Episode 47

The system of power turns like wheel

You can rise to the top through money or steel

You could lift up others or leave them in muck

But it’s the poor who will suffer when the wheel becomes stuck

If the problems aren’t met with any solution

The wheel must turn in bloody revolution

The vermin will rise as the predator sinks

Let’s see then if the fox can outsmart the lynx

The next day, Lilian went to meet Mistress Eleyna in the southern quarter of Zandt. The buildings were built slightly taller here and although they had originally been painted white, many of their walls were now adorned with works of art. On their way to the address they had been given, Lilian and Fritha walked past giant murals depicting veiled faces, thousands of flowers and even the occasional mythical creature. Lilian was glad for the distractions. She had been debating the idea of getting a tattoo all night. Peter had been against it, claiming the chemicals used in certain inks were untested and dangerous. Serena was intrigued and had instantly asked about what design Lilian would choose. Lilian still wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted the tattoo, let alone what design she would get. Mistress Eleyna had assured her that it was just a silly tradition and that there were many people who never got one. But Lilian had worked very hard these past few weeks and she felt as though that effort warranted some sort of commemoration. Besides, the idea of a tattoo had secretly been brewing in her mind for a while now, long before she arrived in Zandt. It was for this reason she had brought along the jar of earth that Mr Attorcop had brought back from the dead forest. She had spoken to Peter about it last night and they had agreed that while potentially dangerous, the mixture of dead earth and lunar essence could make for a powerful substance.

“You know tattoos are placed under the skin right?” Peter had said, “so that means that if you use this as ink, you’ll be getting it into your blood.” Lilian had considered the risks all night. If they had not had their supply of lunar essence stolen from them, Lilian might have reconsidered. But if there was even a slight chance that her plan would work, she knew she had to take it. The vial of essence jangled against the jar of earth in her shoulder bag as Lilian hopped up a flight of steps lined in copper coloured clay. If Mistress Eleyna’s instructions were to be trusted, the meeting point would be just up here and around the corner.

Lilian walked past two young women who were chatting on a step. She glanced briefly at their arms and shoulders, they were covered with intricate floral designs. Lilian was reminded of the palace gardens in Freedos, only these were monochrome dark brown with too many swirls and pathways to count. They smiled at her as she walked past and Lilian smiled back. Fearing being late she decided to turn back and ask them for directions, if anyone would know where the parlour was, surely they would. One of them looked confused and glanced at her friend, she knew more of Lilian’s language and replied in her broken speech.

“Yes. Tattoach. Up on… er… balcon. Balcony.” She pointed up the stairs and Lilian recognised the word ‘balcony’. She bowed her thanks and sped on up the steps. After a few more twists and turns, she found the balcony they were speaking of.

It had to be reached via a ladder which was wrapped in vines and nearly invisible to the un-searching eye. In fact, if Lilian hadn’t heard Mistress Eleyna’s stern voice coming from somewhere above her, she might have walked past the ladder and missed the balcony altogether.

“Ah, Lilian! You found us.” Mistress Eleyna greeted her with a smile as Lilian's head popped up over the railing. Fritha was having difficulty climbing the ladder so a large basket was dropped down using a winch, the arm of which swung out over the edge of the balcony. Lilian guessed it was used for transporting supplies but Fritha seemed happy enough to get in the basket and be hoisted skywards like a bag of multicoloured fruit. It wasn’t until Fritha was safely retrieved that Lilian noticed the view from where they were. The balcony looked out over the entire southern quarter of the city and from this height, Lilian could see the colours of the hundreds of rooftop gardens stretching out into the distance and turning the white city into a jungle of luscious greens, reds and yellows.

“You must be Lilian.” A voice drew her attention to the dark doorway behind her. A man was there, short and smiling. He wore white, loose fitting trousers and no shirt. His dark tanned body was littered with images and designs. The colours used in his tattoos were more vibrant and vivid than any Lilian had ever seen. Her eye was drawn to a particularly bright bird on his left shoulder, it’s wings were red and tinted with what looked like gold. There was a dog with a sad expression on his lower right side and his right arm was the perfect pictorial representation of a park scene. Lilian could see the hanging pink flowers of a cherry blossom reflected perfectly in the rippling water of the pond beneath it.

“Yes! Sorry. Yes I’m Lilian.”

