Hidden Flame

I stepped out of my house, the weight of Cadence pressing down on me as I walked through its streets. The air was thick with rust and the acrid scent of smog pouring from the military vehicles patrolling the roads. Every corner was lined with old, worn-down buildings, their facades battered by time and war. Some still lay in ruins, skeletal remains of a past obliterated by Vorrath's attacks years ago. Shadows of what once was.

Beyond the city, water cradled our territory, vast and endless, with a towering dam standing sentinel in its depths. It was our lifeblood, the very thing that powered Cadence and its people. Yet, despite its strength, it felt like we were all just waiting—for the next attack, the next loss, the next reason to keep fearing.

The streets were eerily empty. By day, Cadence worked, and here, work meant the military. If you weren't a health care professional or teaching the next generation, you were feeding the war avoidance machine. Defense was the only priority. So much so that it felt like no one really lived at all.

I turned down a narrow alley in the heart of the capital, the damp walls pressing in like a vice. The scent of rain-soaked stone clung to the air, mingling with the distant scent of oil and metal. At the end of the passage stood a familiar sight: a gray-bricked building, its edges softened by time but its foundation steadfast. It wasn't luxurious, but I envied the people who lived here. Independence. Freedom. Sasha's apartment was more than just a place—it was a symbol of everything I wanted.

Inside, the hallway greeted me with the scent of dust and old wood, history woven into its very bones. The floorboards groaned under my weight, their voices carrying through the dim corridor. Faded wallpaper peeled at the edges, curling like forgotten pages of a book. Muffled voices slipped through the paper-thin walls, snippets of laughter, quiet conversations, the rustle of everyday life. It was comforting. Real. So, unlike the suffocating silence of my own home.

I knocked softly on Sasha's door, my heartbeat quickening. A pause, then footsteps. The door swung open, revealing Sasha, her auburn brown hair tumbling over freckled shoulders, hazel eyes sparkling with warmth. Before I could react, she pulled me inside and into a crushing hug.

"Happy Birthday!" she shouted, her excitement infectious.

The apartment was small but bursting with light, golden rays pouring in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the space. The air smelled of daisies, her signature perfume wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. My gaze landed on a banner stretched across the living room: Happy Birthday, Olivia!

Beneath it stood Mikael, his messy brown curls a testament to his effortless charm. He grinned, his easygoing energy filling the space. Beside him, Adrian leaned against the window, her sharp features framed by jet-black hair, dark eyes assessing me with their usual intensity.

"Happy Birthday!" they both called in unison as I stepped further in.

"Thank you, guys." I forced a half smiled, shaking my head at the fuss they had made. It was sweet—really, it was—but this year was different. Celebration felt wrong when I knew what was coming.

Sasha caught on immediately. "What's wrong, Livi?" Her voice softened, hazel eyes narrowing. She always knew when something was off.

"Just... nervous." I exhaled, walking across the apartment to sink onto the couch. Mikael settled across from me, Adrian claiming the chair by the window. Sasha, naturally, flopped down beside me.

"You know you can still change your mind," Sasha pressed, her voice gentle but firm. I rolled my eyes. Mainly because this was a repeating conversation we had since we formed this plan almost a month ago. My mind was made up.

"Let it go, Sash." I ran a hand through my hair, frustration creeping in. "I'm not changing my mind."

She crossed her arms. "If you're this nervous, maybe that's a sign."