The tournament

1300: Him

"So do you have any plan?"

"We walk there and you do your thing, and I will grab her," I halt and jump, swinging my limps to at least half technical Cuthbert is with his sword.

"Daphne?" He struggles to stifle his laugh.

Am I embarrassing myself? I think so.

I press my lips into a hard line and blink before I mumble out: “Yes?"

"A plan is needed for such a mission if we are walking ourselves to the death zone." He explains gently, his right eyebrow is lifted and a smile pulls on his lips.

"So what do you suggest?"

"For first, we need to make a plan, those guys that have Harper must be among the sorcerers, we only have a sword and two hands, they have magic and six hands." I am reminded of how weak our stamina is over those warlocks ahead of us.

"Now that's bad."

"We play it cool and low, it will keep us unseen for a while until we study their move, when they make a stop we grab her. Harper will take it right there, she should be able to veil us as soon as her hands are free. that's what we are going for,"

“That’s smart and neat.” I smile at him.

“Is it?” I caught a smile on his lips before he walks past me.

“No killing, nothing fun.” I played.

“I think what you call fun is something you will be closing your eyes for if it is to happen.”

I practically run to catch up with him. “Says who? I watch you in the forest.” I didn't know the words I had vomit until those pretty eyes came locking with mine, they were radiant with expectations and I swear I saw a hint of amusement.

I stopped walking just like Cuthbert and remain in place letting myself watch through him, it gives me a specific feeling I've never had. It makes my heart beat better than it did since we arrived here.

“You watched me?” He asked, his expression was easy to read. He's optimistic and pleased by what I just said.

I nod softly, knowing if I speak I could say something stupid.

His eyes lashes sweep over his cheeks softly, and he folds his lower lip between his teeth.

“You were great,” I admit.

“Nothing is great with killing though.” He swallowed and turn away before adding distress to my sudden worry with another of his words. “Let keep moving.” He coldly appended like he wasn't the person I just shared a brief moment with some seconds ago.

Something strike at the back of my chest and a lump rose to my throat but there is nothing I can do, so I follow behind him with my eyes looking everywhere but him.

The silent shadowy forest is equally as the one we left behind, although now through the thick wilderness trickles a vivid glint of combined colors from the sun that emit light along the pathways and we are aware of where we step on and able to examine the safety of our direction.

We walked through the woods for over an hour and a quarter, gradually becoming dehydrated and none among us has any food left.

"Do you think this tournament is the solution to everything? Does sending kids out here to assassinate each other keep the bucker safe?" I asked when my head won't stop messing with the fact that we might all die out here playing a game I don't understand the root of it.

"No, I think we need to do better," Cuthbert answers plainly.

Sometimes it seems like he's also angry with the court members even though he must come from a satisfactory side of the bunker.

"I always wonder how life cycles go on in the bunker, knowing most kids in Archiefield are sort of orphans after their parent leaves for the annual game. I know how it feels because growing up I constantly had nightmares having to be on my own, losing my father, and being all alone. I always wonder if the nightmares will go away and wish I am strong enough to wipe out the visions away but as I grow up I became less afraid until no more."

Now I don't even fear anything the bunker has to offer since after I learn to live with the agony of losing my father on a particular date that has permanently made a stain in my memory.

Cuthbert stops again and turns to me when he begins: “That makes you strong, many kids down there are weak."

"Most of the kids down there have an absence of love, care... But known only for starvation. No, they can't be strong." I chastised, shaking my head at him.

"But you are strong."

I scoff and guaranteed: “I am not."

"You are here because you are stubborn to listen to anything that doesn't make a plan of rescuing someone you just meet hours ago, yes you're strong."

My eyes meet him and I suddenly have nothing to say.

"I'm just..."

"Take credit for your virtue, Daphne."

"I don't know if it's a virtue or perhaps I'm here because I don't want to be alone," I confess.

He dips his head and softly tells: “You're not alone."

Instinctively I roll my eyes at him and I oppose.

"Easy for you to say, you never have to feel alone, you have a father, someone there for you. You don't know the feeling of yearning for the warmth of anyone if they would care for you a little bit of what you never had."

His fingers grab my forearm maintaining my position, directly facing him, his head shook rapidly denying my words.

“I grow up having everything I wanted unless when it comes to attention. I lack that, sometimes I feel like my voice is held in my throat.” He painfully exhales a laugh. “My father will never listen, he comes around only when I'm asleep and leaves before I wake up. I can't tell you a time where I and him had a good talk, sometimes he seems to protect me but now I don't even know anymore, I don't know how to trust him, honestly? I barely know him." He swallowed and blink before adding. “So Daphne not everyone with a parent is pleased with this world. We all are a mess. I may have a father but you and I are of no difference."

Agape I watch him, I observe him with no words coming from my mouth. I don't know what to speculate, but I know my whole body is having a connection to the person standing an inch away from me.

If we had no protective layers covering ourselves, I am certain this is the moment where I couldn't resist him. I would've felt his skin against my fingers, his breath against my face, his scent through my senses, his closest to myself. Maybe I would have felt his lips against mine too.

But all are restricted. Our interactions are limited. Because if we are to have that? We wouldn't last a good minute alive in this polluted world.

Cuthbert's soft eyes shift behind me and he quietly mouthed: “Don’t move."

The sudden alarm caught my breath in my lungs and my heart began beating.

"Okay." I nod once, staring at the tensed Cuthbert before me. And I know forthwith I am not strong enough to look back so I let him direct me down until we are lurking behind an old giant tree and Cuthbert informs: “We move in five minutes.”