Laety & The Half Life (Laety)

The following fictitious events take place in Reality R (Red)

Once a year the summer sun lingered long enough that Sylem caught a glimpse of light and life.

It didn’t last long, but those few days were the most precious to Laety. She’d never seen the sun in its true glory, but she’d heard about it.

She longed for the change, for the days. Now, they got a glimpse of light for an hour at most, long enough to go on a run and scavenge. Tonight was Laety’s night to check the traps. On this night, one of them had been triggered. She approached slowly at first, not wanting to startled whatever they’d caught.

She hoped it was something edible, not another Salamander with crackled black flesh and beady fire eyes. Laety was one, but not like these — she had a soul still, a body form that was half fairy and half Wiccan. She had hopes and dreams.

The Salamanders that occupied Sylem, as it hung on the precipice between Life and Death, were dark and dangerous. All they wanted was to consume.

Laety peered over the edge slowly, inch by inch. She got down onto her stomach, so that the thing wouldn’t see her first.

When her eyes reached the edge, she look a long breath before she moved one more inch over.

There, standing at the bottom of the pit, was a girl that looked like she might be Laety’s age.

Laety’s eyes popped wide. The foragers from the shipping crates were more careful, usually, but this had been a good trap — one of their best.

“Hey,” Laety called down, just loud enough that the girl could hear her. “You’re alone. Your people leave you behind?”

“Yep they left me here to die.”

It didn’t make much sense, but there was no way out of the trap without substantial effort and the sunlight was about to vanish.

“You can do the honors,” The girl in the pit said.

Laety shook her head. “We’ll see.” She wasn’t going to kill a real person if she could help it. For one, there were so few of them left, for two…it was a young girl. Most of the living were old.

For three, she was hot. She had short jagged brown hair and a round face and her eyes screamed help while her words and body said fuck off.

She was perfect, in a superficial sort of enemy-probably way.

Laety sat on the edge of the pit. “How long have you been down there? We haven’t checked this trap in a few days.”

“If you don’t kill me I’ll die of dehydration in the next day or so. Unless it rains.”

Laety reached into her pack and pulled out a plastic bottle of water. She tossed it down to the girl. The average being could survive three days without water, give or take. That lined up well with a day or so remaining. Which meant… “So two days?”

The girl tossed her head in a sort of eyeroll. She looked at the water but didn’t drink any.

“I appreciate you drawing out my suffering,” the girl said.

“What’s it like in the shipping crates?” Laety asked, to confirm where the girl came from. The crate people were her most notable enemy outside of the Salamanders. They were willing to kill others, and they didn’t like her parents.

“Warmer than inland, but more wind.”

So you are a shipping crate girl. Why would they leave you? They could have taken you.

Maybe she was a spy.

Or maybe things had gotten out of hand, and they’d been invaded.

Laety and her dad had the unique advantage of becoming Salamanders and blending in when they had to. Most of them knew their groups, so it was a last ditch tactic, but they had it up their sleeves.

“How are the monsters there?” Laety asked.

“Safe. We’re protected. How are they here?”

“Rampant. You probably don’t want to stay down there. What sort of weapons do you have on you?”

“My staff broke when I fell.” The girl nudged it.

Laety hadn’t seen many staffs. They were unique. Usually, there were magic pouches made from whatever gardens could grow. Greenhouses still worked, with lightbulbs for sunlight.

“What do you use a staff for?” Laety asked her.

“Monsters. You. Who cares? It broke.”

Monsters would burn it. I would burn it. Laety couldn’t tell her about her fire magic. There weren’t any other fairies, as far as she knew. Her dad shouldn’t have even ended up trapped there, but he was and he’d survived and had a child with a powerful Wiccan. Laety’s mom, Naomi, wasn’t around much — she had her own things to do — but she checked in on them. She had Laety’s twin brother with her, on her missions. The idea was to keep them separated so that if something were to happen to one side, the other would be alive still.

Laety studied the girl. She would die if she stayed out much longer. The Salamanders may have missed her two nights in a row, but they wouldn’t miss the area for a third. Laety tossed anti-magic cuffs down the pit. “Cuff your hands.”

The girl did. “You could kill me. Taking on a prisoners is expensive.”

And stupid. I know.

“I’ll take the chance for now.” Laety tossed a rope down and undid the magic latch that kept the trap closed. “Loop it through your cuffs and try to get your foot in the loop too, for stability.”

The girl did it. Laety pulled on the rope. She heard a rustle. She stopped and fell to the ground, prepared to transform if she had too. Nothing else came. No fire, no signs of life.

It must have been the wind.

It might not have been, but she had to rationalize it to keep calm. She was late getting home and wouldn’t make it. She would have to use a different house for the night.

“Please don’t drop me unless it’s high enough to be fatal,” The girl said.

Laety laughed and started to pull again. She got the girl out, finally. It was a relief to be done, but a new burden welcomed Laety: The girl smelled like she’d been stuck in a bathroomless pit for two days. Laety put the rope in her pack. The water was lost, but it was in a secure bottle. Maybe it would find someone else in need. At least it was plastic, they had plenty of plastic bottles.

“Come on,” Laety urged the girl. “It’s getting dark.”

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet.” Laety tugged on her elbow. “But it’s better than being out here alone.”

Laety led the girl to one of their safe houses, tucked inside an abandoned and boarded up building. She made sure the coast was clear before she entered through a special back entrance that was locked with a spell. Inside, the wards stood: They were safe. She turned the lights on and then turned to face the girl.

“This is way better than shipping containers,” the girl observed.

“Don’t tell anyone about it,” Laety said, but she wasn’t sure she could trust the girl. Either way, she’d committed to a course of action. She pointed toward the fridge. “Food and water after you shower. You smell like shit. Fresh clothes are in the dresser.”

