Image generated by AI.

Written August 2021

The One Who Protects

When our parents told us we were going camping, the four of us internally groaned. Spending a week in a wet tent, with wind wailing around us and sheep bleating in the early morning was not how we intended to spend our summer holidays. But like the good children we were, we placed a smile on our faces, packed our bags and were soon in our separate cars, driving thousands of miles into the middle of nowhere so we could ‘enjoy nature and get away from our phones’, as my mother so eloquently put it. 

After driving and stopping multiple times for toilets and snack breaks, we arrive in the middle of our designated field a few hours later. The sun had hidden behind a cloud as per usual, and out in the open, the wind had picked up. 

I don’t mean to scowl, but glancing around at the miserable scenery does nothing to lighten my mood. Josephine, or Jo as we call her, walks up to me from her family’s silver car, hands stuffed deep into her coat pockets. 

“Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?” she jokes, and I roll my eyes. 

“Oh, for sure. Have you set up your tent yet?” 

“No, not yet,” Jo turns back to see her dad unloading the trunk. “I ran away before I could get roped into helping.” I chuckle, and see a black SUV turn into the drive from the main road and park beside our cars. Our friend Carl steps out and practically runs to us, waving his arms in the air like a windmill. 

We wave back and walk towards him.

“I have never been this glad to see you two in my life,” he says when he reaches us, slumping dramatically over my shoulders. 

“Oh come on, Carl, it can’t have been that bad,” I chuckle, heaving him off. He shudders at his name and throws me a dirty look. 

“Please, no Carl, not today. I’ve had to deal with that the entire ride.” 

Ever since we were little, Carl never liked his name. Whenever we played as children, he was always the one telling us what to do and where to go, and the nickname Major stuck. His parents refuse to call him anything but his given name, but the rest of us have spent the last twelve years or so calling him Major. 

“Rick here yet?” Major asks, scanning the large field. I follow his eyesight, looking around the hills and flat expanses around us. My stomach fills with dread at having to spend the next few days holed up here. 

“No, but he shouldn’t be far behind you,” Jo says and cranes her neck to see the road, then says resolutely. “Well, come on then, we better help unpack.”

Major sighs dramatically and drags his feet back to his family, while Jo and I chuckle at him. Bossy as Major is, he never fails to entertain. We wave goodbye to each other, and I walk back to my car where my dad is pulling the big tent bag from the trunk.

“Give me a hand, here, Mary-Ann,” he grunts and I rush forwards to pick up half of the weight. Out of all my friends, I’m the only one who hasn’t changed my name, leaving it as the old-fashioned name my parents chose for me. 

Before long, our tent is set up, with no help of course from my little brother and when I look around me, I see that Major and Jo have also set up. We catch each other’s eyes and walk to the centre of our little circle. 

“Where’s Rick?” I ask, worried as to why he hadn’t arrived yet, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, the obnoxious horn of a truck sounds and we turn and wave to the bright and dusty red pickup truck rounding the corner.

The doors fling open, and from within pour a group of people, shouting loudly across to us all. Rick bounds over as soon as he spots us, his border collie dancing around his heels. 

“Finally,” I say by way of greeting. “What took you so long?”

Rick hugs us all in turn as he answers, “My dad wanted to stop about five times. I kept begging him to wait for the campsite, but no such luck. Sit, Hope,” he orders the hyper dog who had been jumping around our feet.

It takes a moment for the dog to calm down, but she soon sits by my feet, leaning her warm body against my leg. I lean down to pat her head and then straighten up. Major, Rick and Jo are deep in a conversation about one of the places we stopped, giving me a chance to observe them all from a day’s long journey. 

Jo is quite tall for a thirteen-year-old and has thick black hair cut to a bob. She’s Chinese and has a bright smile permanently stuck to her face. She’s wearing leggings and a large, black, puffy coat that’s zipped right to her chin which she snuggles into against the brutal wind.

