This chapter hated me sjdksjdsk

Adalyn’s father isn’t going to be revealed yet, but I’m dropping some hints in the chapter so I’ll see if anyone catches them hehehe

And we get flashbacks about Adalyn’s past! I'm actually really proud of how they turned out lol

The house is nice.

That’s basically the thought that runs through my head as Picket shoots me suspicious glances. I should be thinking of other, more pressing things, but with the way my mind works, I’m distracted at how well-kept the house is.

I stand a little awkwardly at the doorway as Helmer and Weeze’s mother talk, not wanting to intrude on their family reunion.

“Master,” Picket says. “Someone wants to see you.”

Helmer turns around and spots me leaning on the door frame. A brief flash of surprise crosses his face.

“Your father said you were dead,” he said.

I straighten, the words referencing my father making some form of hope take form in my chest. “My father? He’s alive?”

The words nearly stick in my throat. I’ve always told myself he was gone since the fire, since that day, but if Helmer’s seen him–My thoughts start running a mile a minute.

“Barely,” Helmer says in his gravelly voice. Picket’s eyes dart towards me, and then back to Helmer.

“Oh,” I say in a small voice. “What happened?”

Helmer stares at me, as if weighing the odds.

“A mission gone wrong,” he says finally.

A lump rises in my throat. “That’s–I’m glad he’s alive,” I stumble through my words, thoughts shooting everywhere in opposite directions. “That’s not the only reason why I’m here. Is there going to be a planned attack on First Warren within the next forty-eight hours?”

Helmer and Picket share a glance, a thousand words spoken.

“Yes,” Picket says, before Helmer can say anything.

There’s a short silence as I begin to rein in my thoughts and remember the plan Faye, Liam and I made.

“Thank you for informing me,” I finally say when the lump in my throat allows me to speak.

Some form of emotion twists in my stomach, panicky and joyous at the same time. My father’s alive, he’s alive.

I haven’t seen him since the day everything went up in flames. How much had he changed?

* * *

Fire.

They had set fire to our house–my dad was a causer. He was dangerous, that’s what they said before they set fire to the house.

In the name of Morbin.

In the name of peace.

My mother dragged me away, in the chaos and the panic.

There had been a scream. I never knew whose it was. I always thought it had been my father’s dying shout, telling us to run.

“Where’s dad?” I asked my mom, tears choking up my words. She glances at me, soot covering a good part of her face.

“He’s gone,” she said, choking on her words herself. “I’m sorry, Adalyn.”

My world crumbled in seconds.

“What?” I tried to comprehend what she just said. “He’s gone…like dead? Like–”

“Yes,” she whispered softly. “There was no way he could fight off that many enemies, even with help.”

“And–”

“They’re both dead.”

My older brother. My father.

There was a long silence as my mother struggled to not cry and I processed the information.

I stared at the rising smoke in the sky, eyes wide.

It was the day I swore revenge on Morbin and all under his regime.

* * *

My mother didn’t make it long. Medical services were denied to all refugees from victims of the Black Band, since it would put targets on anyone associated with the refugee.

She died three weeks after the fire.

It seemed people took more pity on an injured orphan than a mother and her child, seeing as more people made an effort to get me some form of food.

That is, until I ran into one of Daggler’s lieutenants who found some form of sick pleasure stabbing young does in the arm.

I woke up in a hospital, an anxious doe waiting for me.

“Hello,” she said once she noticed I was awake.

I scrambled backwards, grabbed the nearest available thing that could be used as a weapon (a flat, dull knife people used for cutting bandages), and held it in front of me so she couldn’t try and attack me.

“Hey, relax,” she said, holding up her hands in a calming gesture.

“Stay back!” I shouted, waving the dull knife around.

“You’re ok,” she said calmly–I backed up. “We found you on the streets, bleeding. You’re all okay now.”

I glanced at my arm, bandaged and clean.

In a split second, I was running out the hospital, trying to find a way out of there. I had endangered them enough.

I never returned to that hospital.

* * *

The woods were like a maze, and I never came across anyone in my wanderings.

Until one day.

I had been walking, a week after the incident in the hospital. I had stolen some medical supplies and food on my way out and set up a shelter. I planned to leave First Warren as soon as my wound healed and find causers.

And then I ran into two kids.

The two of them were clearly exhausted. One of them had half of his head covered in bandages, hiding a massive head wound. I wondered briefly how he got it. The older one had scars covering his hands, small ones, like he grabbed shards of glass a lot. Some of the scars looked fairly new, whereas others looked to be years old.

They were staring at me.

“What do you want?” I asked warily, already searching for an escape route.

“You’re hurt,” the bandaged one said flatly. “Do you need help?”

The one with the scarred hands and green eyes elbows the bandaged one in the ribs. “That’s the worst idea you’ve ever come up with, and that’s beating…” He trailed off and whispered something in the other’s ear. The bandaged one winced and said something under his breath.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, glaring at them.

The two bucks glance at each other, then back at me.

“D’you think we can smuggle her in?” said the younger one, who I dubbed Bandages. The older one–Green Eyes–shook his head.

“It won’t end well,” Green Eyes muttered, glancing at his hands. “Didn’t I just say we can’t do that?” he added, glaring at his friend.

“I don’t need your help,” I said flatly.

“Says the kid who has a wound,” Green Eyes said, pointing to my arm.

“Your friend’’s head is covered in bandages,” I responded, irritated. I was hungry and tired and trying not to break down.

“He’s my brother,” grumbled Green Eyes.

“Wait,” Bandages said, his one visible eye widening. “We can go to the hideout Dad showed us when we were younger! You can stay there until you feel better!”

I hesitated.

‘There’s no ulterior motive?” I pressed. “You don’t want anything in return?”

Green Eyes and Bandages once again glanced at each other, before Green Eyes shrugged. “We’re not stupid. You need help and we’re in a position to help you.”

“Where’d you get a wound like that anyway?” Bandages asked, a few minutes later as the two of them led me to their ‘secret’ hideout.

Green Eyes grumbled under his breath about invasive questions.

“Fire,” I said shortly.

“You’d get a burn from a fire, not a wound like that,” Bandages corrected, but didn't push the subject further.

“The hideout is a little hard to get into,” Green Eyes admitted. “It’s in the original Warren, but the tunnels leading to the other parts collapsed and were closed off.”

“Huh,” I said critically. “How’d your Dad know about this?”

“He explored a lot,” Bandages jumped in before Green Eyes could say anything. He smiled bittersweetly. “He’s…uh…gone now.”

“Mine too,” I muttered, not knowing if that counted as sympathy or not.

One could say Green Eyes and Bandages were the first friends I had after the fire.

Basically Adalyn is not a happy camper 😔

Green Eyes and Bandages. I love them so much 👌. They are canon characters but Adalyn doesn’t know their real names so she just nicknamed them. Which means more SuSpEnSe heh

Also I’ve been rereading Ember Rising for the sake of this fic and is Daggler & his band named the ‘Black Band’ or is it ‘Daggler’s Band’? It’s confusing me xD

Next chapter is from Faye’s POV bc we need to see what she and Liam are up to xD