The Final Betrayal

    Iris set the pencil down. She had tried every single day, her lithe fingers trembling as it enclosed around the yellow wood. The yellow had worn down into brown, from her fingers rubbing over it in worry. 

    Yet the words refuse to flow into her brain, refusing to flow down from her fingers into the white crisp paper. Her Talent was gone, ever since being drained from her two years ago. She missed that familiar rush of Energy that flowed into her when she began writing, that familiar rush of Words that saturated the paper. 

    And here she was. 

    Word-less. Talent-less.

    She was dishonored, bound to the lowest levels of society, stuck forever in the small room that seemed to strangle her subconsciously. It was a cage.

    The sound of heavy footsteps set her on alert, and she palmed a knife in her hand. The small rooms of the Apartment were often open to robberies and homicides, and protection was not provided by outside sources. The Talent-less were not cared for in society; they were the lowest of the low. 

    And Iris had been one of them for two years. She had lived in luxury, surrounded by admiring people and silk. Now, she was alone and surrounded by wood and metal. 

    The footsteps grew closer before pausing outside the door. Three consecutive knocks reached her ears. People rarely knocked here; no politeness was required for dealing with the Talent-less. This visitor was unusual, perhaps one of the ones who had gained back their Talent or a sympathizing Upper.

    She carefully peeked through the eye-hole, her heart reaching her throat as she caught who the figure was. She had not seen him since last month during her trial. Even then, his sparkling blue eyes refused to catch her own mud-brown ones, and he stood resolutely against her. 

    And, yet, here he was. Standing here, his blue eyes downcast, his shoulders slumped. Perhaps she had become crazy, but she opened the door anyway, her hand clenching the handle of the blade hidden in her jeans. 

    “Iris,” he breathed, his blue eyes sparking with guilt as he stood in the doorway. 

    She refused to respond, stepping backwards and letting him in. His wondrous blue eyes which had caught hers that fateful day they first met wandered around the room, taking in the bed pallet, the small wooden desk, the stove that contained one pan, the mini refrigerator stored inside the wall, and the bathroom that took up much of the space. 

    When he turned back to her, he looked upset and regretful. “Iris,” he began, again. 

    But she was done with politeness. Done with greetings. “Why are you here, Caleb?” she asked, her voice sharp as the blade that was still digging into her right thumb. 

    A flash of regret crossed his eyes, before they hardened again. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Make sure you were…”

    “Still alive,” Iris finished. “After you sent me here. After you and your friends took away my Talent. Are you satisfied now? Or are you going to finish what you initially began by sending me here? Perhaps you should try now, but don’t expect me to stand here and wait for you to kill me.” 

She showed him the knife that she palmed in his hand, the knife that she held so casually when she waded through the killing fields with Caleb by her side. But Caleb was not by her side anymore. They were on opposite sides, enemies to the bitter end. 

    “Iris,” he said, swallowing deeply. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

    She inhaled sharply. “If you have come this way, from your cushy home in the Uppers, just to apologize to me, then you are more of a fool than I thought you to be. Are you done apologizing yet? Because you can go now.” 

    Iris stepped aside, gesturing for him to leave. But Caleb, that stubborn mule, stayed in place, his eyes desperately trying to catch hers. She was done with apologies, done with Caleb. All she wished was for him to leave, even if she was desperately drinking in his gaze and the warmth from his body as he stood in her room. The first visitor she had in a long time; the first human she had been around in a long time, face to face.

    Caleb sighed, sitting down on her pallet, the mattress squeaking. “Here me out, Iris. I have a reason.”

    “So you have a reason for not visiting me for the last two years. A reason for betraying me the first day I saw you in two years. A reason for taking away my Writing Talent. I trusted you, Caleb. And I thought what we had was special. But it was just a ruse, wasn’t it, Caleb?” she spit out, stepping as far away from him. 