Major and I could pass for siblings for how alike we look. We both have blond hair and blue eyes, though Major is adamant that they’re sea-green, despite that still being a shade of blue. The sides of his hair are cut quite short to his head, while the top has a mop of curls. He wears glasses and has long since picked up the habit of scrunching up his nose to push them up, often doing so without realising it. He’s about as tall as Jo, though claims to be taller, hating to be inferior to others.

Rick looks like he’s suffered the least on this journey. While the rest of us don the comfiest clothes we have, Rick arrives at the campsite in jeans and a smart shirt. No matter where we go, or what we do, Rick always dresses to the nines. We’ve come to expect nothing less. He is the tallest of us all and towers over both Major and Jo, his afro adding to his height. 

“So, what’s the plan for this week?” I ask, jumping into the brief silence between conversation topics.

“Well, I’m guessing that we’ll be getting breakfast in bed every day with lovely views from our five-star hotels,” Jo imagines, waving at our tents. “And then we’ll have horse-drawn carriage rides through the city and—”

“No, no, we’ll be doing nothing but relaxing between our Egyptian cotton sheets,” Major interrupts, immediately taking over the narrative.

“Be serious, guys.” I shiver against a gust of wind.

“Excuse you, Mary-Ann, I am very much serious.” Major glares at her. “How dare you assume that my far-fetched fantasies of spending my summer holidays in the most expensive places doing nothing is not serious.”

I roll my eyes and turn to Rick for help. He chuckles and lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping in a five-star hotel and riding in a carriage.”

“And sleeping between Egyptian cotton sheets.”

“Yes, Major, of course sleeping between Egyptian cotton sheets.”

“None of you even know what you’re talking about,” I roll my eyes again and squint towards my parents’ car, where my mum is frantically waving me over. “Come on, my mother wants us.”

We slowly walk over to her, where she is trying to hold my squirming little brother and wipe his hands of what looks (and smells) like animal dung. I scrunch my nose up but don’t say anything. 

“Mary-Ann and co.,” my mother pants, looking up at the four of us, “We’re going to build a fire pit in the middle of our little circle, so while the rest of us are unpacking, go make yourself useful and bring back some wood. There’s a forest just behind us, and between you, you should be able to bring back enough for tonight.”

We nod and walk off in the direction of the trees bordering the field. Hope runs ahead, stopping every now and then to see if we’re following her. In the shade of the forest, the weather becomes even colder and I let my scowl drop back into place as we meander through the soil, picking up branches and logs from the floor. We don’t walk for long, not wanting to get lost in an unfamiliar place, but just as we’re about to turn around and head back with our treasure, Rick raises his hand and points out to something a little further on. 

“What’s that?” he asks, heading straight towards it. Major and Jo quickly follow suit and I sigh, already exhausted. When we all catch up to our long-legged friend, we see him peering down at a moss-covered stone, spotty with age. 

“It looks like a grave of some sort,” I say with a quick glance at it. “We should head back before it gets too dark.”

“I don’t think it’s a grave,” Rick says. Everyone ignores me and squats down beside him. Rick drops the branches in his hands and leans forward to brush away the moss covering the stone. “There’s something written on here.”

“Probably a name and a death date,” I mumble, but curiosity pulls me towards the stone. I kneel down and simultaneously we all lean forward to try and read the ancient inscription on the stone. 

“I think that says Addersfield,” Rick mutters. “But I can’t make out what’s written beneath it.” He leans back and pulls his phone out of his pocket. 

“That’s an arrow there,” Major says, pointing to the symbol above the name. “And I think that’s the Roman numeral for the number two.” He traces the two straight lines at the bottom. 

“There’s no internet here,” Rick says exasperated and tucks his phone back into his pocket. “But all signs point to it being a town about two miles from here.”

“Good pun,” Jo winks at Rick who shakes his head at her. “I’m sure there’s a map somewhere back at the camp that would tell us if there’s a town called Addersfield near here.”

