Chapter 1-Indigo

I looked up at the icy blackness of the night sky and let three large puffs of smoke escape my lips. Leaning back in the creaky porch chair, I took another large inhale from the pipe. The bitter sting of it left an oaky residue in my throat. The burn traveled deep into my lungs as they filled with the thick purple and blue smoke. I inhaled, my shoulders dropped away from my ears, my eyelids fluttered gently.

In the distance, I heard a great owl calling. It's gentle call rolled through the silence. Though it was sudden, it wasn’t jarring or frightening. Pleasantly deep, it lulled me into relaxation. I rocked back in the chair, hovering the front legs off of the ground. My feet pressed up against the stump of an old tree, long since removed from here. As most things were.

"Time to go." Grisham's voice ran opposite to the owl's call. I dropped my pipe, the legs of my chair landing with a thud on the solid earth beneath me.

"Grisham," I sighed and rolled my eyes, leaning over to dust off my glass pipe, "how many times must you startle me before you accept my high-strung nature?"

"How do you know I haven't accepted it?" He laughed. "Perhaps I just enjoy scaring the heartless maiden."

"And why would you enjoy that?" I took a long puff and inhaled deeply before releasing the smoke into the night sky.

"Because it's the only time I see remnants of the humanness left in you, Runel." His heavy footfalls approached my side before a hand plucked my pipe from my lips.

I watched as he inhaled the sweet smoke. His eyelids fluttering as mine had moments ago.

"Help yourself." I muttered, finally forcing myself to stand. Brushing myself off before meeting his eyes with my own.

Tilting my head upwards, I watched the purple-blue smoke float from his nostrils.

"Ready?" He asked.

His golden-green eyes and short-cropped auburn hair were just as they'd been since he was a boy. His sharp features developed more as he matured into the man he'd become. When we were kids, everyone called us the ‘Tormult twins’. Despite our differences now, our auburn hair and green eyes still gave us away. The only ones like us on this side of the wall.

"The more time you waste, the more pissed he's gonna be," he put the pipe on the stump, "no use avoiding it, Rue."

An exaggerated sigh escaped me, and I walked back towards the house. I didn't have to look back to know Grisham followed. The sound of his footsteps trailed closely at my back. The old door creaked loudly, though it opened easily. Everything about this place was old, the wallpaper peeled from the walls, the wood planks of the floor barely holding together, cracks in the ceiling that threatened to split the place in half. Even the smell was old and dusty.

"Home sweet home." Grisham muttered.

The kitchen, though clean, was hardly usable. I tried to keep things tidy. It was the least I could do to give it the facade that this place was inhabitable. Crossing the threshold to the front room revealed that the lamps were already lit, illuminating the space just enough to see him.

"You've been avoiding me, Rue." His voice was silk. It was oil in my ears.

"I'd never dream of it." I retorted, before coughing into my sleeve. Leftover Indigo working its way from my lungs.

"Using your own supply, are you?" He asked knowingly.

"In moderation." I plopped down in the armchair across from him. None of the furniture matched here. The chair's ripped cloth fabric clung to its frame, held together only by whatever fastened it.

Grisham remained standing behind me. These visits always put him on alert. The Chancellor wouldn't dare harm one of his most valuable resources, but Grisham knew what he was capable of.

I hung my arms over the edges of the chair as I slumped back carelessly. Grisham on alert meant that I could relax. As my looks were often deceiving, his weren't. He was precisely as strong as he appeared to be.

"What can we do for you, Chancellor?" I asked through a yawn. I crossed my ankle atop my opposite thigh. I wore the same boots I had during the war, the same jeans -tattered and torn. Not that I had much choice, anyway.

The Chancellor sucked his teeth as he ran his eyes over my shoddy posture. No doubt irritated by my lack of formality. He came to his feet, his uniform neatly pressed and clean. Shoulder pads secured in place to give a more masculine appearance than was natural to him. Short black hair slicked over his head, giving it a shine that reflected the flames from the lamps. His glasses did the same, making it hard to read the expression in his eyes.

"There was an incursion at the North Gate." His voice turned grave. It had been a year, almost to the day, since the last incursion. Since the last time I took off these damn boots.

"How many?" I asked, feeling tired already.

"We slaughtered fifteen at the gate before the rest retreated.” He picked up his hat, which he'd set on the end table, and began turning it in his hands. As if he knew my next question.

