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She turned her back to the group and picked up the knife she had dropped, while simultaneously reflecting on the recent events. The mud pit was much deeper than usual. She had a bone to pick with this area's guardian. This should never have happened, but for somebody's negligence. It should have been filled in, or at least covered. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?" "Far, far away...From you!" She snapped. The hunter who had recognized her tried to stop Justin. "Maybe we should let her go." A pixie sitting in a tree shrugged and spoke for the first time. "A good riddance." Silvia held her knife up, admiring it's extremely sharp blade. "You wouldn't happen to be the special guardian around here, would you?" She asked in the most innocent of voices. "I am." The foolish pixie actually sounded smug, like she didn't know an insult when she heard one. Silvia sounded like she was in the presence of a celebrity. "I've heard about your beauty, but you are beyond description. What's your name?" "Norma," She smiled. Silvia smiled to, but in such a way that sent chills down the spine. "Guess what, Norma? I'm going to report you unfit for duty." The pixie blinked. "What?" Silvia turned and continued walking away. "Wha- come back here!" Silvia ignored her, totally unsympathetic to her situation. Now Silvia just had to anonymously report a Norma of area 264 irresponsible, unhelpful, and disrespectful. That should keep her in a position where her carelessness would do less harm. She was aware of what they were probably thinking about her. They either thought she hated people, or...Yeah, they probably thought she was a ***ch. She was past caring. She used to, but her philosophy and life motto was "tough love". Her mission for the past couple of years had been making people shape up. The most effective technique so far had been reverse psychology. Mockery, sarcasm, spite- nobody liked to be on the receiving end of it, and would usually try to fix whatever she threw in their face. Especially if there were witnesses. She began to quietly sing.
(0:40) What doesn't kill you makes you stronger (&)
Stand a little taller
Doesn't mean I'm lonely when I'm alone
What doesn't kill you makes a fire
Put that thing on lighter*
Doesn't mean I'm over because you're gone...

*'lighter' refers to Butane, a highly flammable, colorless, easily liquefied gas used in lighters. Just in case it gets lost in the translation.

Another young man (lots of traffic for that part of the woods) was walking past and caught most of the dialog. He was about her age. But, before I continue I should fill in some blanks. Silvia was slim and had long, straight black hair and wore a green cloak, boots with moderate heels, and a belt. Her knife and whistle hung on it opposite a small pouch, which held some first aid and a bottle of water. And an MP3 player with earbuds. A long shirt and leggings finished her look. The hunters had t-shirts, jeans or cargo pants, boots, and various personal customizations. Justin was a big man with definite authority, and the only one to wear a broadsword. They carried hiking packs (bedrolls and all) as well as their weapon of choice. The pixie wore a light pink dress, made of a substance very much like silk, with matching slippers. I guess if you fly around all the time, you can afford to float in a cloud of flimsy fabric. The newcomer's name was Jason, and his hair was black. He wore boots, normal pants and shirt, and a trench coat- all black. His eyes were strikingly bright green. He carried nothing but a sword at his side. He had a suspicion that not all was as it seemed. He decided to jump in. "So, your name is Silvia, is it?" She had retrieved her belongings at this point. She just looked at him like 'what do you want?' "Actually it's not. Why do you care?" He wondered how she would respond to a taste of her own medicine. He was curious. "Oh, I don't. I just wondered how someone with a face like yours could get such a pretty name. It didn't match." "You're a fine one to talk, Mr. I'm-so cool-I-don't-even-need-to-introduce-myself-because I'm-oh-so-charming. Well, you're not very charming, and you can get by on charm for about 15 minutes. After that you better know something." She is good. She is VERY good. Most girls tripped all over themselves trying to get him interested, so he knew they found him handsome and attractive. She didn't even acknowledge his looks, yet found something to mock without missing a beat. But why?

"And besides," she continued, "I don't remember inviting you to talk, but I do recall that I was leaving." She turned on her heel and marched back towards the stream. Who did that guy think he was, butting in where he wasn't invited? He must have been arrogant, assuming she would fall head over heels for him, or just really stupid. Honestly, she was not impressed. By the average tittering girl's standards, he was probably considered 'drop dead gorgeous'. Pathetic. He had a shallow look about him, and considering the first words out of his mouth was likely an overbearing blockhead. And girls found him attractive? It defied imagination. 'Oh, what a cool sword! I couldn't lift it of the ground. You must be very strong.' Silvia shuddered. Then she looked back to deliver a parting shot. "I guess I should be thanking you all." "For what?" The pixie snapped. "For reminding me why I left."

