybody, only to slowly fall down and hit the ground. Javier hit the ground first in 2004 when he was killed on a mission.

The ocean was moving rapidly beneath the ship as I steered it. The sea always managed to make me feel more than usual. It changes all the time, it is always moving, always on the go. Still, it stays the same. The sea looks the same, no matter what year it is. No matter who lives or who dies. It feels a bit like a promise. I have yet to find out what for.

We had decided to stop by Iceland on the way. Adi and Shira needed more materials, and Aiden wanted to buy some freshly smoked salmon. I think it's supposed to be an act of rebellion since he finds Morrigan's salmon inedible. It was true that Morrigan was not a good cook, but after Miriam died she had taken up the chore of making us all food. I used to think she did it because of grief, but now I think it's out of boredom. Morrigan rarely goes on missions, since she is more useful at the base.

I harbored the boat at midnight, then went to bed in my cabin. It was nice being out on a mission, and I looked forward to getting to know Camilla. To see her open up just like me and Javier had slowly opened up. It wasn't the first time I had seen new people arrive, but it was the first time I had been this invested in it.

-

I am the first up in the morning, as always. Aiden is a late sleeper, and Erika usually stays in her room doing whatever she does. I asked her if she was praying or doing yoga, but she only laughed and said not quite. I don't know what that’s supposed to mean.

I don't bother with breakfast but instead leave the ship immediately, feeling a bit seasick. It's been a long time since I’ve been to Iceland, and I am surprised to find it this cold. Then I am surprised over my own surprise.

There are a lot of fishing boats, and people are already walking around in the morning fog. I buy a coffee and a bagel and enjoy it in the warmth of the small café. A pretty lady comes up to me, and I start a conversation with her until Erika shows up and slides into the seat next to me, leaning closer to me until the pretty lady leaves.

“Jealous?” I ask her as she takes a bite of my bagel.

“You wish, Zeph.”

I laugh at that. Me and Erika are close, but we aren't dating or anything like that.

“So, what can I help you with?” I say as we both get up to leave.

“Nothing much.” She says, and I keep looking at her, waiting for her to tell me what she wants to say.

We reach a bridge and Erika stops in the middle, looking at me.

“What did you and Camilla talk about yesterday?”

I feign surprise and she rolls her eyes with a smile. “Nothing that mattered,” I told her. “But I did invite her to my cabin.”

Erika hit my arm. “You big flirt.”

“What did you expect?” I chortled. “You know my type has always been dark-haired people.”

“You are dark-haired people.”

“Maybe I am my own type. Maybe I would like to date myself.”

“Maybe.”

Camilla

Being knocked out is very much different from falling asleep. Sleep is like diving into your mind, seeing with closed eyes, walking without moving. Sleep is filled with dreams, and dreams are filled with wants. Dreams are filled with nightmares, and dreams are filled with memories. Sometimes I like sleeping, I let go of my worries and rest. Sometimes I hate sleeping, for my nightmares aren't kind to me. My nightmares also seem to just be twisted memories, terrors I’ve seen in the waking world, come alive once again inside my mind.

Sleeping is a thing I can have opinions on, and I have a lot of opinions, but being knocked out is entirely different. You don't dream when you are forced unconscious. It feels a lot like closing your eyes, and opening them again hours later. It's a blackout, without any alcohol in my veins, only a strong headache from where I was hit.

It takes me precious seconds to remember that I was hit, and along with that memory comes all the ones with Erika, Aiden and me pinned against a brick wall. I shoot up from where I was laying and looks around, only to realize that I have truly been kidnapped.

I am sitting on a bed inside a claustrophobic wooden room. I am not a claustrophobic person, I am properly the opposite, since I am a bit frightened by big, open spaces, but this room feels too small to me a normal room. The thought that it might be a basement crosses my mind briefly, but I push it aside quickly due to the four windows where my only light comes from.

I get up on wobbly legs and look out one of the windows, suspecting to see the streets of Copenhagen outside. I don't. I don't see those familiar streets or any streets at all. I see dark and murky water, and a city quickly disappearing in the horizon. I was on a boat. My knuckles go white as I grip onto the edge of the window, and I forget how to breathe. How could I be so out of touch with my surroundings, that I couldn't feel the floor moving? Couldn't smell the salt water? Couldn't hear the ship around me moving? I feel so terribly out of touch, like a stranger in my own life. I’ve experienced being knocked unconscious before, I’ve experienced waking up in strange places before, but I always snuck out, always made my way back. Now I don't know what to do, and that in itself is the scariest feeling. Another version of me who is calm, calculated and perfect would have done something. Made up a plan, searched the room for something useful. She would have hidden somewhere, waiting for the boat to dock and then start over again. A perfect me would have done something other than cry and look at the sea that just ruined everything I had built for myself.