"How many did we lose?" I asked again, leaning forward.

"Five Facets. Six Wayfarers." His eyes remained drawn to his hat as he spoke. Their deaths were his shame.

"How did we suffer so many casualties?" Grisham cut in. His voice was just loud enough to reach The Chancellor.

"We sent for more antidote from the Cambria Colony. The Surveyor teams were sent ahead and cleared the wilderness. It should've been safe."

"Did anyone survive the attack?" I asked.

"Only one. A Wayfarer. He hasn't spoken since we recovered him." The Chancellor replied gravely.

"Casian," I repeated with more disdain than compassion, "what exactly are you expecting us to do about this? Did you forget? We're not indebted to you anymore. This is your mess. You clean it." I stood up, turning my back to him and facing Grisham.

"Indigo," The Chancellor muttered, "the Wayfarer team stumbled upon a hold of it when they tried to escape."

I froze. My affliction was also my for-profit, slightly illegal, endeavor. I spoke through clenched teeth, "I imagine in their desperation to flee, they failed to draw a map?"

"You want it don't you, Rue?" When I turned to him, his eyes were touched by the tip of his grin. "I know your sources aren't as plentiful as they once were here in Divern. And you're not one to travel to the other colonies these days."

"I didn't say I didn't want it, Chancellor," I stared back at him, "I'm just in no hurry to die, either."

I felt a breath in my ear and tipped my head towards it, "Let's talk to him, Rue. The survivor." Grisham whispered, "He might have enough information to get us there."

I sighed, "So you want us to find out where the Watchers came from and the Indigo we find out there is ours?"

"If-," His voice hung on the word, "If you find where they came from, how they were able to ambush us, then I'll let you back into Divern with all the Indigo you can carry."

The Chancellor liked to pretend our Indigo affliction didn't benefit him as much as it did me. He knowingly reaped the rewards of a chemically dependent populace that cared more about their rocks than their rulers.

“Why not just send another team of Wayfarers and Facets?” I asked.

“I don't want to draw the attention of the other colonies by pulling away our crews. I want to keep this quiet.” He replied.

Despite his true motives, he was right. Our stores were running incredibly low. I'd burned too many bridges with the Angore Colony to rely on their plentiful supply. The journey through the wilds was treacherous. I hadn't ventured outside the walls since the war, but I remember it well. The thought of it sent a shiver through my body. We relied on what my only remaining contact from Angore would send. And the store we'd found beneath this house. The one we kept hidden from wanting eyes.

Still, it wasn't enough, and the people of Divern depended on us. The people depended on Indigo. We depended on Indigo.

"Who am I to stop giving the people what they need?" I held out my hand, "Right, Chancellor?"

He shook my outstretched hand. That wolfish grin creeping over his face, "Pleasure as always, Rue."

"Take us to the Wayfarer." Grisham demanded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We followed The Chancellor to the front of the house where his Facets awaited him, sitting high atop their horses. Horseback was the preferred method of travel when the gas pumps ran dry years ago. Looking up and down the streets, bodies of motor vehicles sat idle. Frames rusted, tires flat, stripped completely bare for parts. No one bothered to move them on the outskirts of Divern. Their dilapidated forms merely accented the deteriorating road beneath them.

Horses grazed on overgrown yards in front of houses that should've been condemned. Fifteen years ago, they would've been, but not now. Since Indigo arrived, we've had much bigger problems. Preventing incursions, securing antidotes and goods from the other colonies, and my personal mission-feeding the Indigo affliction.

Grisham and I mounted our horses. Following close enough to see, but far enough to whisper to one another. As twins, much was unspoken, making private conversation practical.

“Plan?” I asked, before cupping my hand over a deep cough.

Grisham nodded.

“The usual?” I asked.

He nodded again, “If it ain't broke…”

“Don't fix it.” I finished his thought, the phrase mom always used.

We made our way through Divern. Slowly, the streets became neater, fewer barren car frames. Weeds peeking through the broken asphalt had been plucked away by Keepers. The houses grew larger the closer we got to the center of town. I enjoyed rides through this part of the colony for one reason-the laughter. Children ran through the streets here, chasing one another and giggling wildly.

Where Grisham and I stayed, there were no children. Only the lost lived where we did-former Facets, widows, and the afflicted. But here, there were families, there were children. There was a future. Somehow there were still those who believed in a future bright enough to raise a child in.

