She laid in her bed, twisting the shell of her necklace between her fingers. Dreamimg up everything impossible and unreal. The persistent buzz of her phone ringing under her ear as she waited. And waited. Then the buzz ceased and the call went through. She snapped forward and placed the phone against her ear, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Harran?" Zemlya said.

His voice was quiet. His tone empty. But it was Harran. "My Lady?"

The princess threw her feet over the edge of her bed and stood. Paced the room. "Are you busy?"

"Not at the moment." But he sounded tired and drained.

Her smile slowly fell away and worry replaced her joy. "Have you been well?"

Silence followed on the other end. Zemlya hated that he wasn't here. That she didn't know how he was. "I've been alright. And you?"

She sat on her bed and thumped her fingers against her knee. "I'm..." Her voice trailed into oblivion. Hesitance stifled her tongue. But Harran of all people would've understood. "I haven't been out since he left—"

"My Lady, can you do me a favor?"

If he'd asked her to steal the moon she knew she couldn't say no. "Hmm?"

"Don't ever go outside until it's safe again."

And that was the one thing she couldn't promise. "Harran, are you mad at me?"

Something alike metal and wires being stretched sounded in the absence of his voice. "No," he breathed. "Never."

She fell against her bed and curled up with the phone pressed against her ear. All she heard on the other end was Harran's breaths, slow and deep, steady and assuring. And all that would be heard from the other end was silence because she'd been practicing breathing, existing, without making a sound. But Harran would hear her, because Harran always did.

"I'm scared," she let out.

"I know."

"I don't feel safe."

"I know you don't."

"I wish you were here."

"I know you do."

"You have to be safe Harran. Promise me you'll be safe."

"I promise."

She imagined they were little again, lying on hospital beds beside each other, separated by a curtain as they listened to each other tell tales only children could conjor. And on days when the surgeries and drugs overwhelmed their little bodies just listening to the other breathe was enough assurance they needed to know that the other was alright.

"I'll come around tomorrow," he said.

"Maybe you shouldn't."

"Don't worry."

"How could I not?"

"Be strong, My Lady, you have to be."

~~~

But Zemlya didn't sleep that day. She hardly slept most days. Because everytime she did, she felt time slip through her fingers and every second lost was another second closer to the uncertainty of Dhulka's future.

And so in her waking moments she reminisced the last time she slept peacefully, a month ago, in the upper folds, on the cold earth floor beside a boy from the surface.

A knock severed her thoughts and brought her back to her room.

"Zem?"

"Grandma?"

"Why are still awake?" The door fell open and footsteps approached.

"Can't sleep." Arms coiled around her back and tugged her close. A kiss on her forehead. Zemlya felt like a little girl again, when just her grandma's voice brought a smile to her face.

"I'm sorry Grandma."

"I told you, you don't have to apologize."

But Zemlya was guilty. For so much more than a lie. Maybe's swirled in her mind like a hurricane. Maybe she should never have gone to the surface. Maybe she should've told someone about Lua. Maybe she should've turned him in sooner. Maybe, maybe, maybe then things would be different. But it wouldn't have changed a thing.

"You did the right thing." Her grandmother stroked her back. "I'm glad it was you who found him and not someone else."

"Aren't you scared grandma?"

Whispered. Almost lost to the deafening silence. "Of course."

Zemlya felt safe. There was nowhere else she felt safer than in her grandmother's arms. Which made it harder to let go. Harder to accept their absence.

"Baby, won't you do me a favor?"

She bristled under the suddenness of her words. Harran had said these exact words. Why now, why not tomorrow? Did they not believe that tomorrow would come? She nodded, but she didn't want to listen.

"Go see your dad tomorrow." Her tone was hesitant. Fear fraught. "Hug him. Tell him you love him. And tell him you're sorry."

Zemlya shifted so that her grandmother's hands fell away. An itching irking feeling crept up her skin. "Why?" She didn't hear herself over the wordless anger that claimed her being. "Why would I? What would I apologize for?"

"Baby." Placating. Desperate. Why now? Why so urgent to forgive? "Baby, please. I don't want you to hold this loathing in your heart. Don't let it grow any worse than it already has."

"I've accepted the things his done, the things he didn't do. I know I did nothing wrong so if there's anyone that should apologize it should be him." Her voice rose and her throat closed, twisted and tightened. "To me and to you. Because I never should have been your responsibility."

A sob. Tears. Grandma was crying. Grandma never cried. Grandma was tough and hard and she never cried. Not since that day.

Zemlya had come home one day from the hospital and asked her grandmother, if it would have been better if she had died instead. Grandma broke down crying. Told her she'd never wished that. Told Zemlya she was her treasure, her gem stones and gold. Never.

"You never know when you could lose a loved one." Grandma folded her fingers around Zemlya's. "Before it's too late. Before this anger consumes you and poisons your heart."

"What would it change?" Tears, frustration and every bit of resentment let go. "What would it mean to him?"

"He's still your father. It would mean everything to him."

"Alright." But every fibre in her being resisted. "I'll do it." For grandma. No one else.

