Hi, guys! So as you know, "Three Days to Freedom" was a fic I wrote about a year and a half ago. It was kinda...bad. So, I trashed it. But I really wanted to write a fantasy story that dealt with the whole "choose your family" moral, so I decided to bring it back! Of course, I'm a better writer than I was a year and a half ago, so I'm excited to share this with you all! Just a quick warning, though. This fic deals with some sensitive topics which I will list below.

"Three Days to Freedom" displays:

-Mention of death and loss.
-Usage of weaponry.
-Violence, blood.
-Public humiliation/harassment/discrimination.
-Implied abuse, both physical and emotional.
-Mentions of depression, self loathing, and wishes of self punishment.

Yaaahh kind of a dark one y'all. Please be open minded and safe.

Long ago, humans and Psychics were at war.

Psychics were seen as monsters, not people, who went against the 'norm' of society. With their psionic powers and paranormal abilities, called 'PSI', they were considered highly dangerous to 'normal' people. A way to stop them had to be found. Humans had discovered a weakness that also happened to be the source of the powers in the first place; the mind. The less concentrated a Psychic was, the harder it was to control their PSI. Human scientists joined together to develop a way to intercept the mind of a Psychic, eventually discovering that electromagnetic radiation could be used to interfere with the mind of a Psychic, and even stun them if powerful enough. The technique was instantly accepted worldwide, and was put to instant use. Psychics were apprehended and imprisoned.

Humans were unstoppable.

That was, until one Psychic discovered teleportation. She found out that if given enough concentration and determination, if you were to focus on a specific spot, you could zap yourself into a new location in an instant. Using her new discovery, she practiced by teleporting from one side of the yard to the other, moving on to across entire fields, moving to halfway across the town. She could only do it at night, as that was when everyone was asleep, and she'd have a lower chance of being caught. One particular night, she managed to zap herself to the outskirts of the town. She knew that this was her chance to escape.

Using telepathic communication and whispers down the grapevine, Psychics from all over the world passed on this new information. The humans didn't even notice. Within three months of this discovery, human villages would wake up to find every Psychic gone. Little did they know, the population of free Psychics had begun to grow again. The Psychics decided that enough was enough; they had to take action.

Thus, war was declared.

The battle of humans against Psychics raged on for years. Blood was shed, lives were lost, families were broken, but on February 2nd, 1534, the leaders of the two teams signed a treaty. The treaty stated that as long as Psychics and humans were divided on separate boundaries, Psychics would no longer be persecuted. With that, Psychics built villages and settled, finally free from their enemy.

However, what the treaty didn't do was protect them from harm. If a Psychic was ever discovered by humans, that Psychic would suffer a grizzly fate.

Sure, the war had ended.

But Psychics and humans still remained rivals for centuries to come.

Tazmily Village (Also called 'Dragonstep Village' by neighboring towns) was a rustic but hearty town just near the vast plateaus that swept across Nowhere Islands. Though the town was small, it was filled to the brim with cheerful villagers who all knew each other. Every morning, they'd awaken and go about their day like clockwork. Through rain and snow, thick and thin, the village would thrive on like any other would.

On a steep hill which led to a cliff by the seemingly endless sea, there sat a small log cabin. It was a simple house with and basement, one floor, and one room, and it housed one family. A broken family, but still a family.

A young man sat near the small cluster of forest just nearby the home. Sitting with his knees hugged to his chest, he dragged a twig around in the dirt at the base of a tree. His pale blond hair ruffled in the wind, and his icy blue eyes focused on the ground below him. His name was Lucas.

Lucas wasn't a very talkative boy. While the other ten-year-olds would be out and about with each other, causing havoc and what not, Lucas could be found often wandering by himself. He never really left the safety of the hill. Sure, he had friends, but he never really talked to them that much. One would think he was lonely and sad, but Lucas enjoyed his own company. It gave him time to reflect on how he felt.

The only person Lucas often looked forward to seeing was his twin brother, Claus.

Claus was the sun to Lucas' moon, the dog to his cat, the yin to his yang. This meaning that although they were opposites, they belonged with each other. They were as close as two twins could be, despite their obvious differences. While Lucas was shy and reserved, Claus was outgoing and extroverted. While Lucas found it difficult to even talk to someone, Claus would start a conversation with a stranger if he wanted to. Still, they completed each other's lives.

At that moment, as Lucas drew in the dirt with the stick, Claus was up to no good, as usual. Their father, Flint, was out traveling to the next town over to trade, and Claus took this opportunity to snoop in places he'd been told not to snoop, AKA, the forbidden basement. Lucas had told him he wanted no part of it, and waited outside for his brother to finish. The sound of the front door opening and closing alerted him.

"Lucas! Luc, you oughta look at this!" Claus cried. Lucas heard the crunching of wheat getting closer and closer as his twin approached.

"I told you, I don't want anything to do with this! Dad's gonna be so mad when he- Oooh, what's that?" Lucas, upon turning around, saw Claus holding what looked like a large, leather book wrapped closed in dried grass string. Claus sat down and stared at the book in anticipation.

"Just wait 'till you see what's inside of it." He smirked, undoing the string and opening to the first page.

In neat, black ink, it read in bold letters:

"The Psychic's Guide to Psionic Anomaly"

Lucas instantly scooted back, backing up against the tree. He stared at the book with a nervous gaze.

"Claus, go put that back! You know that PSI is a terrible thing! We could get really, really hurt if we're caught!" He whispered with urgency. Tazmily's biggest law stated that the studying of PSI was deeply forbidden, and if this rule was broken, the culprit could suffer deadly consequences.

"But look who wrote it!" Claus pointed to smaller letters printed underneath the title. Lucas leaned forward and inspected it.

"Documented and studied by Hinawa Dolray." He read out loud. Lucas gasped, "Wait, mom? This belonged to mom?"

"Weird, right? What was she doing with something like this?" Claus wondered. "She would've been executed if she'd been caught with this. We could get executed."

"Which is why you need to go put it back where you found it!" Lucas insisted, backing up against the tree again.

"You mean you don't want to learn about how cool PSI is?" Claus asked smugly.

"How could you say that? Lighter says that it's a taboo in our world, Claus. There isn't anything 'cool' about it!" Lucas protested, remembering the words of Lighter, a friend of their father's.

"But think about it! Being able to create fire out of nowhere. Shooting ice from your hands. Talking to people in your mind." Claus continued, putting both hands on his head.

"Stop it, you're trying to scare me!" Lucas pouted, "I'm going inside. If you wanna read that, go ahead, but I want nothing to do with it!" He stood up and walked away, heading inside the house and closing all the windows. He sat on the bed that he and Claus shared, and crossed his arms. There was no way he was gonna let himself get involved with that horrible dark magic. He spent the hours wondering why his mother, who had died years earlier, would own something like this. He felt disgusted, knowing that this artifact had been in the basement this whole time. He wondered if his father knew about this. What if this was the reason they were never allowed to go down there?

Every once in a while, he'd look through the blinds of the front window and catch sight of Claus sitting cross legged, the open book sitting in his lap. He seemed to be incredibly interested in it, and it only made the pit in Lucas' stomach grow bigger.

As the hours went by, the sky grew darker. Lucas knew that the sheep on their farm must've been getting hungry, but he was too frightened to go outside to feed them. His overactive imagination formed an angry mob that would take both him and his brother and burn them in a fiery death. He walked to the nearest window and gently pulled back the blinds, peeking outside. The sun was nearly set, and Claus still wasn't coming inside. They weren't allowed to be out after sunset, so Lucas decided to muster up enough courage to creak open the front door and alert his brother to come inside.

"Claus!" He called, "Claus, you gotta come inside."

He got no answer. Perhaps his twin was mad at him for leaving, he thought. Then again, maybe he was just being stubborn, as always. Lucas flung open the door to go over there and get him, but he gasped upon making a discovery.

Claus was gone, and the book lay in his place.

Lucas looked around; Claus was nowhere to be seen. He called his name a few times, getting progressively louder. When he again got no answer, he decided he had to search in the village. He grabbed his jacket from inside and carefully made his way down the steep hill, towards the village with glittered with streetlamps. Continuing to call for his brother, he caught the attention of two other villagers. Friends of his, named Fuel and Nana. They jogged towards him.

"Lucas? What's wrong?" Asked Nana, twirling a lock of blond hair around her finger, "Why're you out here, it's almost dark!"

"I'm looking for Claus, I can't find him anywhere." Lucas explained, almost on the verge of tears.

"Oh no..." Nana murmured quietly. Fuel, who also seemed worried, spoke up.

"I'll go get my dad, he'll know what to do." He said, running into his nearby cabin, where he then emerged with his father, Lighter.

"Lucas, Fuel says that you can't find your brother." Lighter recalled, kneeling down so that he could look Lucas in the eye.

