Britt rubbed tired eyes and set aside the book she had been reading, a technical description of the workings of a machine called an engine. The magic she could gain from continuing that line of research could bring great value to the little colony of Free People, but that wasn’t what she was searching for right now. She had hoped to glean some small bit of information that could lead to a more destructive, or protective, type of magic.

She had always wondered about the ancients, what questions they might have if they could see what had happened to their world. Though it was all she had ever known, Britt still found it strange that studying the creations called technology by the ancients was the path to gaining magic in this new world that was created by the ancients most powerful weapons. She had once, before the invasion of the Protectors, as they called themselves, read a small reference to weapons of mass destruction, but all knowledge of those devices had been studiously destroyed in the years after the world was destroyed: the magic that could have been gained from the study of those weapons would have been incalculable. She had never been able to follow that bread crumb, however, for the Protectors had come, with their religion that banned all study of the Ancients and their technology and outlawed the use of any magic that had been gained already through that study.

No one really knew where the Protectors had come from, and most of the common folk did not appreciate their heavy-handed discipline. The Free People were those common folk who had enough and sought to regain their autonomy. They had been fighting and hiding for the past three years, and Britt had finally managed to learn how to create a magical barrier, through careful study of a theoretical book on something called “force fields”.

Britt frowned to herself, falling backwards onto her bed to stare at the ceiling. A solution was out there, she just needed to find it. After a long couple of minutes lying on the bed, Britt suddenly sat up straight, almost banging her head on the low ceiling. “The archives!” Britt whispered to herself, flinging herself from the bed to start rummaging through the trunk that held most of her books. Moments later, she emerged with a slim volume held triumphantly in her hands.

Careful to not ruin the delicate pages, Britt opened the old book and leafed through the pages until she found the passage she was looking for. The book was a traveler’s guide to a place called Canada – according to the maps, where they lived now was in what had once been Canada – and it contained several references to various libraries throughout the land. She quickly scanned the list until she found the one that was, according to the old maps, the closest to their little hide-a-way. In an old city called Vancouver, it was one of the few libraries that had not only retained its collection when the world went “digital” (Britt had never fully understood what that meant), but had moved many of the cast-offs from other libraries to its own shelves. It was perfect.

Holding the book open, Britt fished out some pressed paper and a charcoal stub and began making notes, starting with directions on how to reach the library once they reach the ruined city.

It would be difficult, and there was no guarantee that the library still existed, or that it hadn’t already been destroyed by the Protectors. She would need to bring along Gabrielle and Jorge, of course; they had been a part of this since the beginning. And Mage Cecille, of course, since her skills with magic went far beyond Britt’s own, and Britt suspected they would need that skill to even locate what they needed. Continuing to take notes, Britt considered that the way to the library may not be clear and that they may be forced underground – thankfully the Ancients had developed quite useful underground tunnels, once used to transport cast-offs from their homes, it should prove to be the perfect path if necessary.

Finally, Britt sketched out the supplies they would need to make such a journey with five people, marking off what they could easily obtain from their own stockpile and what they would need to scavenge for. She paused, sighed, and reworked the figures – she wouldn’t be able to go with them, there was simply too much that needed to happen back here and no one she trusted to do what was necessary.

By the time Britt finished all the planning, the sun had long since set and she was working by the flickering light of her oil lantern. Looking over her notes one last time, Britt left them on her bedside table – an overturned barrel that had once held grains – and turned off the oil lantern. She would talk with her sister and Jorge in the morning, though she was certain the two adventurous friends would have no problem undertaking such a journey. And it would get their minds off the broken necklace.

“One… Two… Three…” Zol pressed his hands tight against his violet eyes as he faithfully counted to 20. Behind him, he could hear Zel scampering away to hide, the undergrowth rustling around her as she moved. “Eight… Nine…” The sounds of her movement fell away from Zol’s ears, though he could still hear the steady breathing of Alice, their caregiver. She never hid, no matter how many times they played. Her partner, Joseph, was likely shadowing Zel as she found her hiding place. Zol hoped that Joseph would hide, too, otherwise the game wouldn’t be as fun. He would give Zel’s hiding spot away.

“Nineteen… Twenty! Ready or not, hear I come!” Zol lowered his hands and looked around, blinking momentarily as his eyes adjusted to the soft light of the forest. He was a slight boy, with straight, midnight blue hair that just touched his shoulders and bangs that almost covered his eyes. Zol never smiled, and neither did his sister. Despite the games they would play, the twins were very serious children who never seemed to actually take true joy in what they did.

Zel and Zol played hide-and-seek because Alice had told them children should play games, and had taught them how to play. Every day, after lunch time, the twins dutifully played two rounds of hide-and-seek, each seeking the other once, before they returned to their studies. The forced play hadn’t yet made the children any less serious, but Alice and Joseph silently hoped, though they knew it was likely a baseless hope. None of the previous child gods of the moon and stars had ever become playful, all of them had been distressingly serious.

It took Zol about ten minutes of peering around the forest before he caught sight of Zel’s foot protruding from behind a bush. Moving silently, the young god snuck to the other side of the bush and parted the leaves, to reveal Zel’s shoe carefully positioned to look like her foot peeking out. Zol frowned down at the shoe, his brow crinkling. This was different.

He began looking around again, carrying the shoe with him for no reason other than he had been taught not to leave things in the forest. Zol knew his sister could not have gone far to hide, so he continued to peer around the forest until the most unusual sound reached his ears. Tilting his head, he tried to orient on the strange sound. It was vaguely familiar, like he had heard it before but slightly different. Lifting his eyes up to the forest canopy, his eyes alighted upon his sister. And she was laughing.

Zel, a perfect copy of her brother Zol, crouched in the tree on one of the thicker, lower branches with Joseph sitting lazily on the branch above. She had a small hand in front of her mouth as she giggled, watching her brother looking around on the ground for her. Joseph had suggested the hiding spot, though the shoe had been Zel’s idea.

“Found you, Zel!” Zol called out, pointing to his sister, “What are you doing up there?”

“Joseph helped me! It was a good spot, wasn’t it?”

Zol nodded somberly, “I wouldn’t have found you, if you hadn’t started laughing.”

Zel blushed slightly as she climbed down from the tree, “I’m sorry about that. It was just… it was fun watching you search in all the wrong spots for me!”

“Oh.” Zol raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more as he grabbed Zel’s hand and they began to walk back to the sanctum together, Joseph and Alice trailing slightly behind.

The sanctum had been one of the first temples erected for the God of the Moon and Goddess of the Stars, though it had not held worshippers for many years. Their joined symbol, a crescent moon tipped with a five-pointed star, was displayed prominently above the stone entrance, still clearly visible despite the years. Most of the temple was underground, save for a mosaic and pillars that ringed the entrance. The mosaic had once been a replica of the night sky, though the forest had reclaimed most of its beauty through the years. The pillars, once gleaming white marble etched with various stars and moons had stained to black and was decorated with vines that wound their way around.

Once, worshippers had gathered on the mosaic, hands raised to the sky as they praised the god and goddess that ruled the night. Once, they had filled the entire mosaic and their praise could be heard for miles around. That time had long past, but the God of the Moon and Goddess of the Stars made the abandoned temple their home, as a small homage to those who first believed in them.

As the four began to make their way down the stone steps, a strange sensation moved through all of them at once. Stopping suddenly, but in unison, the four looked at each other, confusion on the faces of the child god and goddess and fear on the faces of their caregivers.

“What was that, Alice?” Zol inquired, always the one to take the lead.

“Nothing good.” She responded, ushering the children down the stairs. “But we will find out.”