“Welcome,” he replied, “I’m Hafiz, please, come in.” Lilian felt a pang of nerves flare up in her stomach. Hafiz seemed friendly and judging by his own body, certainly talented, but Lilian was still unsure. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Mistress Eleyna, smiling down at her.

“Lilian, you know you don’t have to get anything, yes? Hafiz does not care either way.” Lilian smiled, glad for the reassurance.

“Thank you. I know.” They both stepped inside, out of the glaring sun. It took a few seconds for Lilian’s eyes to adjust, but once they had, she was met with a charming site.

The room was larger than she had expected, filled to bursting with art work on every wall, sculptures on every table and the smell of incense and oil paint hanging in the air. Hafiz was bustling around a large chair, cleaning some equipment.

“So,” he spoke with a piece of charcoal hanging out of one side of his mouth, “Eleyna says you are a fighter?” Lilian nodded while looking at an unfinished painting of a cottage, resting on an easel. “Hmm,” he replied, “I’m more of an artist than a fighter. But I suppose there is some artistry in fighting.” He smiled at Mistress Eleyna who rolled her eyes. These two were clearly old friends. “Although,” he continued while Lilian brushed her finger tips along the edge of a sculpture of a hand, “I would say art is more about creating life, than ending it.” Mistress Eleyna raised her eyebrows, “What would you know about creating life, maart?” Lilian knew that this meant ‘man’. Hafiz raised his hands in mock surrender,

“Truth! Truth Eleyna. Now, Miss Lilian. If you were to get something painted today, did you have a design in mind?” Lilian thought for a moment and came to an image that she’d had in her head for many months now.

“I was thinking, perhaps, a mountain with the moon above it.” Hafiz considered this, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in thought.

“Hmm, something special about this mountain?” Lilian nodded.

“I grew up in a mountainside town. I thought having my home with me would be nice.” Hafiz nodded and Eleyna smiled at her. Hafiz grabbed a bit of parchment and began sketching something out with the piece of charcoal he’d kept in his mouth. His hands moved quickly, and Lilian approached him, dying to see what kind of thing he would come up with. She heard him mutter under his breath.

“Could go abstract, nice shapes, a triangle and a circle. But no, the moon is too complex to be reduced to just her shape. And the mountain, hmm, perhaps some snow here…” He mumbled like this for a few minutes and eventually flattened the page out on a small table in front of Lilian.

He’d actually done several designs, each one in a different style. Lilian liked them all, and was instantly reminded of Benlunar, which made her smile. They discussed them for a while and Hafiz mixed one of the moons with a different mountain and added a few more details under Lilian’s instruction. Eventually they’d found a design that they both liked and Lilian realised that it was nearly time to make the decision. She was feeling good about it, and although she’d heard about the amount of pain getting a tattoo done could cause, it couldn’t be much worse than five weeks of rigorous combat training, or being thrown out of a window for that matter.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Lilian reached into her bag and pulled out the jar of dirt and the vial of Lunar essence.

“Hmm,” said Hafiz, “what have we here?”

“I was wondering,” replied Lilian, “if you could mix these things to create the ink?” Hafiz looked up at Eleyna.

“You say she’s never had a tattoo and here she is mixing her own inks?” He smiled and went back to examining the contents of the jars. “May I?” he went to open the jar of earth, Lilian nodded. He examined the earth, smelled it and crushed some between his fingers. He then turned his attention to the vial of essence. It’s shining light illuminated the designs on his chest, giving them a shimmering, lifelike quality.

“Hmm, yes yes. I understand. More than life, less than death. The agent and the reactor, making you the catalyst. Very clever.” He stood up quickly and went over to a desk in the corner. It was overflowing with glass containers.

“Please, be careful…” Lilian warned but Hafiz was already turning to assuage her.

“Fear not, young one. I know precious things when I see them. I had thought today would be a young person’s first tattoo, very normal for me, but now I see. Today is the day I prove myself. The most important day of my life as an artist. Today, I deal with real mana.” Lilian wasn’t sure what he meant, but something about his excitement and his handling of the vials made her trust him. She nodded and he went over to the desk.

While he pottered about, cleaning beakers and measuring out precise amounts with a copper scale, Mistress Eleyna approached Lilian.

“Lilian, where did you get those things?” Lilian looked up at her Mistress.

