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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #2325726
Layla wakes up from a dream, thankful to be in a warm bed amidst the frosty wasteland
The frost was the first thing Layla could remember. The longing to be warm in this wintry hellscape, the desire to feel the heat of a burning flame. She had walked for... how long was it now? Hours? Days? Maybe weeks? Her body was riddled with frostbite, but all she could do was keep moving, eyes as dead as her parents staring at the floor. They had run out of food by giving the last bit to her, and telling her to go seek shelter somewhere from the cold. They sent her away so that she wouldn’t have to see them die, see their corpses. But Layla already knew what a corpse looked like, and what skeletons looked like. There were so many under the ice, and in these things called cars that once roamed the streets of the city she came from. She had made it farther than she thought, honestly. Far out of the city, she was now caught in a snow storm, not being able to see anything past her nose. Her body would soon collapse and she could stop feeling the pain in her limbs when death came for her. It’s a miracle she had lasted ten years in the first place.

And then, she saw it. Something ahead of her, some kind of door. It was big and metallic, but for some reason, it wasn’t frozen shut. Layla also saw some kind of camera looking at her through the storm, a small red light on it. Was it still working, even after all the years of disrepair? That meant there might be someone here. But why would they ever bother to help her? Her questions were answered when the door emitted a hissing noise, jolting forward with blaring red lights circling on either side. The heavy bunker door slid up before her and into the roof, allowing her passage into the airlock. For the first time since her birth, Layla felt that little tingling sensation in her chest. Hope. Then, she woke up. Layla’s eyes were dripping tears, her long raven black hair falling over her shoulders and onto the bed sheets. Her limbs were still attached, and the door was still locked with a shelf pushed against it. Doesn’t look like anyone managed to make it inside. Behind her, the boy was still clinging to her back for the warmth that her body provided.

Elijah hadn’t woken up yet. They were still safe for now, so Layla decided to let him sleep in a bit more. After all the walking he had to do, he was dead tired when they arrived at the city. She had agreed to escort him this far, but she didn’t just want to leave him at some orphanage without any protection. God alone knew what the people of this city were like. It was already riddled with gangs that the enforcement squads were barely able to keep in check, and Layla didn’t have that much ammunition left. She didn’t want to expose herself as a mage here lest she be seen, and promptly brought into a meeting with city officials who would likely want her power for themselves. The radio slowly played out songs from the local station that they’d managed to get up and running again, all while the cold winds battered the windows. Deciding to stick with Elijah for the time being, Layla rolled over and pulled him close, using a bit of magic to heat her body further. He cuddled up to her like a moth to a candle, and for the first time in a while, Layla felt a gentle smile come over her face.

She would do for this kid what that gracious old man did for her back then. Pass on her knowledge of magic, and keep it alive in this world for just a little while longer. For now though, they would rest, and recoup their strength for the next journey.
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