“We could head back and have a look,” I say, standing up straight. Rick looks up at me with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Why are you so eager to return back to the campsite? It’s not going to get dark for another few hours.”

“I don’t know, something just feels strange to me about this forest. I don’t like it.” I glance around the trees uncertainly, feeling as though the trees themselves had ears and were listening to our every word. Jo picks up on my discomfort and quickly stands to her feet beside me. 

“Mary-Ann’s right, we should probably head back. Don’t want to worry our parents.”

“Besides, we could just come back another day if we really want to walk up to Addersfield.” Rick and Major share a glance but stand up either way. Relieved to get away from the stone, and the eerily quiet forest, the four of us march back to our campsite where a fire is quickly built and lit. 

We spend the evening around its fiery warmth, watching the stars come out one by one and soon head to our tents and restricting sleeping bags. We all sleep soundly, though my dreams are filled with forests and hidden evils in their shadows. 

I wake with grey light filtering through my tent, and the sound of sheep bleating inthe distance. I quickly pull on a thick knitted jumper and rustle the tent as I struggle to get out of its depths, eventually stepping out into the bright morning. Jo and Rick are up already, chatting quietly as they eat breakfast in their collapsible seats. I squint against the offending sun and shiver. It is still early morning, and the air around me hasn’t warmed up yet. 

I shove my bare feet into my trainers walk over to my friends. They greet me cheerily and I run a hand through my hair, knowing it stands like a nest. 

“How’d you sleep?” Jo asks as I sit down beside her and pour a steaming cup of tea from the thermos at her feet. 

“Alright, I guess,” I say. “Though I kept dreaming about the forest from yesterday.”

“Me too,” Jo agrees. “I didn’t understand what you meant by it being strange but I couldn’t get it off my mind all night.”

Rick sips from his cup, glancing towards the line of trees on the horizon. “I don’t know about you, but I want to go back there.”

“Why? To see that stone again?” Jo raises an eyebrow.

“It’s ancient, most likely the town has crumbled to pieces and there’s nothing left of it.”

“All the more to go see it, no?” Rick asks. “Besides, it might be interesting to say we discovered a town.”

I shake my head, dreading to go back into the forest. Though I can’t deny it has some hold on me that I can’t shake, another part of me fears those trees and the path that leads to Addersfield, as though innately, it knew that wasn’t the place to be.

“Let’s see what Major has to say about it, then we can cast a vote,” Rick offers and resigned I agree, knowing that Rick was deadset on returning, and I wasn’t one to back out of a group adventure. Soon Major climbs out of his tent, glasses askew and walks barefoot over to us, plonking down onto the ground at our feet. 

Hope, Rick’s dog, immediately leaves her owner’s side and tries to steal a bite from Major’s hand, but with a glare from him, she settles for staring at each bite wistfully. 

“I think we should go see what that town is,” is the first thing Major says. The three of us share an amused glance, though my stomach slowly sinks. “It isn’t far, so we could walk there and back no trouble.”

“I don’t know, Major, there’s something off-putting about that forest, don’t you think?” I shrug, settling into my jumper. 

“Oh come on, Mary-Ann,” he says, pulling his eyebrows into a frown. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

His dismissive tone silences me and I sit quietly in my seat, staring out at the ominous trees. What dangers are they holding back, keeping us safe in this clearing? Stories of creatures that each children and beasts that roam the dark shadows flit through my mind, only deterring me from stepping another foot into its boundary. I’m happy to stay here in our clearing and go on the pre-arranged hikes our families have organised, rather than run off to who knows where to find an ancient town that can hold a plethora of dangers. 

With anxiety riding through my veins, I turn back to the conversation and see Major and Rick poring over a paper map of the area, from before sat nav’s were readily available. They point out to where we are, and the forest where we had walked yesterday. Then drawing out a two-mile radius from the campsite, they carefully read every line and name within it. No Addersfield. 