"Mmhmm. I stayed inside today because I wasn't feeling well, and when I came outside to tell Claus to come in, he was gone." Lucas explained, only slightly lying. He was shaking like a leaf, knowing that he was keeping an incredibly dangerous secret from Lighter. If he even let it slip that he and Claus had possession of the book, they both would most likely be threatened with torture. He knew how ruthless it could get.

"Crap...listen, I'll send a messenger bird to Flint, telling him to come back, okay?" Lighter assured him. Lucas only nodded.

An assortment of the strongest and fastest in the village was assembled to find Claus. After searching through every cottage and every shed in a period of two hours, it was clear that Claus was no longer within Tazmily. With that, the villagers realized that they had to expand. Different sections of people were organized to search the surrounding forest. As the tension and fear rose, the moon did as well, and the orange light of lit torches was too much for Lucas to handle. He was escorted by another villager back to his house, and begged to be left alone. The villager must have heard the desperation in his voice, for they obliged, thinking he was simply too overwhelmed to speak to people right now.

In reality, Lucas needed to get that book, and nobody could be around to see it. Once the light of the villager's torch had disappeared, Lucas rushed from the cabin and navigated his way to the same tree as earlier. The book was still there. Feeling as if he was touching a poisoned vessel, he hesitantly set his fingers upon the open book and picked it up, gently closing its cover and hugging it to his chest. Sooner rather than later, his father would quickly return, and would find Lucas with the book. As he carried the forbidden object back to the cabin, Lucas wondered if his father was even aware it existed at all. When his mother was still alive, she and Flint were unimaginably close. The thought of them keeping secrets from each other was heartbreaking, so there was no way Flint didn't know what this book was and what it was for.

Lucas, once inside, stopped in front of the basement trapdoor. He held his breath, and reached down with one hand to gingerly pull open the latch, and swing the plank up with an eerie creaking sound. A gust of cold air with the scent of old books and metal washed over him. With a shaky foot, he took a step into the darkness before him. Then another. Then another. After eight full steps, he found himself standing on the packed dirt floor of the basement, which was only lit by the warm light upstairs.

Ever since he was a young toddler, Lucas had been convinced the basement would be filled with terrifying creatures and dark entities that would leap at him instantly through the blackness, but to his surprise, all he saw were stacks of boxes, and not that many too begin with. The room was actually quite bare. He pushed away his hesitation and quickly searched around for any place the book could've been stored in before. Unfortunately, all the boxes looked the same to him, only marked with the frequent 'OLD CLOTHING' or 'FABRIC' in ink.

However, as Lucas passed one particular set of boxes, he stopped, and turned.

"It's that one."

The voice in his mind was definitely his own. The box below him didn't look special in any way, but the first thing he saw when he opened it was a familiar piece of clothing; a floral sundress that he knew very well. This was his mother's dress. He and Claus had made it for her birthday once. Lucas smiled, remembering the process. They'd gotten a white dress and made the pattern on it by dipping flowers in beet juice and pressing it into the fabric. His mother had told them that she would cherish it forever. This was a box full of special things, there was no doubt. The book belonged here. Lucas gently set the item on top of the dress and closed it. He didn't spend another second questioning the voice in his head and where it came from. He raced up the stairs and slammed the trapdoor before him.

Not even a minute later, someone stepped into the cabin; Flint. His face was filled with terror and worry, each movement shaky.

"Lucas!" Flint instantly rushed to his side and grabbed him by the shoulders, "Lucas, did you see where Claus went?" He asked, voice urgent.

"N-no...!" Lucas whimpered, frightened by how tight his father's grip was on his arms and the tone of his voice.

"Did he tell you where he was going?!"

"No! I-I went inside, and when I came back out, he was gone!"

Flint, realizing he was getting nowhere, let go of his son and made his way to the door again. "Stay inside!" He called over his shoulder, before leaving almost as quickly as he'd arrived. Lucas watched him go through the window, and saw a crowd of torchlights gathered at the base of the hill their house sat on. A mob was forming in the town below. Within seconds, the lights began to disappear into the forest. The town was soon bare, lit only by the streetlights. Lucas sighed, turned around, and began to walk to his bed. However, something stopped him.

It was the same voice in his head as before.

It wasn't really a voice; more like an urge. It sounded like wispy air, or the rustling of the trees. Although there were no actual words being said, Lucas could easily tell what the voice was telling him:

"The tree. Go to the tree."

Lucas placed his hands over his ears in an attempt to drown out the sound, but it was coming from inside his own head. He tried everything, from shaking his head to submerging himself under a blanket. The voice just wasn't leaving.

"Go to the tree."

"What tree?!" Lucas cried. While saying this, he turned to face the front window once more. The first thing he saw was the pine tree Claus had been reading the book under. He narrowed his eyes, and almost in a trance-like state, made his way towards the door. Forgetting his father's orders, Lucas opened the front door and stepped into the night. As he approached the tree, he began to notice something odd in the grass.

Upon kneeling down and gently placing his fingers over it, Lucas realized he was touching a coat of icy crystals. It was a layer of frost over the grass. This was of course strange, as snow was rare in Tazmily, not to mention that it was also the middle of summer. On second thought, why was this one patch of grass affected? Lucas continued to run his hand over the grass, before feeling something different. Not too far from the ice, he felt a crisp, delicate texture. Upon leaning down to see better, he realized the grass he was touching was singed. The tip of each blade was black. Somehow, this grass had caught on fire.

The phenomenon confused Lucas beyond imagination. He'd never seen anything like this; how could this even happen? How could one area be frozen over, but the other was obviously affected by intense heat?

He slowly glanced up, and stared into the dark insides of the forest in front of him. As wind intensified, blowing his hair and the branches of the trees, Lucas continued to keep a sincere gaze on the blackness. The voice inside of him wasn't saying anything in particular, but he could make out a concept. The voice wanted him to go in. He sensed a strange energy coming from the trees. Despite this; Lucas managed to fight against the voice. He ripped his eyes away from the forest and sprinted back into the house, sighing in relief once feeling the warmth of the interior.

Almost not feeling anything and not even bothering to change into his nightwear, Lucas crawled into his bed and buried his head under the pillow, trying to shut out endless thoughts. The endless paranoia of where Claus was and what he'd done at that tree continued to claw and bite at him. Even as he drifted into sleep, he dreamed of the forest and what was in there. He dreamed of the frosted and seared grass and how it came to be. But most of all, he dreamed about that book. That god forsaken book, and what it was doing in his house, in the possession of his mother.

And for every day after that, he lived knowing about it. Knowing that below the ground, that object rested.

Claus never came back.

The day Lucas turned sixteen was an important day indeed. Within Tazmily, when a boy turned sixteen, he was then considered a man. Lucas felt a newfound sense of pride in himself on this day.

It had been six years since the disappearance of Claus on that night. He was never recovered; the only sign of him was a single shoe found on a large stretch of prairie, and it was now safe to assume that the poor boy was long gone. Flint, now having lost both his wife and his son, was beginning to lose sense of what was real anymore. Often times, he would come home asking Lucas where Claus had gone that day, and Lucas would have to once again remind him of what happened. On some days, Flint would lose the shine in his eyes and nod, having remembered. But other times, he would lose control of himself and furiously travel into the forest to look for Claus again. There was the rare occurrence of Flint snapping and attempting to strike Lucas across the face out of anger, but Lucas never told anyone about that.

Lucas, however, grew used to it. Through those six years, he began to grow into a respectful, handsome young man. Now, he was still shy and reserved, but he had improved when it came to speaking to other people and the like. Now that he no longer had his brother, Lucas had to learn how to do things for himself. The villagers all understood this, and aided the boy in his development from child to teenager.

There were two people who helped prevent Lucas from becoming even more isolated after the incident; Fuel and Nana. The two of them continued to stick with him no matter what. And on this particular day, he couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather spend it with.

The three friends were at their favourite place in the whole village; a large pond that sat within the forest. The sky was a deep orange hue, as the sun was beginning to set. Lucas sat on a large boulder next to Nana, while Fuel scanned the ground, searching for flat stones to skip across the water. As Fuel looked, Lucas turned to Nana.

"The days are getting longer," Lucas mentioned, "Summer's coming."

"Just around the corner!" Nana replied, nodding excitedly. She looked down at the grass below sheepishly and squirmed a bit. Lucas did the same. He tried to search for anything to say to start a conversation, but Nana spoke before he could, "So, sixteen years old, huh? How does it feel?"

"I mean, I'm still the same old Lucas. Just with a deeper voice and authority over both of you." Lucas playfully said in his usual soft, quiet voice.

"Oh, shut up! Just because you're two months older doesn't mean you're some kind of boss or something." Fuel cried back, kicking a few stones away from him. "Let's be honest, Nana is the boss of all of us. She could kick both of our asses."

Both boys laughed while Nana grinned smugly, nodding her head.

"Not Lucas', though." Nana clarified. Fuel rolled his eyes.