~~~

A hollow white castle set in the centre of the kingdom. Home to the royal family. Garner of praises and envy. The embodiment of Dhulka's pride, big and bloated and filled with empty spaces.

Within its tallest spire, a princess sat staring past the glass dome to the lilac sky beyond. She reached for the rays of the warm morning sun as if to grasp it, steal it and store it away in her pockets.

Perhaps she shouldn't have been so fond of something so dangerous. But what isn't? Surely not a thing.

"Your Highness," she met the gaze of her guard. A big bulky man with a voice as deep as Dhulka, Jared. "Your Grandparents have arrived."

She leapt to her feet, a smile dawning her round face as she bounded past Jared and into an elevator.

"Hold on princess." Jared stepped in before the doors slid shut. He mirrored her glee. She was infectious like that.

She took one last look at the sky before the elevator receded into the palace walls.

"Jared don't you ever wonder what lies beyond?" She had stars in her eyes. She always did, even when there were no stars in sight.

"I admire your curiosity, your highness."

She bounced on the soles of her feet. Everyone liked to say she was curious and bright and peculiar. Perhaps they shouldn't have. Maybe then she would have kept her head low.

She saw her grandparents before the elevator stopped. Grandma and Grandpa were her two favorite people in all of Dhulka. In the whole world.

They had their arms open before she was within five feet. She loved the warmth of grandma's arms. And how grandpa would throw her up in the air to catch her. Grandpa always caught her, she never once doubted it.

"You ready baby?" Grandpa placed her on his shoulders.

"Always!" She giggled and planted a kiss on her grandpa's cheek.

The memory of that day was bittersweet. Albeit faded the feelings remained. Excitement. Joy. Thrill. And then everything fell apart.

They found themselves in the Southern Quarter at midday after a round of Dhulka's parks. The Petunia district was almost empty, many of the residents  asleep at this time of day. But the few that lingered rushed to get home. She remembered being on her grandpa's shoulders, staring at the big burning mass billions of miles away.

She heard it before she saw the cracks. She should've looked away. She should never have looked up. But she never knew it to be anything but beautiful.

Then the ceiling came crashing. And the sky fell with. At once flames caught her in it's grip until she couldn't feel a thing. Grandpa fell and the last she heard was screams, piercing, desperate and deathly screams. She wasn't sure if she had been screaming too. But the one voice she could distinguish from the choir of cries was her grandmother's.

And then she closed her eyes to nothingness and when she woke nothingness was all she could see.

~~~

"Sometimes I wish I were never born, did you know that Dad?" But the words never left her lips. "Sometimes I wish I had died that day instead, did you ever wonder if I would think that way, Dad?"

She said none of that. Instead those words reverberating through her skin and stayed glued to her. Don't cause trouble, she always told herself. It isn't worth it. But all those questions bubbled and fumed. Grandma was right, it was poison. Suffocating her from the inside out.

"Dad, I have something to tell you." She hadn't called him Dad in so long, the word felt almost foreign on her tongue. Then she froze. Because she didn't know where to begin. I hate you, perhaps, I hate what you did or what you never did. But her throat closed and her voice failed her.

"Is there something else you didn't tell me?" He might as well had been on the edge of his seat. Desperate. Despaired. "You have to tell me everything Zemlya. No more lies, please."

He took her aback. She gripped her knees to keep herself from screaming. "I've told you all I know. All he told me. Why don't you believe me? Why don't you trust me?"

"Zemlya, you have to understand—"

"Why would you?" She scoffed. "You don't know me. I may have your blood flowing through my veins but we might as well be strangers. I don't know why I still hold on, when you don't care, you never did."

"Zemlya." His tone softened. Silence.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have disturbed you." She stood and turned away. It wasn't worth it. It would've meant nothing to him.

He never told her to wait. Never tried to stop her. Never got the chance to, because in the next moment the sound of a great crash, a sound she'd never forget, erupted through the air.