Major sits back with a huff. 

“See, I told you. We’ll be lucky if there are ruins there.”

“Then there’s no reason to not go.” Major stares at me, knowing that I was the only one who didn’t want to go. I stare back at him stubbornly. 

“There is something about that forest that doesn’t sit right with me,” I say, enunciating each word. I know that I’m repeating myself like a broken record, and even though I can’t place what is unsettling about it, I can’t sit back and let my friends walk into danger.

“Listen,” Jo says, turning to me with a comforting smile on her face. “It’s a forty-minute walk. Whether we find something or not doesn’t matter, at least we’ll get some exercise in.” I glance into her warm eyes, seeing excitement at going exploring. 

“How will we even know where to go if it’s not on the map?” I turn to Major. A triumphant smile lights up his face and I resist the urge to scowl at giving in so quickly. 

“Can’t be too difficult to find.”

I chew the inside of my cheek for a minute, thinking over the walk through the forest. A nagging feeling inside me begs me to run far and fast away, but seeing the excitement in my friends’ faces makes me sigh and I resign myself to our hike.

With brief cheers, we all finish breakfast and rush to get changed, telling our parents we were off for a walk. They don’t ask many questions, and before long, the four of us and Hope were walking towards the horizon again. I’d packed my bag with snacks and water and had sneakily borrowed the first aid kit from our car, not wanting to leave anything up to chance. 

As we step from the field and past the tree line, I turn to Major and say, “First sign of danger, we turn around.”

He rolls his eyes at my paranoia but nods, and we walk on the same path as last night to the ancient stone. I keep quiet as we walk, not in the mood to partake in the conversations Jo, Major and Rick were having, though having Hope beside me was a comfort. She must have sensed my unease as the dog walked calmly beside me, her tail hitting my leg every now and then. 

Eventually, we approach the stone again. Rick leans down to double-check the direction the arrow points to, and scraping away the moss that had grown over it again, points us to the left. I take a deep breath and step over the invisible boundary the rock has set. No one else blinks as we continue our walk, but I turn back for a brief moment. I swallow down the fear that rises in my throat and run to catch up to Rick, not wanting to be left behind. 

The walk passes by uneventfully. It’s a simple hike, the path before us clear and the deeper into the forest we walk, the calmer I become. We don’t encounter any creatures or dangerous beasts, and as my anxiety lulls, I become more invested in the conversations, and even Hope runs off a bit further. 

After some time, Jo calls out and runs to another stone marker, looking equally as old as the first one. We kneel down and see that the faded words carved into the stone, are just about readable. There’s about a mile left for us to walk and the arrow points us to the right instead of straight like we’d thought. I turn to follow the path to the right but see that there isn’t one. The path we’d been on for the last half an hour had been well-trodden and clear, but now it continued straight, and clearly, Addersfield was not following it. 

The path to the right isn’t too overgrown, but it slows down our pace. None of us wants to get caught amongst brambles and stinging nettles, so it takes a lot of teamwork to step through without injuries. We all end up with a few scratches, though nothing so drastic to require my first aid kit. 

Eventually, when I tire of walking through sharp bushes and lifting my knees to my chest to step over rudely tall stinging nettles, we step out into a bright field that slopes downwards. I’m the last to emerge from the forest and stand between Jo and Major, who are looking out at the view before us. 

We had been clearly walking up a hill, though none of us had noticed it, and now fields stretched out below us. The sun had come out from behind the clouds, bathing the green and brown ground in honey. I take a deep breath of the warm, fresh air, feeling like a giant on top of that hill. 

Major waves us down and Hope bounds before us, her fur streaming behind her. I laugh and soon we are all running after her, the wind in our hair, faces beaming, and for a moment I forget what I had been worried about this whole time. 

