How could so much change in the space of two days? In one moment, I am partying with my friends and family. Now, the rain hammers against me, seeping in through the thin rain jacket they had given me. I shiver violently. There isn't any part of my skin that isn't soaking wet. I swear, my bones are turning to ice. Mud squelches beneath my boots and puddles of water leak in through the seams. My teeth chatter and my body trembles. Still, I must keep going.

"Come on!" Connor shouts, a few strides ahead of me. I grit my teeth and speed up. My heart races in my chest, my lungs burn, and my breath comes in heaving pants. We move as fast as we can, despite the wind and rain thrashing against us and the boggy ground trying to suck us into its depths.

We can barely see ahead of us. To put it frankly, we are both lost, in an extreme storm, with faulty equipment. If we don't find shelter soon, hypothermia may kill us off before our pursuers have a chance to capture us.

Connor and I have done escape and evasion training multiple times. Being dropped off in some random part of Athaine, in the middle of nowhere is hardly new. For our exam at the academy, we had to make our way through the Serntora Mountain range undetected. For two long weeks, we waded through thick snow and lived off the occasional snow hare that we managed to snare. It was brutal. I had never been more exhausted, hungry, and cold in my life.

Suffice to say, if I can live with minimal equipment for two weeks in those mountains, then I can survive one fucking rainstorm. I grit my teeth in determination and push myself on. This isn't the first time I've taken my body to its extremes, and it won't be the last. I just have to put my head down and get on with it. As difficult as it is, I just need to try not to think about the cold, the rain, or the aching in my tired muscles. One step after another. Just think about that and nothing else.

Connor pulls me down by a rock. We sit with our backs to the wind. The rain still hammers against us, and water soaks through our trousers as we sit. We remove our coats and make a makeshift shelter above our heads. For heat, we cuddle into each other, trying to share whatever warmth we have. Connor shivers as violently as I do. His skin is pale and his lips blue. We've been out here for at least ten hours. It was the early hours when they drove us along the dirt roads in the loud, shuddering trucks with their uncomfortable benches in the back where you could feel every single vibration and bump. At certain points in the journey, without even stopping the vehicle, they kicked us out with only one instruction.

Run.

"I should have known it would have been the Fairfall Moors," Connor hisses, his voice shaking. I nod my head in agreement. The Fairfall Moors are the most open, flat, exposed lands in Athaine. They span for hundreds of miles and a lot of it is nothing but sticky bogs. There is no shelter and nowhere to hide.

The rain starts to ease. As we hold each other tightly, I slowly feel sensation begin to return to my fingers and hands. My feet aren't so lucky. The boots, which are purposely bad, like the rest of the equipment they had given us, stay soggy and heavy.

"We should get moving," Connor says.

"I know," I say. When I pull my body from him, a chill spreads over me in the gap where his warmth was. I pull on the wet raincoat and we take off running again. We keep an even pace, lucky to have found some less boggy land. The slapping of our feet on the wet ground provides a rhythm for to two of us to run to. As we run, there is only one thing on my mind.

One step at a time. One step at a time. One step at a time.

I'm barely focusing on anything else. The world around me has disappeared and my mind is blank but for my constant repetition of those five words over and over again. I let out a shout as Connor suddenly rams his body into mine. We go crashing into the mud. The breath leaves my body and Connor covers my mouth before I can let out a shocked scream.

It takes a few moments to figure out what is happening.

I go still, spotting what's going on ahead. My eyes widen as soldiers, all wearing black surround another team. Great big alsatians tug on thin leads, rearing onto their hind legs, their teeth bared and their growled barks horribly loud.

I lie in frozen terror, not even feeling the cold water and mud seeping into my clothes as I lie on the surface of the bog.

My eyes are wide as I stare at the other team. It takes a few moments to recognise them with their mud-soaked faces and clothing.

"It's Aiden and Sven," Connor whispers in my ear. I nod my head, remembering partying with them only two nights ago. I shudder, still trying to comprehend how everything has happened so fast.

Connor doesn't say anything else. We just watch in still silence as they are violently tackled into the mud, their screams somehow louder than the Alsatian's growls and barking. There are muffled shouts coming from the black-clad soldiers, but I can't make out what they are saying.

They drag the restrained pair. Their whole bodies are covered in thick brown mud. I watch them struggle against the guards. Connor winces as one of the solider's slams their fist into Adien's face. He goes limp instantly. Black bags are placed over their faces and the pair are dragged to a truck which sits on one of the many bumpy, stony tracks that have been built into the bogs.

Connor and I stay down, not moving even as they make their way away from us. I am actually thankful that I am covered in so much mud that I am somewhat hidden from sight. I'm also grateful for the heavy rain and howling winds that carry our scent away from the dogs.