“It’s a long story. The glowing liquid is from my home, but the earth is from somewhere else. Somewhere dead and distant.” Mistress Eleyna looked at her with a look of understanding, she then glanced at Fritha.

“I knew you were a strange girl from when I first saw you. You fought well that day. But getting to know you and getting to teach you… it’s been a real pleasure for me. Thank you Lilian.” Lilian was shocked. She had not expected this and was momentarily stuck for words.

“No Mistress Eleyna, thank you! I’ve learned so much. And I feel less... scared now.” Mistress Eleyna nodded in understanding. Fritha approached them and let out a calming purr. Mistress Eleyna ruffled the tuft of fur on her head and Fritha’s coat cycled through turquoise blues and fluorescent yellows.

“She’s going to miss you,” said Lilian.

“And I will miss you both. But you will come back. I know it in my heart. This is not our last time together.” Lilian smiled at the surety in her voice. Hafiz shuffled back towards the group of chairs, having finished whatever he was doing over by the desk. In his right hand he held an ink well. Inside it, Lilian could just make out a swirling, shimmering, black liquid.

“We do not have much time,” he said, gesturing to the liquid. Lilian realised suddenly that she had never actually made the decision to get the tattoo, but her life had brought her to this point and it would seem strange to go against it. Like fighting a wave, instead of surfing it to safety. She looked at Mistress Eleyna, then to Hafiz, and she nodded.

“The moon. The mountain.” Hafiz smiled.

“The moon. The mountain.” Lilian repeated, and the art began.

Once Lilian was comfortable, she rested her wrist on the arm of a large, soft chair. Hafiz brought a small stool towards her and rested the inkwell on a little table, next to the chair. From there, he picked up two sticks, one of which had the smallest of metal attachments, jutting out of one end. This he dipped into the ink, took a deep breath, and got to work. Lilian watched him for a while. He would bring the metal end of the stick to her skin and tap it lightly with the other tool which he held in his opposite hand. At first, Lilian didn’t see what all the fuss was about. She felt the impact of each tap, and even saw the metal spikes draw blood from her arm. But she felt no pain. At first. After a few taps, the process began to sting. Then it began to hurt, and then, it began to burn. She clenched her fist tight and leant her head back on the chair. She tried to distract herself by looking at the artworks around her, by talking to Mistress Eleyna but nothing worked. Each tap drew her back to the moment, back to the burning. Regret began to pace through her mind, why had she done this? What was she thinking? What would her mother say?

“You’re doing great, little one,” she heard Mistress Eleyna through a red haze of pain. Lilian tried to smile but felt embarrassed by a hot tear streaming down her cheek.

“Is it nearly over?” she asked, through gritted teeth.

“Nope, just getting started.” Hafiz mumbled. Lilian let out a string of curses which would have made Brother Thomas blush. Hafiz laughed, “Good! Keep going, whatever you need to do.” Lilian thought about what she needed to do and gave in to the impulse that had been bubbling inside her for the past few minutes. With a deep breath, a look up and a clenched fist, Lilian let out a long and solemn scream. Fritha joined in with a howl, the pain subsided a little and Lilian settled in for the long, motionless journey.

Two and a half hours felt like a lifetime but finally it was over. Hafiz wiped away the blood and applied a salve to the affected area.

“Do not wash this off until this time tomorrow, understand?” Lilian nodded, at least, she thought she nodded, it was hard to be sure through the fuzzy confusion affecting her head. Mistress Eleyna helped her stand-up, gave her a drink of fresh water and walked her about the room. Lilian didn’t recall much after that, but she did remember reaching into her pocket for a golden crown and placing it on Hafiz’s desk by way of payment. She then vaguely recalled descending the ladder and having Mistress Eleyna guide her through the streets of Zandt, back towards her accommodation. She remembered seeing Peter and Serena, waiting for her in the kitchen, and having them feed her some sweet bread. Their voices were echoey and far away and Lilian did not remember anything that they’d said. Upon waking up in her bed the next day however, she did recall the letter they had given her. It was over on the desk beside her bed now and Lilian got up quickly to reread it. The stinging from her arm prevented her from moving too fast and she looked down at the green salve which had hardened in the night and was now cracked and flaking. Ignoring the pain, she went to the letter. She had not dreamed it then, it was just how she recalled it from her semi-lucid state. It was neatly folded parchment with a familiar scrawl on it in black ink. The handwriting belonged to Mr Attorcop and the whole letter was comprised of just seven words.

