6 - Let's Destroy This

“What are we going to do?” Karl’s voice cracked, high with panic. Magic sparked at his fingertips—blue, wild, storm-bound.

Aurora didn’t answer at first.

His energy surged. Heatless but sharp, like lightning just before the strike. He kept pacing, breath shallow, fists clenched—until the shift came. The familiar twitch of his shoulders. The twist of his mouth. The moment before he snapped.

He was going to be reckless enough to try barging in on his own.

“Enough.” She slammed her hand against a tree. The ground vibrated. Leaves shivered in their branches. “You want a plan?” she said, voice sharp. “I do too.”

“Forget a plan!” Karl roared. Ice cracked around his hands, sheathing them like claws. “We go in. We take them.”

“Wait.” She stepped forward, laid a hand on his shoulder, steady, not forceful.

He twitched but didn’t pull away. His eyes flicked to hers. His fist stayed raised. He turned and started pacing again.

“If she’s still alive…” His voice caught on the word. “We have to get her out.” His mother.

Aurora stayed quiet, watching the dead fire. ”We won’t get her out by charging in.”

“Then what—wait for them to kill her?”

She might already be dead. Her fingers twitched.

“There’s only two of us. There’s hundreds of them.” Her voice leveled out. “So we can’t just go in head-on.”

“So what? What do you want?”

She stood, brushing dirt from her coat. Her eyes still trained on one spot. “It means I want time to think.”

She turned toward the trees. Studied the bark, the pattern of the cracks. She let her mind settle into focus. “Milo wouldn’t send us on an impossible mission. Just a nearly impossible one.”

“So?”

“So there has to be something. A clue. Not out here.” She pointed towards the Fire Kingdom. “In there.”

Karl straightened. “I’ll go—”

“No.” Her hand rose before he could finish.

“You’re a boy. You’re a Child of Light. They’ll recognize and spot you in seconds.” She met his gaze. “I’m going to ask you to do something hard. I’m going to ask you to wait.” His mouth opened in protest. “As I go in,” she finished, cutting him off.

He swallowed. “And my mother?”

“If we do this right, we’ll find her.” She hesitated, wondering what he’d do if she was already dead. “You’ll have a window.”

“You’re gambling.”

“I’m choosing the only move we’ve got.”

His jaw locked. His eyes burned. She turned away before he could argue again. Her heart pounded, but she kept her voice calm.

“I just need to piece out the layout. The buildings. The checkpoints. Trick them—like I did with Selus.” Then softer, thinking about Milo and her shared life. “That’s how you dismantle a system. You dig one weak point, every day. And one day it caves.”

“We’re outnumbered and outpowered. They’ll see us coming.”

“They might.”

She glanced back at him, eyes cool despite the fire in her chest. “But like I said Milo wouldn’t have sent us if there wasn’t a chance. Believe it or not he’s not interested in our deaths.” She cocked her head. “There’s a clue in there somewhere. I know it.” Their eyes locked. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll find it.”

—-----------

A few hours later, Aurora’s wrists were snapped into rusted chains.

Hands—rough, calloused, too many—grabbed and shoved her toward the gates. They’d found her in the wilds, dragged her bleeding from the brush like a prize. Her clothes hung in tatters. Scratches bloomed down her arms. Aesthetic choices she’d engineered. Fear lit her eyes, all performance.

They laughed, loudly, triumphantly.

At first it was nothing—her mind was sharp, though her eyes were wide with 'fear.' She observed everything. The gates were much taller than she remembered – solid stone. She'd once digged a hole underneath. She looked at the fortified floor and made a mental note: no escape. Not that way. If she had been born today, the girl she used to be would’ve died here.

The huts had changed too. No longer patchy canvas with fire pits in the dirt. Now, domed stone buildings, reinforced doors instead of tent flaps. The windows were too small for anyone to crawl out, but open, no glass. Like a jail bar. She tucked that information away. The Fire Kingdom had a big upgrade from whenever she had lived here.

When had she lived here?

One of the guards shoved her again. She stumbled toward a cluster of thick pipes embedded into the ground, part of a strange, metal container. Huge.

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Two guards started talking about a variety of things, then one leaned against the metal, thumping it idly. "I still love looking at it,” one smirked. “A symbol our greatness. Each tank’s got, what, thirty thousand barrels?"

"Try fifty," the other snorted. Aurora didn’t speak. She didn’t even glance at them, but she listened and looked around again. They pushed her forward. Then it began. They shoved her into the center square. The ground was scorched black, cracked from heat. The smell hit first—sweat, smoke, something metallic. Something that never left. The noise came next. Loud. Thoughtless. Not cheering. Barking. Aurora staggered forward, her chains dragging. Then she saw. Women. She couldn’t speak the rest. Her blood froze, leaving her face white.

Her chains clanked with every step. Laughter echoed off the stone, bouncing louder than it should have. Her eyes darted—too quick. Too sharp. Every movement from the crowd sparked a warning in her chest. Hands. Boots. Heat. Suddenly, she was not okay.

Then a man grabbed her jaw. Rough fingers yanked her chin up. She didn’t breathe. He spat something she didn’t hear. Her ears had started ringing. Or maybe the world had dulled.