We watch as they are thrown into the rugged truck. It shudders as it bounces down the track and away from us. Even when it is out of sight, Connor and I don't stand or make any sort of movement for another twenty minutes at least.

"That was too close," Connor says with a shaking breath. I turn to him. His whole face is covered in mud. It is matted in his hair and there are streaks running down his face from where the rain has trickled down his skin. He looks exhausted. I imagine I look the same.

"Thanks for the save," I say, gulping.

He chuckles and nudges me playfully. "You really need to start paying attention to what's going on around you," he tells me.

"Why? I've got a guardian for that," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughs and shakes his head before helping me up. I can't help but smile widely as we start jogging through the sloppy mud once more, glad that I'm stuck out here with him.

"I'm not looking forward to when it's our turn," Conner shudders. I hum in agreement.

"What do you think they'll do to us when they catch us?" I ask, grimacing.

"It's interrogation training. What do you think?" Conner asks.

I shudder and Conner continues.

"I've heard stories that they're brutal too," he tells me. I nod my head, not surprised. They've got to make sure that if we are captured, we don't spill our secrets to the enemy.

"Still," I say, "it's a training exercise. They won't take it too far, right?"

Conner looks at me out of the corner of his eyes. His lips pull into a tight line. I let out a nervous breath and change the subject, not wanting to think about that part of the exercise any more.

"Did Aidan and Sven say why they are doing this test?" I ask Connor.

"Yeah," he replies and takes a few deep breaths before answering, "they're going into ASIF. Well, if they pass."

Despite being exhausted, I somehow still have the energy to feel bitter jealousy spread through me. It makes my stomach drop and I shudder.

If Mr Day hadn't gotten in the way, then I would have received an opportunity to join ASIF. It was one of the positions I was most drawn to when we were having talks about future careers. Being a soldier in the Athainian Special Infiltration Force is one of the most prestigious jobs in the military. They are deadly, secretive and one of the most effective groups in all the five realms. That should be me.

I grit my teeth and push myself further, not wanting to think about that anymore.

"I wonder if anyone else has been captured?" Connor asks. I shrug. There had been four pairs in the truck this morning. Connor and I were the second pair thrown off so I have no idea where the others could be. At this moment, I don't really care either. All I can do is try my hardest to ignore the cold and wet seeping into my body and push through the horrible aches in my legs and feet.

***

They catch up to us during the night. In the darkness, we try to run away. But, armed with torches and guns and barking, howling Alsatians, Connor and I don't get very far. I am violently tackled to the ground. My face slams into the mud, and for a few moments, I can't breathe. My body lurches and my lungs scream. Then, with a snap, I am pulled from the ground. My arms are yanked harshly behind me, my wrists tightly secured. A bag, smelling of dust and dirt is put over my head. It is suffocating and my breath comes in short, sharp, panicked pants.

For a moment, I think about trying to dream walk. It would be easy. To them, it would look like I had fainted. Meanwhile, I will take over one of their bodies so I can fight off the others.

As if knowing what I am thinking, I feel a sharp prick in my arm. A surprised scream leaves my mouth. Before I can even try and process what it could be, burning tingling fills my veins. It spreads quickly throughout my body, making it almost hum. I'm a powerful dream walker. I can force my body into a sleep so that I can dream walk even in extreme circumstances - something weaker dream walkers struggle to do. Whatever they've pumped my veins full of will ensure that sleep is an impossibility.

I land in the back of one of the trucks with a heavy grunt. Pain ripples up the left side of my body. As the truck starts to move, the vibrations and jolts only exacerbate the aches and pains. It does not make for a comfortable trip. Not that I can even focus on that. In fact, I can hardly focus on my own thoughts as the strange substance pulsing through my body causes nothing but confusion and disorientation. I try to remember my name, but not even that comes to me.

I lose all sense of feeling, thought and time altogether. By the time I can process what is happening, I am lying on cold, hard ground. My vision focuses. I am in a small, concrete room. It is illuminated by fluorescent lights that flicker, making my head spin. Water drips down the walls, making them slimy and the air stinks of mould and dried blood. It is thick, and heavy too, making breathing uncomfortable. I gulp and try and push down the fear ready to bubble out of me. It takes all my strength not to sob and cradle my shaking body.

The sound of keys in a lock makes me jump. My heart leaps into my throat and my stomach drops. My mind goes wild with my imagination. What are they going to do to me? As I think of all sorts of horrific scenarios, my body trembles uncontrollably. Black spots fill my vision, and loud ringing plays in my ears. Dizziness clouds my mind, making me feel so awfully, stiflingly hot. Sweat breaks out across my clammy skin. I feel it dripping down my temple and I can taste the salt on my lips.

The guard wears all black. Nothing is visible to me, not even their face. I press my body against the cold wall, trying to get away from them. They come to a stop in front of me. For ten long seconds, they say nothing. Those ten seconds feel like a lifetime as my racing heart sounds deafening in my ears.

