Chapter 8 - Shadows and Claws

  The road stretched endlessly onwards.

  Its surface—fractured—scarred—worn—just like us.

  Magic invaded—everything raided.

  Buildings turned to dust— just like us.

  Reece and I wandered and wandered. The remnants of a world long gone whispered through the rusted skeletons of cars and the hollowed-out shells of buses strewn haphazardly along the highways.

  We negotiated around all of it with practiced ease, but the burden was draining us.

  We barely talked now.

  Was it that hard, or just familiarity?

  I studied my brother's profile - no longer the little boy I'd once protected, but nearly a teenager now. His face had lost its roundness, his movements more deliberate, more self-assured. Sometimes I caught glimpses of Dad in the way he stood, or Mom in the furrow of his brow when he concentrated.

  I cast him a glance, his shaggy long hair tied back like mine was. His clothes were worn but fit. You could find most new items if you looked. We changed our clothes as often as he grew, and that was often.

  It felt like we'd spent a lifetime on this road, not just three years. I had just turned twenty, and Reece was almost thirteen now. With his growing frame, he struggled to keep up the pace, but he never complained.

  We watched every shadow and corner in case something lurked. Mostly, we listened. Every sound here echoed our own thoughts. Every step we took was a testament to our resilience, a battle against the biting wind and swirling ash that threatened to erase memories of the world that once was.

  "I think we should turn east," Reece murmured, his voice breaking the monotonous silence. His once vibrant eyes now carried the weight of our journey, though a tiny flicker of hope remained. Unspoken and unvoiced, we were heading home.

  "I'll check," I said, carefully unfolding our battered map, with its edges frayed and colors faded. We had etched our winding path across it in a series of scribbles and annotations.

  **The map had become more than just navigation - it was our history, our story written in faded ink and pencil marks. Each annotation represented a memory: where we'd found shelter, where we'd encountered danger, where we'd discovered unexpected beauty in this devastated world.**

  Despite our travels, the world seemed vast, silent, and empty. But signs of life—or at least of past travelers—had emerged once again. The occasional arrow scratched into a rock, cryptic messages written in haste, or the remains of makeshift campsites hinted we weren't entirely alone here. This was both heartening and scary. I wanted to find people, people we could trust. I wanted, and I didn't. The few signs we'd seen when we first left camp we'd run from, then found the traps, people traps. We didn't trust anyone, young as we were; even though I loved him, the time we spent with each other had gotten on our nerves. We craved other people now, more and more. I felt I was losing him, his needs far more than mine. I could have stayed like this forever, but he wanted more.

  "Ahead of us," Reece whispered, pulling me from my reverie, his hand outstretched, pointing to our home city.

  Before us, the skeletal remains of the city pierced the horizon. Its once gleaming skyscrapers were now cloaked in ivy and moss, their glass windows shattered, revealing hollow interiors. The metropolis had transformed into a ghost town, its stories hidden in the silence of its desolation.

  It just looked just like a load of wrecked buildings to me. I shrugged at him. "Are you seeing something I'm not?"

  "Looks like a bird," he said. "Big black thing, you don't see it?"

  I tried to look, but I couldn't see anything. I ducked when it flew up into the air, spooked by the noise; there were hundreds of other tiny wings with it. "What the hell!"

  A maelstrom of wings, noise, and—fuck—red looming eyes, followed by an ear-shattering screech.

  "Run!" I shouted and pushed Reece to the side.

  He quickly got up there and moved, and I was right behind him. He veered left and then right, throwing himself behind an old car or—well—something. It was that overgrown. I had a hard time seeing what it was.

  The noise died down almost as fast as it had flown into the air.

  Reece held his hand up as if he could stop me from trying to peer up over the wreckage.

  I suppressed a smile at his protective gesture. When had our roles started to blur? There were moments now when he tried to shield me, as I had always done for him. Part of me wanted to resist, to remind him I was still the caretaker - but another part recognized this was healthy, necessary. We needed to be equals if we were going to survive.

  I let him. He liked to think he was helping and to be honest, he had sharp eyes and was softer on his feet than I was. I mean, feet, we'd lost our boots years ago, then picked up some trainers. Cutting the toes out, we got more wear than, in the end, finally ditching them as well. We hoped to find a shop or two the closer to the city we got, and we did, but then nothing felt right. We'd gotten so used to walking without. Most grounds didn't hurt; we could run on anything.

  "I think we're okay," he said and sat back down, his breath misting in the cool air.

  When our hearts had calmed, I moved out with him, and we headed in again, closer to the city. "Think there's many people in there?" he asked.

  "We came through when we first left our camp," I said. "There was no one then, but that doesn't mean people haven't returned like we have. There's got to be some other people around now. Others left that kept on surviving, thriving."

  He could only nod.

  "Was it really that bad?"

