Ardor Trails

I knew I had no reason to be afraid of her, but I was. The fear was irrational, sinking into me like a slow-acting poison. My throat tightened, my breath shallow as I stood there frozen.

"Are you okay?" I forced myself to ask, though my voice sounded thin.

Annabella's face twisted, her lips tightening as her eyes narrowed. Then she took a step forward, almost predatory. "Are you going to see her?!"

Her voice struck me like a crack of thunder, and my stomach dropped. Did she mean Ivory? How could she know? "Who?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"That green witch Ivory!" she spat, her tone rising, but it wasn't just her voice—it was something deeper. Beneath her words was an almost guttural resonance, as though something else was speaking through her.

Panic surged through me. My pulse spiked, and suddenly every shadow in the room felt darker, every sound sharper. How did she know? I hadn't told her anything—hadn't mentioned Ivory, hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone.

The way she asked—so certain, so direct—left me rattled. My thoughts spun, desperately trying to make sense of her words, to catch up with the moment. I needed to say something, anything, but her accusation had pinned me in place.

I swallowed hard, forcing a laugh that came out thin and hollow. "What? No, I'm not—why would you think that?"

But she didn't believe me. I could see it in her eyes, the way they darkened.  "I saw it," she said, her voice cold now, detached. "I don't know if it was in my dreams or in my head, but I saw it. You and her. Together."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Annie, you kno—"

"I SAW IT!" she snapped, cutting me off, her voice suddenly dropping into a deeper one that rumbled through the air. The walls around us seemed to tremble with the force of her words, the floor beneath me vibrating faintly.

Then, her feet lifted off the ground, just slightly, but enough to send a jolt of terror through me. Her eyes glowed red and black, swirling with shadows that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat.

The fear—the creeping, suffocating fear—surged forward, consuming me whole. My chest tightened, my limbs felt weak and shaky, and I couldn't stop the tremor that ran through me. I felt small beneath her gaze.

I took an instinctive step back, trying to find some distance. My voice came out soft, trembling, almost pleading. "Annie... you're scaring me."

At my words, her eyes widened slightly, the dark glow flickering for just a moment.

The house seemed to still, the trembling walls and vibrating floor growing silent. Slowly, she lowered herself back to the ground, her feet touching the floor with an inaudible sound.

Her face crumpled as the rage was draining from her. Her voice softened, breaking under the weight of her guilt. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her tone fragile, almost childlike. "I didn't mean to... I didn't..."

But I couldn't stay. My heart was pounding too hard, the fear clawing at me like something alive. I needed to get out—now. My gaze darted toward the small drawer beside the entryway where I kept my keys. With shaky steps, I made my way over, my hand trembling as I yanked the drawer open and grabbed them.

Behind me, I heard Annabella's footsteps, soft but deliberate. Her voice followed, quieter now, almost pleading. "Ellion, don't go. I'm sorry. Please... don't leave me."

Her words sent a pang of guilt through my chest, but it wasn't enough to stop me. I bolted for the door, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps as I threw it open and stumbled outside.

The cool night air hit me like a slap to the face. For a moment, I stood there, gulping in the fresh air like I'd just surfaced from drowning. The overwhelming fear that had gripped me inside the house seemed to ease, lifting almost instantly.

It was her.

Her emotions. Her powers.

They bled into everything around her. I'd felt it before, but I'd never allowed myself to think it came directly from her. Now, there was no denying it. Her anger or grief, it twists the space around her, warping it until it became unbearable.

Annabella was dangerous.

I leaned against the side of my car, fumbling with the keys, my hands still trembling. I didn't dare look back at the house. My mind raced, but one thought rose above the others, I'd been avoiding this for too long. Annabella was getting worse. And I didn't know how to help her.

The fear of what she might become gnawed at me.

Finally, I managed to unlock the car and slip inside. The engine roared to life, and I pulled away from the house, my hands gripping the wheel tighter than they needed to. I tried to focus on the road, but my mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment over and over.