"That's only because you think it looks nice." He teased. Nana's eyes instantly widened. She sprung up and began to swat hysterically at Fuel, who raised his arms to defend himself.

"Liar! Liar! Liar! I don't like him!" Nana cried, shoving Fuel.

"I never said anything about you liking him, Nana." Fuel smirked, resting his hands on his knees and raising an eyebrow at her. Nana froze, before clenching her jaw angrily and whipping around, her long blonde hair smacking Fuel in the face as she turned and sat back down on the rock. As Fuel cracked up in the background, Lucas put a hand on Nana's shoulder.

"Don't listen to him, Nana. I believe you." Lucas smiled. Nana smoothed out her dress and cast a look at Fuel.

"Thank you, Lucas. See, Fuel? Lucas gets it." She huffed.

"If you say you don't like me, you don't like me." Lucas said, before grinning mischievously, "You love me."

"Lucas!" Nana gasped, a look of utter betrayal upon her face. She pretended to look hurt, but eventually joined the other two in laughter, raising a hand over her face to cover the fact that she'd given in.

The sudden rustle of bushes caught their attention. A familiar head poked out from the brush.

"I figured I'd find you kiddos here." Said an older woman from the village; Caroline. She had taken the role of caring for Lucas, for Flint had neglected to. "Seems like I can always hear you from a mile away. Fuel, Nana, your parents asked me to fetch you. Lucas, you'd better come too." Caroline requested.

Lucas nodded, stretching his arms above his head with a groan of satisfaction. He hadn't realized how long he'd actually been sitting on that rock.

"Aye, aye, aye..." He muttered, "Caroline, have you seen my dad at all today?"

Caroline's eyes sadly darkened as she shook her head softly, "He's out in the forest again."

"Ah, okay. I'll sleep at my house tonight, if that's okay." Lucas suggested. Caroline nodded.

The rest of the walk back to the village was silent. The sun's rays drifted through the trees, casting small patches of light on the ground. Each time Lucas walked through one, the sunlight seemed to ignite something inside of him. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but something shifted in his mind each time the light touched his skin. He flinched, feeling the slight discomfort of a headache, but managed to distract himself as he heard the sounds of his village approaching. Once the trees parted and he entered the bustling town, dozens of heads turned to smile at him. In response to the multiple greetings, he smiled back and waved.

"Have a good evening, Caroline." Lucas said, facing his caretaker. Caroline beamed and nodded.

"You too, sweetie. Be safe walking home."

After saying a quick goodbye to his friends, Lucas set off on his journey home. As he walked along the pathway that he'd grown to memorize, he greeted each villager he passed, and thanked everyone who congratulated him on his coming of age. Once making it to the outskirts of the town, he came across the base of the hill his house sat upon. He then began the long trek upwards. Over the years, his legs had grown strong and tough, capable of travelling up this steep hill with ease. Lucas remembered the days when he'd have to hold the hand of his father or mother, as his small child legs were too weak to carry himself. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he reached the top, bending over and touching the ground to stretch the back of his legs, which ached.

Lucas turned and ran his gaze over the village below. From up here, it looked small. The darkening sky illuminated the streetlamps and houselights. Beyond it, he saw the large forest which seemed to never end, it's trees resembling waves rising and crashing in the ocean; dark silhouettes that loomed like spirits over Tazmily. He turned and crossed the front yard, which lead to the familiar sight of the cozy log cabin. He hadn't been to his own home in a while, most of his time was spent at Caroline's house. But seeing that this would probably be a night where his father would not return and Lucas wouldn't have to face him, he took the opportunity to spend some time in his childhood home.

Once inside, Lucas removed his shoes and walked to the furnace, where he lit a few pieces of wood ablaze. The fire lit up the small room and filled it with a nice warmth. He then went to the kitchen on the other side of the room to heat up some water on the stove. As that was happening, he opened a cabinet to reveal a glass jar filled with green and brown pieces; dried tea leaves he'd picked weeks ago, and placed here to dry. He filled a clay mug with the boiling water and stirred a single tablespoon of the dried leaves in, creating a brownish mixture. The aroma of mint and raspberry leaf calmed him, and made his eyelids droop ever so slightly. He mixed in a bit of honey he'd collected from the beehive outside of the house, and he was done.

For the next hour, Lucas sat on the wooden floor cross legged, facing the furnace, wrapped in a handmade blanket, alone with his tea and his thoughts. As he stared at the flames, that weird feeling of power came back. Except this time, the fire had power over him. They were speaking to him, as if they were...beings. Orange ghosts dancing in the furnace entrance. He swore he could hear their voices, but he didn't have the slightest idea of what they were saying. He stared on, hypnotized by the ever-twirling embers and smoke. He felt like the fire was a person, and the person shared a connection with Lucas. A human connection. For the first time in a while, Lucas felt true peace of mind. Despite growing into a stronger person over the years, the shadows of his past weren't gone. Except now, for that hour of gazing into the fire, it felt as if they were.

It was the shifting of the front doorknob that jolted Lucas from his moment of tranquility. He sat up straight, staring at the door with wide eyes.

"Dad..." He muttered.

Of course, it was his father who entered the house. It had been a solid week and a half since Lucas had last seen his parent, and he looked even worse than last time. The tired, broken reminder of what was once a happy, healthy man staggered into the room, eyes sunken and dark, and skin pale. He left muddy footprints on the floor as he walked. His eyes seemed to be glazed over, and his face looked like he was in a trance of some sort. The poor man walked right past Lucas, who faced away and pretended not to see him. It was quiet, and Lucas wasn't sure what Flint was doing. He didn't dare turn his head to find out.

Suddenly, Flint's voice broke the silence.

"Your mother must be out in the village again." He murmured, sounding as if he hadn't spoken in days, "That's Hinawa for you. Always doing her village business in the early day."

Lucas didn't say anything. Flint didn't seem to notice. He sounded like he didn't know how to use his voice when he talked; like it didn't belong to him.

"It's such a nice day." He repeated.

"It's nighttime, dad." Lucas replied, voice hushed. Flint paused.

"Ah, yes...It would seem so." He breathed in a shaky breath, "The sun is not out." Lucas heard him wander around the room aimlessly. He begged that his father wouldn't ask that question that he hated with all of his being. He had to create a distraction.

"How was your journey?" Lucas asked, forcing a sense of calmness into his voice.

"Where's your brother?" Flint brought up.

Every muscle in Lucas' body clenched. He stared down at the floor, and bit his tongue. It was inevitable. Lucas stood up and walked to the other side of the room, close to the door.

"He's dead." Lucas replied, "Don't you remember?"

Silence.

"Dead..." Flint muttered, "Ah...I remember now. Claus is dead."

Lucas mentally prepared himself.

"What happened?" Flint asked.

"He..." Lucas hesitated, and said the same lie he'd always said, "...drowned. Over there, in the ocean. Remember?"

"That can't be right. I specifically remember that we found his shoe in the forest."

Lucas' heart quickened. It was rare his father remembered that part. Flint took a step towards him. Lucas grit his teeth.

"You didn't protect him. You didn't stop him." Flint hissed. Lucas slowly turned around to face his father, who was a few feet away. His eyes held only anger and hatred for his son.

"N-no." Lucas admitted, knowing it was useless to object.

"And now my boy is dead because of you." Flint's voice rose ever so slightly. Lucas swallowed.

"...Yes."

He had a split second to react when a chair was suddenly thrown at him. Lucas quickly ducked, covering his head. The chair smashed against the wall behind him, a few chips of wood scattering. Lucas backed up against the wall, grabbing the chair and holding it out in front of himself for protection.

"You killed him! It's your fault! It's yo-" Flint's outburst was interrupted when he let out a groan of pain, collapsing onto his knees. Lucas set the chair down and stood up, slowly approaching him. This wasn't the first time Flint had nearly passed out from exhaustion. He watched his father writhe for a few seconds, before Flint looked up at him with the same gaze he'd entered the house with.

"Lucas..." Flint began, "Where's your brother?"

Lucas didn't answer. Instead, he bent down to help his broken father up off the floor. Flint glanced around the room, confused, as if he wasn't sure of where he was. He willingly laid down in his bed, where Lucas had led him, and almost immediately fell asleep. As he slept, he was quiet. Lucas watched his pathetic father for a while, to make sure he didn't get up and wander.

He began to turn around, but he was stopped by a noise.

"...Boys..." Flint murmured, "...Boys...Happy Sixteenth..."

For a quick moment, Flint sounded happy. Lucas felt his mouth just barely form into a smile. But it didn't last long. Because of him, his father was now a delusional and confused mess of a man. The guilt of causing all of this was overwhelming. Lucas couldn't believe himself, and how selfish he was, letting his brother run off like that.

Lucas disgusted himself.