"I will give you this one opportunity before we begin," the guard says, his voice deep and cold. "Tell me your name."

I gulp, my throat feeling like sandpaper. "I'm sorry, but I cannot answer your question," I say. Somehow, I manage to keep my voice free of any shaking or stutters.

"Very well." The way he says it sends chills right up my spine and has dread clawing in the pits of my stomach. In that instant, I regret every decision I have ever made that caused me to end up here. Even memories of my graduation, and how proud of myself I was, cause a bitter taste to fill my mouth. It would be so easy just to stop. I could fail this exam right now and they wouldn't make me a wraith. I could be just a normal soldier. Or I could go home and work with my mother. I could be the Redbird heir and take over her mantle once she retires.

"If you say any other word than 'I'm sorry, but I cannot answer your question' then you will fail. Do you understand?" That is what the exercise commander had said during the brief. All I have to do right now is tell this man my name. It would be so easy.

Yet I know I will not. My tongue feels heavy, and my voice dries up at the thought of even saying it. My body has been through many extremes. I have been beaten and broken before. I will do it again and I will come out victorious, just like I always do. I shall not bring shame to those who trained me, and I will not let my mother down. She didn't raise a weak daughter.

The guard comes over to me and forces me onto my knees. He lifts my arms up above my head and bends my upper body into a forty-five-degree angle. Then, he takes a needle and injects it into me. This time, I don't flinch or wince. It isn't as strong as the first dose, but heat spreads through my body and I know I will not be able to sleep. I cannot dream walk my way out of this one.

He takes a seat in a chair in the corner of the room. "You stay like that until I say. If you move, then you will be punished."

I don't reply. I am only thirty seconds into this position and already, my outstretched arms begin to burn, as do my back and core muscles. I close my eyes tightly and try to distract myself.

I think about my mother and father and of the last moments I saw them. It was at the train station as they readied to board the locomotive back to Thuldon. They hugged me tightly. Even away from our city and the metal factory, Mother still smelt like soot and smoke, mixed with the lilies of her perfume. She embraced me so tightly that I could barely breathe. I didn't mind it though. She kissed my forehead over and over. Though her eyes were glassy, she refused to shed a tear. Her smile was so gentle as she looked at me. It was a mixture of pride, sadness, and love.

"One more thing," she said softly and reached into the purse. I pretended not to see the handgun inside, the metal dull and the barrel thin. She pulled out an envelope and handed it to me.

"It's from both of us," Father said, his smile wide.

I opened it quickly, tearing the paper. Inside, was a golden locket. The locket hung on a golden chain and was rectangular in shape. Its design was elegant, and the metal was engraved with pretty swirling patterns. Mother gently took it from me and showed me how to open it. Inside was a slightly fuzzy black-and-white image. Immediately, tears formed in my eyes. It was the three of us, that night we celebrated my results. I had forgotten that our photographs were even taken whilst we danced. Our smiles were wide, our embrace tight and our hair and clothes dishevelled from all the dancing. It was so perfect.

"I know you won't be able to take this everywhere with you," Mother had said, "but I hope this will bring you comfort when you are missing home."

I let out a sob then and flung myself into their arms like a little child. They scooped me up completely.

Mother, I will make you proud. They won't break me.

I hold onto those thoughts as my limbs burn from holding the stress position. Next, comes the strange numbness as the blood struggles to reach my fingers and arms after too long of being raised above my heart. My knees, thighs, and calves also begin to feel a deep, unsettling ache. The temptation to sit down properly and stretch them out is so overwhelming, that it takes all my willpower not to. My soul focus goes into fighting my own body. My teeth grit tightly and grind together. Sweat pours down my face, mixed with tears.

I don't know how many hours pass. It feels like a whole lifetime. I take to counting my heartbeat, but I keep losing count in the late hundreds as pain shoots through my body. Eventually, the guard stands. He forces me up into a standing position. This time, I cry out as my ceased muscles, stiff and frozen, feel as though they've been torn and ripped as they move too quickly. When my arms are finally lowered, they tingle with the rush of blood filling them again. No, they do more than tingle. It stings as though thousands of tiny needles are piercing my skin over and over.

"What is your name?" he asks.

"I'm sorry, I can't answer that question," I manage to splutter out, my voice hoarse.

He pulls out another needle and injects me with more of that substance. Then, he leaves. When he's gone, he turns out all the lights. It is so dark, that I can't see my hand right in front of my face. As the light disappears, so does the noise. All I can hear is a dull ringing in my own ears, surrounded by fuzzy silence.

I lean against the wall and slowly fall into a sitting position. I want to sleep. The need is so desperate that my eyes burn, and my limbs feel deeply heavy. But whatever is pumping through my veins will not allow me to. So, I sit in the darkness and try to distract myself once more.