Streetlights flickered as they passed. The familiar roads soon led me toward Barrio Mezcla, the old neighborhood where The Sunspears had once been based.

At the end of a closed-off street, I found the old house. It was still there, tucked away like a forgotten memory. I stepped out of the car and took a moment to look around. Before, when we used this place, the old house had been the one thing that stood out amidst the decay. Now? Now it looked no different than the rest. Just another abandoned relic left to rot.

I walked up to the front door and slipped the key into the lock. But when I tried to turn it, it wouldn't budge.

Frowning, I leaned closer, jiggling the key. Still nothing. Frustration prickled at the edges of my nerves. I stepped back, scanning the dark windows for any sign of movement, any clue as to why the lock wouldn't turn.

Peeking through the nearest window, I squinted into the gloom, trying to make out the interior. Suddenly, an eye appeared on the other side of the glass, staring back at me.

I flinched as I stumbled back a step.

"Uh, sorry. I'm looking for—" I began.

"¡Vete pal carajo!" a man shouted, his voice rough and angry. He turned away from the window, and in the dim light, I caught a glimpse of more people sprawled across the floor, some sleeping, others curled up against the walls. The scene was all too familiar. Squatters.

I exhaled sharply, realization settling over me. Of course, Ivory wouldn't be here.

I turned back to my car but just as my hand reached for the door handle, a voice called out from behind me.

"Hey, stranger."

Time seemed to stand still. My chest tightened as I hesitated to turn. But slowly, I turned around anyway.

The first thing I noticed was her green hair, swaying gently in the cool night wind, its deep green color striking against the backdrop of a star-dotted black sky. The sight of her stopped me cold. Her hair had grown longer since the last time I'd seen her, they look like vines curling around her head. Her skin was as smooth and flawless as ever, her amber eyes gleaming in the dim light, framed by her thick brows that always gave her a sharp, commanding presence.

And that smile—soft, beautiful and gentle. It was the same smile that once made me believe in our mission, and yet now, it set my nerves on edge as she walked toward me.

Seeing her after all this time... it hit me in a way I wasn't prepared for. Deep down, I knew I'd missed her, no matter how much I hated to admit it. But that memory of the last time I saw her—the anger, the betrayal, the resentment—It's hard to let it go. Back then, her face had been twisted with guilt and sadness.

And now? Now she was smiling. So casual. So unbothered.

It was like the pain of what she'd done didn't even touch her, as if she could just stroll back into my life like nothing had happened. Why was I the only one still carrying it? Why did it feel like I was drowning in the chaos she'd left behind, while she could stand there, so at ease... so happy?

"Ellion," Ivory said brightly, her voice as light and cheerful as a spring morning. "I was surprised to hear that you wanted to meet."

I didn't smile back. Instead, I met her warmth with a sharp voice. "Lucía needs your help to teleport us into Richard Roses' Assembly. Can you do it?" I asked coldly.

Ivory's smile didn't waver, though her amber eyes narrowed slightly. She tilting her head as if considering my words. "Ah, yes. Lucía," she said, her tone almost teasing. "She only ever comes to me when she needs something, doesn't she? Convenient."

She let the word hang in the air for a moment before exhaling softly. "But fine. I'll cooperate."

I didn't dignify her passive-aggressive jab with a response. I didn't care about her complaints, I just wanted to get this over with. "Good," I said flatly. "That's all I needed to hear."

I turned sharply on my heel but before I could open my car door, her voice stopped me.

"Ellion," she said softly, her tone different now. Quieter. "You came here for a reason, didn't you? It wasn't just to pass on Lucía's message."

I froze but didn't turn around.

"I'm glad to see you," she continued, her voice warm yet tinged with something heavier. "I know it wasn't easy for you to do this."

Her words hit a nerve, but I refused to let her see it. I clenched my jaw, forcing my hand to rest on the car's door handle. My voice came out curt, clipped, as I threw the words over my shoulder. "I'm leaving, Ivory."

But then she asked the question that made the world tilt beneath me.

"How's Annabella?"