That was how Erika found me. Shaking, crying, violent. A weak and scared creature, trying to close her eyes and fall back to sleep.

Erika took me by the shoulders and led me towards the bed where I had woken up. She drew a blanket around my shoulders while she cooed at me. She gave me a glass of water and pulled a chair over to sit beside me. All the while she did this, I started feeling worse. Now I wasn't only frightened, I was also embarrassed. I just wanted to close my eyes again and wake up back in my own alleyway.

I suddenly wished that this was just another nightmare, then laughed through my sobs. My nightmares are strange, but they are not waking up at sea with no way back strange.

Erika notices my little sad laugh and takes the empty glass from my hands. “Are you feeling better now?”

I want to snap at her. Of course I am not feeling better, but somehow I can't find it in me to say so.

“A bit,” I mumbled.

“I am really sorry,” Erika said sincerely. “We don't usually do this.” She waved her hand around, indicating either the boat or the kidnapping.

“What do you do then?” I asked calmly, looking at her dark brown eyes.

“How am I to know, this is the first time I am on a mission to recruit a new Tethered.” She joked. I didn't smile.

“What does that word mean?”

“Tethered?” She paused. Thinking. “It's a kind of human. Like a witch. It's a person like me or Aiden or you.”

“I am not a witch.”

“No. But you are like one.” Erika began explaining. “Think of it like this: Every human can learn how to swim, how to draw, how to cook. Some are better than others, some are masters at one thing and some are a jack of all trades. Then imagine if their ability to learn skills were limitless. If they could learn how to control the fabric of the world, the laws of nature. That's what we are. We are Tethered to the core of the universe.”

For some reason I believed her. My intuition told me that Erika was being honest right now, but being honest right now is not the same as being an honest person. I didn’t have to trust her as a person even if I trusted her words. I knew there were secrets hidden behind her eyes, inside her hair, underneath her tongue.

“And you think that I am one of you?” I asked.

“I don't think. I know,” Erika replied without missing a beat.

“How come?”

“When doing superhuman things, we leave behind superhuman trails. A disturbance in the strings of the universe.”

“You’ve been tracking me with your witchcraft.”

“Yes. Since the first time you used your powers six years ago,” Erika stated like that wasn't creepy. “Which, by the way, is a new record. You managed to stay hidden from us for six years. Very impressive. We started betting on you three years ago. Some people thought you were so out of touch with your own powers, that you didn't use them enough for us to find you.”

“And what did you bet on?” I questioned.

“That you knew what you were doing, so much that you learned to cover up your tracks. Which I still believe. After all, I saw you turn invisible.”

“You did?” I asked in surprise.

Erika must have misunderstood my confusion. “Yes. Aiden and I saw you disappear into thin air the other day as soon as you saw us.”

“But I didn't.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I didn't turn invisible, I just tried to blend in and hide.”

“Oh.” Erika smiled. “You might be a bit more interesting than I thought.”

“I’m sorry?” I repeated after her, which made her laugh. I thought to myself that her laugh sounded like honey felt, then pushed that thought aside and blamed it on my deranged state.

The door opened and Aiden poked his head inside. He spoke in a language I didn't know, and Erika responded quickly and got up.

“Are you to be trusted?” Aiden asked me in English.

“Depends,” I answered honestly. “What were you speaking?”

“French; the language of love.” Someone hummed from behind Aiden. It was the same guy who had knocked me unconscious.

The two boys stepped fully into the room. Aiden either looked bored or pissed, maybe a bit of both. His ginger hair was cut short on the sides, and it made him look like a famous cartoon character that I couldn't remember the name of. He wore completely black clothes, the only spark of color being a red and yellow text on his shirt, saying “Bad Boy With a Tainted Heart”. He had silver earrings and a stud in his nose.

“Hey, we meet again!” The Baseball Bat man exclaimed. He wore a too-big letterman jacket in blue and gray colors, and underneath was a fuzzy, light gray sweater. His hair was fuzzy too, curling around his head like a brown helmet. My eyes very quickly landed and stayed on his eyebrows. They were formed like dark, bushy rectangles and were hard to miss. Underneath the bushes were a set of chilly gray eyes, then underneath those were his toothpaste-commercial smile with dimples on either side.

