Running through the forest and jumping over various twigs had made Blue feel euphoric and free again. This feeling of joy... he'd almost forgotten about it entirely. There were so many things that Hemlock made Blue — and all Victims — forget about themselves. But Blue... he'd do anything to find himself again. To feel what he truely does, think freely, and not abide to Hemlock's totalitarian rules
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By now Blue was deep into the forest, finally noticing how the atmosphere was more bearable with trees cooling the forest floor. But when they stopped to catch their breath, and scout out for a hideout from where he stood, he couldn't help but notice the silence of the forest. It led to him reminiscing on the sounds of a busy morning in a forest, before Hemlock came along and turned the south into a living hell.
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There were no loud noises from bugs of any kind, nor any sound of the frogs croaking around him... just pure silence. It was incredibly off putting. Blue believed this was due to most animals being unable to live with the harsh conditions of global warming. Meanwhile, humans were part of the few who've kept a large population.
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Yet every day felt like his last.
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The pain his body faced, constant stress, and unstable weather... he'd consider it a miracle for consistent, nice weather to occur. But Blue knew from experience that none of his prayers would be answered here in Hemlock. Nor could time be wasted in Hemlock, so Blue focused back in on finding a hideout.
6Please respect copyright.PENANA8u4F4fSQJQ
As they furthered deeper into the Highlands, Blue began to notice an odd shift in the empty forest's atmosphere. But they shook off that crawling sensation from their back, having laid eyes upon a hideout-esque spot now. It was a boarded up, shanty wooden shack well covered by trees, hills, and other nature found throughout the Highlands of Hemlock. Although something was... different; Blue had a strange feeling that something unbelievably preposterous is up ahead.
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Yet Blue deemed his thought ridiculous— that the nice atmosphere was getting into his head, that they're imagining things. Now the boy gazed at the entryway, unsure how to enter. Then Blue noticed a spot he could slide through without interfering with the boarded entrance. The shack didn't have an actual door, but he could fix that later.
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After squeezing through the boards, Blue examined the run down room's perimeters. There were cob webs everywhere and old furniture on the verge of collapsing into pieces; ain't nothing he can't fix up. Blue was immediately intrigued to explore the place further so he hurried around room to room, searching to and fro each one. Albeit there were very few in the small shack, just the usual found in a single person home.
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Blue soon reached the last room, coming to find a bedroom: a canopy bed large enough for two or more, a bedside table, and a desk. Each and every furniture inside this house were clearly antique... and covered in branches with leaves, along with dirt and dust.
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It was quite clear how grand of a mess the house was in, but Blue was too tired to clean it all. So they instead opted into sitting at the desk, tiredly laying their head down on it. This went on for a minute or so before he felt a tingling breeze coming from the window in front of him. The boy shivered and jolted up from it, then pushing the flowing curtains to where he could look out the bedroom window... only to see an old looking tree. Its droopy leaves moved slightly with the near nonexistent breeze outside, although it managed to calm down some of Blue's everlasting nerves. But he could tell something about this tree was off — like it was different from the other trees.
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And he wanted to investigate more; hence him pushing up the window and climbing out of it carefully, being met with an even nicer temperature. Getting a better look at the tree, it was in fact a big oak... possibly one that'd been there for centuries. As they sat down against the tree trunk, the boy suddenly became in the mood to journal once again. It felt like forever since he'd gotten the chance to do another entry.
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And it feels like he should start writing again, more than ever.
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The last time Blue journaled was about 5 months after Hemlocks took power over the South. They were caught by one of the Infiltrator's who came to do the daily room inspection, in which he accidentally left his journal in plain sight. Upon its discovery, the boy was forced to watch as the four entries he'd poured his anger and tears into were destroyed in mere seconds. And due to his beliefs, they had put him in a padded cell where they physically abused him for a prolonged period of time.
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He couldn't remember how long his stay there was, only that it was a painful experience for Blue. He did gain permanent scars from what they did to him, even threatened by the Deceivers that they won't hesitate to have worse done to him. That if he were to ever do or think anything in the nature of his entries again then they'd torture Blue more than the first time... or worse– kill him.
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And Blue didn't want to keep hold of those bad thoughts of his, yet they reminded him that he can just journal them all away instead. If so, it'd be their fifth one... if the four of the recent past even count anymore, since they're long gone. But the remembrance of them must live on, at least that's what Blue strived to do; acknowledging that he wrote those entries with all his emotions poured into them. Blue then returned to present time, grabbing a pencil out of his satchel along with his journal... and so the boy began to write their fifth entry.
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Journal entry 5
After five months I can finally write in here again. It felt like forever that I've been blocked from this outlet of mine, no—this power of mine. But what's more important as of now is that today... I ran away, and I've found a hideout in a wonderful spot. There's this tree outside this shack which I've found to enjoy sitting underneath. And another thing, there's a girl I saw on the train... her red hair was beautiful. And I swear she's the one; the one to join me in setting fires against the government in hopes of destroying it. I could just feel it, when I saw her standing out in that crowd of bland citizens, that she's different.