My grip on the door handle tightened instantly, my knuckles turning white. All I could think of was Annabella floating in the air, her eyes swirling with that dark, terrifying energy.

For a moment, I couldn't move. My body felt like it had turned to stone.

Finally, I managed to speak, though my voice cracked under the weight of it. "She's... not okay," I admitted, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My hand stayed frozen on the door handle, trembling slightly. "She's getting worse, and I don't know how to help her."

Ivory didn't respond immediately. Instead, she stepped closer and with a familiar gesture, she extended her hand toward me, the same way she used to back when we would teleport to other places together. "Let's go somewhere else to talk," she said gently, her voice calm but deliberate. "There's a place I want to show you."

I stared at her hand. "Go with you?" I replied, my tone laced with skepticism. "What makes you think I'd trust you to teleport me anywhere?"

She tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "So, you'd rather go back home to a haunted house? Or stay with the drug addicts squatting in the old Sunspears' base? Your options aren't exactly luxurious, Ellion." Her voice took on a teasing edge. "And if I did want to teleport you somewhere deadly, you wouldn't even see it coming."

I glared at her, but I couldn't deny the truth in her words. I hated admitting it to myself, but I didn't want to go back. Not tonight.

Without a word, I reached out and grabbed her wrist instead of her hand. The smirk on her face faltered slightly, replaced by a flicker of curiosity. Her eyes met mine, questioning, but she didn't say anything.

A second later, the familiar sensation of teleportation enveloped me. I had forgotten how it felt—like plunging into icy water and emerging again in the blink of an eye, the world shifting around me in an instant.

When the disorientation faded, the first thing I noticed was the air. It was cool, crisp, and carried the earthy scent of damp soil and leaves. The sounds followed—a chorus of insects chirping, the distant calls of birds, and the steady rush of a river nearby.

I glanced around, taking in our surroundings. We were in the middle of a dense forest, the moonlight filtering through the canopy above, casting silvery patches of light on the ground. The trees stood tall and their gnarled roots twisting out of the earth like something alive.

But my eyes were drawn to the strange structure in the clearing ahead. It was a squat, rectangular metal container, compact and industrial-looking. In front of it was a small setup—two worn chairs and the charred remnants of a bonfire, the ashes glinting faintly under the stars.

"This is beautiful," I admitted, though my gaze lingered on the metal container. "Well, except for the giant tin can plopped in the middle of it all."

Ivory laughed lightly, the sound soft and unguarded, as if she hadn't laughed in a long time. "It's one of the mobile containers the USC brought to Teyó when they were secretly taking samples from the forest," she explained. "Remember the protest with Lucía?"

"Yeah, I remember," I said, the memory surfacing like a ripple. "You... took one to live in?"

"It has its own water cistern and runs on solar power," she said with a shrug, her tone casual. "When the USC abandoned the area, they left behind a lot of things they thought were destroyed. But I salvaged this, fixed it up, and set up camp here. I couldn't stay in the city anymore. Too much noise, too many regrets... so this is where I went."

The forest around us was alive with movement and sound, the unique wildlife and plants of Teyó reminded me of the battles we'd fought here.

"Come, sit," Ivory said suddenly, breaking the silence. She lowered herself into one of the plastic chairs. She tapped the other chair, motioning for me to join her.

I hesitated for a second before stepping forward and sitting down.

"I want to talk to you about Annabella," she said softly.

Ivory began to speak, her voice steady but low. "You know Annie's powers are tied to her emotions. But you might not realize just how deep it goes. I've been watching her for a long time, Ellion. I've seen things about her powers that you may not know."

"When I was fourteen, I was fighting in Macerio's revolution. In one of those fights, we marched through a small town, protesting whatever it was at the time. And there she was—a little girl, standing in the middle of it all, watching us with these huge brown eyes that seemed far too big for her skinny frame."

Ivory's gaze grew distant as she recounted the memory. "She had torn clothes, dirt smudged all over her face, but somehow, she was smiling. It wasn't a happy kind of smile—it was something else. Behind her were her parents, even skinnier than her, yelling at her, strung out on something. They looked hollow, like ghosts of people who used to be alive."