We reach the bottom of the hill where Hope is already running around sniffing the stones. Addersfield isn’t much to look at, in fact, disappointment settles in my heart as I glance around. I can’t keep it from my face or my voice as I wonder aloud,

“This is it?”

“Ladies, and gentlemen, Addersfield!” Major says, walking backwards with his arms stretched wide. I stop walking and take in the ancient town. 

Addersfield is nothing but ruins, though even that might be an exaggeration. There are no walls, or entrances to show where buildings may have stood. The only thing that suggests that a small town called Addersfield once existed here, is the foot tall stone foundations that form perfect lines. 

As I walk around the town, I see a stone square. It could have been anything. I step over the stones but am still as disappointed. Rick and Major are a little further off and Hope is sniffing everything. I catch Jo’s eye whose face is a mirror image of mine. 

We walk over to the boys who have stepped down a tiny hill and look down over the singular building that still holds some semblance of form. Its walls are probably half the height they were originally, and there are a few dips where I can imagine windows once stood. Surprisingly, the stones aren’t overgrown with grass and weeds like we’d thought, and the whole place looks rather well-preserved.

“What have you got here?” I ask as I step in line beside Rick. Jo stands next to Major and the four of us look down into the room-slash-hole-slash-ruin beneath us. 

“Well, I imagine it was a building of some sort,” Rick begins. 

“Really? I thought it was a spaceship,” Jo says grinning. 

“Ha, ha, Jo, very funny. I really have no idea what this could have been.”

“Literally anything,” I muse.

“A library.”

“A hospital.”

“A creepy church basement where dead people were shoved.” We all look down the line to Jo whose hands are once again in her pockets, her face completely monotone. 

We stand in silence for a moment, staring down at the crumbling building that once was alive, and that’s when I hear it. A quiet humming sound, like that of a fly far away. 

I frown and look up at Rick. He doesn’t seem to have heard it. I step forward involuntarily, the hum resonating in my head. It begins to unnerve me, and I suddenly wish it would stop. It feels as though someone was dragging nails over a chalkboard in my head and I cringe, barely stopping myself from clamping my ears shut with my hands. 

Rick glances down at me, worriedly. 

“Can you hear that?” I ask. He shakes his head as do the others. Before, the humming sound was barely audible, but it grows with every passing moment until I think I would need to shout to have myself heard. 

I step out of the line and walk around the perimeter of the ruin, Hope at my heels. Her ears are pricked as though she can hear something too. 

Slowly I walk around the walls, listening to the ever buzzing hum until I manage to pinpoint the location where it is loudest. Jo, Rick and Major stare at me as I walk, though they say nothing. 

I stop at the biggest dip in the wall, staring down into the middle of the building, where an oval, stone cone is standing. I wonder whether that is what’s emitting the sound, and as I shift to try and get closer to it, a shard of blue spears my vision. 

I step back in surprise but see nothing in front of me. The sky is cloudy, but that something blue had been right in front of my face. Suddenly, I realise that the humming sound has quietened to a barely-there sound, like before. 

“Guys, come over here!” I call out, waving over my friends, coming back to reality. Whatever this is, whatever I’m hearing and seeing, I’d rather not be the only one to witness it. 

“What is it?” Jo asks, her eyes wide with worry. “Are you alright?”

“I’m not sure. Tell me one of you can hear that humming,” I glance between them and watch their faces furrow in concentration. Major is the first to shake his head. 

“I can’t hear anything,” he shrugs. “Are you sure you’re not hallucinating?”

“I don’t think so…” I trail off, the idea sounding not too far off the truth. Then I point to where I had seen the blue shard. “What about here? Can you see anything?”

I move Jo to where I was standing and watch her eyes rove the air in front of me, but she too shrugs and shakes her head. I turn to Rick, my last hope at proving that I’m not going crazy. But he has a vacant look on his face, as though his attention has been grabbed by something more important than all of us. 

I move to nudge him, but before I can touch him, Rick whispers fearfully, “Do you see that?”