It was only when Lucas had exited the house and walked to the cliff side; that was when he let himself cry. It started as a single tear, gently trailing down his cheek as he looked at the waves below, but it didn't take long for him to fall to his knees, sobbing. All of the emotions he'd been holding in that night simply burst out in the form of tears. He was slightly embarrassed, knowing that he was considered a young adult now, yet here he was, crying alone like he was ten years younger. Boys weren't supposed to do this, he'd been told time and time again. He was ashamed.

He stayed there for a while. It only took a few minutes for him to let it all out. He rubbed the last bit of wetness from his eyes and sniffed. He felt better now, and had the brief idea that perhaps, everything was fine. He stared at the horizon. The sun was gone now, shrouding the village in darkness. The only light came from the half moon above and the village lights below.

He heard a twig snap behind him.

Lucas quickly wiped his eye on his shoulder and stared ahead, pretending nothing had happened. Before she even spoke, Lucas could tell by the scent of peppermint that it was Nana. This was someone he knew he could cry around.

"Why're you here?" He asked, the sadness in his voice making him sound unintentionally bitter. He quickly turned around to face her, "Sorry, I didn't..."

He could see Nana smile in the darkness. She had already changed into her nightgown. She approached him and sat down beside him, letting her legs dangle off the cliff side.

"It's okay, I get it." She purred, placing her hands in her lap. She glanced at Lucas, who was staring into the ocean below. His eyes were red, and his hands were shaking. This was something she'd seen many times. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Did it happen again?"

Lucas slowly looked up at her, before bursting into tears again, nodding. Nana pulled him close, letting him bury his face into her neck. She brushed a hand through his hair, as she'd done many times before.

"S-sorry, Nana..." Lucas stammered, gripping the fabric of her nightclothes.

"Lucas," Nana pulled back, and took his face in her hands, looking him in the eye, "Don't start, you hear me?"

"But you have to deal with me being...freakin' pathetic all the time, I-I..."

"Don't start, okay? Lucas, I care about you. I'm your best friend, okay? You're always there for me when I need you, it's only fair that I..." Nana trailed off, regretting raising her voice. She grit her teeth, and hugged him again, harder this time, "C'mere."

It didn't take long for Lucas to calm down. He was completely humiliated. Nana didn't deserve this. It wasn't her job to help him through this. Lucas couldn't believe himself. His friend wasn't a therapist, for Christ's sake, but here he was, letting her be one. He was probably overwhelming her.

"Disgusting. Disgusting. disgusting." He repeated in his mind, over and over again. "I'm okay, now. Thanks, Nana." He sat up straight, and looked out at the ocean again. He watched the moon's reflection warp and twist in the water. Nana watched too, letting her gaze trail to the line where water met the sky. She sighed.

"...Someday, I'm gonna get out of here." She murmured, deciding to change the subject to get his mind off of things. Lucas turned to her, surprised.

"What? You mean leave Tazmily?" He asked.

"Well, yeah. You can't expect me to live my whole life here."

"But it's perfect here."

"Exactly." Nana insisted, "Everything runs like a machine here. The same day, on repeat. Doesn't that sound kinda boring?" She asked, crossing one leg over the other.

Lucas paused. He'd never thought about that; she was right. Tazmily was already where it needed to be. It didn't need upgrades, or changes. The village would work this way for decades after this.

"Come to think of it..." Lucas replied, "You're right."

"My old man told me about the other places in the world," Nana said, grinning. "He says that there are thousands of other villages. He even says that there are villages that are so big, the houses are stacked up on top of each other." She claimed, her eyes sparkling.

"What? Fake." Lucas said. "Your dad's crazier than mine."

"No way, he's been there! He brought me these little paper thingies with pictures on them. These villages are crazy. There's great big metal trees with lights on them, and hard black mud on the ground. And people can get into these big metal animals that take them all over the place! Kinda like our horses." Nana explained.

"Metal horses?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

"They're not really horses, but you can control them just like one. With a little wheel." Nana said, "But you know what's the coolest? There are these great big buildings made out of metal. And they're so big, they touch the sky!" She thrust her arms up to the sky, letting herself fall back onto the grass. Lucas snickered, crashing down beside her. He always enjoyed Nana's stories. The two stared up at the stars. Nana sighed, and let her arms fall, "I just wanna go there. To one of those big villages."

"Well, why don't you?" Lucas asked, rolling over to face her. Nana bit her lip, and faced the other direction. Lucas stared at her, confused. It took him a minute to catch on, and he smirked. "Nana, why did you come up here in the first place?"

"Well, it's your sixteenth! I figured I outta come talk to you." She insisted. She turned back to gaze at Lucas, who didn't move a muscle. Nana finally gave in a sighed, rolling over to face him completely. "Fine. Alright. See, the thing is..."

"Yeah?" Lucas pushed.

"I needed to talk to you about something." Nana said, fiddling with a dandelion she'd picked. As she tore off the petals from the flower, she continued, "I actually was planning on leaving. On running away and never looking back."

"Well then why don't you just do it?"

"Because there's something I don't wanna go without."

"What is it?"

"...You."

Lucas froze, not knowing what to say. He forced himself to talk, "Me?"

Nana nodded her head sheepishly. She shifted so that her head was laying on her arm, "Lucas, you know what? I was thinking. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend my life with."

Lucas was silent for a moment. His heart began to pound. He grinned a little bit, "...Yeah?"

"Yeah." Nana smiled, "I just wanna grab your hand, and we'll run off! Together! And we won't stop until we reach one of those big villages." She continued as Lucas listened, intently, "And then..." She breathed in, "...Then, I'll marry you."

"Married? You and me?" Lucas repeated, bewildered.

"Mmhmm." Nana hummed, "And...we'll find a house on the outskirts of the big village. It'll be cozy, but not small. It'll have one floor, though. I don't like stairs. It'll have a little flower bed in the front, and a little back porch..."

"A white fence?" Lucas suggested.

"Yes, and a white fence!" Nana exclaimed, unknowingly grabbing his hand. Neither of them noticed. "And...every morning, I'll wake up to the smoke alarm. I'll run to the kitchen!" Nana suddenly stood up, running over a few feet as if entering a scene, "Turns out, you were just trying to make breakfast again. And you burnt it. Again." She sneered. Lucas snickered, and stood up as well, standing a few feet away from her. He covered his face shamefully.

"I'll be the guiltiest person in the world..." He whispered, dramatically. Nana giggled, delighted that he was playing along, and trotted over to him. She playfully hugged him from behind.

"Buuuut, I'll eat it anyways." She said. She grabbed his hand, "Then, we'll realize that we're late for our jobs!"

"Oh no!" Lucas dramatically yelled.

"Aaaaaaand, we'll rush downtown!" Nana pulled him with her as she ran to a new spot. "And you'll say goodbye before going to work your shift at..." She thought for a moment. Lucas thought about what job he would want.

"...The flower shop." He decided, picking another dandelion from the ground and stroking it gingerly.

"Yes, exactly! You'd be such a wonderful florist." Nana excitedly said, "And I'll work my shift as..."

"A lawyer."

"What's a lawyer?"

"Someone who argues with other people to get their way." Lucas taunted. Nana gasped jokingly.

"It's perfect for me!" She laughed, "Madame Natasha Karalee, at your service." She murmured, crossing her arms in a serious manner.

"Pfft, Natasha? You haven't used your real name in years."

"You think their gonna take my nickname seriously? Who wants to argue with a girl named Nana?"

"Who wouldn't? I do it all the time." Lucas teased, sticking his tongue out at her. She did the same.

"And we'll work all day, before finally, our shift ends! And we meet at the bus stop." Nana said.

"What's a 'bus stop'?" Lucas asked.

"It's a place where you can get into a big metal box; kind of like a train, and it takes you to places you wanna go." Nana clarified, "And we'll both decide that we're too tired to cook tonight. So, we'll go and find a restaurant to eat at."

"Kinda like the Yado Inn?" Lucas asked, gesturing down the the village.

"Nonononono, a fancy place. Where they serve smooshi." Nana explained, sitting down and politely crossing her legs, pretending to drape a napkin over her lap. Lucas sat down across from her.

"What's 'smooshi'?"

"It's like raw fish and rice, and it costs a lot of money. And then, when we're done, we'll run to catch the bus!" Nana grabbed his hand again and ran back near the cliff. Lucas followed, laughing the whole way. Nana continued, "Thank goodness, we could catch it in time."

"Whew!" Lucas added.

"And then...!" Nana paused for a moment, and went silent. She looked down, and saw that she was holding both of Lucas' hands. Lucas saw this too. They locked eyes, and everything went silent. Lucas could feel his face growing warmer by the second. And from what he saw, so was Nana's. She swallowed, and took a shaky breath in, "A-and then, we'll go back to our little house that belongs just to the two of us." She took a step forward.

"And the next day..." Lucas continued.

"...We'll do it all again." Nana finished his sentence. Lucas snickered a little bit.

"But you said you didn't want to repeat the same day. It'd be boring." He reminded. Nana smiled.

"No, it wouldn't." She murmured.