    The hurt that flooded her body was as potent as it was the day she saw him in court. Saw him refuse to look at her, saw him testify against her. It burned her down, sent her into the darkest depths of despair. She had just barely clawed herself out, and now that he was here, she was spiralling down again. 

    Frustration filled Caleb’s face, and regret and guilt played on the edges of his eyes. “I do have a reason. The Society threatened my family if I did not testify against you. We would lose our house, lose our standings, be stripped of our Talents. My mother would die from the pain of doing such a thing.”

    “So you sacrificed me instead. Because I could handle the pain. Because I could lose my house, be stripped of my standing. Because I had no family. And you did,” Iris finished, sitting down on the opposite end of the pallet. 

    She refused to look at him. Refused to understand how Caleb had not found another way to get out of it. Why she had to be sacrificed. Because, unlike Caleb thought, she was not handling the pain. She was drowning slowly. As everyday passed by, Iris fingered her knife even more, wondering what would happen with one slash, and if the pain and humiliation would fade away. 

    Caleb shook his head, the frustration still evident across his face. “Look, Iris, I know you are hurt. But I have my family to care for. And after the Society discovered how powerful you were, how your writings were appealing to the people of the Society and how you were turning them against the Society, they feared you. And then they blackmailed me.”

    Iris lunged towards him, pinning him against the wall. Her knife trembled against his bare throat. “Do you understand how I have been since you, someone I trusted, put me in here? Everyday, I’m scared for my life. Everyday, I have this knife next to me, under my pillow, just in case anyone decides to break in. Everyday, I wonder if today will be my last.”

    She could feel Caleb’s swallow against the metal of her blade, but she refused to let her mud brown gaze waver from his own glacier blue eyes. They would never be the same anymore, not after all of this. 

    Iris backed away, the knife suddenly heavy in her hands. She sat down, a tear trailing down the length of her cheek. “I can’t write anymore. I can’t feel the words like I used to. Not after you took it away from me.”

    Caleb knelt down in front of her, his blue eyes steady, even after she held a knife to his throat. “That is why I am here. Because you can still write. I did not take your Talent away from you; it is within you. For me to have taken the Talent from you would mean that you would be dead right now.” His eyes were pleading; his voice earnest. 

    Iris faltered, her hand trembling. “What do you mean? I have not been able to write.”

    “Because you believe so, Iris! Open your eyes, relax. I know you can write because I did not touch your Talent. It is part of your soul, and cannot be taken away.”

    Iris exhaled, wobbling over to her desk uncertainty. The yellow pencil laid there along with that taunting piece of white, blank paper. It seemed ridiculous that she could still write, after two years of trying and failing. It seemed ridiculous that her Talent was part of her soul because her soul was still intact; but if it was still intact, why could she not write?

    A tear dripped down her face onto the paper, creating a splotch on the perfect sheet. It was ruined, like Iris was. 

    Ruined. 

    “Iris,” Caleb murmured, his voice a balm against her frayed nerves. “Your Talent is within you. Don’t forget that.”

    She buried her head into her hands, her dark brown hair falling past her pale skin. “I haven’t been able to write for two years. How could… It’s not possible, Caleb. It’s not possible at all.”

    Caleb pulled Iris towards him, forcing her eyes to meet his own. Ocean blue. Soothing. There was the slightest tinge of emotion within that sea of calm, something that she recognized but shrunk away from. “Iris, you are the strongest person I know. You can do this. You just have to reach within you, reach within your soul, and just let everything go. The ugly, the beautiful. I’ll be there.”

    Iris didn’t bother shooting back that he had not been there for her for two years. She closed her eyes. Let down her walls, that was what he was telling her to do. Let down her walls. 

    But she couldn’t, not with him here. Not with a ghost from her past constantly hovering over her shoulder, constantly brushing up against her. Bringing back memories that she could not undo. 

    “I need you to go,” Iris said, her voice hard. 

    She turned towards him, drilling her eyes into his sea of blue. A flash of hurt rippled across the calm water, but she didn’t let herself respond. After a brief second, Caleb nodded and walked out, the click of the door the only notification that he had let. 

