Boxed In: Part 10

This wasn’t what I pictured, Jasmine thought as she opened her eyes to destruction.

Screams rang in her ears. Blood and limbs scattered across the street. A few lone survivors cowered in and out of the alleys. The gray sky blanketed the city of Dublin.

Jasmine turned around to see the Soldier limping onto the sidewalk. She propped herself against a building that was half blown off.

“Well,” grunted Jordan. “Guess I was wrong. Where’s the Ref?”

“Right here,” Shane shouted from a rooftop above. “What the hell, Scribe?”

Despite the dismal view surrounding them, Jordan couldn’t help but laugh at the displacement.

“Sorry,” Jasmine said weakly. She closed her eyes and wrote the word “Down.”

Shane instantly materialized on the street before them. He looked around the street and frowned.

“Thanks. The city didn’t look much better from up there,” he said.

In the gruesome lonely air came a subtle sweet melody. The quiet sound of strings broke the ravaging moment of misery, casting an enchantment upon their ears.

A violinist danced down the remains of O’Connell Bridge, not seeming to care about the water breaking through the cracks. A purple velvet cloak draped over her shoulders, exposing her pale naked arms. The three stared, mesmerized by the magic she produced.

“There’s one,” Shane said. “A For-seer.”

“Wow,” Jasmine whispered. “Her music is so beautiful.”

A moment later, the Musician stopped playing and sighed.

“Thanks,” she said with a soft Irish accent. “But I’ve lost it.”

“Lost what?” Jasmine asked.

The Musician hopped onto a ledge and glanced behind her.

“My power,” she replied.

Without skipping a beat, she continued to play. Jasmine looked at Jordan who raised an eyebrow in annoyance.

“What do you mean?” Jasmine shouted over the music, following her as she crossed over the bridge.

“You know what I mean,” said the Musician eyeing Jasmine’s pen and paper.

“How?” Jasmine asked, stumbling on the broken bridge. “When?”

The Musician led them down the path along the River Liffey which had floating planks of wood and piles of brick stacked above the water.

Jordan and Shane both power-walked behind them. They walked past homes still fuming from the attack.

“We just missed them,” Shane said to Jordan in relief. “The Waiting must be sweeping through the continent. Where do you think they’re going to hit next?”

Jordan looked at him silently with worried, tired and hungry eyes.

“We’re safe here for the time being,” she replied. “But the commander knows where we are. He knows everything.”

“Perfect,” he said sarcastically. “Not to be rude or anything, but weren’t you just trying to kill the Scribe? How can I be sure you won’t kill her, or me, in our sleep?”

Jasmine glanced behind her, giving them a look that said ‘I can hear you.’

Jordan sighed and ignored the glare. This was the first time the Soldier felt like a criminal, a monster, and a failure all at once.


to be continued..


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