How beautiful. And how very, very stupid.

When we reached the hospital, Grisham and I dismounted and followed The Chancellor once more. Only this time, his Facets followed behind him. Each of them eyeing Graham and I with a sense of unease and suspicion. The hospital was a two story building that was once some sort of factory, from what I could tell. Engineers from Cambria kept the hospital's machines in working order. The engineers a commodity The Chancellor undoubtedly bartered a few Facets for.

We walked by the intake desk; The Chancellor giving a curt nod before they let us through. Only a few Divernians possessed the authority he did. He easily opened doors that would have slammed in my face. Being the Chancellor of Divern did have its perks. No door off limits, an army of Facets at your command.

“I wish they'd stop following us.” I said, referencing the Facets behind us as we continued down the long hallway, “It's putting me on edge.”

I scratched my neck, calculating how long it had been since I inhaled that sweet smoke of my pipe.

“It's their job, Rue.” Grisham replied, “They're told to protect The Chancellor, and that's what they do. You remember what it's like.”

“I remember.” I replied.

Grisham stopped abruptly and turned to face the two male Facets following closely behind us, “Would you mind giving us some breathing room here? We're not a threat.”

“You sure about that?” The younger of the two remarked, looking me up and down as I bit off a loose fingernail and spit it to the side of the hall, “This one looks like she woke up on the bad side of an Indigo affliction.”

He scoffed, nudging his partner, who grinned widely.

I cocked an eyebrow but didn't say a word.

Reaching out his strong, slender fingers, Grisham grabbed the young Facet by his collar and pulled him towards his face. The camouflage jacket the young man wore stretched beneath the resistance of Grisham’s pull.

“Do you know who we are? Who she is?” He nodded towards me without taking his eyes off the young man. “She saved us from the last incursion. If not for her, Divern would've been overrun by The Watchers. Show some fucking respect.”

“She's not- one of us-” The young Facet struggled, “She wears the greens- of another soldier.”

“There's only been one female Facet.” The slightly older man interrupted his comrade. “You're not telling me this is her? She's not…”

“The Silver Blade,” my brother finished the man's sentence. The muscles of Grisham's neck flared as he set his jaw. His tattered leather jacket concealed the musculature of his arms. He dared not wear his Facet greens anymore. It was too painful for him.

Quite the contrary to my daily garb. I wore the same greens every single day. I couldn't seem to let them go. No matter how sick I felt at the sight of my jacket, my boots- I saw myself no other way. I was a living photograph of who I'd been when the wall fell.

“She's fucking crazy, man. Look at her.” The young Facet’s brown eyes ran me over once again. The look on his face became increasingly disgusted, even as Grisham's grip tightened. “She's got those glassy eyes. She's pale. Her cheeks are sunken in. And she's still wearing greens. If she really is The Silver Blade, she's a deserter and doesn't deserve to wear the greens!”

“She's earned the right to wear the greens as long as she wants to,” spit from Grisham's mouth flew towards the Facet's face, “have you ever seen them? The Watchers? Do you know the empty, soulless eyes they have? Their pallid skin touching yours, the feeling of death creeping over you. And when they get close enough, the feeling of cold emptiness you feel when they suck your life away. Leaving you to suffocate and die just for the fun of it.”

The Facet quivered at Grisham's words. The tension on his greens grew until his jacket was too taut for him to move any farther. “Look man, calm down. I didn't mean anything by it.”

“You haven't even seen the outside of these walls, have you?” Grisham’s voice purred through his clenched jaw. Hand on my forehead, I sighed as the exchange continued. Grisham's defensiveness wasn't a surprise. He'd always been my champion. My only fan. Even when I didn't deserve it.

“Well no, not yet. I… We….” he looked over at his partner, who glanced off towards the wall. Refusing to speak on his behalf. I laughed as I chewed on my sleeve.

I walked to the Facet hanging from my brother's grasp and patted him on the shoulder before whispering into his ear, “Come find me if you survive outside these walls. I'll save some Indigo for you. We can share a smoke.”

“Unhand him, you brute!” The Chancellor shouted before forcing himself between my brother and the Facet.

The Facet stumbled backward and straightened his greens in an attempt to appear unbothered by the encounter. I flung my heavy auburn braid back over my shoulder and we continued down the hallway.

“You don't have to do that, you know?” I spoke quietly.

