The first of anything is not typically forgotten. Ronnie could remember the first time she saw her own claws peeking through the tips of her fingers and the day her mother was buried on the smoking remains of her family home. It was her first funeral. She remembers the day her life began with Hazel and the rest of her family. She remembers the first fumbling kiss she shared with Lorna in a smash of noses and apologies. And now, as she watched gleaming steel clash loudly with iron and claw, she knew she would not forget this either- the first time she saw supernaturals attack the White Guard.

The attackers wore black cloaks with hoods pulled up over their heads and masks up over their noses to rest beneath their eyes- green, gold and black. Witch, shifter and vampire. There was something white stitched on the back of each attacking hood, but it wasn’t something familiar. Ronnie thought it almost looked like a drop of water with flowing, intricate lines. The guardsmen tried to keep themselves between the hooded attackers and the two young humans, but they were outnumbered. For now.

The Hall, the headquarters of the White Guard, wasn’t that far away. Soon, the hoods would be forced to flee or be arrested. Or worse. Knowing Sloan and what he’d just done to Valerie, he’d have them executed on the spot, another example to squash down any other attempts of strength in the Edge.

One of the hoods, a small, petite woman, threw something small at Sloan and the others. It hit the ground and burst in a cloud of thick white smoke. The woman moved her fingers like she were strumming an instrument, orchestrating the billows of smoke around the guardsmen like a conductor. Ronnie imagined veins of bright magic glowing beneath the woman’s black gloved hands.

Lorna tugged on Ronnie’s arm. “We shouldn’t be here. This is dangerous!”

Ronnie could hear her words but they were jumbled in a tornado of other sounds. She tried to focus, but so much was happening. The odor of smoke burned her nostrils and made her eyes water. The reverberating noise of screaming, panic, and metal on metal was almost disorienting. Her senses felt like they were spiraling out of her grasp.

Lorna wrapped her arms around Ronnie and squeezed against her. Ronnie, who stood a few inches taller, buried her nose in Lorna’s red hair. The familiar scent, honey and spring flowers, eased into her like a warm sun breaking through a thundering storm. There was a struggle at first, like her body was telling her that it needed more than sweet flowers, that Lorna’s scent was the right one, but eventually, like always, her senses calmed and she breathed in deeply.

Lorna withdrew and pulled on Ronnie’s hand. “Let’s go.”

Before they could leave, a shrill scream pierced the air. Ronnie looked back to the fight. Had someone been killed? It didn’t look like it. No one had stopped fighting and there were no bodies on the ground.

“Look!” Lorna pointed to the two humans by the wall.

One of the hoods had managed to get past the wall of guardsmen and was wrestling the boy down one of the alleys. The girl was tugging on the boy’s arm, but she was no match for the strength of a supernatural. A guardsman noticed and attempted to help, sword drawn, but another hooded assailant stopped him before he could follow.

Ronnie hesitated for a moment. She had no reason to help a human. She could leave with Lorna right now before things got worse. She felt the Purity badge heavy in her pocket. Humans were dangerous.

But this human had stood up for Valerie. He’d told Sloan to stop torturing her, and Sloan had listened. Something has to change, Lorna had said. We need to help each other.

Someone has to change.

Ronnie turned to Lorna, who could read it in her expression before she even opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t, Ronnie. It’s too dangerous.”

“He needs help.”

“And we need to go! This is dangerous. My sister’s Seer has probably already turned red and she’s scared out of her wits now!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to help him.” Ronnie darted for the alley. “Wait here!” she shouted over her shoulder.

“Ronnie!”

One of the guardsmen saw her coming and pointed his sword at her. He drew it back, ready to strike and took a step towards her, but his legs suddenly slid to the side and he went down in an awkward tumble. Ronnie looked back. Lorna had her hand pressed to the ground. White magic pulsed through the stone. She smiled and gave Ronnie a small wave with her other hand.

Ronnie returned the smile and hurried into the fight. The girl had been pulled away and pushed behind more guardsmen. She looked terrified and Ronnie felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Up close, it was clear that she was much younger than Ronnie had thought. Poor kid.

Ronnie skirted the busy guardsmen and ducked down the alley. It was a tight squeeze, but it opened up into a little garden that was still being lovingly tended by the old witch who lived in the building. The black hood’s back was to Ronnie. The human was on his knees. They hadn’t noticed her.

“Please,” the human was begging, “let me go. I didn’t do anything!”

“That you exist is crime enough.” The voice that answered was deep and graveled, as if the speaker had a collection of rocks in his throat.

Even over the smoke and sweat of the fight raging just feet behind her, Ronnie could smell the fear pouring from the boy. It soured the air like a carcass left to rot. The hood reached back and up into his cloak. Ronnie watched as he pulled out a curved dagger, the blade glinting in the sunlight. The human’s eyes grew wide when he saw it.

Ronnie didn’t give him a chance to use it. She ran forward and slammed her body into the hood, sending him crashing to the ground. The human scrambled back away from them, kicking up little puffs of dust. The man’s hood had fallen back and he flinched as sunlight hit his grey skin.

A vampire.

His black eyes nearly vanished under the shadow of his hood as he pulled it back up. “Stay out of this, shifter. I’m doing you a favor.”

“By killing him?”

The vampire glared at the human. “He deserves nothing else.” He spat out his words as if they left a rotten taste in his mouth.

The vampire moved in a flash of black cloth. Vampires were once the fastest supernaturals alive. Not anymore.

Ronnie caught the vampire and flung him against the wall near the mouth of the alley. No supernatural could match a shifter’s strength. Not before magic had been sealed away and especially not after. The vampire hit the wall with a crack, as if his bones were made of glass, brittle from a lifetime of malnourishment.