    And then Iris let it all out, tears rushing down her face onto her lap, onto the paper, onto the desk. She was so tired, so hurt, tired of being hurt. She flung a glass towards the wall, watching it shatter onto the floor. Nothing mattered, not even that expensive piece of glass. This anger had been brewing within her for two years and had turned into an unstoppable snowball. 

    After a couple of minutes of sniffles, rage, tears, and steadying breaths, she finally sat up straight. It was the clearest she was seeing in a long time. The calm after the storm, they said. And through her blotchy face, through the tear tracks on her cheek, she could feel it. 

    A golden, roiling ball of Energy within her, pulsing. It had been waiting to be found, like a scared animal retreating to a corner. Iris reached out a hesitant hand to it, a finger brushing against the glowing strings, letting the Energy flow into her. She exhaled, a smile finally painting her face after two years. And the Words - they flowed through her like a steady stream, flowing through her veins into her heart. Warming the coldest parts of her. 

    And then she began to write, her fingers steady against the faded paint of the pencil. 

    I could not breathe. The pain that rippled through me struck me to my very bones, electrocuted me to my heart. And he just stood there, his electric blue eyes biting me to the core. They were blank, like how he was when he first saw me. The device was still in his hand, buzzing with my Energy, or what was my Energy. 

    I couldn’t stop that betrayal from running through me. He was the second half of my soul. He was my missing puzzle piece. And now he was here, draining my Energy, taking away my Talent. 

    I should have known. From his behavior last week, how he refused to meet my eyes, how his kisses were hesitant. I should have known that all he had been doing was an act. Our relationship was an act, and I, the stupid fool, fell for it. 

    So I laid there, helpless on the floor, no Energy running through me. I couldn’t have moved, even if I wanted to. I watched him walk away, watching his back moving away from me. He was a traitor. So I threw my knife at him, watching as it landed a hair-breadth away from him. Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t hurt him. But he could hurt me. He didn’t even turn around, didn’t turn around to face me. Just like that, Caleb Storm was out of my life, taking my life with him. 

    We were supposed to take down the Society together. We knew that they had tiered ranks, based on our Talents. I was one of the lucky ones in the middle tier, joining with Caleb who was on the inside. We knew that they implanted our Talents into us, wiring it into our DNA to experiment with us to create the mindless creatures who would serve the Society. And the Talentless, the people who were incompatible with their Talents, were relegated to the bottom. 

    We were going to liberate them. My Words were convincing them, turning them to our side. That was my power. And Caleb used his to kill the corrupt government officials. We were a team. Partners. 

    Instead, Caleb turned on me. But the Society considered me too important to kill, so I am stuck here. Alone. 

    But I’m not alone, am I? Even now, I am aware that the Society is watching me. Watching my every mood. I suppose this is my last act in defiance of the Society. Caleb wasn’t here to support me, to pick my shattered pieces off of the ground. I knew him well enough to see the regret and guilt written over his figure and face. He wasn’t here to help me. He was here for the Society, still doing their dirty work. All to see if my Talent is still working. 

    I wished for him to be genuine. To actually care for me. He did, until the Society turned him against me. But at least he was truthful about one thing. That my Talent was within my soul. That, perhaps, was the only thing that he ever told the truth about. 

So here we are, two enemies on the battlefield. I loved you, Caleb. I really did. And I hope you die.

    Here is my last message to the Society. 

    The Society will die. The Society will fall, by people like me. We have gathered enough supporters who are just hiding, waiting for the right moment. 

    So, go ahead. I have nothing to care about. Nothing to live for. 

    Long live the Resistance. 

    Long live the Resistance. 

    Long live 

    Censor after reading.

This is an official Society document. 

Hunt down all associates of Iris Thorn. 

Iris Thorn never existed.

Burn this document immediately. 

LONG LIVE THE SOCIETY!

With all respect,

Caleb Storm