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I don't know why exactly I feel this — minus her hair — but I gotta stay cool about it...
—Blue
After they finished the entry, Blue read over it to make sure he's content with it. And so they were, now lying on his back that's against the the grass. The tired boy stared up at the treetop above him, his journal to the side of him as it laid open upon the grass.
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Blue sighed, speaking to the tree above as if it would have the ability to hear him. He knew that would obviously not be possible, but he was already crazy enough to run away. So they might as well just tell his worries out loud.
"I don't know where to start... and I'm guessing you don't know either. Shit, am I even going in the right direction? I'm just one person against a whole nation... and even if I find that girl, then get her on my side– something could go horribly wrong."
The tree didn't seem to respond to Blue, only its leaves moving with the wind ever so slightly.
"Dammit, why am I talking to a tree..."
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Blue pushed himself off the ground, sitting in a fetal position now. His body was towards the tree as he made a muffled groan into his legs. Not even ten seconds into his prolonged grumbles of internal sorrow had he heard the sound of a bird. It was chirping somewhere above him before flying away, the boy missing his chance to see it.
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They'd halt their moping as he looked up, seeing no bird expect a blue feather slowly falling. When it eventually reached arms length with Blue, they caught it. Yet this feather only created more questions that Blue would ponder about. He tried seeing where the bird could be, but alas... there were none in sight, if there even was one in the first place.
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Although Blue caught the sound of something, someone– whispering to him.
"You can bring light back to the South, and save Hemlock—"
He frantically looked around from where he sat to find who it was, but yet again... nothing. Just an echoey, deep voice of some sort coming from some where right above him.
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Blue was petrified upon hearing the voice, feeling his choice of running away made him truely go insane. But they broke out of it, interrupting this voice– still seeing no one around; having again looked at, around, and behind the tree he'd sat under.
"W-what... who- who said that?!"
The boy spoke with a tone that further solidified the underlying deteriorating of his mental state, unsure if someone was actually speaking to them... orif it'sjust his mind playing tricks on him.
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It seemed as if he had an ignorance for what the voice was implying quite clearly, yet that was false. Hidden under this dilemma of his, on whether this voice was real instead of his internal thoughts, was hope. Hope that what this voice said would come true as Blue aspired to change Hemlock— this world for the greater good.
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Then it spoke again, indirectly confirming to Blue who the owner of the voice is.
"Keep the feathers which fall from me with each writing, each demur against Hemlock. Take your knife and carve your name into my bark with all the rage inside of you. That is when you'll be granted the power I can give."
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Blue was trying his best to process this, to follow along only for this moment to still seem so unreal.
"How can I believe that you're not just baiting me— whatever you are?!"
The boy said quickly, scared by the voice— yet to pick up on whose it is as he frantically looked around again.
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"Continue being defiant through writing, and I'll keep my words. In this gray city, come to me– your safe haven, and I'll lend you more of the wisdom held within my old roots.
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Finally they connected the dots– calming himself just enough to control his gaze on the owner of the voice, a tree. Somehow it spoke, but he didn't have the mentality nor energy to figure out why.
"...I was already gonna do that myself– but sure, um... tree?"
They didn't know how else to reply, too disconcerted to speak any further. Although that changed relativity quick; there was one last thing he wanted to ask the tree.
"W-wait– what about that girl I saw on the train?? Can you... tell me about her?"
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The Tree was silent, as if it was thinking, before whispering once again.
"A raven hidden in red, locked away from her true self– a consequence from the scars that endless war creates. Anger fuels her like the red of her feathers which flame from her head, yet she is caged away by harsh rules that, if broken, will kill her."
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Blue replied quieter than before and with a remorseful tone.
"Oh... wow. Well, um... is there a chance at all that I could get her to join me?"
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"There is someone willing to join you under those ready to be preened feathers, you just have to help preen those which are hard to reach herself. Show her all the love you have for her, heal her scars like you've begun to do with yours, and you will find that girl."
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Having this valuable information, and a goal to achieve, thoroughly enlightened Blue; he felt this risky path they're going down may actually serve a purpose. One where he helps that girl escape the grasps of Hemlock, like he has, but also the south as a whole.
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Before he spoke any more, Blue stood up and took his knife out of his pocket. Then he flipped up the blade before beginning to carve his true name into the bark. They did this with extreme force; releasing all the pent up anger from inside of him... just like the Tree behested. This set in stone who he really is; not Subject 1116, but instead this true identity of his brought anew—Blue. And along with this carving came the possible freedom from Hemlock's dreary way of life that's been pushed onto every victim. But that was something they'd still have to work for. So he knew exactly where to head from here; find the girl, heal the scars deep inside of her soul, and by all means... show her the kind of love that Hemlock is severely against. Even the simplest kinds of love.
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Before heading off, Blue replied with a weary thanks for the insight it gave him. While doing so, he shut his knife and put it back in one of their jeans pocket.
"Thank you, Tree... I'm gonna find her,I will."6Please respect copyright.PENANAVxzpY5X23Z