“Who would I tell?” the girl asked.

“Your friends?”

At least it wasn’t their main home.

“I don’t have any friends,” the girl said.

“That’s too bad,” except, maybe it meant Laety would have a friend, someone to stick around with their little group.

It would be too dangerous for the girl.

Laety sighed, and with the large exhale came a large inhale, which came with the stench of someone who had been sitting in a hole in the ground for two days.

“Please, for the love of the Sun, Moon, and Maelchor, shower?”

“Yep.” The girl stripped in front of her. “Anything else, Your Bossfulness?”

Laety stared at her.

Her body was so female. So perfect. Laety shook it off. “Washing machine is in the bathroom closet. Fresh clothes are in my room.”

“Very generous.” The girl picked up her clothes off of the floor. “I definitely know where your room is.”

“Trust me, you changing is the true gift,” Laety said — because ultimately, she could not be anything but friends with this person, with this potential enemy.

Laety walked down the hall, down the cold tile floors, and opened the door to her bedroom. “Here. Help yourself to whatever.”

The worst part about their life was that Laety didn’t have belongings that mattered to her. She had clothes she wore in places, but she’d learned a long time ago that transforming into a Salamander meant abandoning your clothes, sometimes forever.

Laety glanced at the girl one more time. It was a bad idea. She looked away and walked back down the hall, to the kitchen. The best thing about the magic that her mom had taught her was that you could preserve a space. Everytime they left, they did the wards and as long as they came back and everything was still fresh, it was safe. That also meant the food in the fridge hadn’t aged a bit. It was their number one tactic to surviving; they had food stashes all over so they could eat fresh food, even years after everything had gone wrong.

While the girl showered, Laety prepared two omelettes with veggies mixed in. It wasn’t much, but it was something to offer. She also got out fresh water bottles. She brought them to the table. The girl came out in a new pair of clothes, thankfully.

“It’s not much,” Laety told her. “But it’s healthy, full of protein and other nutrients.”

“Why are you feeding me?”

Because everything is all but dead and I want a friend.

“I don’t know yet,” Laety lied. She didn’t want to come off creepy, like she had found a pet in a pit and adopted it. She poured some tea into cups. “Mint and lavender, no magic. Not that you trust it…”

“You could have killed me several times by now.” The girl looked at the tea, like she wanted it but was unwilling to believe her own words.

It was true. This was the worst way to kill someone. Wasteful.

“Then enjoy your meal,” Laety pressed. “And remember, I wouldn’t waste food on someone I intended to murder. That’s stupid.” She got up and went and got some chocolate, a rare leftover from a long time ago. She pulled out two small pieces and offered one to the girl. “My parents would kill me if they knew you were here, for the record.”

Especially her mom, who knew no mercy.

“So what are you going to do?” The girl asked.

“I don’t know,” Laety said again. She was as aware of the pressure to figure this out as the girl was to remind her of it. She had some more of the omelette, then leaned back. “What are you trained in? How have you survived?”

Maybe she could convince her parents the girl was an asset.

“I’m trained in survival. That’s how I’ve survived.”

Laety laughed, mostly out of frustration. “That’s not a specialty.”

And if you were really that good at surviving you would know your life depends on you being useful.

“Do you just have one specialty, then?”

“No.” But Laety had to have lots of skills. Most days it was her dad and her, and every job had to be done by both of them. “I always assumed with so many people, you’d have a specialty: Guarding, attacking, gardening, reproducing, medical, equipment…”

“It rotates so we can fill in gaps any time we lose someone, without having weaknesses.”

So the same as us.

She was useful, but nothing she had said made her distinguished enough to propose keeping to her parents.

“If I let you go, what will you tell them about me?”

“Nothing.”

“Could you go missing again?”

“Sure.”

Laety undid the anti-magic cuffs. They freed the girl entirely. Laety braced herself to be attacked, but the girl didn’t do anything except stand up.

“See you around?” the girl said.

Laety leaned back, even though she wanted to order the girl to stay. She tried to play it cool. “It’s dark out. Leave at your own risk.”

“We live here. Everything I do is at my own risk.” The girl straightened. “Just be glad it’s not at yours.”

Unless you share this location. Then I’m screwed. “You could stay,” Laety urged. She got up and rinsed her plate off. “I’ll be here in three nights, not counting this one.” 

And you’ll either be here alone, with backup, or not at all.

“You could stay too, but you aren’t, which means I shouldn’t either.”

“I am staying,” Laety said. “It’s too risky to go out.”

“You said you’d be here in three nights. Like…you wouldn’t be tonight.”

Laety groaned. The amount of suspicion prevented a real conversation.

“I’m not leaving tonight. I’m leaving in the morning. I’m not stupid enough to travel by nightfall in this area.”

The girl looked at the door. “How bad is it out there?”

Laety went over to a small closet and opened the door. Inside were screens, most of them mismatched because they couldn’t go to the store and get a complete matching set. She pointed to the various Salamanders slinking through the wood, down streets. They owned the night.

“I’ll leave in the morning too, then. Thank you for your generous hospitality.” The girl sat down and shook her now-dry short hair through her fingers. She sat and drank some water (but not the tea).

“Why won’t you eat?” Laety asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

That’s a lie. “Then enjoy this going to waste.” Laety put it in the fridge, because there was no way she was wasting it even if it would taste like rubber and wilt in the morning.

The girl finished her water, went over to the couch, and flipped onto it like a log falling. She closed her eyes.

Laety watched her. Why trust sleep but not food?

Laety went to shower. She was late, and she didn’t believe her dad wouldn’t show up.

But what would he do?