“Name’s Zeph” He smiled while giving me his hand to shake. I simply looked at it until he pulled it away with a sheepish grin. “Still sour about earlier? Im sorry ‘bout that, really.”

“You guys are apologizing a lot,” I stated.

“That’s because we are sorry,” said Erika.

There was a moment of silence. Zeph moved to the window and opened it. Aiden layed down on the ground, closing his eyes. Erika continued to sit by my bed.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“The base,” Zeph chirped. “Just you wait. You’ll love it there.”

“Is is filled with more maniacs?” I asked.

“Yes,” Aiden answered at the same time that Erika said “No.”

“Well, normal humans might think we are a bit strange, but I do think you’ll come to enjoy our company,” Erika elaborated.

I highly doubted her. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the odd one out. I had trouble relating to kids my age, to my parents or to anyone really. It always felt like I had missed the day when the other kids were taught how to socialize, how to have fun, how to be normal. I remember one day talking to a girl from my class, and she told me how sad she was that her dog died, and I just remember telling her that she’ll die one day too. Somehow that didn't seem to help her very much, even though it was the truth. I was the same around my parents, always snapping at them or ignoring them, until one day they weren't there and I couldn't find it in myself to miss them. That was maybe the first time I wanted to be like everyone else. I just wanted to cry and to grieve because that was what people did, but I just couldn't. I had to accept that I’d never feel like anyone else, but that I could pretend I did. The worst part is that I know this is an unhealthy coping mechanism, but I just can't stop doing it.

“Okay.” I answered Erika while getting up, then changing the topic. “Can I go to the deck, or am I confined to my room?”

Zeph laughed from the window. “Depends.”

The repeatment of my own words agitated me. I felt like Zeph didn't take me seriously, like I was a child.

“Thats a yes then,” I answered for myself and left before any of them could say something against me.

The air was cold outside, and a fog lay thick upon the waters. I couldn't see the outline of a city anymore, only water. A shiver ran down my spine as I took a hold of the metal railing. I hate to admit it, but I’ve never been out sailing in my entire life. After moving to Denmark, my mother decided she had had enough of traveling, and my father was happy to oblige. We stayed in the country every summer, and only traveled by car or train. The boat rocked slightly under my feet, and I felt like I was going to be sick.

I sat down on the deck and searched my pockets. I wasn't a frequent smoker, too afraid of becoming addicted, but sometimes I’d get a hold of a packet and keep them for when I really need to calm down. I can't remember how I started smoking, it just sort of happened. None of my parents had been smokers, so it wasn't a sentimental thing. Maybe I had acquired the habit from hanging out with other low-class teens, who had made a habit of taking drugs and drinking as a way to escape daily life. I had always been too scared of drugs, since I knew just how well they could fuck somebody over, and alcohol didn't seem very tempting because of the hangover that would come after drinking.

I lit my cigarette and tried to ignore the way the boat moved beneath me. I closed my eyes and tried to come up with a plan. I had to get a hold of my backpack, and I was sure that it was on the ship. I always knew from a gut feeling when my trusted backpack was close to me, but now Erika had implanted the thought that it might be more than just a gut feeling. I was still sceptical towards all of this magic-humans stuff, but it did provide answers to questions about myself, like how I had managed to stay out of the police’s grasp for so long.

Even though I was decidedly open minded towards the idea of magic, I knew that I wouldn't trust any of these people. I wouldn't let myself trust any of them. I could smell lies from a mile away, and these three people all stank. It made me wonder how many lies all of their friends had. I didn't intend to uncover their truths, I honestly didn't care about them, but I knew from experience that people who lie the most are also the most likely to spot one, and I was a living lie waiting to be found. I closed my eyes and inhaled another huff of smoke, trying to get a better look at the person I’d have to play. They would soon want to know how I had ended up homeless, and I suspected that was something I could give an honest answer to. Running away from bad foster homes was a common backstory amongst runaway teens, and it was one of the only truths I could give about myself without feeling like I was giving myself away. I couldn't tell them anything about my parents or all the things I had done while homeless.

In retrospect, sea sickness and cigarettes wasn't a good mix. I ended up hurling the little food I had in my stomach over the railing, then laying on the deck with my hands over my eyes to block out the strong light from the sun, my head pounding terribly.

“You dead?” Zeph asked me, with a cheer that rubbed me the wrong way. I hadn't heard him approach me, which irritated me. This was the fourth time one of the three had snuck up on me today. It was a clear pattern that I didn't like very much.