"Why not?" Lucas asked, taking a step forward as well.

"Because you'll be there alone with me." Nana said, "And I can't think of anything more exciting than that."

The grip she had on Lucas' hands tightened. She was scared, but then again, so was he. He could feel his palms growing sweatier by the second. Unable to look away from her face, that beautiful, sweet little face, he kept eye contact. He wasn't sure if he was excited or terrified; probably a mix of both. Lucas didn't want to ruin this. He realized that he had to stop letting himself do the talking, and just let his heart lead him. His heart was telling him to slowly lean forward; so he did.

"I have no idea what I'm doing..." He thought. He'd never kissed anyone before. He didn't know if there was some kind of rule. However, when he saw Nana inching forward with the same, anxious expression, he knew that she had no idea what she was doing either. A shiver went down his spine when his forehead touched hers. He could just barely feel her eyelashes. Just before their lips could touch, he backed away, putting a hand over his face.

"Sorry." He muttered, laughing nervously.

"It's fine! It's okay." Nana insisted, also giggling. She leaned in, whispering, "I was about to do the same thing."

"Aye..." Lucas ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the grass below. He searched Nana's face for any sign of disappointment, but to his relief, there was none. "Still wanna spend your life with me, of all people?" He joked.

"Of course!" Nana insisted, "I love you, I...!" She stopped herself, almost shocked that she'd let that slip out. She continued, "I love you. I want to go away with you."

Lucas was just as shocked as she was. He felt his eyes sting; he couldn't remember the last time some said that they'd loved him. He gave her a tearful smile.

"Well, I'd run away with you."

"Really?!"

"In a heartbeat."

"Well then let's go!" Nana cried, gesturing to the forest and pulling him along.

"Whoooaaa, okay, lemme rephrase that. Less of a "heartbeat", more like...a day. Gimme a day to get my shit together, and then..." He hesitated.

"...Then, we'll be off" Nana completed. Lucas nodded.

"Tomorrow night when the village is quiet, meet me at the pond in the forest. We'll be on our way." He told her. She nodded. Nana hurried to turn around and jog back towards the village, but she stopped. She gripped her night gown and faced Lucas. With a new sense of courage, she ran to him and cupped his face, kissing his cheek. It was aimed poorly, and the side of her mouth caught his. She backed up, eyes wide and a hand covering her mouth. Lucas stared back at her, stunned.

"Does that count? Was that a kiss? Does it have to be full contact?" He thought as his heartbeat sped up.

"Eeek! I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to...!" Nana stammered. They both burst into laughter. Nana brushed her hair out of her face and turned away, embarrassed. "Goodnight, Lucas." She said, "I can't wait."

"Me neither." Lucas whispered back, "Now go! Get rest! We've got a big day tomorrow, yeah?" He waved his arms to signal her back to the village.

"Yeah, okay!" Nana replied, her voice filled with nothing but excitement. "B-bye!" And with that, she took off, carefully making her way down the hill. Lucas watched her go, admiring every step she took. Her blond hair trailed behind her, and he noticed something fly out of it. He jogged forwards a bit to pick it up and return it to her, but she was too far away, and he didn't want to wake anybody by calling her name. Lucas stooped down and inspected the ground.

It was her hair ribbon. The red satin ribbon that she'd worn for ages to keep her hair up. He smiled as he picked it up. He'd give it to her tomorrow. Right now, the only thing on his mind was getting to sleep. The sooner he went the sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come, and the sooner he'd be out of this place.

As he forced himself to close his eyes, he could once again feel a headache. It hurt more than last time, but he couldn't care less. He'd finally be able to escape this place, his guilt, and his delusional father. And the whole time, he'd be with Nana.

The pain in his head stayed, but he managed to fall asleep anyways.

Everything was going to be perfect.

"You want me to go get him?"

"Yes."

"...And his name?"

"Lucas."

It was unusually warm.

Lucas turned over, groaning in response to the uncomfortable warmth. He could feel beads of sweat on his face. The headache was back, and stronger than ever.

"Nnnh..." He clenched his jaw, and turned over again. This wasn't warm, this was hot. This was painfully hot. "...Dad..." Lucas choked. His voice was raspy. He felt like he was covered with a blanket, outside, on a summer day. Except he was completely blanket free, and out of the corner of his eye, the fireplace was out. He rolled onto his back, squirming around to somehow cease the growing heat. He could see out the window; the moon was still out. It was probably midnight, judging by the position of the stars and the shadows on the floor. Lucas pressed his hands against his face, but immediately yanked them away with a yelp of pain. It felt like he was touching a hot stove.

It was so uncomfortably hot, it was getting painful. Lucas whimpered a bit and took in short, shallow breaths. He had to get help.

"Dad...!" Lucas cried, his voice cracking. He got out of bed, half jumping out, half falling out. He fell to his knees and gripped at his stomach, which also began to hurt. He could feel his clothing stick to his now wet skin. He began to itch.

As Lucas pulled himself across the floor, he continued to cry for help.

"Dad! Dad, I'm...I feel...help!" He screamed the last part, finally finding the strength in his voice.

In the bed next to his, Flint's eyes shot open. He jolted upright, and turned to see his son curled up in a fetal position on the ground. Lucas was relieved. He made eye contact with his father.

"Clau-" Flint nearly yelled. He stopped halfway. Then, something incredible happened. The cloudiness in Flint's eyes slowly faded, and Lucas saw the glimmer they had all those years ago. Not the fake, delusional cloud. The real, genuine sparkle. He knew that in that moment, Flint was there. He was really there. Flint's face turned to one of horror. "...Lucas," He panicked.

Lucas's eyes widened. As he felt his father scoop him up and pull him tightly to his chest, he felt a sense of familiarity. For a split second, Lucas was happy.

That didn't last, because another surge of pain ripped through his body. Lucas cried out again. Flint opened the front door, not bothering to close it behind him, and began to sprint across the front yard.

"No, nonononono...not now, please, not now...Hinawa, help me...dear god..." Flint muttered under his breath.

"Dad, where're we...?" Lucas asked. His words were slow, slurred, and broken. But Flint managed to make out what he was saying.

"I just need to get you to an open area. I know it hurts, Lucas, just...stay with me. I need you to stay awake." Flint's voice was quiet, but alarmed. Lucas let out another cry of agony, and started forcing himself to breathe. He could see that the fabric on Flint's clothing was turning black from the unexplainable heat.

Once Flint reached the center of the village, he laid Lucas down on his side. This was useful, as Lucas began to cough violently. Lucas saw splotches of black liquid spattered against the ground. He didn't know what on Earth he was coughing up, but he didn't think he wanted to. As he continued to writhe on the ground, paralyzed in torture, an assortment of tired villagers began to stream from their houses.

Flint saw the growing crowd, and swore under his breath.

"No, no! Go back, just let him be! He's sick, go back to your homes!" He ordered hysterically, waving his arms. Out of the crowd stepped Lighter, who advanced on his old friend.

"Flint, what are you going on about now? What's happening to Lucas?!" Lighter demanded, grabbing Flint by the shoulders. Flint shoved him off.

"He's sick, okay?! Listen, Hinawa told me this would happen when he..." Flint stopped himself, "Water! I need water!"

Lighter, too scared to argue, simply ran off to the nearest well. Flint knelt down next to Lucas, rubbing his hand up and down his back. Lucas was coughing so violently, blood began to come out along with the black substance. Tears streamed down his face as he continued to suffer. He'd never felt pain like this in his life.

Soon after, Lighter returned with the water. Flint grabbed the bucket from him, and without hesitation, dumped the whole thing onto Lucas.

And in one second, it was all over.

The pain disappeared, his lungs cleared, and he could once again feel the cold breeze of the night. Lucas took in each breath as if it was his last. He'd never been so happy to feel the cold. The whole crowd was quiet, waiting to see what would happen now that the chaos was over. Lucas spread out onto his back, taking in a few more deep breaths, before launching into another coughing fit. This time, he coughed up something different. Something that made his throat feel scratchy. A loud gasp ran through the crowd. Above him, Lucas saw little black specks fly everywhere. Some of the specks were glowing red. He gasped quietly. This couldn't be...

"Cinders." Lighter suddenly muttered, "Your boy's coughin' up cinders, Flint. Like he's a goddamn firecracker. What the hell is goin' on, Flint?" He demanded, approaching Flint.

"Listen, the best thing y'all can do is go back home, 'aight?" Flint snapped.

"Your son in practically dyin' over there! Look at him, it's like he's-"

Lighter went quiet. Everybody did. As Lucas slowly sat up, he noticed that the crowd surrounding him had gone completely silent. This didn't bother him until he had sat up straight. He looked around, eyebrows knitted.

"Guys?" He murmured. It took him a realize that every face stared at him with a look of utter fear. Not even fear; horror. "What's up with you all? You're looking at me like I-" As he raised his arms to emphasize himself, he caught sight of his right hand. His heart practically dropped to the floor upon seeing a spectacle both wondrous and terrifying.