The time is right. Return to Freedos.

Had it been up to Lilian she might have stayed a few more weeks in Zandt, brushing up on her fighting technique, exploring the city and maybe finding out more about the Holy Solar Order. But she trusted her mentor back in the city and if she was to succeed in toppling a regime, then she would need to get back to where she was needed. When she went to the kitchen, she found Peter already packing his bags.

“Ah! You’re up! How you feeling?”

“Heavy,” Lilian replied, gesturing to her head.

“Aye, that’ll be dehydration, drink this,” he passed her a canteen and Lilian took a swig. The water was cool and refreshing. “Little sips, all day, understand?” Lilian nodded, fighting the urge to drink the whole can in one go.

“You saw the letter then?” she said, nodding to the bags.

“We read it together, you don’t remember?” Lilian shook her head, “Well, needless to say, the time has come.” Lilian heard a hint of sadness in his voice. “I walked Fritha to the harbour this morning and booked us passage on a ship. It leaves this evening. The captain was wary at first but I think he changed his mind when he saw her.” He pointed at Fritha who was sniffing around beneath the kitchen counter for any dropped food.

“Oh? Why’s that?” asked Lilian, raising her voice slightly and then instantly regretting it as it made her head throb. Peter shrugged,

“Not sure. But news travels fast amongst sailors, maybe our friend Captain Terne has been singing her praises.” he paused and looked at Lilian with a serious expression, “Will you be okay to travel today?” Lilian nodded.

“I’ll be fine. I just… I want to say goodbye to Mistress Eleyna if I can.” Peter nodded in understanding.

“Well, the ship is called The Darling and she’s set to leave mid afternoon. We can meet you on board.” Lilian looked up,

“We?” she repeated.

“Serena is travelling back with us.” Lilian smiled at this. She hadn’t properly chatted with her new friend in a few days and was eager to show her the tattoo. She glanced down at the green, flaky paste on her arm. It itched like mad, but Lilian was under strict instructions not to touch it. That at least, she remembered.

After a bite to eat and a few more sips of fresh water. Lilian headed out with Fritha to make the climb to the temple, one last time. She savoured every step, turning around often to marvel at the white city. Once inside the temple, she headed straight for the main hall where she knew she would find Garold and Mistress Eleyna. She could hear their swords clashing from the entrance passage and smiled when she stepped into the great hall and saw her classmate desperately trying to defend himself against a flurry of attacks.

“Lilian!” he shouted, “Please step in, I have forgotten how mean she is.” Lilian smiled and waited for them to finish their lesson. When they took a break she explained to both of them about the letter and how she needed to leave. Mistress Eleyna seemed sad.

“Your lessons are far from finished.”

“I know,” agreed Lilian, “but I can’t stay. I promise I’ll practise my stances every day though.” Mistress Eleyna nodded. Garold gave her a big hug and Lilian wished him the best of luck with his career in the army. She then turned to Mistress Eleyna and bowed, half out of respect and half to prevent her Mistress from seeing the tears in her eyes.

“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Lilian reached into her pocket and pulled out two gold crowns, “for the lessons.” Mistress Eleyna took them.

“Thank you,” she stared at the coins, thinking about what to say. “Remember to shift your weight on your third stance, fifth movement. And…”she faltered in her speech, “and when you see Nicholas Telson. Tell him Eleyna has not forgotten.” Lilian nodded, hugged her teacher and her friend and then turned around before either of them could see her cry.

By early evening the three friends, along with their faithful feinhound, were back on the water. The Darling was a trading vessel, similar in shape to The Swift Stag but slightly larger. It’s captain was a stern man called Tremulo who did not speak much and was known amongst his crew to punish any form of gambling on board. His belief was that any luck that anyone had should be spent on the journey, and not wasted on a game of cards. The main cargo was silks and a few passengers who needed to get to Freedos. As they drifted down the river, Lilian joined Serena on the stern. Together, they watched Zandt diminish into the distance.

“I never thought I’d be sad to leave that city,” said Serena. She turned to look at Lilian, “thank you for making my stay so wonderful. Can we still be Friends in Freedos?” Lilian smiled,

“Oh I’m not sure,” she said wryly, “are you sure you want to be seen with a dirty country mouse like me.” Serena laughed.