  The memories rushed back - the screams, the monsters, Dad's blood pooling around him, Mom's infected leg, the life draining from her eyes. The system taking over everything. "Yes," I said quietly. "It was worse than I've ever told you."

  I didn't need to think about it for long and nodded. When Reece wasn't overly watching, I checked the map. I recalled the area and my old school; we had marked it on the map. 'Home'

  He caught me. "You want to go home?"

  It was his tone, soft, almost mournful. I shrugged. I didn't know what I wanted, but a safe place for my brother and myself to live, to survive some more, hopefully with other people.

  "You want to go home now?" he prodded.

  The repeated question took me by surprise. I looked west and just nodded.

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  "Do you think you can get us there?"

  "The map will get us there. It's what's there…"

  Again, he asked. "Was it really that bad?"

  He had been too young, when we left the valley and he'd asked over the years I brushed it off, but the memories flooded me, the sounds, "Yes, just, just horrific."

  Reece took my hand in his and squeezed. How could he become so grown up? "I think we have to go, sis. Closure."

  "I never really wanted too before, not really."

  "But you have me now, too, and we're bigger. We can do this together."

  "You don't really remember anything about it. You were a baby. It was just sounds, running, just so scary. Then all the…" My voice trailed off.

  He knew what I was going to say, so I didn't say it. I said it in my head.

  The blood.

  He could only nod at me and look away. "Doesn't mean I don't want it to be what you need."

  I tugged him into my side. "I need it to be something. I'm just really not sure what."

  With care, I put the map away. Its worn edges were so bad now. The thought of it disintegrating one day scared me, and we would be left without it.

  "Come on then, let's go."

  Carefully, we tread on broken pavements, avoiding all trip hazards and roots protruding upwards. Our senses were sharpened to all dangers that lurked in the shadows, but it didn't mean something new couldn't jump out.

  The remains of the city loomed large, a labyrinth of derelict structures and forsaken memories. The very air felt heavy with a silence that was occasionally broken by the distant cries of nature reclaiming its realm.

  Above, an eerie spectacle unfolded. Blackbirds danced, swirling and merging like liquid darkness. The shifting mass appeared like a malevolent cloud, their collective movements resembling the ethereal drift of some spectral haze.

  "Storm's coming," Reece murmured, his eyes fixed on the ominous display.

  I glanced at him, trying to decipher his meaning. "You sense it?"

  His arm came up, revealing a canvas of gooseflesh and starkly contrasting fair hair, standing upright against his sun-burnished skin. The dimming light cast an almost crimson hue upon him, making the sight even more surreal.

  Before I could make sense of it, a spark, like static electricity, jumped across his arm. The brief, brilliant flash startled both of us.

  "Was that... lightning?" I gasped.

  Shaking his head, he rubbed his arm, trying to settle the rioting hairs. "Not sure. Just felt... weird."

  Concern welled up. "Reece, what's happening?"

  "I just got a system notification," he said and read it off for me.

  "SYSTEM RECOGNISING

  Reece Bellova

  Male - 12

  Puberty - Attained

  Lightning Mage - Spark achieved.

  To progress and earn levels, you must learn to control the lightning in and around you.

  This is a powerful skill, but not for the faint of heart. Those in the system already established will try and manipulate you like you will learn to manipulate everything around you."

  He exhaled. A sound laden with a burden. "Things are changing inside me, but also…"

  A mixture of emotions flooded through me - pride that he was developing his abilities, fear for what this meant, and a twinge of something else. Jealousy? After all these years, the system still hadn't recognized me, while Reece was already manifesting abilities. I pushed the selfish thought away immediately. This wasn't about me.

  I'd known this was coming for both of us. Mom had mentioned it numerous times. I thought of her journal and sat in my backpack this whole time. I'd only ever looked at it on the anniversary of her death. I couldn't bring myself to read all of it. Maybe now I didn't have a choice. Reece was almost that age…. Already changing, and I had to put my fears aside for us.

  I quirked an eyebrow at him, trying to make a joke out of it. "Like puberty-changes?"

  He grimaced, color flooding his face. "Yeah, and... Well thoughts about girls."

  The blunt confession caught me off guard, my cheeks flaming more than his. "Reece, I'm so sorry. This isn't an ideal world for... those feelings."

  God, how do I handle this? Mom would have known what to say. Dad would have had some perfectly balanced mix of humor and wisdom. Instead, he had me - just as lost, just as confused about how to navigate this world as he was.

  He met my gaze, his eyes earnest. "I love you, sis. It's just... confusing."

  I nudged him affectionately. "I love you too. And trust me, the world before didn't make this any easier. Nor would it have been any less confusing."

  His expression turned thoughtful. "Mom, ever talk to you about guys? About... this?"

  I nodded, searching for words. I should confess now, right now, but I can't…. I just…. "Yeah, but mostly about becoming a woman and the way we cycle through hormones and then responsibilities that come with it."

