The City of Ionia

Steam emitted from the pot while everyone scooped their fair share—chicken stew with mixed vegetables. I haven’t had stew in a while, so it was a nice change. Once everyone filled their bowls, they raised a spoon, commending my return. When that was over, they began chowing down as if they starved themselves.

“You barely touched your stew. Are you not gonna eat?”

I smiled at Jeremy. “I’ve been trying to get into the habit of eating slower.”

“Bullshit,” Harley interjected. “Says the one who’ll devour every dessert in sight.”

That comment made Ruby giggle.

“We made cake, especially for you. So don’t fill yourself,” said Ruby.

I swirled the spoon in the mud-colored stew before I scooped up as much meat and vegetables as it could handle. I opened wide and slowly dumped the food onto my tongue.

It was like this again—still nothing. Enjoyment was lost. Clinical and cold, the vegetables were soft, and a hint of saltiness was present, but they lacked the flavor I knew existed. It felt as though a barrier stood between me and the taste. I knew what it was supposed to taste, but the sensations didn’t exist.

No matter how much it stung or how nostalgic it was, I had to eat. If I made the problem obvious, it would lead to conflict. Avoiding that would be the best choice.

“It’s good,” I said.

“You want to say that louder? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Great, the fly is already buzzing again.”

“Who are you calling a fly? Huh?”

Harley rubbed her head, annoyed. “Can you not flex your arms at the table? I’m trying to eat without disgust.”

“Is this jealousy, I hear? Perhaps denial? Look, Jill, I bet you’ve forgotten these killer biceps.”

Harley responded on my behalf. “Oh ya? I also bet she forgot how uneven your biceps are. Why don’t you flex your left as well? Let’s see the balance.”

Jeremy quietly sat down and continued eating. He averted eye contact and wouldn’t even budge his head.

Ruby questioned my two-month journey. I told her the bare minimum of her questions, which weren’t specific in any way. I guess she just wanted the general outline. It’s not like I did much. I spent time alone with the thingy, attacking bandit bases and criminals far away from camp. The more I used it, the more powerful I felt—a feeling I wouldn’t trade—a refreshing sense of strength and hope, something I yearned for so long.

“Cake time!” Jeremy went to the backroom and plopped a circular cake in the middle. Blood-red strawberries were the heart, and white swirls were around the edge. Ruby sliced the cake into eight even pieces and handed it to all of us.

Even though I didn’t want any, I couldn’t refuse. When was the last time I declined dessert? It’ll be strange to do it now.

“Jeremy, I—Achoo!”

“Ahhh! Don’t sneeze on the cake, idiot! Great, now it’s a health hazard. My hard work fell in vain.”

“Sorry. This year’s allergies are really getting to—wait a minute—did you say ‘hard work?’ Citrus did the work.”

The two continued to throw insults at each other, and while they did, Ruby looked at me with a soft smile.

“You missed this, don’t you.”

I returned a half-smile. “Ya.”

“Remember to not get too attached. Your ambition runs far deeper than anything else. One day, you’ll leave everyone behind. It could be tomorrow, a week, a month, a year. You’ll leave, never to see them again. It’ll dig a wound deep into your heart, but no matter what, don’t get attached.”

The voice constantly reminded me of my goals. It buzzed in my head, telling me not to worry. Not to be scared. Accomplish my goal and be free. It gave me hope, laying out a potential future. Whenever I envisioned the future, I questioned if the sacrifices would be worth it. If leaving this life would be worth it.

Whenever mixed thoughts jumbled in my head, the thingy was always there, reminding me of my desire: to destroy the SCAR agent and enter the House with Answers. From there, I could find a way into Ionia and see if it’s possible to unite outsiders and Ionians.

We could all live together without hardship. Wouldn’t that be ideal? So beautiful? I might struggle, and I might make regrettable sacrifices, but that’s okay.

A life without struggle is a life with no substance. A life with no substance is a life with no beauty.