That was it. That was supposed to be her last word, to leave them with a cryptic one-liner for them to mull over. But the featherbrained pixie just couldn't leave it alone. "Did you just insult me?" she shrilled. Silvia wasn't even going to dignify that with an answer.

* * * *
Jason smothered a laugh. He could see her seething, probably entertaining thoughts of stringing Norma upside down in a tree, hands bound and gagged. Then he saw a shadow with wings. "Take cover!!" He shouted. Avery lunged for Maria, scooping her up and shielding her with his body. Justin barked an order, "Defense pattern 6!" and the hunters dove for cover in a circular pattern amongst the trees. "Weapons at the ready! Move on my order!"

* * * *

Silvia didn't really believe that there was immediate danger at first, thinking that he just wanted to scare her, or see her jump. A few seconds later she regretted not moving faster. Maria's brother was just standing there, open-mouthed, staring into a huge dragon's fiery, raging eyes. Dragons were not sentient creatures, but they were cunning. And they were extremely vicious when hunting, or dealing with trespassers. The hunters (and Jason) didn't see him until they were already hidden, and that was too far. Silvia threw a fairly pointed stick at it's face, where the softer scales were. She could swear it winced. Then it shoved what it perceived to be harmless, the boy, aside with it's tail. It was an experience somewhat akin to having a tree swept at you. Then it leaped over Silvia's head, intending to attack from behind. It dragged it's tail along the ground. She tried to dodge it, but unfortunately for her, it's tail caught her and smashed her to the forest floor. Her head hit the ground, and stars exploded in her red tinged vision for an instant, then everything went black.

"Are you alright?" She blinked. "Uh, yeah. I just...felt kind of sick. I'm okay now. I think. Cyrus? What were you saying before?" An old man with silver hair smiled at her. Smiled to her, like he'd done so a hundred times, and it wasn't awkward. It felt nice. Like she was special. She had a friend. So everything she remembered was just a nightmare. He spoke to her. "Ah, yes. You were asking for me to tell you about the aliens." "Yes!" "I don't know. Your mother doesn't like me telling you stories..." "Pleeeease...?" She adopted the most pitiful look that would melt a heart of stone. "Oh...Alright. I suppose one more telling won't hurt. Besides, you're the only one who listens to them anyway." "Oh, thank you, Cyrus!" "Now let's see...Once upon a time, there was a psychopath. Humanity was going to destroy itself with the push of a button, because a psychopath had decided we had caused everything around us (including us) to suffer unnecessarily, and that we needed to start from scratch. Nobody thought he was a bad person, even those who were his friends. He proclaimed that the era of peace was at hand, and successfully obtained the signatures of the world leaders for a peace treaty. Now, I know this seems like a small feat to you, but believe me, if someone walked into the middle of a city and announced that nuclear formulas would become international public property, he'd have been put in a padded room wearing a straitjacket. Every language you hear once belonged to a separate country. Little did anyone know, he planned to obtain the formulas and strategically drop them over the entire planet- are you sure your mother doesn't have a problem with this?" "Cyrus! I'm 14! Don't treat me like I'm 6." "I know, I know. Now where was I? Ah, yes. Just one push of a button from a post- apocalyptic world. A scientist had gotten wise to the situation, and was helpless to stop it. He was a genius in the lab, on paper, with machines, in theories of time and space. However, he possessed almost every quirk know to man, and a few more. Fear of public speaking, germs, enclosed areas, crowds, heights, bugs, milk-" "Milk?" "Yes, milk. The only thing he could think of to save us all was to launch his machine. It was some kind of an alternate reality machine. He thought he could send the inhabitants of this planet to another reality. Now, some aliens had been observing us for hundreds of years, selecting what they thought to be the best of our society and storing it. They also studied our history, psychology, philosophy, literature, agriculture, technology, and simulated the best combinations for a world they thought possible. One that would work, a harmonized existence with ourselves that we wouldn't tear to pieces. They abducted some humans occasionally to test the accuracy. Those that were not compatible were returned to the beds from which they were taken, (and the program adjusted) and upon waking assumed their experience to be a dream. Some that believed it to be real were few, and dismissed as mentally unstable. Once the well- intentioned scientist had melded our reality with a fantasy land, they initiated their plan. They transferred us to a space outpost and put into a mass cryogenic sleep. The animals went to another and the plants yet another. Then they fixed our world as much as they could, then created the city bubbles." "The what?" "Well, that's what they look like, don't they? The transparent domes of photosynthetic energy provide power and serve as a shield against the forces of nature, and protect nature from us. Cities stay in the huge bubbles, and are not overrun by animals or vegetation." "Silvia!' A faint voice tried to reach her, but this was so interesting... "She...not...going...make it." "Keep trying..." "Is your mother calling you?" "I...I don't think so." "Silv...can...hear me?"