We all look across the building, but see nothing out of the ordinary. The fear that I had felt back at the campsite slowly creeps in again, and I pull Rick’s arm, desperate to leave.

“Let’s go, this place is creeping me out.”

Major and Jo nod, though Rick is still dazed. We begin walking away from the humming building foundation, and the sun comes out from behind a cloud again, making the abandoned town feel warmer. I turn around one last time and shout incoherently as I suddenly see what had enthralled Rick. 

I jump and point out to the building, Jo and Major turning with me. They gasp and I know they can see it too. A great blue dome protects the building, slightly see-through. 

It pulses very slightly, and I imagine it’s some sort of forcefield around the ruin. We step closer to it, and for some reason, the dome doesn’t disappear. Hope whines beside me, but I ignore her. 

The humming sound gets louder again, but less intrusive than before, as though the building wanted us to get as close to it as we could. 

I stand mere inches away from the dome, listening to its hum and watching it pulse. 

“Mary-Ann?” I hear Jo call my name behind me. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, unsure if she hears me. I reach out a hand and wave it in the air before the dome. I’m not brave enough to touch it yet, but the forcefield reacts to my presence. The part that I brush over, reaches out towards me before going back to its original place. 

The forcefield reminds me of jelly, just about clear, but moving gently. The hum in my ears excites me, and for the first time since we encountered that stone in the forest yesterday, I am eager to know more about this place. 

I turn on my heel and beam at my friends. Rick seems to come out of his daze, but instead of excitement I see wariness, mirrored in Jo’s and Major’s faces. 

“I think we should go,” Major says reaching out a hand towards me. 

“Why? We’ve just found something undeniably cool,” I grin, turning back to the forcefield. “Quick take a picture so we can show it to others.”

Jo reaches into her pocket and brings out her phone, but it refuses to turn on. One by one, the rest of our phones die, even though we know they had been fully charged that morning. My three friends exchange sceptical glances, but I don’t care. 

The fear from before has melted away into bravery and curiosity, and I reach out a hand again, but this time I touch the forcefield. I hear a strangled shout from behind me, but it’s muffled by my own heightened breathing. Nothing matters anymore. 

The forcefield barely reacts to my hand, only reaching forward and enveloping it up to my wrist. I slowly pull my hand back, marvelling at how the jelly-like forcefield lets go.

“Are you okay?” Jo shouts from behind me, but I ignore her. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I reach out my hand again, this time plunging it up to my elbow. I watch as the forcefield wraps around it thickly, and I slowly step forward.

“Mary-Ann!” I hear my name being called over and over behind me, but I pay them no attention, eager to know what’s on the other side. My feet slowly walk me towards the forcefield, and I take a deep breath as I’m fully enveloped and sucked through it. 

I open my eyes once I feel the forcefield release me and gasp at the sight before me. A great, glowing city lies beneath us, all within the borders of the ruin that I can no longer see. It shouldn’t fit, but some greater force makes sure it does. People walk the cobalt streets, and my eyes roam the domed houses and the pointy spires that reach towards me. I’m on the edge of a cliff, unable to move forwards or backwards, only watching the city thrive. 

I hear a low whooshing sound behind me, and turn to see Rick emerge from the forcefield. I can’t see anything beyond it, except for a blue haze. Within seconds of his appearing, Jo and Major follow suit and all four of us gape at the hidden city. 

“Addersfield,” Major murmurs, the only one of us capable of producing sounds. 

I nod and glance back over the city. “And you said you wanted to go home,” I joke, exhilaration and adrenaline coursing through my veins in equal measure. 

Rick laughs heartily and shakes his head. “You are the one who didn’t want to come in the first place.”

“What is this place?” Jo whispers, stepping forward and clutching my arm in a death grip. She looks terrified, glancing up to the top of the forcefield, down to the city and back behind us. I smile at her encouragingly, and the four of us make our way down to the glowing blue city. 

