Page 54 of The Order: Rise of the New Empire

"That was not there before," I say, recalling the empty bottom of the pools the day all hell broke loose here. "How the hell did that get there?" I question, shaking my head in disbelief.

"The earth will find a way to undo its wrongs," Silas says, my focus snapping to him.

"What did you say?"

"Some of the others in confinement used to talk about the Prophet and the Apparatus," he sighs. "They always used to say, the earth would always find a way to undo its wrongs... These are the pools the Prophet came from, correct?" he questions, his mind brighter than what I have chosen to give him credit for.

"If you knew anything about the Prophet's origin, then you'd know there is no good way to kill him-"

"What if you were just given your good way?" the boy questions, running his hand over the material. "This was organically made. How often do you just stumble across steel strong enough to craft a blade? Seems like Mother Earth is begging you to undo her wrongs," he pushes, marveling at the material.

"You should stop listening to the stories of a bunch of delusional captives," I hiss, forcing my clothes back on.

"Then you won't mind if I toss it back in?" Silas questions, his own Hold urging the material back toward the waters.

Grabbing his wrist, I stop him from continuing his actions, watching the grin fade from his expression.

"I don't know what kind of fucking buddy buddy act you are trying to play with me here, kid, but, as far as I see it, I am your superior, a superior trying to keep you alive and help you hone in that cocky little attitude you get when using your abilities. I allowed you to come along today, don't give me a reason to show you why I have the runes," I hiss, all playfulness leaving the boy's body.

Staying silent, he lowers his hand, dryly swallowing nothing.

"Do you want help?" he questions after a few moments, his eyes glancing to the metal. "I can help you bring it back to the Underground."

Looking over this expression, I see the sincerity in his face, my foot viciously tapping the ground.

A discovery like this is something Xavier would love to know.

Anything linked to the Prophet is generally something I would tell him in a heartbeat.

Why the hell can I not shake the feeling that this discovery is better left with me?

Ignoring Sila's question, I force my Hold on the heavy metal, letting it drag along behind me, turning back toward the brush.

"You're not waiting for them?" he questions, my focus on anyone but those stuck in the Precipice.

"You said it yourself, kid, the earth provides gifts, it would be a shame to ignore her requests," I whisper, listening to the sound of his feet walking next to me.

"And what do you plan to do with it?" he questions, my gaze finally meeting his.

"The only thing I know how to do with it," I smile. "Looks like it's time to make a blade."

A blade strong enough to stopElyon.

A blade strong to stopForest.

Chapter sixteen

Forest

In New Haven, Untouchable's vile need to exploit the Unfortunates sexually was subject to only a few Unfortunate street workers, whoring their bodies away on the side of the street, allowing the Untouchables to use and berate them in any way they please.

Here, in the Precipice, the need for sexual release in the Unfortunate sector has been confined to brothel houses like this one, giving women a semi-safe place to alleviate the sexual needs of anyone who walks through the door.

Lucky for me, Marked linger in the establishment, giving me both a direct path to the rich blood, and a way to isolate myself from the grand display of power Elyon has loved to force onto me.

As much energy as it takes to force fear into the minds of those around me, my body struggles to keep up, forcing me to have to feed in the moments Elyon has allowed me to be out of eyesight. Showing him weakness is fatal, leaving little optionsother than promising to look into the more illegal operations in the Precipice.

Completely out of place, the distant sounds of sexual pleasure fill the air, a young woman, low in Marked blood, creeping her way closer to me, her eyes hazed, her body no doubt filled with some sort of endorphin to keep her in this dump.

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