"Are you sure?" Cyrus had that worried look on his face. She tried to ignore the interruptions. "Yeah. Um...yeah. You were saying?" Oh, yes. After they created the bubbles, they recreated the animal's habitats and replanted the all the plants. Then they released the animals in their respective homes." A butterfly landed on his arm. "Oh, I almost forgot about you. They also chose two of every type of bug they thought necessary for pollination, aerating the soil, and for our mutual enjoyment. And some predatory species, like spiders, to prevent the insects from overrunning the planet. That was one of the first things they learned from their simulations." "Silvia! Come back!" "Losing...she...not coming back..." "Then what?" "Then- I really think you're mother wants you to-" "Come on, Cyrus! We never finish the story." "I've already told you all the interesting parts, and the rest is history." She waited. "All right, fine. "Then they decided that the best way to manage us was to monitor us. They divided the woods between the bubbles into sections, or areas. Then they numbered them and placed posts around each. The posts have touch pads to scan your fingerprint. You are required to touch any post you come across. You see, when someone wants to know where you were some particular night when you are a suspect for a crime, they don't have to take anyone's word for it. They find out what posts you touched and when. Then they factor in the time spent getting from one to another. Or when someone accuses you of some dastardly deed and claim to have seen you do it, you can say that you were elsewhere and the records will vouch for you." "I may be 14, but even I can see the loopholes in that." "How so?" "Unless you are always moving from one post to another, you're going to have time unaccounted for. If they looked at your records and found a gap in time, they could easily frame you." "Yes. You see, most people don't think of these things because they happen rarely. If you're caught abusing the system, you are shipped off to the simulation they still have running permanently. And without the technology they allowed us to keep. Anyway, you belong in one sector unless you have a traveler's pass. Your personal information includes where you were born, where you live and/or when you obtained a wanderer/traveler's pass, a hunting pass, a graduation degree, what weapons you are licensed to carry, your name, your name change if you decide to change it, and the records of past 100 posts you touched." "That's a lot." "Silvia!" "Yes, it is, isn't it?" "I think we got her!" The voices were getting louder, and Cyrus was getting fainter. She couldn't speak. It was getting darker. No! She tried to scream. I want to stay! Cyrus, don't leave me! CYRUS! His voice was now just a soothing murmur, and everything from the field they were in faded to black. "NO! Not again! Then he was gone. She was alone. Come back! CYRUS!!"

"No, please! Stop it!" This wasn't happening. It couldn't. She felt like she was floating in a black liquid, and she was rushing to the surface like a released basketball underwater. She broke the surface with a gasp. "She's breathing!" "Try to stabilize her!" "I need a shot of sedative, before she goes into shock!" Where was she? A hospital? What happened? She forced her eyes to open. Yep, this was a hospital. Doctors in masks and rubber gloves crowded around her. Monitors on the wall measured her heartbeats. She felt needles in her arm. An IV? What were they putting in her bloodstream? She tried to sit up. "What are you doing?" she slurred. Dammit. She still couldn't speak. One doctor tried to push her back down. "Lie still. We almost lost you in limbo, but you're going to be just fine." She shot him a ferocious glare. She managed to speak coherently the second time. "Just fine? Just fine?! Why did you do this to me?! Why did you bring me back to this hellhole?! I was happy! My only friend is dead, my family disowned me, everyone misunderstands me, and I HATE THIS PLACE!" "Somebody get me that sedative, before she hurts herself!" Hurts herself. What a great idea! She ripped the intravenous therapy needles out of her arm and kicked the doctor away. She tried to throw their own equipment at them, but she was very weak and couldn't even pick anything up. Her hands refused to grasp anything properly. Another needle was stabbed into her, her limbs numbed and her joints locked up. "Leave me alone! Just...leave me..." And there was darkness again.