Her voice grew quieter, almost hesitant. "I didn't feel much at the time—I'd seen scenes like that everywhere we went. But when Macerio used his shouting power, I thought, if he can use his powers for something good, maybe I should too. That's when it hit me—this overwhelming sense of obligation to help. And for some reason, that little girl stayed in my mind. Her parents weren't going to help her. They couldn't. So, I decided I would."

She paused, her expression tightening as though she were carefully choosing her next words. "In a blink, I teleported behind her, placed my hand on her head, and teleported back before anyone even noticed."

I frowned. I knew all too well how she'd done the same with The Sunspears—giving Clemons Cells without anyone's knowledge. "That's when you gave her the Clemons Cells, right?" I said seriously, my tone heavier now. "When she was only a kid."

Ivory nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "A touch is all it takes for me to give someone Clemons Cells—if they don't already have them. At the time, I told myself I was giving her a fighting chance. That it was the right thing to do. Her parents weren't going to give her that chance, so why shouldn't I?" Her voice faltered for the first time. "I'm not justifying what I did... I just..."

I could see it in her eyes before she even finished the sentence: regret. Deep, unshakable regret. She didn't need to say it; it was written all over her face.

"You don't have to explain it to me," I said softly, trying to ease the weight of her confession. "It happened. We move on."

Ivory gave me a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Then, she continued.

"After I gave her the Clemons Cells, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I kept wondering what kind of power might surface. So, I started watching her from a distance whenever I could. At first, everything seemed fine—better than fine, actually. Her parents, who had been completely strung out, suddenly seemed... happy. Motivated. They were laughing, playing with her, acting like a real family despite their circumstances."

She paused, a faraway look in her eyes. "I didn't understand it at first. It was like something in them had shifted. They were still living in poverty, still struggling, but for a while, it was as if none of that mattered. They were alive."

Ivory's tone grew quieter, "I didn't see them for a while after that. I figured maybe they'd moved on. But then, one day, I went looking for her again and found her playing with some kids at a park. She looked... different. Better. Her hair was tidy, her clothes were clean—nothing fancy, but they fit her well, like someone had taken the time to care for her. And her smile..." She shook her head, a faint bitterness in her voice. "It was so wide, so bright, I actually felt... proud. For a moment, I thought I'd done something good, something that actually mattered."

She leaned forward slightly. "But that day was the first time I saw what she really had inside. I saw the truth about her powers. The kids were playing, chasing each other, laughing. Then a ball hit Annie on the head, knocking her down. She started crying—like any normal child would. But something strange happened. All the other kids around her started crying too."

Her voice grew sharper.  "Then they got angry, desperate, blaming each other for what had happened. They screamed at one another, tears streaming down their faces, like Annie's emotions had seeped into them, taken hold of their minds and hearts."

"And then, when she saw the blood on her forehead, she screamed. This piercing, bone-deep screech of pure fear that made the entire park shook. The trees swayed and the ground trembled beneath my feet. But the kids didn't even notice her anymore. They didn't notice the shaking. They just got more aggressive. Hurting each other. Screaming. It was like they were consumed by her fear and rage, feeding off it, unable to stop themselves."

"I was about to step in—I couldn't just watch it happen—but then I saw her mom. She came running, scooping Annie up into her arms and holding her tight. And just like that, everything stopped. The moment Annie felt her mom's presence, she calmed down, and the chaos around her faded. The kids stopped fighting, their faces going blank with confusion, like they had no idea what had just happened."

Ivory paused, her eyes flickering with something that looked like guilt. "I followed them back to their new home. It wasn't much—a small, rundown house halfway up an uphill road. The kind of place no one would look twice at. But it had a roof, and they were together. I thought maybe they'd finally found some peace."

Her voice turned heavy, "But I was wrong. I kept watching, and I started to understand how Annie's powers worked. It wasn't just people she affected. It was everything. The plants around her seemed to thrive when she was happy, their leaves greener, their flowers brighter. Birds and animals would gather near her, almost like they were drawn to her energy. But when she was upset... the opposite would happen. Plants would wither and the atmosphere around got darker."

