Over the years, Alex and Maxwell had found bunkers from the deep past, some from the Midnight Age, some maybe from the Twilight Age, scattered throughout the forest, and it was outside one of these that Alex collapsed next to the girl. Both were only upright by virtue of leaning their backs against the worn concrete, their legs splayed on the ground. It had taken nearly an hour, but between the two of them, they'd gathered enough wood to make a small fire in the bunker, keeping the maleficus warm. They'd used the carbon from rotting leaves and fallen pinecones to repair and expand the man's clothing, creating a blanket that they could pull over him, and between that and their healing, it was safe, finally, to assume that he would live.
He could finally pause to catch his breath.
She was doing the same, looking out at the forest, and just breathing, recovering.
A question had been dancing on the edge of Alex's mind this whole time.
“Can I ask you something?”
A beat passed before she answered.
“Sure.”
Alex took a deep breath.
“What's your name?”
Another beat passed.
“Elza.”
"Alex," he responded. It'd be rude to not return the introduction. He hoped she didn't already know who he was. That'd just be... embarrassing.
"Of course you are," she said.
Well, there was the embarrassment. But then, Alex started putting the pieces together in his head.
"Wait, the Elza? The one that's always in the top three of our class's rankings?"
She smiled. "I beat you sometimes."
Alex threw up his hands. "Sorry, I really should have recognized-"
"Don't worry about it," she said. "You're weird and anti-social, and I'm weird and anti-social. If any two people aren't going to recognize each other from our class, it's us."
She wasn't wrong, per se, but it still felt mildly insulting. And he wanted to add the technical truth that Francesca sometimes beat the both of them, but she already knew that, and Chess didn't need anyone to defend her.
She turned to him, and smiled wryly. “We did good, didn't we?”
He couldn't deny that. “Unorthodox. But good.”
Elza chuckled.
Between them, the pleasant scent of smoke and pine passed out of the ancient entrance to the bunker. Above them, moonlight filtered down through the trees, and the thin layer of snow over everything silenced the world, lending an air of peace to it all. The cold air penetrated Alex's nose, in the same way as a good horseradish sauce, clearing his mind and body. His long winter jacket, at this point covered in snow, still insulated his body from the cold, draped over his knees. Across from him, Elza pulled her knees in, huddling under the long skirt and heavy cape of the girls' uniform. In moments like this, Alex wished he had a cape like that. He'd pulled his arms back through the sleeves of his jacket, which was pretty much the same, but the woolen cape looked, well, cozy. Just past the bottom of it, Elza's boots poked out, dirty and scuffed. Both of them could have used headwear, but Alex had been in a hurry. He had no excuse for Elza, but from what little he knew of the girl, she wouldn't appreciate him making one for her. Her bountiful hair must have insulated her, at least a little.
The slow breeze pushed dustings of snowflakes off the branches of the trees, and the world felt at peace. If you squinted, and cocked your head just the right way, you could pretend to see the lights of Arcadia's libraries and streets far away, reason and order and warmth waiting for you if you wanted to return. For that matter… why would anyone want to leave?
“Elza…”
The girl frowned. “Yeah?”
“How did this happen?”
Elza scoffed. “That's none of your business.”
Alex held his blood-stained hands up in the moonlight. He hadn't had the time or energy to clean them yet. “I think it is,” he said, staring at them.
She followed his gaze. “Fair.”
And so, she began her story...