“Is that a wish?” I asked him, pulling myself together and getting up. I tried to ignore the way my stomach flipped, and gave him a cold look, which he returned with a smile.

“No” Zeph said. “It's a concern. Ever heard of those?” When I didn't answer, he continued. “Erika told me that you have been homeless for nearly five years. I know that people aren't friendly towards homeless people.”

There was the obvious trail to follow. He indicated that he might also have been homeless, and I could see it in the way he carded his hands through his hair that he wanted me to ask about it, but I had decided that I didn't want to get close to any of them.

“Is Erika the only stalker amongst you?” I asked him instead. “Or are all of you crazy?”

“This again? Come on, we explained why we tracked you,” Zeph told me with an amused smile on his lips. “But Erika was the one assigned to your case. Which, by the way, meant very much to her. It’s been ages since she was in charge of a mission, so please don't screw anything up.”

“I won't promise you anything,” I said, going over to the ladder that lead inside the boat where the cabin I had woken up in was. I looked over my shoulder at Zeph, who was leaning against the railing, the wind blowing through his curly hair. “Where’s my stuff?”

“I knew you’d ask that.” He grinned. “It's in the first cabin on your left. That’s also my cabin, by the way, if you ever feel lonely, you know where to find me.”

Zeph winked at me as I left, rolling my eyes at him. I didn't imagine that I’d ever want to talk to Zeph of my own coalition.

It was easy to find my stuff, and as soon as my hand closed around the strap I inhaled a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I took my things and ran into what I assumed was my cabin, sighing in relief at finding it empty. I closed the door and pushed the handle upwards and left, a trick I had learned that would lock most doors.

Emptying the contents of my bag was a relief. I rummaged through the mess, making sure no things were missing. I only had one extra set of clothes, but it was my passport, photobook and sim-card I was most worried about. My passport was essential for me if I wanted to leave Denmark, which seemed kind of pointless now. The sim-card was from my old phone, and it contained all my contacts from back when I was living with my parents. I had never been good at remembering numbers, and I had no use for a phone anymore, so I had only kept the sim-card, hiding it in a small, secret pocket of my backpack.

The photobook was the only sentimental thing I had allowed myself to keep. It was filled with pictures of me and my parents. I had since taking it also added photos of the few friends I had during school, and diary entries from the days I wanted to remember. In some of the pockets were letters my father had sent me after being deployed, in others were euros that my mother had kept. I kept jewelry in it too, though not much. Most of it was my mother’s, as I had never been the type to wear necklaces and earrings.

Camilla

After running for half an hour, then a whole hour of a panic attack behind a dumpster, I finally managed to find a place to sleep. It was early spring in Denmark, which meant short days, and it was safer to sleep when normal citizens were still outside.

Even though I managed to calm myself down that day, Erika and Aiden kept haunting me. And not just in dreams and thoughts, but in the real world too. I kept seeing them in the crowd. Sometimes walking, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, but always, always, looking. I knew they were looking for me. Maybe they were undercover cops or social workers. I even thought they were long lost relatives, trying to find me, but I highly doubted that. My mother’s family disowned her and any relatives from my father’s side would have spoken Danish to me.

Or maybe they were my mother’s relatives, come to collect what she left behind. Jokes on them, I am not going with them, no matter who they are.

I am very used to hiding from someone. When I was young, still living with my parents, I went to a small public school. I didn't get along with any of the kids there, so I’d spend every break hiding behind the trees on the playground, reading books or playing with sticks. Sometimes just sitting there, thinking. I don't remember what I thought about, I just remember the feeling of it. Life felt infinite, but yet so small. The whole world existed in that corner of the playground, and the whole world existed inside my thoughts.

I still feel like that sometimes, but now it leaves me sad. It's a cruel memory of the kid I used to be, who still lives inside of me. I guess this is the price of living as I do.

Seeing Erika and Aiden again today, I sigh in annoyance. They are standing in front of the fast-food joint where I had been hoping Stuart might be working. The old man sometimes gave me a box of chicken nuggets when there were leftovers.

Instead of approaching the pair, I snuck into the shop beside me. It was one of the mint-white colored shops, with a big sign on the front saying Normal. This place was like heaven for a homeless kid with little to no money. I didn't like begging, but when I did, I usually ended up spending my finds inside of this shop. It had everything, from rows and rows of every kind of soap, maxi size and travel size, there were toiletries, underwear, snacks, and tampons.

Those last two were what caught my eye. I had woken up today with a stain in my sleeping back and only two tampons left, and for the snacks, well I was always in the mood for pringles when my period hit.