Enveloping his hand, clear as can be, was a bright orange flame.

Lucas watched the fire flicker off of his fingers, the spaces in between each finger glowing blue. He felt no pain, all he could feel was the slight warmth the flame gave off.

"Ah...!" He cried, shaking his hand. He shook it forcefully, but the fire did not go out. He dragged his hand against the ground, tried to smother it with his shirt, and stuck it in the nearby water pail to try and douse it. But no matter what he did, the flame continued to dance on his hand. Lucas began to breathe heavily, no longer able to keep his composure, "Someone...someone get it off!" He screamed, holding his hand as far away from himself as he could. The moment he said that, the fire mysteriously went out with a puff of smoke and a scatter of ashes. A gasp ran through the stunned crowd. Lucas looked at all of them, his breaths growing shakier. The looks on their faces were going from frightened to...angered.

"Everyone...? What's going on, why do you all look..." He sputtered, his eyes darting around. Amoung the crowd, one face caught his attention.

It was Nana. Her face, like the others, was full of hatred. That's what made Lucas break.

"Why are you all doing that?!" Lucas shrieked as he stood up. As he did so, a long trail of flames circled him, causing the crowd around him to let out panicked screams, and back away. Lucas glared down at the singed ground below him where the blaze had erupted. He raised his hands in the air to show he wasn't dangerous, "Guys, c-come on..." He stammered, "I'm not gonna hurt anyone...I just need your help so I can fix this...I don't know what's going on..." Lucas felt a tear leave his eye.

"I think we all know plenty."

It was Lighter, who spoke from behind him. Lucas whipped around to see Lighter, glaring at him with a piercing stare of malicious intent. Lucas took a step back.

"W-what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, 'kick." Lighter growled. Lucas' chest burned upon hearing the slang word being directed at him. A 'Kick' was an insult term used to refer to a...

"A Psychic?" Lucas breathed. He began to shake his head, "N-no...I'm not...I'm not a Psychic, I would never..."

"All this time, we've cared for you. Lived with you in our village. And this is what we get?" Lighter snarled, his voice growing darker.

"Lighter, please..."

"Dirty, lying 'kick!" Lighter was yelling at this point. The crowd around him shouted a yell of agreement. Lucas began to back away from Lighter, who advanced on him. The noise around him grew. Each time he heard the word, Lucas hated it more and more. This was a word other village children would use to tease each other, naive of the actual meaning behind it. Lucas had used this word himself many times before, but now, it was an ugly, ugly word.

"I am not a Psychic...I am not a Psychic...I am not a Psychic...I am not a Psychic!" Lucas finally cried. Without warning, spikes of clear ice jetted out of the ground as he waved his hand. The crowd collectively screamed and backed away once more.

"See that? He tried to kill us!" Lighter shouted. He approached Lucas, kicking away a few of the spikes of ice. Lucas watched as his hands clenched into fists.

"No! No, I wouldn't do that, you're my family-" Lucas was cut off by Lighter's hand suddenly connecting with the side of his face. The slap was so powerful, Lucas found himself falling to the ground. He pressed his own hand to his cheek, in an attempt to ease the stinging. He stared back up at his old friend, terrified. Lighter narrowed his eyes.

"Call us your family one more time." He threatened, voice low.

"...Lighter...?" Lucas breathed, his voice shaking from the tears.

"Get the wood!" Lighter ordered, and the crowd of villagers scattered. Lucas was grabbed by two other villagers. Realizing what was about to happen, Lucas began to kick around as hard as he could in order to wrangle out of their grasp. He continued to scream, pleading with them to let him go.

"I'm not a Psychic! Stop it! Please, stop it! I can get rid of it! I can-" Lucas was suddenly thrown to the ground. He had only a second to spit out the dirt, before he was harshly kicked in the chest. He choked, tasting blood in the back of his throat.

"That'll shut him up!" One villager cried.

"I've got the rope!" Another announced.

Too weak to defend himself anymore, Lucas went limp as he felt rope being tightened around his wrists and ankles. He was dragged to a long pole which was been shoved into the ground, where he was then tied to it. He watched as a pile of wood accumulated around his feet. His eyes drifted open and closed as he struggled to stay awake. From where he was, he could see two villagers at the back of everything, standing together.

Fuel and Nana.

They watched, completely still, as their best friend was being set up for the first execution Tazmily village had ever seen. Lucas found the strength to lift his head and make eye contact with Nana. As opposed to Fuel, who stared at Lucas with disgust, she had a face of sympathy. She didn't want this. Nana suddenly covered her face and ran in the opposite direction, unable to watch this go on any longer. Lucas realized this would be the last time he ever saw her.

"Nana..." He choked.

Lucas glanced up, and saw that nearly the entire village was surrounding him. His arms were positioned in an incredibly uncomfortable and painful way. His chest burned, and a stream of blood still trickled down his mouth. He saw Lighter approach him, and strike a match.

And just like that, Lucas relived his entire life. For a few seconds, he remembered the days he'd spend chasing Claus down the village streets, narrowly turning to avoid knocking into people. He remembered helping Tessie fold her towels. He remembered taste testing for Abbey's practice baking. He remembered teasing young Angie about having an obvious crush on Fuel. He remembered sneaking into Thomas' Bazaar with Richie and Nichol, shuffling various products around before the grownups noticed. He remembered Lisa telling him the story about how his parents met.

He remembered his parents.

He remembered Claus.

He remembered Tazmily.

There was no use in fighting anymore. He tried to take advantage of his newfound abilities, but couldn't seem to make any fire or ice. He felt himself start to slip out of consciousness. It was all over. This was his punishment, for being such a terrible son and brother. Once again, Lucas disgusted himself. There was nothing left to fight for. He almost opened his mouth to dare Lighter to flick the match. To challenge him as one last hateful spit. He let his eyes slowly close.

He remembered Nana.

Time seemed to freeze for Lucas. As everything around him moved in slow motion, he opened his eyes. He heard the voice. The voice that had instructed him so many years ago. The voice that wasn't saying any words, but still speaking to him. It urged him. It motivated him. Lucas focused on a spot on the ground, and concentrated. All he could hear was his own breathing. The raging crowd made no noise. He felt his fingers start to prickle a bit. As he stared intently at the ground, the voice started to yell. His fingers then began to feel cold. A thin layer of frost began to creep over his skin. As Lucas breathed out, he saw a cloud of visible air puff in front of him. He shivered.

For the first time, the voice spoke a word.

"Now!"

The world around Lucas went back into motion. He looked up, grit his teeth, and clenched his hands into fists.

"PK Freeze!" Lucas screamed at the top of his lungs. An icy chill ran through his body and out of his fingers. In one quick movement, ice began to build up around him. It spread over the pile of wood and the base of the pole. It curled around the rope holding Lucas down, and shattered, breaking him free. He landed on his feet safely. When he hit the ground, another shock wave of frost exploded from the ground.

When all was quiet, Lucas slowly looked up at Lighter, who stared back at him in amazement. He was stuck where he was, for the ice Lucas had created spread over his boots, keeping him cemented to the ground. The two of them held eye contact for a few seconds. The tension hung in the air, everyone being unsure of who was going to attack first.

However, before anything could be done, a sudden villager burst from the crowd and threw himself in front of Lucas, arms outstretched, acting as a shield.

It was Flint.

"Keep...your hands...off my boy." He panted.

Lighter growled, moving forward to push Flint away. He was stopped by the ice on his shoes. Grunting, he forcefully ripped the shoe from its trap, shattering the ice, then the other one. He walked towards Flint.

"Flint..." He began, his tone of voice softer now, "Since when do you care about him?"

"Since the moment I held him for the first time." Flint hissed, "I don't know what I've turned into...but I've been a shitty excuse for a father, that's for sure. Let me, just this once, treat my son the way he deserves it."

"He's a Psychic!"

"He's my son!"

Lighter took another step forward.

"And just what do you think you're gonna do?" He asked. Flint hesitated.

"I know how to fix him." He claimed. Lucas stared at his father, dumbfounded.

"Fix him?"

"I know how to take away this whole Psychic thing. I learned how to do it on one of my journeys to another town." Flint explained. He reached behind him and grabbed Lucas, pulling him forward, "Lemme take him to the house. Give me a few minutes, and he'll be good as new."

Lighter stared at him with disbelief. "You really have gone crazy, haven't ya? Y'know what? Fine. Work your magic. I dare you." He said, "But what happens if it doesn't work?"

Flint sighed.

"Then we kill him." He answered, "Simple as that."

Lighter thought for a few moments. His mouth twitched. He looked at Lucas, then back at Flint. A small smile appeared on his lips, and he gestured to the hill to the house.

"Good luck, then." He murmured.

And with that, Flint tugged Lucas away and towards the hill.

"So that's it, then?! 'Oh yeah, go ahead and kill my son if he does anything remotely weird!' You've gotta be-"

"Hush up, we have to get you ready."

