Hide and Seek

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She scrabbled up the side of the tree, bare hands scraping against the rough bark as she searched for traction. Her shoes were worn so far through that she could feel the bark against her feet, and she gave a sigh of relief as she finally pulled herself up to a crook in the branches. She breathed softly through her mouth, shifting until she was at least somewhat comfortable.

She braced her feet against the branches and let her arms hang down, her canvas bag hanging from her wrist and blending in with the bark behind it. The first time she’d been out here, in the wilderness like this, she had been terrified of heights, but she’d been more terrified of running into any of the wandering bands of men, the lawless ones who called no city-state their home.

She snorted. Guess I’m one of them, now.

She looked out across the wilderness, a wilderness that seemed even more forlorn peppered as it was by the remnants of civilization. The process was a long one, the reclaiming of the suburbs by the wild. Of course, the plague only affected those living, so for many, many years the buildings had stood simply empty, the lawns growing more and more unkempt, the trees falling down and destroying the buildings they once guarded.

At least, that’s what was said. Papa said his grandmother used to tell stories, passed down throughout the generations, of how before the plague came food was plentiful and water came out of a tube in your house. Then again, the same grandparents told stories of fairies and goblins, so she wasn’t taking such ideas at face value.

She glanced out over at the wilderness around her. She was at the edge of an old suburb – cement could just barely been seen amongst the weeds on the ground, remnants of old roads, and the foundation of a house stood next to her tree, half filled with dirt.

Further, still, through the thin layer of trees, she could see the skyscrapers, or what was left, their top floors fallen down among the streets where people lived.

Utopia, he called it. That was the name Papa O’Leary gave it, at least, and when he ran the place, it certainly was a utopia in comparison to the wilderness. The rationing was strict, the guards even stricter, and all lawbreakers were punished harshly, but it was better than the wilderness. At least, until O’Leary decided to up and die and leave his son Ian in charge.

She suspected the man was paranoid. Maybe just jealous. But the moments he got his hands on Utopia, he decided to turn it to hell for mages like her.

Magic, so she’d heard, was a relatively new thing. With all the old technology gone, people thought to turn back to older arts. And, to their surprise, it worked.

It took a certain talent and a great deal of study to master even one discipline, and the power it afforded one… it was no surprise Ian was paranoid. Mages were called monsters, ill omens, accused of all kinds of filth, and people had no choice but to follow along with it. Ian had the guard in his pocket. Eventually, people started to believe it. And she and Papa slowly fell back to the edge of Utopia, standing on a knife’s edge between the unknown wilderness and the hell of the city.

She knew they couldn’t hide forever. Papa was getting old, too – too old to survive living outside. So she’d left.

She shifted uncomfortably, closing her eyes as she balanced on the branches. She focused, taking a deep breath, letting her thoughts slip away, all her cares fade. She reached for the words, muttering a short incantation under her breath.

To an observer, should they care to look up, she would have appeared to simply… fade. Disappear into the foliage of the tree, blend in with the bark.

She felt the spell take effect and opened her eyes, dragging her canvas bag up to her lap and pulling out what food she had. She ate only a little, careful to store the rest in spite of her hunger.

She was safe here, she was sure. Should anyone so much as approach, not only was she unseen, but they’d likely trip any of the traps she’d set up around the place. She’d used this place as her camp for long enough that she figured she’d invest in some additional defenses.

Laura grimaced at his words. One more night in the tiny cage next to Raziel...

"I think someone overestimated how healthy he was," she said, drawing her knees in as her stomach rumbled.

She smirked. "Oh no I don't," she said. Not to mention she didn't even sleep most of the night. "If I snored in the wilds I'd be long dead."

She blinked. As she suspected, but... Damn. It was unnerving, that he got out without her noticing. She was losing her touch.

"And then took a nap after," she said, after a pause. She shrugged. "Whatever. Too late now anyway."

She looked at him cautiously and started eating. Silence was good. Silence was something she could deal with. His mood, however, put her on edge. If it weren't for this fucking small space...

As the sun went down and the intense cold returned, Laura wrapped her cloak tighter about herself, looking over at Raziel with some trepidation. She was not at all looking forward to getting close to him again tonight, pissy as he was...

Laura looked over at him and took a breath, shivering hard. "Mmm." She didn't move for a moment, then hesitantly scooted over to him, wrapping her cloak around herself protectively.

She nodded. No mountains near Utopia, and she'd never really strayed far from the place. For a long time, it was because she never really dared to try and make her way in the wilds in the winter, and forced herself to come back to the city to stay with her father - after that, it was more out of habit. And she always hoped - somehow, impossibly - her father would come out of the city and find her.

But that would never have happened. He was getting old, and while he was a fantastic mage and survivalist, age slowed him down.

She nodded again, letting him talk. If he expects this to be some cute and cuddly bonding moment then he's gonna be disappointed. Her life was none of his business. If he wanted to babble, he was more than welcome to.

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