Staring at the items of my desire did little to no good since I didn't have the money to buy it. In fact, I only had a couple of kroner in my pockets, not even enough for a pack of gum. So I did what I always did, I took them. Shoplifting was a skill I had as good as perfected. It was all about blending in with the other customers. I took two packets of tampons to compare them, but only one of them ended up back on the self. The other was smoothly placed in the worn-out net that I had taken with me today. I did the same thing with deodorant and pringles but stayed a bit longer to browse the shelves. Better not to rush out and raise suspicion.

After a minute or two, I left the shop with a confident smile on my lips. I couldn't wait to go back to where I hid my backpack and sleeping bag, so I could open up my Pringles can and devour them, one spicy chip after the other.

I wasn't that lucky, however, because as soon as I left the shop, I ran face-first into an old friend of mine. Officer Sunglasses. I didn't know his real name, never intended on finding out, but the truth was that he was the worst of all the pigs who patrolled the area. Officer Sunglasses had something against me personally. He knew I was homeless and had tried to help me get back into the foster system when he first took me in stealing a jacket, but I ran away from him successfully. One escape became twenty, and Officer Sunglasses' hatred of me grew more and more.

“Din lille-” He said. You little. The start of an insult he never got to finish, for I ran as fast as I could as soon as I saw him. Judging by his angry tone and the footsteps behind me, he had followed me.

I followed the quiet streets with fewer people to run into and fewer cars to run me over. I was fast, faster than him, so I used that to my advantage. If I was completely honest with myself, which I rarely was, I enjoyed this. I could feel the adrenaline inside myself, it felt like it drowned out every molecule of blood in my body. The wind felt nice too, it wasn't windy today at all, but as I ran the air cooled me down pleasantly.

It didn't take me long to shake Officer Sunglasses off my tail, but then I ran into another misfortune.

As I rounded a corner, I was suddenly standing in an alleyway, with Aiden standing in front of me, smiling.

“Hey, glad you made it.” He greeted me like we were old friends. I tilted my head in mock confusion and prepared to fight. I was sure that if I turned around, I’d see that Erika girl standing behind me.

“Let us talk, okay?” Erika appealed. Just as I’d guessed, she was standing right behind me. I turned halfway so I could keep an eye on both of them.

“What do you fucking want?” I raged. I had a pocket knife in my sleeve, and I was itching to pull it, but I had a suspicion that they might pull something worse on me, like a gun. I was completely sure that they were not afraid of fighting me, and I was afraid that I could not take on both of them. I could run, but I was also tired of them. It had been a week since they first approached me, and whatever they wanted to say, I wanted to hear. That last realization was scary.

“I know Aiden here came on a bit strong back in the library,” Erika started.

“Okay in my defense,” Aiden cut in. “We have been looking for her for years, and finally we find her in fucking Denmark!”

I glared at Aiden but didn't bother saying anything.

“Aiden please, we agreed that I’d do this.” Erika pleaded, then looked directly at me with her dark, dark brown eyes. “Camilla, this might sound really strange, and it is, but Aiden and I are a part of an underground…”

“Cult,” Aiden helped.

“No!” Erika yelled at him. “No, it's not a cult. It's like an organization of humans with special abilities.”

“Just say mental disabilities, for helvede.” I cursed, already knowing that this wasn't something I wanted to hear more of. I tried to push away, but suddenly Aiden’s hands were on my shoulders and my back was against the wall.

“See! I said kidnapping her would be easier. She is a stray cat, Erika,” Aiden laughed. I kicked him but that didn't seem to help me at all, as his grip on me got tighter.

“Yes, she is.” Erika agreed. “She is a stray, and we have to feed her before we take her back home.”

“You guys are fucking sick,” I said with disgust.

“I am sorry.” Erika just said. “But if you would just listen to us, we could explain. You are one of us.” She said the last part like it was supposed to mean something to me. I took the liberty of interpretation and shot back with “A fucking psychopath? Stalker? Kidnapper?”

“No,” Erika said while trying to calm me down. I could see that she was getting a bit frustrated with me. Good, I thought, let her feel what I have felt all week.

“Ever wondered why things just,” Erika began explaining, searching for the right words for whatever she wanted to say. “Go your way?”

“Things don't go my way,” I said, gesturing with my restricted hand movement to our surroundings, both indicating my current position between Aiden and the wall, but also my life as of lately, living on the streets in the bold age of nineteen.

“No, not that,” Erika pushed away. “Smaller things. How do you survive out here? And for so long? Without ever being caught?”