The moment Flint and Lucas stepped into the cottage, Flint immediately began to run all around the house, grabbing who knows what. Lucas watched his father go, angrily staring him down the whole time. He was still shaking. It felt like it wasn't even real. The fact that he had almost been publicly killed not even three minutes ago made him shiver. Flint suddenly walked to the back of the house, and stood above the trapdoor leading to the basement.

"Come." He beckoned. Lucas begrudgingly followed, somewhat scared of what his father might do to him. Flint lifted open the door, allowing Lucas to feel a sense of nostalgia upon smelling the musty room. The light from upstairs managed to illuminate the room enough.

"How are you gonna take my powers away?" Lucas asked.

"I'm not." Flint said, as he continued to rummage around in the boxes. "Those abilities are a sacred thing, Lucas. Never, ever get rid of'em." He reached into one box and pulled out an old, leather bag. Lucas saw that it was strangely already packed.

"When did you pack this?" He asked.

"Sixteen years ago, after you were born." Flint set the bag down on a taller stack of boxes, using it as a table of sorts. He looked Lucas in the eye. "Lucas, I know you're scared right now. You're confused as all hell. You're wonderin' what the hell is goin' on."

Lucas nodded.

"Well, I can tell you. The thing about Psychic powers is that they're passed down. You can't just be born with 'em; it's all part of DNA." Flint explained, "You and your brother weren't just given these powers."

"You're a Psychic?!" Lucas gasped. Flint shook his head.

"No. But I married someone who was." He said. He reached into the bag and pulled out a familiar object.

The book.

It all made sense.

"Mom..." Lucas breathed, "Mom was..."

"Your mother was one of the most talented Psychics I'd ever laid my eyes upon. Through her life, she had to keep a whole part of herself a secret. The only person who knew was me." Said Flint, "When we found out she was with child, we knew at least one of you was gonna be a Psychic. So, she wrote this. She wrote this book especially for you and your brother, in the case where one or both of you was a Psychic. Now, you and I know how that turned out."

Lucas nodded, listening intently.

"Your ma knew that you didn't belong in Tazmily. She knew that when you turned sixteen, that was when you'd get your first PSI Fever, and your powers would activate. Knowing this, she and I planned your escape." Flint said.

"Escape..." Lucas thought, as Flint dug inside the bag again.

"This," Flint smacked a piece of paper down on the box, "Is a map of our country; Nowhere Islands. There's Tazmily, right there." He pointed to a certain spot on the map. "Son, you've memorized this map inside and out. What do you notice that's different?"

Lucas' eyes scanned the map intently. He looked at each corner and each section, before his eyes rested on a named pinpoint he'd never seen before. He read it aloud, almost believing it was fake.

"O-Onett." He said, "But, you said this place was fake! Like in the stories mom used to tell me! It's never been on this map."

"No, it's always been there. But the thing is, it's a town of Psychics. Only Psychics can see it. All I see is a blank spot." Flint explained. "That's where you're going." He walked to the back of the basement, and began to shove a shelf out of the way. It revealed a black opening. A gust of cold air blew into the room. Lucas stared into the blackness. It had the same tempting pull as the forest did.

"Whoa..." Murmured Lucas.

"This is a tunnel your mother created with her PSI. Follow it, and it'll lead to a path straight to Onett." Flint lifted up the bag and quickly handed it to Lucas, who was too overwhelmed to argue or ask questions, so he shrugged it on. Flint continued, "That bag's got everything you need. Compass, extra map, the book, some dried food, and some matches. There's enough rations in there to last you a few days; that's about how long it'll take to get there. As long as you stay on the path, you'll get there."

"B-but..." Lucas wildly glanced around, unable to grasp what was happening. "I'm just...going? Leaving? Right now? Dad, I'm not ready, I..."

"If you don't go now, you are going to die, Lucas." Flint warned, grabbing Lucas by the shoulders, "You can't wait, alright? I understand, this is scary. I can't imagine how scared you are. But you need to go."

Lucas stared at his father with desperation. He hadn't seen him this in touch with reality in ages. In that moment, Lucas almost felt like Flint was the man he used to be. He knew he wasn't, but it was nice to imagine. Flint sighed, and his face softened.

"Lucas, look at me." He murmured. Lucas gently glanced up at him. Flint did something Lucas hadn't seen him do in ages; he smiled. And it wasn't a smile fueled by delusions. It was a real, genuine smile. "I-I know I haven't been much of a father..." He admitted, "So let me do this for you. You're not safe in this town, and you're definitely not safe with me."

Lucas did not disagree; he nodded.

"Listen to me. I know you're scared. But remember that you are your mother's son. That woman was a fighter, and that woman scared the hell outta me sometimes. You didn't take after me; I'm a coward. You took after your ma. And she was a trooper. And so are you." Flint said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him a little. "And I know you don't believe it. Especially not when it's comin' from me..." He paused, "But you'll figure it out."

Lucas felt himself start to cry again; he didn't care. He didn't know what to do; so he hugged him. Flint's eyes widened, obviously not expecting it. He wasn't a father who deserved his son's affection, but he took it while he could. He knew that soon enough, he'd slowly drift back into his delusions, and he was terrified. He didn't want to forget his family.

"Will I ever see you again?" Lucas asked, his voice quaking.

"I give you my word. I promise, you will." Flint confirmed.

The hug lasted for a while longer, until a sudden noise from upstairs alerted them. Flint looked up, gasping. There was banging and yelling at the front door, which wouldn't hold forever.

"Go! Into the tunnel, hurry! I'll send them in the other direction!" Flint cried. Lucas nodded and began to rush into the opening. He stopped, and turned around.

"D-dad?" Lucas called softly. He hadn't forgiven his father, he didn't even think he'd taken pity. He'd never forget about what he'd gone through because of him. But at the end of the day, he cared for him. "I...I love you, dad."

Flint's eyes seemed to water, but Lucas couldn't tell. Flint smiled again, and nodded.

"I love you too. And...please believe me when I say that."

With that, Flint shoved the shelf back into place, shrouding Lucas in complete darkness.

For the next few seconds, Lucas didn't know what to do. Would he run off, and end up far away from Tazmily? He realized that he'd probably never see his town again, or the people in it. Caroline, Abbey, Fuel...

"...And Nana..." He thought, gritting his teeth. He remembered the last time he'd seen her face. She was the only one amoung the crowd who didn't look scared of him. She looked scared for him. He wondered if she still loved him. Was he still the same Lucas to her, or did she think he was a monster, just like everyone else?

A sudden banging noise from above him jolted him out of his thoughts. There was lots of yelling, but Lucas managed to make some of it out. It was coming from the top floor of the house.

"Where is he, did it work?!" It was Lighter's voice.

"I tried to come towards him, and he lost it! He was like an animal! Nearly killed me! He booked it into the forest over there! Managed to use that teleportation of his! Don't just stand there, get him!" Flint cried. The sounds of a yelling crowd and footsteps began to fade, and Lucas heard it heading in the opposite direction of himself. He sent a silent thank you to his father.

Lucas slowly turned, realizing he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. He reached into a side pocket on the bag and pulled out a box of matches, taking one out and striking it. The flame barely lit up anything, and soon blew out. He groaned in frustration and put away the matches, knowing those wouldn't do him any good. There was no way he was walking through a pitch black tunnel. His hands clenched into fists.

He knew that he had an option. He just didn't want to use it.

There had to be some other way. He could sneak upstairs and find a torch or something. He could do anything else, he just didn't want to use the abilities he knew he was capable of. But with his heartbeat quickening and his hands beginning to shake due to the fear of the darkness, he eventually squeezed his eyes shut and raised his hand.

Although he couldn't see it, he focused on where he thought his hand was. He stared intently. He didn't know how to make fire, it had just happened before.

"Fire." He said aloud, feeling kind of foolish. Nothing happened. "Flame. Blaze. Embers. Fire, appear. Fire, happen." He continued to list off whatever he could think of to possibly make his abilities work. He eventually ran out of things to say. He wondered, what was it that he had yelled out to make the ice appear before? He thought long and hard, "Peko...Pe-kai. Pe-kay? PK? PK Fire?"

Lucas yelped in surprise when the palm of his hand was suddenly lit ablaze. He stared in wonder at the gentle flame, as it fluttered softly, like a flag in the wind. Although it was small, it was bright and powerful enough to light up a solid few meters in front of him. From it drifted ashes, which flew into the air and floated off wherever. At the base of the flame, small sparks jumped to and fro.

"So that's the trigger," He thought. He waved his fingers, and rolled his hand a bit. The fire simply stayed glued to his palm. As the orange flickers brushed against Lucas' fingers, he felt no pain. "Wow..." He'd only ever thought of the evil of PSI, but had never really thought of the interesting nature of it. This would definitely be of use.

So, with that, he took off.