“You're my sister, Runel. It's my responsibility.” He replied.

“I'm a big girl, Grish. I can handle a little shit talking.”

“I know you can. But I don't think you should have to,” he nudged me with his shoulder. “You're strong. I know that better than anyone. I just don't want you to have to be all the time.”

I smiled at him and nudged back. If he hadn't been there with me after the incursion, I'd be dead. Not from any doing of The Watchers, at least not directly, but by my own hand. Long after the fighting stopped, I still heard their noises in my head. They'd burrowed into my mind once it touched me and I couldn't get them out. When it touched me, the strongest Watcher I’d ever faced, I saw the pictures in my mind. Death, over and over, our people being slowly killed by them. I couldn't stop all the pictures, even after it released me. An endless playlist of death in my head.

Indigo affliction was already a part of me by then. If I wasn’t smoking it, I was running from the terrors I couldn’t explain to anyone. Not even my brother. I would've done anything to make it stop.

And I did.

Grisham found me that night. Covered in my own blood. The panic on his face, the fault all mine. I promised I'd never do it again, no matter how tempting it was.

But the Indigo…

It was the only thing to keep the voices away. The images swirling in my mind. The soulless stares of The Watchers. The shrieks they made each time they claimed another life. It was constantly dwelling at the back of my mind, just waiting to be freed. But as long as I had the Indigo, I could manage it.

And I wasn't alone.

My clients were mostly former Facets. They needed it just as much as I did. The only thing keeping them tethered to their lives was Indigo. Even as some went mad and withered away, at least they lived when they so easily could’ve died.

I walked to The Chancellor who stood outside one of the treatment rooms. He read the treatment sheet just outside the door, mumbling to himself.

“What's his name?” I asked softly.

“Vellum.” The Chancellor replied quietly.

He slowly turned the handle, and we followed him in. The Chancellor’s Facets stationed themselves outside the door.

The room smelled of stale old crackers and mothballs. It was somewhat revolting when mixed alongside the smell of bloodied bandages and homemade anesthetic.

Vellum sat at the edge of his thin white mattress and looked out the window. From the window, the edge of the wall was visible just above the rims of the buildings that filled every crevasse of central Divern. A visual reminder that we'd been packed together like sardines in a can after the collapse of everything.

The wall was the only thing separating us from them. Like the other colonies, the people of Divern learned quickly that they shouldn't touch Indigo shards of the wall. Even the afflicted wouldn’t dare steal those shards. The colonies farmed it to build the walls, making it property of the government and the people. Without it, The Watchers would have killed us all off long ago.

Some believe the Indigo appeared to warn us of their arrival. And that's why they can't touch it. Others think it's nothing more than a far-fetched coincidence, citing Murphy's Law. I think it's neither option. I think it's something far worse.

But I smoke it to keep the worries away. To remind myself that it's someone else's problem. Certainly not mine. Not anymore.

“Vellum?” The Chancellor whispered, placing his hand on the frail man's shoulder. “We're here to talk to you.”

Vellum turned to look at The Chancellor and then at Grisham and I. His dark hair hung disheveled over his forehead. The burdens of what he'd seen shadowed his dark blue eyes. A look I knew from glimpses I'd caught of myself in the mirror. His face was lean, as if he hadn't eaten since the attack at the Gate. His hospital gown revealed little of his stature or size, leaving it a mystery to me.

“Talk… to me.” He repeated the words slowly.

“Yes, we need some very important information, Vellum.” The Chancellor began, “This is Grisham and that's Runel. They were some of the best Facets we've ever had. They're retired, but they agreed to help us now. What happened at the Gate? We need to find out what we can do to prevent it. We need to know everything you saw. What you saw before the attack, when The Watchers followed you back to the Gate, anything that might help them. Now, you're a Wayfarer. You know this area better than any of us. We need you to show us where you found those Indigo shards before The Watchers found your team. I know you're-”

“Sshhhh.” I hissed. As The Chancellor spoke, Vellum’s expression became more drawn. I'd watched the eyes of my comrades turn glassy too many times to ignore what had happened to him.

I nodded at Grisham, who approached Vellum slowly, more carefully. His large form turning impossibly smaller when he sat before Vellum.

“Vellum,” Grisham spoke softly, and the withdrawn man turned to face him, “I'm going to help you clear your mind to remember things that might be helpful to us, but I need your permission to do that.”

“You can… but how?” V