  "You're not already a woman?" He looked genuinely puzzled, and I wanted to laugh, but I stemmed it for all but a moment.

  I did laugh softly, shaking my head. "It's more complicated than that. But according to some, no, I don't bleed yet. Mom said it was something to do with my body weight. I'm not in a condition to support it, or a baby."

  The irony wasn't lost on me. Twenty years old, and my body still hadn't made the transition that Reece's was already going through at twelve. All those years of near-starvation had taken their toll. Part of becoming a woman had been stolen from me, along with so much else.

  When his silence stretched a bit too long, I added, "Think you can spark your lightning again."

  He blew out a breath. "I don't know. But it is something we need, right?"

  "Yes," I admitted. "As much as we've fought each other, that's not how we're going to survive out here. Not long term."

  "Is that why we've been avoiding the settlements?"

  "Ahh," I sighed and pushed us further up the road. "I didn't think you'd noticed."

  "You are smart, Cer. I'm just as smart."

  "The system doesn't recognize us, do you think anyone else out here would?"

  Reece was shaking his head. He stopped walking, with nothing but pure determination on his face he held his palm out.

  Lightning sparked around his torse, but didn't spread down his arm, nor did he manage to fire it.

  He was however panting and shaking. "Damn," he said. "That takes some thought."

  "According to Mom's journal, it really does."

  "Mom's journal?"

  Shit, I hadn't told him about that either.

  The look of betrayal that flashed across his face hit me like a physical blow. I'd kept too many secrets, trying to protect him. But he wasn't a child anymore, and my protection was starting to feel like deception.

  "It's in the bottom of my bag," I admitted. "Lets find shelter in the school up ahead. It'll be safer, I think. Then I'll let you see it."

  "Why haven't you?" But Reece was pissed. "I thought we were in this together?"

  "Reece," I tried, but he moved to walk, no stomp past me.

  I reached for him. "No," he shrugged me off and with his anger came more lightning sparks. "No."

  Head low, mind running a billion miles an hour, I trudged after him.

  The school up ahead stood atop a gently sloping hill, a monolithic silhouette of forgotten grandeur. Though I never walked its halls as a student, tales of it had echoed through the alleys where street kids whispered secrets. A place where perhaps children of different faiths once converged, a melding pot of diverse backgrounds, now felt haunted by the specter of memories.

  We gazed at the decaying building. The stone and brick facades of the school, stained with years and weathered by elements, loomed more like a fortress than a place of learning. Cracked windows glinted in the fading light while tendrils of ivy snaked their way up walls, adding to the eerie aura that enveloped the place. The once manicured lawns, now wild and overgrown, whispered of abandonment, swaying ominously as dusk settled. Vines crept up the sides, breaking windows, leaving doors ajar, and slowly reclaiming all that was once there as Mother Nature asserted her presence. Yet, even in its ruined state, it radiated a ghostly beauty in the twilight.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I thought I was—"

  "Protecting me?"

  "Yes," I admitted, the weight of years of half-truths sitting heavy on my conscience. "I've always tried to shield you, even when you didn't need it anymore. It's hard for me to stop seeing you as my little brother who needs protection. But you're not that boy anymore."

  I could only nod. "We can read through it together, if you want?"

  "You've already told me the important stuff, haven't you?"

  "Of course," I had, in one sense I'd never kept anything from him. It was the personal messages, the entries about losing Dad. Those… yes, I'd kept them from him to protect him. Because… they hurt. They hurt a lot.

  "What was school like?" he asked, having calmed down enough to look at me.

  "It was kind of fun," I replied, and we trudged up the hill towards the school. "But I never thought schools would look so haunting." I looked around. The whole world looked so haunting. Things I recalled were long gone, from the pristine pavements that were now so broken to freshly painted walls, turned nothing but grime.

  "It's because of all the memories trapped inside. It was a place of hope, learning... and now it's just a relic," he replied, his voice heavy.

  We drew in closer, and he surprised me. "About women... and this cycle. Is it painful?"

  I knew I didn't want to lie to him. "Mom said some women find it painful, and yet others don't. I'll only know when it happens," I explained, trying to choose my words carefully.

  He nodded, processing the information. "I want to know more about... everything. Bodies, the world before, the way things used to work."

  I felt a surge of responsibility, not as his protector now, but as his teacher, his connection to the world that was. For the first time, I fully realized that his entire concept of "normal" came from me - my memories, my explanations, my perspective. What an enormous responsibility that was.

  I squeezed his shoulder, understanding the thirst for knowledge in his eyes. "Once we settle for the night, we'll see if we can find any books in the school's library. Maybe there are some left that can answer your questions and mine."

  His eyes lit up, grateful for the sliver of hope. "And if we find nothing?"

  "Then we keep searching. Every city, every library until we find what you're looking for," I promised.

  "That sounds good," he said. The bond we shared was our beacon. Together, we would find answers and, perhaps, a glimmer of the life that once was.