When she woke a second time, all was quiet. The needles were still in her arm, and both her arms were strapped down. Sunlight drifted through a window, casting glare over the humming monitors quietly beeping in symphony with her heartbeats. "Well, well. Welcome back to the land of the living." What was that guy doing here? "I hear you gave the medical staff here a run for their money. First you almost died, then your mind nearly receded from reality, then you almost slipped into a coma, and when they finally got you back you tried to kill yourself." She replied almost without thinking, like a reflex. "Can you blame me? The hospital bill is going to be ginormous. It'll take me the rest of my life to pay it off." She paused as a lightning bolt of pain shot through her head. "Can you unstrap my arm, please?
If I'm going to be in this much pain, I think I should be able to try and relieve some pressure with my hands. What was your name?" "Jason. Sure, let me get that for you. They didn't want a repeat performance when you woke up. Do you want a painkiller?" He leaned forward, as if to get up. "No, thanks. I'll live."
She smiled ruefully. "So, they didn't want any repeat performances. I can imagine.
I wasn't in complete control then. Thanks. So, what happened? Dragon hits me, then who took him down?" Jason was quiet. "Come on, give me the play-by-play." Silence. Her expression darkened. "Tell me how we kicked his butt." ..."We didn't." "WHAT?"
The heart monitor's beeping sped up. Jason glanced at it quickly. "Calm down."
"Calm down? That scum almost killed me!" "And you're not the only one. Granted, none brushed quite so close to death, but still. And I was not unscathed myself."
He gestured to the crutches beside him. Oops. She hadn't noticed those. "Sorry." He shrugged. "At least I can move around." She ran her fingers though her hair.
It was dirty, oily, and tangled. "Eww. I bet I look terrible." Jason grinned. "Scale of one to ten, how bad do you think you look?" "How bad do you think I look?" "I'll give you a mirror, and you can see how far off the mark you are." "Umm...eight?"
He reached into a drawer and pulled a mirror out. "Mirror, mirror, in the hand; Who looks the worst in the land?" "Give me that!" He gave it, smirking. She moaned.
She was slightly less white than chalk, her hair was a mess, she had bags the size of spoons under her eyes (which were red and bloodshot), and she was practically skin and bones. In a word, skeletal. "That is no less than a 9 1/2. Wait, strike that- 9 3/4." She muttered. "Forget the scale, I look like death itself."

Jason nodded. "Yes, you do." She lowered the mirror. "What?" "Don't you know that a normal girl would slap you in the face, or burst into tears if you said that to them? Seriously. It explains why you don't have a girlfriend." "You don't have a problem with it. I think you're exaggerating. And how do you know I don't have a girlfriend?" "Easy. You're talking to me, a girl, when nobody has given you an obligation to do so. I'd be a threat to your nonexistent girl. You're talking to me, like I'm one of the guys and not madly scrambling for something to talk about besides the weather. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm incredibly abnormal compared to 'normal' girls." "Okay, if I'm as socially inept as you say I am, describe a 'normal' girl to me, for future reference." He was testing her. "What not to do to a girl is a far easier thing to learn. Never tell her she's being irrational. Never admit it if she looks anything less than fabulous, and if she asks, lie. Girls often feel like they don't look quite right, and they need you to tell them that they are beautiful to you, even if it looks like someone attacked their hair with a weed whacker. Leave the small talk to her, and you will learn more about her. If she has no problem about telling you personal secrets others entrusted to her, never trust her. Also, you have less chance of saying the wrong thing if you're not saying anything. When she complains, she doesn't want you to provide a solution. She wants you to listen. Never, ever even look a pretty girl that is not the one you're going out with." He looked at her in disbelief. "What? If you don't want to know this stuff, fine, but you asked." Jason folded his arms across his chest. "If you know so much about people, as you obviously do, why do you force them to instantly hate you? And don't insult me by lying to my face. It's definitely intentional."

He's smarter than he looks. "Allow me to add one more thing. If you want to be friends with ANYONE, become good friends before you begin asking questions that they don't want to answer. To tell you the reason without lying would require going down a road I've shown only one person on this planet." Luckily, a doctor came in before he could persist. "Well, it's nice to see you in you senses again. How do you feel?" "I'll live. Can I go now?" He looked shocked. "Absolutely not! You need to finish recovering here, where we can help you if necessary. You're not out of the woods yet." She shrugged and sank back into her pillow. "Can't blame a girl for trying. What is today's date, and how long do I have to stay?" "Uh, let me see," He consulted his clipboard. "Admitted at 5:43 on Monday, July 28, and today is...August 3. We're not sure how long it'll take you to finish healing." She nodded, then closed her eyes. As she expected, the doctor steered Jason out of the room to let her sleep. Once they were gone, she sat up and dangled her legs over the edge of the bed. Then she carefully tried to put some weight on them. A little shaky, but not bad. She took a step, then grabbed for the chair Jason had left to keep herself from hitting the floor. She missed, but nobody heard. She dragged herself back into the bed. Pain she could handle. Dizziness, with a little effort. Weakness? Doubtful, but possible. Lack of depth perception? Odds of 1 in 20, at least. Disorientation was the final factor, and with that symptom she'd never get within six feet of the exit.