There are steps that lead us down the cliff and onto the main road of the city. Buildings loom over us, and it’s easy to forget that none of this should exist. People dressed in white pass us by, barely giving us a second glance. The closer I look, I realise that everything around us gives off a light blue smoke, making the people and the buildings seem like its glowing. 

We step forward and begin walking down the smooth roads, but strangely we hear nothing. Nothing other than the rolling of wagons, and sheep bleating, but we can hear no words, no voices. It isn’t strange until I start to listen to it, and the more I notice it, the more uncomfortable it becomes. 

We walk slowly through the city, in a straight line, shoulder to shoulder. We eventually walk up to a great white gate. I can imagine it being iron in the world above us, but within these ruins everything is white, and I can’t identify any materials that are used. 

None of us says anything as we approach the gate, feeling as though our hearts are leading us wherever we need to go and our feet are only following the predestined route. The gates swing open and we follow the long straight path to a great mansion, with giant domed roofs.

Again, the doors swing open, but surprisingly no one greets us. The mansion, the castle, whatever it may be, is silent. It’s almost deafening compared to the sounds of the streets, and I notice that even our footsteps are silent. 

None of us can bring ourselves to speak, not wanting to shatter the silence around it. It’s not entirely sacred, but something about this place makes me want to keep my mouth shut. 

We walk up a large staircase, each stair shining blue, reflecting us as we climb them. Suddenly, a deep voice echoes around us. 

“I know who you are,” it says. I almost jump out of my skin, Jo’s hand gripping my arm even tighter. My heart accelerates, but still, I feel no fear within me. My tongue unfurls, and I find my voice.

“Who are you?” I ask, my voice echoing around us.

“I am the one who sees, the one who protects. I am the one upon which everything is built.”

Rick and I share a confused look. He clears his throat and looks up towards the ceiling. “Are you God?”

Silence follows his question. “I am the one who sees this town, who protects this town. I am the one upon which this town is built.” Another beat passes, as though the voice is thinking. “I am not the god you think I am.”

“So you are a god?” I ask, growing braver with each word. The voice doesn’t respond for a minute, and I wonder whether we’ve frightened it off. When it does speak again, it’s quieter and much less intimidating. 

“I… I am not a god, no.” The voice is quiet, pensive, as though I have asked it a question it never thought to wonder. 

“Then…” Jo stumbles, her voice trembling. “Then, what are you?”

Suddenly a crash sounds in front of us, at the top of the stairs. We run the last few and end up on the landing, where a great navy door has swung wide open. 

A young boy in a long white dress stands in front of us, his hands clasped together. He couldn’t be any older than ten, and the mansion seems to drown him.

He steps forward, but our feet are frozen in place. I get a better glimpse of him as he comes towards us. He has pure white hair that flops over his forehead in long strands, and his eyes are the brightest but simultaneously the deepest blue I have ever seen. They hold the stars, the knowledge of the universe, and I can’t look away. 

When he speaks, it’s no longer the voice from before, but rather that of a child. “I don’t know what I am,” he says, his white eyebrows knitting together slightly. “I have been here for thousands of years. I do not remember where I came from. I have always been here.” He glances up at us. “What are you?”

I shake my head, not sure how to answer his question. “We’re human. We come from outside the forcefield.”

The little boy frowns and neatly folds his legs to the floor. Slowly, we sink to sit in front of him, like students in front of a teacher.

“I am the one who protects,” he says again, tasting the words. 

“From what?” I ask, leaning forward. “What do you protect Addersfield from?”

He raises his head sharply, and I’m startled by the intensity of his gaze. No child this young should hold the secrets of the universe, though I have a feeling he was made for it. He slowly lifts his hands, and I wonder whether this small non-god has had enough of our questioning. 

The boy’s hands come together in a resounding clap that echoes around us, and suddenly a white sphere floats before us. We all look at it, in both confusion and awe, the little boy most of all. 