Running as fast as his legs would carry him, Lucas made his way down the newly lit pathway. As he ran, he noticed that the tunnel was oddly square shaped, as if he was running through a rectangle of some sort. The places where the wall met the ceiling were perfectly angular. This was definitely the work of his mother; no natural forces could do something like this.

For the next little while, all Lucas could think about was getting to the end of that tunnel. Everything that had happened in the past hour was all a blur. At one point, Lucas had almost forgotten what had happened all together. The only thing that was important was getting away. Far enough away so that he could walk safely. He wanted nothing more than to step outside and feel the night breeze on his skin. But for now, he was alone with himself and his thoughts.

It was when he'd seen a brief flicker of a different coloured light in front of him. He stopped jogging altogether, and took a moment to catch his breath. He hadn't realized how long he'd been running, and his chest burned. As he stood there, panting, he looked up and squinted in order to make sure that what he was seeing was real. His eyes weren't playing tricks; before him was a small glimmer of light. It was far, but it was there. Lucas forgot the burning in his lungs and broke into a sprint, sending dirt flying behind him as his heels dug into the ground. As the light grew closer, he could tell it was moonlight. He smiled, almost bursting into laughter out of joy. He was starting to hate that bloody tunnel.

Before he knew it, Lucas found himself stopping before the end. He saw that the tunnel narrowed down into a crawlspace, which led upwards. Lucas pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and gripped the dirt firmly, digging the tip of his shoe into the wall. With a grunt, he hoisted himself up, and began to army crawl the rest of the way through. Dirt and pebbles made their way under his shirt and into his fingernails, but he couldn't have cared less.

Lucas felt his hand break the surface, grabbing what felt like grass. He almost started crying.

"Yes...!" He murmured to himself, sliding out of the cramped hole. The sweet scent of the forest was like heaven compared to the musty scent of the passageway. Lucas brushed himself off, and jumped upon noticing that his hand was still engulfed in fire. He'd grown so used to it being there, he hadn't realized. He shook his hand, hoping to blow out the fire. To his confusion, it didn't work. He tried everything from rubbing his hand against a tree to smothering it with his jacket, which strangely didn't burn. The flames refused to douse.

As Lucas looked around desperately to find some other way to get rid of the fire, he slowly began to realize that he knew this place. He hadn't traveled that far at all, as he was near the pond he would always go to with Nana and Fuel. Before him, he saw a dirt path on the ground. This was the path he'd take into order to get to the pond.

"This is the path dad was talking about?" Lucas wondered, as he began to walk. "This is what gets me to Onett?" As a child, he'd often try to follow the path past the pond, to see how deep he could go into the forest, but he'd never get that far before getting scared. As he walked the path, he realized that when there was a pond, there was water. Perhaps that would get rid of the flames. His walk turned to a jog, and soon enough, he found himself at the large circle of water. He'd forgotten how eerie it looked at night. Across the stretch of water, he could see the area where he and his friends had been just a few hours earlier. He approached the egde and bent down, holding his hand out.

Before he could submerge it, he heard a voice. No...two voices. They seemed casual.

"Shit," Lucas thought, "I'm dead."

He instantly rushed behind a tree and stuffed his glowing hand in his jacket. He'd made a lot of noise apparently, because the voices stopped. Lucas crossed his fingers and stayed where he was, his breathing getting heavy and shaky. He heard footsteps, and they were coming right for him. He pulled his hand out of his jacket once again; this was his only weapon now. As the footsteps got closer, Lucas decided he needed to attack and catch them off guard. He prepared himself, and counted down under his breath.

"Three...two...one..." He whispered, before letting out his best attempt at a battle cry and jumping out from his hiding spot. The silhouette before him leaped backwards, obviously startled. Lucas ran towards them, ready to attack, but stopped when the flames illuminated the person before him.

"Lucas...!" They cried.

"Fuel?!" Lucas yelled, lowering his hand. Strangely, the fire doused. He didn't pay attention, though, as he was still trying to figure out if this really was his friend or not.

Indeed, it was. Fuel stood there, in a fighting position, eyes narrowed. Lucas was relieved to see his friend, but that subsided when Fuel bared his teeth.

"We figured we'd find you here." He growled. Without any warning, he threw a punch, which Lucas just barely missed.

"Jesus...! Fuel, what're you-"

"Scum! That's what you are! I should'a known!" Fuel shrieked, only getting more violent. Lucas desperately avoided the attacks, but was caught off guard when Fuel swung a leg, knocking him off balance. Lucas fell to the ground on his hands and knees, and quickly rolled to his left to dodge another kick.

"Fuel, what are you doing? Stop it, I'm your friend!" Lucas pleaded, getting back on his feet.

"You were! You were my friend! And I can't believe I let you trick me! And Nana! Both of us!" Fuel accused, backing off. It was only then, Lucas saw Nana. She stood a few feet away from the ruckus, hugging herself. They made eye contact, and Lucas had a brief moment of happiness.

"Lucas..." Nana murmured, taking a step forward.

"Nana..."

The two of them began jogging towards each other, but Lucas was cut off by Fuel grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him to the ground once more. He attempted to pin Lucas down, but Lucas managed to squirm out from underneath him. The two boys continued to wrestle, Nana pleading for them both to stop. Lucas managed to stand up, but only had a moment to compose himself, as Fuel already had him by the collar. Lucas grabbed either side of Fuel's waist and forcefully drove his knee into his stomach, sending him staggering backwards.

"PK Fire!" Lucas cried, hoping his newfound abilities could help him now. As expected, a vibrant flame burst from the palm of his hand. Unsure of how to use it, Lucas simply swung his hand forward. This caused a large mass of flames to jet outward, striking Fuel across the face and chest. He screamed, grasping his burnt cheek.

"My dad was right! You Psychics are all the same!" Fuel snarled, once again lunging at his former friend. Lucas wasn't quick enough this time, as Fuel managed to fasten an arm around his neck in a tight choke-hold. As Lucas felt his air being cut off, the adrenaline began to rush in his body, and he thrashed around as hard as he could in order to escape. Being unable to speak, he couldn't summon his fire. He felt his eyelids begin to flutter, as darkness began to close in, but suddenly found himself being released. He looked behind him to see that Nana had forcefully shoved Fuel off of him.

"Nana, what are you doing?!" Fuel cried.

"Stop it! Both of you need to stop! Is this really worth killing him over?!" Nana snapped.

Lucas hadn't comprehended her words; all he felt now was anger. With another attack cry, he threw himself at Fuel. With one hand, he gripped his shoulder, and with the other arm, he thrust up his elbow, making direct contact with Fuel's lower jaw. Fuel responded by grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind Lucas' back. A loud crack filled the air, making Lucas' blood run cold. Lucas had to rely on luck. He managed to get a good punch in before the back of his knee was kicked in, causing him to once again fall over. He heard Nana yelling protests.

Lucas looked up and saw Fuel on top of him, hands raised. It took him a while to realize that he was holding something; a weapon. A knife.

Fuel didn't hesitate to bring his hands down and forcefully drive the knife into his opponent's stomach. Lucas shrieked, more at the shock at what had just happened, rather than the pain itself. It was when Fuel pulled the knife back out when the scream was out of pain. Out of the corner of his eye, Lucas saw Nana covering her mouth, eyes wide with horror. Lucas convulsed once, before a large amount of blood spilled from his mouth and streamed down the sides of his face. He could only stare up ahead of him as he began to hyperventilate.

Fuel instantly stood up and dropped the bloodstained weapon, frozen in shock, horrified at what he'd resorted to. Sure, he'd brought the knife with the intention of killing Lucas, but now that he'd actually went and done it...

But Lucas didn't die. He only stayed there, on the ground, hands clamped over the wound as he struggled to keep the blood from seeping out.

After a few seconds of silence, a bloodcurdling, heartbroken scream ripped through the air, having come from Nana. She fell to her knees and scrambled to Lucas, lifting him up to gently cradle him. Lucas stared up at her, terrified, convinced that he was going to die. He tried to speak, but all that came out was hysterical nonsense.

"Ssssh...Lucas, calm down, it's gonna be okay...!" Nana assured. As Lucas continued to struggle for breath, he lifted a hand and put it to her face, feeling comfort from its warmth. His hand left a smeared trail of blood. He looked her in the eye, finding a moment of peace. As they continued to hold eye contact, Lucas managed to concentrate, and realized that the voice inside his head was telling him to do something else. Lucas realized that if he was going to stay alive, he needed to leave. And the voice was telling him to do one thing in particular. He took in a deep breath.

"Nana..." He rasped, finding it hard to breath with all the blood in his throat, "...I have to get away..." Nana, unsure of what he planned to do, only nodded.

Lucas took in her face one last time, and raised a hand, with his index and middle finger raised and the others closed. He gently touched his fingers to his temple, feeling a surge of power go through him. He took in another shaky breath,

"...PSI Teleport..." He managed to choke out.

And the world went black.