“Well if you’re a dirty country mouse then I’m a big city rat. We can be vermin together.”

“Delightful!” Lilian giggled.

“Oh!” exclaimed Serena, “I nearly forgot. Can I see your tattoo?” Lilian jumped, she had nearly forgotten all about it since it had stopped itching a few hours ago. And with all the excitement of packing and leaving the city she had yet to wipe off the salve.

“Oh, yes, let’s have a look. One second, I’ll get a cloth.” Lilian hurried off to find a dishcloth which she dampened with a bit of fresh water. Upon returning, she looked at Serena and smiled in anticipation.

“Ready?”

“Enough suspense, let’s have a look!” Lilian brought the cloth to her forearm and slowly wiped away the salve. She needed to pass over the spot a few times and after getting most of it off she looked up at Serena in confusion.

“Where… where is it?” Serena asked. And she was right to, because no matter how much Lilian examined her arm, the tattoo was not there.

Lilian spent the journey agonising over the strange absence of her tattoo. Her first thought was that she had waited too long to take the salve away. But Peter assured her that that wouldn’t have made several hours worth of ink just disappear, it would just have made the salve a little harder. Her second idea was more sinister. Perhaps she had been conned? Perhaps Hafiz had stolen the vial of essence and the jar of earth and had used some kind of disappearing ink. But that didn’t explain everything. The pain she had felt had been very real, so where was the evidence of that? There were no scabs, no scars, nothing. Just her arm, pale and freckly, as it had always been. As the boat bobbed along the sea, Lilian grieved the loss of something she had never seen. It was meant to be a commemoration of her time in Zandt and a reminder of home all in one, and she had gone through the terrible ordeal of getting it done, so its absence stung almost as much as the needle that made it. As the days at sea went by, the pain faded, but Lilian still felt a pang of resentment whenever she glanced down at her arm. Thankfully, her various bruises and strains from fighting had healed. One morning while practising her handstands on the bow of the ship, she realised that even the persistent pain from her broken arm had disappeared entirely. Perhaps it was the sea air or the results from all that hard work training with Mistress Eleyna, but her steps felt lighter somehow, her breaths deeper, her kicks higher. Not by much, but enough to be noticeable. She missed practising the Atarapian style already and even resorted to getting Peter to pretend to attack her only so that she could see how she would react. Peter was a terrible fighting partner and often complained of the odds not being fair or that his wrist hurt or just generally whinging and wishing to go back to his notes and books. Serena on the other hand was more than happy to take his place. What she lacked in technique, she made up for in enthusiasm. Lilian had to dodge some rather vicious fists and got the impression that Serena Bellaswan had some serious anger buried deep within her pristine exterior.

A few, uneventful days later a familiar coast line came back into view on the starboard side. That morning, the old volcano came into view. The spires and towers of the capitol city could just about be seen through the mist.

“We’ll be there by evening,” said Peter as the three of them marvelled at the view, “Serena, you don’t know this, but Lilian and I didn’t leave Freedos on the best of terms.” Without even blinking Serena responded with,

“Then you’ll need disguises.” A few minutes later, she returned with a couple of travelling cloaks. “Put these on,” she said, “you can pretend to be my servants. If you put the hoods up then people won’t see your faces.” They thanked her and tried the cloaks for size. They were a tad too big, but would suffice in the low light. Thankfully, it looked as though it was about to rain, so the hoods would not look out of place. Lilian looked down at Fritha, her heart heavy with what she was about to ask her. She’d sworn once that she would never ask her to hide again, but the situation was just too dangerous. She knelt down and began to speak to her fine furred friend. Looking into Frithas big, golden eyes, she could not not quite bring herself to break her promise. Fritha came closer, sniffing the cloak and seemed to understand.

“Fritha, I’m so sorry…” but Fritha did not let her continue. She interrupted Lilian with her low gong tone. “Yes,” said Lilian, “fear. This is scary, but we can do it.” Fritha took a step back. She then proceeded to shake, like she was drying herself after a swim. Only there was no water on her, instead, Lilian watched as her hair began to lengthen and darken. The vibrant colours dulled and within a few seconds she was disguised as the big, brown dog again. Lilian smiled and hugged her.

“Thank you. I promise it won’t be for long. We’re done with hiding. Soon, we shine, understand?” Fritha licked her face and Lilian giggled. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at Peter, his face was serious.

