Chapter 21 Wren #3
“And you agree with this?” Wren asked when she finally found her voice again.
Arthur’s eyes drifted to the ground. Was that shame burning in his gaze? Regret? It was impossible to tell. But whatever it was, it gave Wren a glimmer of hope.
Maybe there really was someone on her side.
“It doesn’t matter what we agree with,” Quinn snapped. Her bottom lip trembled, but her gaze remained steady, anchored on the Aberrations in the distance. “Not anymore. This is what the Soulless One demands. This is what is written.”
Wren shook her head. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
Quinn’s expression hardened as she peeled her eyes away from the shadow creatures.
“They would never have met this fate if they had simply followed through with their vow.” As Quinn spoke, Wren couldn’t help but notice the hollowness in her words.
There was no conviction. No burning resolve.
Just hollow, bitter defeat. “The Soulless One grants us freedom. Power. The promise of a clean slate, cleansed from the corruption planted by Silas.” She let out a weighted sigh, glancing up at the canopy of trees.
“I don’t expect you to understand. Not now, at least.”
“I’ll never understand,” Wren replied through gritted teeth.
Arthur shook his head, muttering something under his breath.
He wandered a few feet to the left and crouched down, examining an item on the forest floor.
It was a metal rod protruding from the ground.
Around it, little filaments of light sparkled and shimmered, a web of shadows twisting inside them.
“What are you doing?” Wren asked, approaching him. “What is that?”
“They form a security barrier around the Aberrations so they can’t get too close to the actual encampment,” Arthur explained as he fiddled with the side of the contraption.
He placed his palm over the top, and one of his shadows slithered from the surface of his skin to the inside of the metal rod, filling the space with renewed shadows.
“Keeps them bound to the exterior perimeter.”
A searing heat crawled up the back of Wren’s neck.
It keeps them bound to the exterior perimeter.
Just like her security cuff kept her bound to the interior perimeter.
“Who made these?” Wren asked, careful to keep her tone light. She wasn’t sure if she had imagined it, but she swore Arthur’s olive-green eyes momentarily shifted to the security cuff on her wrist as the question echoed between them.
“Uh…I did.” He cleared his throat and returned his attention to his work. “I volunteer in the Defensive Shields tent.”
“He has to come out here every few days to reinforce the barrier,” Quinn added. “If the shadows aren’t replenished, the horde could move too close to the encampment.”
“But don’t the Aberrations follow the Demien Order’s command?” Wren asked.
Arthur scratched his wrist, apprehension clouding his expression.
“They do. Most of the time.” He stood up, dusting off his hands. “But there have been instances in the past where our control on the Aberrations has slipped. It’s difficult to explain. Almost like they gain sentience again…for a brief moment.”
Wren shivered at the thought. If the Aberrations could slip into sentience, even if only for a few seconds, did that mean that their souls were still trapped in there?
The defected Demiens who were transformed into the shadow creatures, were they simply shoved into the back of their minds, forced to watch themselves become mindless monsters?
“Either way, that isn’t something we have to worry about anymore. The Defensive Shields tent has really made improvements in the security barriers…” Arthur’s gaze flickered to Wren before awkwardly shifting to Quinn. Why is he avoiding eye contact with me? Wren wondered silently.
Another thought burned through her not a second later.
He knows something.
“The security cuffs”—Wren began, and she didn’t miss the instant pinch of Arthur’s shoulders as the words left her lips—“do you make those, too?”
Arthur swallowed. Quinn watched him carefully. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve made a few.”
Hope sparked inside Wren like a lit match. She scrambled for something else to say, anything, but before she could get her mind to conjure up a response, Quinn cleared her throat and interjected.
“Look…” she muttered. “I know this is difficult to see, but we needed you to understand the gravity not just of your situation, but of ours.” Her eyes darkened as she stepped closer. “You’re not the only prisoner here.”
Wren’s throat tightened. Even though she assumed that Quinn must be referring to the Aberrations, a part of her couldn’t help but wonder, couldn’t help but hope, that perhaps she was referring to herself.
As they headed back to the encampment in silence, a heaviness lingering in the air that wasn’t there before, Wren couldn’t stop the torrent of thoughts from surging in her mind. The thousands of possibilities. But there was one thought she couldn’t silence. One thought rising above it all.
If Arthur can make the security cuff…then maybe that means he could destroy it, too.