Obsidian Sky Read Free

themselves. The excitement would all end tomorrow though. Aidan had already seen it happen four times. The inevitable news of a scouting mission gone wrong, a new threat discovered lurking at their borders, another wish rumored to be used for the further decimation of Obsidian...it was only a matter of days before their ambitions were crushed like the berries they hovered laboriously over to make their morning coffee.
    “Yeah, we could leave this place,” Isaac said finally. “But if we do it now, we won’t have much to look forward to. What are you going to do out there? Use a wish to secure yourself a shelter? Fight over a body of fresh water? You’re better off here. No worries. All the water you can drink. The food you can eat. Shelter. Protection. Warmth.”
    “So you would rather live comfortably in a cell than see the world and be free?”
    “It feels like an easy choice to me. Let’s see…stay here until my wishes are used for the greater good, in which case I’m then kicked out and I’ll be seeing the world anyways…or, leave now and die. Hmmm.”
    “I survived out there once. We can do it.”
    “Ha,” Isaac retorted. “From what I’ve heard about you, your definition of ‘survived’ is very different from mine.”
    “Well, there’s definitely no way we’ll make it if we don’t have our Yen as backup. It doesn’t make sense to travel once the Elders have already used you and you have no way to defend yourself.”
    “From what I hear, they equip you quite well before they kick you out the door. And there’s rumors of sister villages being created nearby. Why does it always have to be mud with you? Can’t it be rich soil sometimes?”
    “Why do I even bother talking to you?” Aidan groaned, casting his eyes up to the moon. “Nothing is ever solved. I might as well be talking to myself in the mirror.”
    “Oh, no. This is much better,” Isaac chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “After all, your reflection doesn’t talk back. Right? I mean, it doesn’t, right?”
    “Get off of me,” Aidan growled, throwing his shoulder back violently. “Your hands are so soft, I find them offensive.”
    “As I find your hair,” Isaac muttered, throwing his hands into his pockets. “But you don’t hear me trying to shank your feelings.” He sucked his teeth and thrust his hands back out into the air. The village clothes were notorious for their roomy, dark blue pants that were strangely designed with pockets barely able to contain a pebble. All were expected to wear a bright yellow, long sleeve shirt and then the worst of all – the child-sized backpacks. Little fanny packs that you kept on your back, held together by a belt across the chest. It was hilariously cruel, but that was the local weaver for you. Until someone else decided to either learn the craft or wish to become a master textile worker, they were all at the mercy of Luca Lorde.
    Of course, Aidan never wore the standard issued clothing, opting to don the thick, hooded robe and cloak his father had given to him on the day he graduated secondary school. It was drenched in black and littered with sharp strokes of hot red across its surface, as if they were cuts into his skin. No other symbols or patterns were emblazoned upon it otherwise, and Aidan saw no reason to decorate it further. He already had enough markings.
    “So where are we going now?” Isaac asked, rubbing his hands through his messy blonde hair. From the steadily rising tide of voices far behind them, they could tell that the presentation was now over, and soon they would both be overtaken with an assortment of disgusted, shocked and respectful glares. 
    “Bed,” Aidan declared. Isaac rolled his eyes. Aidan’s hibernation schedule was directly correlated with the amount of villagers who were awake. The more there were, the less he tended to be around. If it hadn’t been for Isaac’s insistence, Aidan wouldn’t have even gone to the schoolhouse. In hindsight,