Within the sphere, I see the town from outside the forcefield, the ruins that were once real buildings. All the figures within the sphere are glittering, as though they were made from electric blue sand. They rise and fall creating new shapes and showing us new scenes.

Though we can hear nothing, we watch as people run from their homes screaming, their fingers pointing to the sky. 

The sand shifts once more, and large, terrifying, navy, dragons roar in the sky, blowing sand-fire down onto the town. We watch as the dragons roar silently, destroying the little town of Addersfield. 

“I am the one who protects,” the boy murmurs, his bright eyes following the action. 

The sphere zooms in towards a little two-storey home, which I recognise as the ruins that the forcefield surrounds, and we watch as a little boy, stares at the dragons in the sky. Tears stream down his face, but all of a sudden his terror changes to something else. 

His eyebrows furrow, and determination sets into the young face. I see the eyes of a warrior, the brow of a king, and the little boy closes his eyes, brings his hands together, and silently claps. Before me, the boy staring up at the sphere does the same, gently mimicking the sand child. 

In the sphere, from the boy’s chest, expands a forcefield, obliterating the dragons and turning them to dust. The forcefield travels through the town, protecting the people, and drawing them all into the small house where the boy lived. The domed forcefield settles, and we watch as the town of Addersfield falls into ruin, though the forcefield remains. 

Thousands of years pass in a blur and then the sands fall to the bottom of the sphere. It is the end of the story. We all glance back down to the boy in front of us, dazed. 

No one speaks, unsure of what to say. Then the boy who protects, the one who saved his village turns to us. His eyes are filled with silver tears. 

“I am the one who protects. Has it been enough?”

The question hangs in the air, and it is Major who breaks the silence, his voice gentler than I’ve ever heard it. “Yes, it’s enough. You don’t need to protect them anymore.”

The tears fall from his endless eyes, and we all nod at him encouragingly. He stands to his feet like an old man, as though realising the amount of time he’s spent beneath this dome. 

“Come,” he says, reaching out his hands to us. Rick takes one hand and Major the other, and the five of us complete the circle. The boy looks at each of us, and I feel as though he has seen every part of me, read every thought.

A question rises in my mind and spills from my mouth like water. “Who are you?”

The boy smiles. “I am Blu, and I have protected.”

Then he closes his eyes and a feeling of electricity surges through our connected hands, and we watch as Blu pulls back the mansion, the city and its people, and finally the domed forcefield into himself. It surges like a bright light into his small chest, and I wonder whether he won’t explode from the strength of it all. 

Finally, after what seems like hours, we blink in the daylight, the ruined town of Addersfield surrounding us once more. Hope bounds towards us, her tongue lolling behind her. It seems that no time has passed since we passed through the forcefield.

Blu collapses to his knees and the boys catch him. Rick stands up, clutching him to his chest. 

“Look,” Jo whispers, pointing to Blu’s face. Colour slowly shifts back into his skin, starting with his nose and spreading out across the rest of his body. His cheeks grow pink and flushed, as though he’d been running around a field for hours. His hair grows to a light blonde and the long dress he was wearing bleeds into a deep brown. 

We crowd around the little boy in Rick’s arms, watching his chest rise and fall steadily, his long dark eyelashes resting on his cheek. He sleeps peacefully in Rick’s arms.

Without a word to each other, lest we wake the ancient child, the five of us and Hope head back to our camp, the forest now less menacing than it had been before. 

I keep looking over at Blu, hoping he stays asleep. By the time we reach the campsite, barely a few hours have gone by. Our parents rush towards us once they see the figure in Rick’s arms, and with a shared smile to each other, we explain how we had found an orphaned child living in the ruins of a city not far from here. 

They don’t ask for more, gently taking Blu from Rick’s hands. We watch as they tuck him into a spare sleeping bag.

Finally, after countless centuries, the one who protects could rest.

THE END