Dinner ended, and we went our separate ways. The tent hadn’t changed much. Harley’s jewelry was scattered around the table, unorganized. My sleeping bag was still there, untouched. Clothes weren’t lying around the place, which was the norm. She cared for clothes way too much.

“Blow the candle out.”

“Eh? You’re sleeping now?”

I didn’t say anything as I slipped into the sleeping bag. The pillow was softer than I remembered. It might’ve been just me.

She gave a defeated groan. “Fine.” The sharp, hissing zipper moved from one end to the other. She, too, also slipped in. “Today was refreshing, right Jill?” Her voice had plenty of energy.

“I guess.”

“You came home, I messed around with Jeremy—oh—-I got a new bracelet the other day. It’s silver with butterfly wings circling around. It matches well with the hairpin Jeremy got, remember?”

“Ya.”

“That was ages ago. Time moves without mercy.”

“...”

Harley kept shifting around. Nothing new, but it was more than usual.

“Jill?”

I acknowledged her.

“Why did you leave?”

It’s not like I could tell her the truth. If I were to be truthful, what would she say? Should I test it?

No. Terrible idea to stir the pot.

After a decent pause, I finally said, “To find myself.”

A weird answer, but it wasn’t entirely false. The voice connected to me—an extension of myself. Getting away allowed me to connect with it more. After all, it is a part of me, so the better the chemistry, the smoother the ride.

“That’s a cheesy answer.”

“I guess.”

“Were you successful?”

“I’m not sure.”

She rustled around, touching the edges of our bags. Whenever she moved, I not only heard it but also felt it. How did I previously sleep like this?

Laying on my back, all I wanted was to daze in a dream. The darkness was enough, but Harley’s voice was constant. It wouldn’t stop.

“Jill.”

“Ya.”

She paused, grabbing my shoulder. “Don’t ever leave again,” she said as if thorns poked inside her throat.

“You’re squeezing me.”

She pulled back, apologizing with a dim voice. Even with the silence, I could hardly hear her. A few crickets would have been enough to block her voice. This wasn’t the Harley I knew. It wasn’t the energetic, talkative, upbeat Harley I knew. The thingy definitely didn’t want me to be disturbed by this, but I couldn’t let this go. It wasn’t something I could ignore.

“I’m sorry, Harley.”

“You won’t leave, right?”

“I never had any intentions of staying. I joined the cult to strengthen myself. Once I reach a point where I’m satisfied, I’ll be gone. That fate is inevitable.”

Above me sat a shadowy outline. It couldn't possibly be anybody else. Curious, I sat up, using my arms as pillars.

“You once said you’ll come back for me. For us. I was relieved when you told me that. It gave me a sense of comfort. You were lively, engaged, and somewhat extroverted… maybe that’s not the correct word. You get the gist. It made it feel like the future you aimed at was all talk. But as time went on, you became distant. I wasn’t sure what the cause was, but I figured you’d come around. That never happened. You became unrecognizable, not in a good way.”

“...”

“What could it possibly be? Was it me, Jeremy, or someone else? I’m not a mind reader, but can I take a guess?”

“...”

“Are you afraid? Afraid our connections will grow unbreakable, so to ensure they won’t, you separated yourself? It’ll hurt you a lot, so you’re mentally preparing yourself. Is that correct?”

“...”

“I don’t know why or what’s changed in you, but I know the old Jill is somewhere in there. I won’t let your wild dream corrupt you. If you’re being selfish, it’s only fair if I am.”

She kneeled and hugged me. It was a loose hug, leaving plenty of room for air.

“If leaving is an inevitable fate, then every day I’ll beg God for one thing. Persistent strength and an unbreakable sword to shatter fate.”

My arms refused to move, unable to return the hug. Harley, you could try until your heart’s content, but I’m sorry. This fate is shatterproof. Not even God himself could shatter it. Nothing could bump me off this path. Not even you. In order to change fate, my body would have to stop breathing.

I constantly told myself this, and I made sure I reminded myself every day. So why? Why, today, out of all the days, was this happening? In the dark, embraced by someone so warm and comfortable, it almost felt nostalgic. Was that the reason for my watery eyes?