Her pulse pounded. Her skin crawled. She couldn’t move—no, she wouldn’t move—just stood there, lips parted like the breath had caught halfway up her throat She wasn’t here. She was back. The hallways. The hate. The boys who smiled like it was a game. The word obedience scrawled in blood.

Her knees buckled.

No. Not again. Please…Please!

She couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop the tremble in her wrists. The man’s grip slid down her neck—and that’s when she saw her, just for a brief five seconds: A girl. Young. Dark-haired. Crouched near the outer ring of the square, half-hidden behind a barrel. She moved fast, hands slicing through the dirt with practiced motions.

Burying something.

A knife, maybe. Just like back then…

Aurora’s breath caught. Her brain snapped like ice cracking.

She knew that movement. She had made it once, years ago. The girl’s eyes flicked up, and she nodded. Aurora’s chest heaved. The noise came rushing back—laughter, barking, the scrape of boots on scorched earth. She acted. Fast. No time to think. She slammed her heel down on the guard’s foot, twisted, and raked her nails across his nose and eyes.

He screamed.

Blood bloomed red against his skin. Shouts burst from behind her. But Aurora was already moving, chains dragging, boots slipping on cracked stone. She darted into an alley, grateful she had the discipline to do a quick, targeted scan to where the girl buried the blade: a grate. And the restraint to not use her magic until she was out of sight, behind the wall even if it was for a second.

The ground wrapped around her ankles as she zipped away.

An escape. An escape.

Where is her escape?

But her thoughts were shutting down.

The fortified walls—no way to dig under. No open doors. No tunnels. Too many boots. Too many shouts. Her lungs burned.

Please.

Her chains clattered like thunder behind her, still locked to her wrists. She ducked into a side alley, stone walls closing in, breath shallow.

No exits. No exits. No exits—

Then, a thought struck her. In the midst of her panic – a realization.

Milo wouldn’t send them on an impossible mission. Only an almost impossible one.

She rushed to the area they had once escaped, making sure to hug the shadows and zip quickly but carefully. And sure as it was, a small crack, one that would open enough for her to squeeze through if she forced it with all her strength. Milo’s opening.

Focusing her magic, she heaved the earth into the crack, grunting. Her face red, contorting with the effort. Then, the earth slammed back down. There. She squeezed, not caring if the stone scraped off the outer layer of skin.

She ran, never looking back and collapsed before she reached Karl.

Her breath came in shallow bursts as she tried to remind herself it was safe. She was safe. She winced, not from a wound, but from exhaustion. Her legs just buckled, like her body remembered something she hadn’t given permission to recall. She hit the dirt hard. Hands scraped. Breath gone. The sky spun above her—too bright, too blue, too wrong. The edges of her vision tunneled. The trees clawed inward. The breeze felt too soft, too warm.

She…she couldn’t breathe. You’re safe, she told herself. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.

But her body didn’t believe her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop her hands eyes from tracing something invisible in the air.

A rectangle.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Same dimensions. Same rhythm. She didn’t know why. She knew it was beyond strange. She only knew that she had to. She had to.

Each stroke brought a flicker of control. But it wasn’t enough. She began tracing with her fingers this time, the same shape in the dirt, but backwards.

Again. Again. Again.

Her breath returned, but shallow. Uneven. Useless.

Three things you can see. Tree bark, sky, dirt. Two you can touch. Stone. Fabric. One you can smell. She flinched. Blood. Yours.

Shit.

Her eyes flickering maniacally and closed. Her fingers retreated into fists. But part of her didn’t want to stop. Stopping meant feeling worse. She blinked. Swallowed. Shook her head.

You’ve done this before, she reminded herself. You don’t do this anymore. It’s been a long time. You… didn’t even do this with Selus. She stayed there a moment, just breathing.

Karl couldn’t see her like this. She wiped her face, rubbed the dirt off her hands until they stung. This was something she had struggled with. She didn’t understand it, didn’t know why she did something so strange so…unsociable. Then she stood. Straightened her spine. Forced stillness into her limbs. And walked like nothing had happened.

—----------

She stepped into the clearing, tall and unbothered, a smile gracing her lips. She lifted her chained hands. “Can you help me with this?”

Karl’s mouth parted. His eyes scanned her—bloodied and dirt-streaked.

“What…” He stared. “What happened to you?”

Her smile widened slightly. She looked down for just a moment, then back up. “I did it,” she said at last. “I found the clue. I know the layout. I have the ingredients.” She jiggled her chains. “Please?”

Karl summoned the water, hardened it into a blade. Told her to put her wrists against a rock and pull apart as much as she could – chains taught. They fell off with a satisfying clink as they dropped to the ground. Then, she walked past him like it meant nothing.

“Let me wash up. Think.”

“Do you have a plan?” Karl pressed, still stunned.

“Just… give me time.”

______________________

She emerged later, clean—but looking like she hadn’t slept in days. She rubbed her face with one hand before she presented herself to Karl.

“I have the plan,” she said. “I don’t even know if… No. I hate it.” She looked him dead in the eye. “And you will too.”