The vampire climbed back to his feet, snarling and ready to advance on her but he stopped when a new sound filled the air. Somewhere, a horn was blowing and someone was shouting reinforcements. Ronnie could make out the stampeding sound of a dozen boots on the ground.

The vampire pinned her with a glare and raised his dagger, pointing it at her. “This isn’t over, mongrel.”

Before Ronnie could respond with an insult of her own, the vampire disappeared back out onto the street. A wheezing gasp brought the human back to her attention. He was standing against a wall, bracing himself with one hand while the other raked though his sweaty blond hair. His white clothes were torn and filthy, and beneath the smudges of brown, Ronnie could make out spots of red, though his injuries didn’t look too severe. He turned his eyes to her. They weren’t cold ice like Sloan’s, but instead, were like pieces of the sky. They were kind, Ronnie had to admit, though unsettling. The only blue eyes wandering around in the Edge belonged to the White Guard, and they only looked at her with disdain. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing this gentleness in them.

Then, the human did something she didn’t expect- he smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She didn’t return his smile, too taken aback. “You’re welcome,” she said abruptly. “Are you dying?”

“Um,” he looked down at himself. “I don’t think so?”

“Then you’ll be okay. The guardsmen will come get you.” She strode past him. She might be able to get out onto the street without being seen if she goes through one of the old buildings-

“Wait!”

Ronnie stopped and turned around. The human winced as he pushed himself away from the wall and followed after her. She shook her head at him, “You can’t come with me.”

He huffed out a breathy laugh of humor and pain. “No, I just want your name.” He leaned forward suddenly, studying her face. “And I know you. I saw you on the street earlier. I waved to you but you didn’t wave back.”

“You want to know my name?” Uncertainty coiled in her gut. It was best that no human ever had her name, no matter how nice he seemed. It was an unspoken rule of the Edge. It helped keep people invisible to the White Guard.

“Yes,” he waited, looking at her expectantly. When she didn’t speak, he cleared his throat. “Maybe I should go first. My name is Sebastian.” He nodded at her, gesturing for her to pick up where he left off.

She bit her lip. He looked so genuine. She sniffed at him lightly, an action that caused him to take a step back, a slim brow arching.

“Sorry, do I smell?” He asked.

She ignored him, scenting the air. There was no tang of deception. All she could smell was dirt, sweat and something sweet. Almost like a pastry. It was actually kind of nice.

Sebastian was patting at his clothes, brushing the dirt off and apologizing. “You don’t stink,” Ronnie cut him off. “You smell like pastries.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “Really?”

He was nice enough, but he still wasn’t getting her name. She shouldn’t even still be standing there. “I need to go now. Before I get caught with you.”

Ronnie heard the heavy footfalls seconds before a guardsman came down the alley.

“I found him! Back here!”

Ronnie took several steps away from Sebastian. She looked around behind her. There was an exit just past a small plot of twisting herbs.

“Sir, are you injured?” A deeper voice asked, smooth as polished glass.

Ronnie’s skin crawled at those words, at that voice. Sloan walked into the garden with a measured calm, as if there hadn’t just been a fight moments before. The white-blonde hair had been smoothed back, as if the battle had done nothing to disturb it. His uniform was a portrait of red splatter against white and Ronnie hoped it didn’t belong to anyone she knew.

He turned to face her and recognition flitted across his stony features. “You.” The word was little more than a hiss of air between clenched teeth. It was the only sort of emotion he expressed, as his face remained cold and empty. Ronnie remembered Sloan’s eyes watching her earlier as the parade passed by and it had been nowhere near as frightening as it was now. Now, he was within distance to actually hurt her.

“Wait,” Sebastian spoke up, his hands raised in front of Sloan like shields. “She saved my life. She stopped that vampire from killing me.”

“So that she could kill you herself.” Sloan pushed Sebastian behind him and withdrew his sword.

“Don’t hurt her!” Sebastian exclaimed, grabbing Sloan’s sleeve.

“At your request, I will spare her life,” Sloan said, his eyes never leaving Ronnie. “She will spend her days in the Cavern, where not even the sun will touch her skin.”

Sebastian made a sound of protest, but before Sloan could take a step toward her, the ground began to tremble. A great crack split between them, opening like a gaping maw, and the flowerbeds toppled in like water cascading over a fall. Loose bricks slid into the depths, only to rise back up as part of a wall. It ascended from the depths like a great beast, spilling dirt, stone and ruined flowers across the garden. It wobbled unsteadily with weak magic and looked like the slightest touch would send it crumbling, but it divided the garden completely. As Sloan and the others disappeared from sight, Ronnie let out a sigh of relief.

“Ronnie!” A voice hissed from behind her. It was Lorna. “Let’s go, this isn’t going to hold for long.”

Lorna kneeled at the other exit, between two buildings sitting close together. They would be able to squeeze through, but Sloan and the White Guard would have a tougher time. Ronnie hurried over to Lorna. Both of her hands were deep in the ground, almost up to her elbows. White magic laced between the bricks and stones as if it were traveling through a maze.

“Get ready to run,” she said.

Ronnie stood behind her, a hand braced on her shoulder, ready to pull her to her feet. “Okay.”

Lorna yanked her hands up from the ground, sending a wave of dirt through the air. The magic faded immediately and the wall crumbled. It broke apart, falling away in chunks, with no magic to keep it standing. Ronnie didn’t want to stick around to watch it fall. She pulled Lorna to her feet and they took off down the street, disappearing into the early evening crowd. For a brief moment, she thought she heard someone calling her name, but she ignored it, gripping Lorna’s hand tighter.

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