"At first, her parents seemed proud. They thought it was a miracle, a blessing. They worked harder, spent more time with her. But then... they started noticing the shifts, the subtle ways the environment changed depending on Annie's moods. The way animals would flee when she cried, the way the house felt colder, darker when she was upset."

"And that's when the fear set in. They started locking her up whenever things got too wild. But that only made it worse. Her emotions spiraled out of control, and as she got older, her powers grew stronger. Her dad turned to drinking and her mom went back to pills."

Ivory's gaze grew distant, her voice softening. "An alcoholic. A drug addict. And a little girl with powers no one understood. It was bound to end in disaster."

"One night, it was raining harder than I'd seen in years. I couldn't see much, and it was getting late, so I decided to leave and check on her the next day. But when I came back..." She faltered, her voice catching slightly. "The house was gone. Completely destroyed, like an earthquake had hit, but only there. The rubble was scattered everywhere, but there were no bodies. No blood. No sign of anyone."

Ivory turned back to me, her eyes glinting with something unspoken. "I searched the whole town, desperate to find her. And then, finally... I saw her."

Her voice softened, almost breaking. "She was holding your hand, Ellion. Calling you her brother."

The memory of that night is scarred in my mind forever. The night I was born.

I never thought Annabella had such a troubling childhood. All I've ever known is us being together—me protecting her, doing whatever it takes to keep her safe. That was my purpose. I remember the police came after the house was destroyed. They didn't seem surprised, not really. The house looked like it could collapse any moment and they said they knew our parents and it wouldn't surprised them that they left us during the commotion.

It made sense, in a way. The town we lived in was a passing place, a pit stop where people came and went without staying long. Everyone was always moving on, leaving behind nothing but memories of transience. The town itself was hollow, restless, and no one cared enough to notice things that didn't directly involve them. There was nothing there—but no peace either. That's why, after earning enough money, I moved to a better place with Annabella.

Because my life has always been about protecting her. Being her big brother, because it was programmed into my head.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of those memories pressing against my chest. "Every time you talk, Ivory, things seem to get worse than they already are," I said bitterly, unable to keep the frustration from creeping into my tone. "You're like a plague that follows you everywhere you go."

She flinched slightly, her face falling at my words. But I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down, to remember Lucía's words.

If it weren't for everything that happened, I wouldn't even be here. And as much as I hated it, I couldn't imagine not being here now.

"But I know what I have to do," I said, my voice softening as the anger melted away. "I just have to be there for her. Emotionally. I'm not good at it, but I'll figure it out—for Annie."

Ivory lifted her head slightly, "I think you're already perfect for that," she said suddenly. "Since she's been with you, there haven't been any outbursts or... anything like that. You two were happy." She paused before saying, "Until I stepped in."

Her gaze turned back to me, her amber eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry, Ellion." she whispered, her voice cracking.

The words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond. I hadn't expected to hear her apologize—truly apologize. But she didn't need to say anything more, well, truth is, I didn't want to talk or hear about it anymore.

"Thanks," I said quietly. I turned my gaze upward to the sky. The stars shined so bright here, it felt peaceful looking at them. "There's a certain beauty in life's chaos, isn't there?"

Ivory smiled faintly, her expression softening. "Funny you mention that," she said gently. "We are sitting where Nicholas fought Max. Everything Max torched—the trees, the animals, the ground itself—it all came back stronger. Even the scorched earth will cradle seeds, root itself in the ashes and bloom again."

I let my eyes wander across the vibrant forest around us, taking in the wild beauty of it all. She was right. The life here seemed to have returned tenfold, trees growing tall, wildflowers blooming in bursts of color, animals moving freely through the underbrush. The air itself felt alive, humming with energy.

I leaned back into the seat, letting the serenity of the moment wash over me. "Can I stay a little while before going home?" I asked quietly.

"You can stay as long as you want," she replied softly.