I didn't bother to say anything, so Erika continued. “Me, Aiden here and a few other people on this planet, we have a connection to the forces of life.”

“Like a Jedi,” Aiden explained as if that helped me the slightest.

“Yes,” Erika agreed. “Aiden, for example, is very good at controlling heat and can even make fires. Show her.” Erika bumped Aiden with her shoulder.

“Really?” Aiden grinned, letting go of me and pulling up his sleeves. I reached for my knife quietly, as Aiden took a few steps back.

I didn't know what I had expected. That he brought a lighter and started a fire? That he didn't do anything at all? I surely didn't expect him to light his own hands on fire. As soon as I saw the bright lights, I ran, getting a hit on Erika’s shoulder with my knife as I disappeared.

It wasn't the first time I had seen what drugs could do to someone’s mind, but it was the first time I experienced it myself. I couldn't figure out when I had taken them and figured someone must have slipped them into my food or water without me noticing.

As soon as I was sure they were not following me, I headed towards my temporary camp, just wanting to curl up in my sleeping back. Tomorrow I’d be starting my journey out of the capital and heading for another city, maybe Roskilde or Helsingør. Or perhaps this was a sign for me to do the things I had feared for years. Traveling out of Denmark and through Europe. Because of my Italian mother, getting Italian citizenship would be easy, and the prospect of living down in the warmer country sounded delightful, but the journey was what scared me. I didn't even have enough money to buy food in Denmark, let alone a ticket for any kind of train. I’d had to rely on sneaking into places I wasn't supposed to be or walking for hours on end.

I rounded a corner and saw the familiar sight of my baggage hidden behind a trash can, and almost sang in relief. I had enough time to take one step more towards it before I saw the boy sitting on the ground between me and my goal. In his hand was a baseball bat. Never a good sign. He stood up and looked at me, then his watch.

“Two minutes,” he commented. “That’s pretty damn fast.”

Camilla

   What I hate most about Copenhagen, is it’s canals. They are easy enough to avoid, so that is usually what I do, but the few times where I had seen them, bad things had happened. Sometimes not immediately, sometimes not even the same day, but that didn't matter. The canals always brought bad things my way. One day, when someone was following me, I had the misfortune of stumbling into one of the wretched things, and not an hour later was I robbed for 50 kroner. Another evening, I was walking a drunk friend home when she decided to take a short-cut over the canal. She never came home. That last misfortune still haunted me somewhat, but at least it made me stop drinking.

   Call it paranoia, but I believe it's some sort of curse, the kind of curse that I have to break. I’ve always had a thing for fairytales when I was a kid, and this idea might be some sort of resurfment of that little girl. I kinda miss her, but that doesn't mean I regret running away.

   I ran away when I was 14. I had just been placed in my first ever foster home, and their other foster kid planted the idea in my head, told me that he had run away multiple times. So when the first hit from the foster parents came, I ran. That was five years ago, and I had yet to regret that decision. Cold mornings waking up in an alley, nights spent walking aimlessly through small towns, days running from cops or harassers, and still I saw myself as lucky. As free.

   Today was a good day, I thought. It was a little gloomy, the air dusty with fog, but it was calm. I had woken up to birds singing in tune with the wind, I had stolen a new shirt and I actually liked it for once. I wasn't hungry, didn't feel as dirty as I used to, hadn’t been chased by anyone. It was nice, but it also felt a bit boring, like I didn't know what I was supposed to do with myself if I wasn't fighting for my own life.

   So I decided to go to the library. It was the perfect place to spend the day. I could sit down and read, or check up on the news. The bathroom was also free to use, so I went there first.

   As soon as I locked the door behind me, I looked into the mirror. I didn't feel like my appearance had changed that much through the years. Same long black-brown hair, same weird eyebrows, same mole on my cheekbone. What had changed was my clothes. I used to just wear a shirt and low waist jeans, call it an outfit. Now I had layers of torn, overused clothes in dark colors. All of it stolen, either from shops or from teens who had thought it would be cool or rebellious to befriend a homeless kid. The beanie I wore was from a suitcase someone had left behind on the train station, easier to take a single item from it than take the whole thing and get caught.

   I spend a lot of time in there. Washing my hands, face and hair, cutting nails, rinsing the scabs on my hands with the disinfection I had stolen. I brushed my teeth, and drank as much water as I could. I took a piss, washed my hands a last time, filled my falsk and left.

   Browsing through books, I knew I had to find something useful. A text book or something future me could use if I ever wanted to rejoin society, but I really just felt like relaxing today, so I picked up one of those coming of age books, and settled down in one of the reading nooks.