“Best start getting ready.”

The sun sank slowly beyond the sea and the moon showed her face to light The Darling’s way to safety. The Freedos port was connected to the city walls by a short road and it was here that Serena’s cloaks came in most useful. Waiting for them there were a group of men, not Weardian as Lilian had expected, but soldiers. They had erected a sort of check point made up of sand bags and a shabby cabin. Lilian didn’t remember it being there when they left, and she was sure they had taken this same road.

“Papers miss,” A gruff soldier spoke to Serena. The rain dripping down his face and staining his grim expression. Serena played her part wonderfully while Lilian watched from beneath her hood.

“Papers? Who do you think you are? If you don’t let us through this instant I shall be speaking to my father and he’ll have your job, do you understand? I’ve never heard such insolence.”

“My apologies madam,” said the soldier through gritted teeth, “but we’re checking everyone entering the city. Some dangerous folk out there.”

“Hmph!” Serena pouted and clicked her fingers at Peter who obediently reached into a satchel to extract the proper documentation. “I’ve never experienced such indignity in all my days.” It was all an act of course. A show to distract the men from who was under the hoods. Serena even went so far as to pretend to fall into a puddle, forcing a nearby soldier who was getting a little too close to Lilian, to catch her.

“Oh! My goodness. Thank you sir. Your colleague over there could learn a thing or two about manners from you.” Despite her nerves, Lilian had to stifle a laugh.

After a few tense moments which included some bag searches and lamps shone in people’s faces, the party were allowed to go on their way. As soon as they were out of earshot of the soldiers, they congratulated Serena.

“My dear it was nothing. You should have seen me talk my way into Mrs Havers sugar dinner last winter. I complained so much the doorman was nearly in tears!”

The party eventually reached the city gates. More soldiers were stationed here. As the drizzle of rain developed into a shower, Lilian’s bad feeling became full blown anxiety. All this, just to enter the city? How many more soldiers would they encounter once inside the walls? Serena deftly navigated her way through the checkpoint once again, although this time was a little easier as the soldiers clearly didn’t want to be standing around in the rain. There was a moment where one man eyed Fritha for a suspiciously long time.

“What breed is she?” he asked Lilian.

“She’s a mountain hound,” she replied. The soldier stepped closer and Fritha growled. “Careful,” said Lilian, “she bites.” Thankfully, the man nodded in understanding and stepped away, placated. Lilian felt pride well up inside her, detecting fear was a useful skill, but instilling it was better still. Serena kept the rest of the men distracted and after showing them her travel papers and flashing her pearl white smile, the soldiers parted and let them through. Lilian wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but knew better than to think the trouble was over.

The streets of Freedos were quiet save for the lashings of rain and little rivers flowing into leaf blocked gutters. Their little group kept quiet, not wishing to draw any more attention to themselves. Their cloaks were soaked through and their eyes were trained on the paving stones in front of them.

“The man at the gate said there’s a curfew in place. It starts at 10th bell, so we should find somewhere to spend the night soon,” Serena whispered loudly through the rain.

“That explains the empty streets,” said Peter.

“I’ve never seen the city like this…” added Lilian, things must be bad, she thought. “Serena, are you not going up the hill?”

“I won’t make it in time. We should find an inn,” she replied.

“I know one nearby,” said Peter. He picked up his pace and Lilian hurried after him. After a second, she realised that Serena was falling behind. Turning around to check on her, Lilian saw that she had stopped completely.

“Peter, wait,” she called out, pointing to their friend, “Serena? What’s wrong?” Serena turned to them and through the sheets of rain, Lilian saw her shocked expression. Slowly, she raised her hand and pointed up at the wall beside her. It was the side of a large building, Lilian had passed it many times while out on deliveries to this part of the city. She’d never paid it much attention but Serena’s face made her stomach churn with worry. She ran back to join her and looked up at the wall where she was pointing. Lilian wanted to gasp, but her breath caught in her throat.

Adorned on the wall, twenty foot high in bright lead paint was a mural. It depicted a girl, dressed in green with bright red hair. She wore a serious expression and her hands were balled up into tight fists. Sitting beside her was a beautiful beast, multicoloured with bright cat-like eyes. Above them, in text as tall as Lilian, was a single word: Resist. Just as Peter came running to join them, Lilian found her breath and spoke:

“It’s me…”