   I had been reading for only a short while, when I heard footsteps approaching.

   “Anyone sitting here?” Someone asked. I was shocked at first, confused not by the question, but by the language. The girl, who had dark skin and bleached blonde hair that curled like clouds, was speaking English to me. The international language wasn't anything unusual to hear in Copenhagen, but for a girl who usually avoided even talking to people who spoke Danish, hearing English sent up unpleasant memories. Memories of my mother talking in hushed English, or her singing Amy Winehouse to me when the weather turned cold. Memories of my parents yelling at each other in English.

   My mother is from Italy, and her Danish isn't very good, so her and my father usually switched to English when it was important, and my mother rarely spoke Danish to me. I was surprised I even knew the language when the girl spoke to me, but I answered her clearly with my mom’s Italian accent, mixed in with my own Danish to create something that properly sounded way more exotic that I was.

   “No, just me.”

   “Just you?” The girl said as she sat down, and I realized that it was a question, like she was asking for what a ‘you’ was.

   “Mille” I lied easily. Never give out your real name when you are on the police watch list for breaking every kind of law that could be broken.

   “Erika” She told me her name, and I could see it in the way she smiled that it was the truth. I smiled back to her and continued reading, now with this Erika distracting me. She wasn't doing anything, just reading like me, but I always had my guard up when I was this close to someone else.

   And it was a good thing that I had kept my focus on the surrounding sounds, because a couple minutes later, another pair of footsteps approached, this time quieter than Erika’s.

   “You know, you are very hard to find,” The guy said. I assumed he was speaking to Erika, since his voice was unfamiliar and was also standing in front of her, but for a girl on the run, those words were very frightening to hear. I slowly closed one of my hands around my bag, strummed my fingers on the spine of the book, ready to throw a punch if necessary. Who cared if I got banned from this library, there were many more I could lounge in.

   Then he said something that send shivers down my spine. “Camilla.”

    As soon as he started saying my name, a name I hadn’t used since I first ran, my hand moved. I finally looked up at him as I was about to hit him, but at that moment, Erika pulled my other shoulder, hard, making my punching hand retreat to rub my aching shoulder.

   “Aiden for fucks sake!” Erika yelled at the boy. “We were supposed to do this peacefully. Not frighten her, talk to her like civil people, that kind of stuff.”

Miriam

 It's strange from the bottom of the sea. Depending on how deep you’ve gone, the sun might not even reach you, but if the light does find a way down to you, it’s even more bizarre. It's like standing in a desert, devoid of anything living, except you and your heartbeat. There is no air around you, but only vision-slurring, body-cooling, sound-removing water.

   Back when Miriam was still a kid, she would sometimes find herself standing on a beach, listening to the waves. If she was feeling especially brave, she would even take a few steps out into the dark blue ocean. Miriam likes to think that she already back then knew where her real home was.

   And home she was. She was standing in the Glass Pyramid, an ancient building beneath the Atlantic ocean that the first Tethered humans had built. It was a sanctuary for people like Miriam; hidden from the normal humans who weren't supposed to know about this more divine breed of humans. The Glass Pyramid was separated into fifteen floors, each one smaller than the one beneath it. Right now, Miriam was standing on the top floor of the building, with a mug in hand while looking out into the ocean through the clear walls. In the nineteen sixties, a deep diver had accidentally stumbled into the pyramid. It had been a hazard getting hold of his film and destroy it, and it had been even more tedious having to set up barriers that blocked normal humans from viewing the pyramid. In the end, though, it ended up being worth it. The Glass Pyramid felt even safer than before, and that made Miriam proud.

   Miriam had been elected forty-two years ago when the last leader died. It was no surprise that Miriam had been elected since it had become a tradition to have the oldest, and therefore most experienced, Tethered be the leader. Miriam was currently a little over two hundred years old, which was impressive for a Tethered person.

   Tethered people could, in theory, live forever. Once they reached the age of nineteen they stopped aging, both physically and mentally. The reason why the immortality was only a theory, was that most Tethered couldn’t stand the long life. Miriam had seen many dear friends kill themselves to end their inhumanly long life, and she had even thought about doing so herself. Then twenty-two years ago, Erika had come to the Pyramid, and all of Miriam's thoughts about ending her own life vanished. Then two years ago, Erika had woken Miriam up on a quiet Sunday morning, whispering into Miriam’s ear, and now Miriam couldn't even understand why she had ever thought about leaving the world.

  Now there were two minutes until Erika and her team would come back from their mission. Miriam didn't have to check the time. She knew it from the way the ocean moved, from the way the ground shook slightly. Most people don't realize how much the planet is moving, but, Miriam supposed, most people didn't live long enough to even have to think of it.

   Miriam saw the shapes of bodies swimming towards her.

   Two seconds.

   It had been nearly two hundred years since Miriam first swam towards the Glass Pyramid. She remembered looking at it for the first time and knowing that this was going to be her forever home. It was love at first sight. Back then, the pyramid had been decorated into carpeted floors and lavish furniture. Miriam had never seen such a beautiful place, and it simply took her breath away. When she closed her eyes, she could still remember the feel of the ornamental rug that used to be in the sitting room.

   Miriam took a sip of her tea at the same time the team broke through the glass walls. Erika fell first, landing on her feet, out of breath, with a smile on her face, which was very much an Erika thing to do.

   Erika looked at Miriam. She said, “Mission was a success.”

   Then the others fell through the roof.

   Miriam didn't bother staying any longer. Signaling to Erika, she nodded and took the firepole down. She reached her office quickly, moving swiftly through the maze-like building. Over the years, the Glass Pyramid had had many inhabitants, all of them leaving their own touch on the place, and the result was a cramped and cozy mess. Miriam liked it very much, every day she would learn something new about the Pyramid and all the people before her.

    Inside her office, she pressed the yellow button on the wall. Meeting. The buzzer sounded through the radio system, and the sound of people moving on other floors was clear as day for Miriam’s practiced ears.

 Back when Miriam was still living her normal life, she would sometimes sneak up to the attic. If she sat on the big old crate, she could see through the hole in the roof. From there, she used to listen to the wind. It made a peculiar sound when it entered that little hole. Like a whistling, like a song. Miriam came up to the attic often, trying to figure out how the wind sang like that. One day she managed to figure it out, and she managed to make the wind sing different songs. That was the first time she ever used her powers.

   The meeting was brief. It wasn't even an important mission, only a collapsed building. The most important part of the mission, was for the team to figure out what caused the incident. Miriam had hoped it might be a new Tethered human, they could always use more hands, but unfortunately, it had only been an earthquake.

   “I managed to help the civilians out of the site,” Erika reported  “Meanwhile Aiden and Shira tried to minimize the damage. Lynn checked on the town’s aqueduct, making sure the earthquake hadn’t caused a leak.”

  “Thank you, Erika,” Miriam said as Erika sat herself back down in the chair. Miriam looked around at all the people gathered. “Anything more?”

   “Yes, actually” Adi said, rising from his seat. After Miriam, Adi was the oldest. He didn't do missions any more, but stayed in the Pyramid where he made magical objects and provided everyone with valuable knowledge from his many studies. “I’ve been looking at the data Zeph and Javier collected. Someone is definitely using magic in Scandinavia regularly. Possibly a new Tethered. ”

   Miriam looked over at Zeph, his head was hanging low and his arms clinging to nothing on the table. Miriam was almost certain his eyes were closed. Zeph had been on a mission to Germany two months ago, along with Javier their healer and tracking expert. Only one of them had returned.

   Although these immortal humans could die, it was a rare sight. And Javier’s death was stranger than most. No suicide note, no traces of the murderer other than the fact that Javier’s heart had suddenly grown out of his chest.

   Miriam shook her head as if to banish the image. “Okay. We’ll send someone out in a few days. For now, I want everyone to enjoy being in a full house. Meeting over.”

   Everyone were quick to get out, the mention of Javier’s name stinging a bit too much. Miriam gave Zeph a friendly pat on the shoulder as he left, and Erika who trailed behind Zeph touched Miriam’s elbow briefly with light fingers. It made Miriam smile. A sad kind of smile, nostalgic and regretful, longing and missing.

  The rest of the day was so normal it began to feel strange. There was training, watching television, forgetting to drink water, reading the current news while eating noodles from a cup even thought there was perfectly good food in the fridge. Miriam could feel something underneath her skin, and it was not the normal sensation of youthful magic flowing in her old veins. The feeling was much more human, it made her feel dread down to her bones. It made her feel suspicious.

   Miriam decided to go for a swim. She knew the ocean would welcome her and make her worries wash away, just like it always did. And it worked. As soon as she stepped outside, she smiled. She closed her eyes and she swam. Twisting in joy, shaking her hands just to feel the comforting weight of the water restricting her movement. She ran her hands through her hair, and it was like touching silk. She breathed in, breathed out, like a fish.

   She was at home.