"Vaya Sinclair is unreachable. Her base was raided only last night, and she and her men were taken into custody."

Dowda massaged his nose bridge. He had gotten so close. So very close then overnight all his efforts were nil and void. A woman named Vay had contacted him with footage of the strange man from the surface under her restraints. But when his reply had gone ignored or unheard, he sought her out only to find out she had been arrested.

"Who was it?" Dowda raised his head to meet the blank stare of his droidian secretary. "Who arrested her?"

"According to information I've gathered from locals, it seems likely to be the Special Investigation Bureau."

"Under whose orders?!" Dowda sprang from his seat.

"All tasks assigned to the Special Investigation Bureau can only be authorized by King Zev of Dhulka."

Dowda was out the door before his secretary had time to recognize his indignation. He flew into an elevator that took him to the transpods which moved along the uppermost ceilings of the Northern Quarter and the Capital.

Dowda's transpod moved over the towering structures of the Northern Quarter, but he hardly cared for such a sight as magnificent as it was. One thought occupied his mind, and one alone: his father was hiding something about the fugitive.

Dowda barged his way past palace security and past his father's secretary. He threw the doors open and marched up to the king's desk.

The King jolted to his feet, red in the face. "Dowda! How many times must I repeat myself before you—"

"You took her didn't you?" Dowda's words stole the king's anger and replaced it with bewilderment. A bewilderment that only for a brief moment broke into recognition before it was masked again.

"What are you talking about!" Dark circles rimmed the king's eyes and grey hair outgrew his natural sandy-blonde. He seemed to had aged a decade since the last time Dowda had seen him. Something had been bothering him.

"Vaya Sinclair. The woman who had been harboring the man from the surface. I know you ordered her arrest. I know you aren't telling me the whole truth."

The King bristled and froze. He was still for a moment. His eyes never leaving Dowda's and the latter refusing to budge as well. Something alike fear burned in the king's eyes and slowly but surely turned into resignation. "If I told you her arrest had nothing to do with the man from the video, would you let it go?"

"Then you wouldn't mind me questioning her myself."

"Why would I think she had anything to do with that man?"

Dowda considered his father's words. The king neither confirmed nor denied his claim. His father was never a fan of riddles or any speech that wasn't direct and to the point. He only wanted to prolong this charade. "I wouldn't know but I know you know more then you let on. And sooner or later the truth will be revealed. Why delay it?"

~~~

A warmth blanketed her hand and seemed to trickle into the pit of her stomach, causing a strange tickling-like sensation to crawl out of her. His hand wrapped around hers in a tight grip. They had been walking for a while. For longer than that perhaps. And all that time, he never let her go. Few words were spared, mostly murmured then echoed slightly against the walls of the tunnels. He simply followed her lead, trusting her without question.

"We should rest for a awhile?" He said.

"Are you tired?" Zemlya prodded. "How do you feel?"

He was silent. His fingers slipped past hers. His warmth lingering only for so long before it slipped away as well. "You're a strange girl." He was confused. Amused. He found her peculiar.

A great big smile stretched across her face. She laughed. And went ahead down the tunnel. "Come along I know there's a room somewhere around here."

"How do you know this place so well?" His steps were in tune with hers. The warmth from his body filled the space between them.

"I've been up here a couple times," she murmured, ommiting the 100 that almost came with. She had every route and junction memorized. The number of steps she'd need to take. Her fingers remembered every groove and bump along the walls. And even the empty rooms long abandoned that she'd stumbled upon.

A couple more steps and few turns more, her hand came in contact with a door knob. She twisted the knob but it didn't budge.

"Let me," he said and placed his hand on hers.

"You're injured. And exhausted. And hungry."

"I'm fine."

Her hand lingered a moment before it slipped away. The door knob clicked after a terrible screech of rusty metal.

She traced the edges of the room, counting the steps to where she last slept in the room. Her feet met a warm, soft blanket. Then her knees gave in. And she plummeted into the comfort of its cushion.

"How much more do we have left to go?" His voice travelling a short distance to her ears, but whispered so it seemed so much farther.

"Just a little bit. I promise."

"Alright, then we'll rest for now."

"How is your wound?"

"It's almost healed up." But Zemlya could sense the lie in his far too casual tone. He was quick to change the topic.

"How will you get back once I'm gone?"

"The same way we came."

"What if you don't make it?"

"I'll be found. Don't worry about me." Zemlya had her phone with her, but Harran had long ago had it cleaned of trackers. No one knew where they were, unless she wanted them to know.

"Why are you the way you are?" His question seemed to form out of the blue. "Why are you always so calm? Why don't you ever get angry?"

She was silent a moment. Soon she was laughing. She hated that she wasn't as perfect as he must've imagined she'd be.

"I do get angry." Her words were heavy and bitter, but she laughed the weight of it off. "More than you know. And I wish that I wasn't but I am right now. I'm angry that the people closest to me are the last ones to care. But if I stay mad, my anger becomes a burden and I'm afraid my heart isn't strong enough to carry it."

"I suppose you're real then."

She smiled and reached out to his voice. Her fingers met cotton. A warmth coarsed through her interwoven with a steady thrum. "Did you think I wasn't?"

"The longer I'm with you, the more real you become. But when I leave tomorrow you might fade into fiction and I'll forget that you were ever real."

"I don't want to forget you." She pulled away and took his breath with her.

He laughed. She'd never forget his laugh either. "Have you fallen for me princess?"

"Who knows, maybe I have." She teased a smile.

The air shifted and his warmth fell on her face. She reached up to grasp it, and her fingers came in contact with skin. Blistering hot skin that she never wanted to let go of.

"I..." His voice was what she imagined rain sounded like. Like rumbling thunder and the rush of the wind. "I don't want to forget you either."

"Well what are we to do about that?" She said.

The question hung in the air, begging to be answered. But he didn't say a thing. No not when his lips met hers. He was fire, dangerous and consuming and every bit indispensable.

Then he pulled away and he was back where he was before he stole all her breath away. And her heart as well. She wondered if it was dark and he couldn't see how red her cheeks must've been. She hid her face behind her hands and the smile that claimed her countenance as well.

"Do you do that to all the girls you meet?" She finally asked.

"Only pampered princesses." She heard the grin in his voice and chuckled.

"The princess falling for a fugitive," he mused. "How scandalous is that?"

"Quite scandalous indeed." She grinned and held up her pinky. "Promise you won't tell a soul?"

He coiled his pinky around hers. "Of course, I can't have anyone knowing I was saved by the girl who wonders what rain tastes like."

She threw her hands in the air. "Oh come on! If water falls from the heavens it would only be reasonable to assume it tastes like stardust that makes your heart race and everything feel alright."

"First of, rain isn't a drug." He struggled to keep a serious tone. "Second of all, your highness, if you've ever drank water in your life I can guarantee you know what rain tastes like."

Zemlya pouted but she enjoyed this and hoped it would last longer. Maybe even forever. She laid on her back and closed her eyes. They'd never meet again. She'd forget him as much as she tried not to. He would one day only be a dream.

"If I asked you who you are, what would you say?" She let the words escape and wondered if he heard her when no response came. She only wanted to know more to make him seem a little more real.

"My name is Lua."

Not just a name. Not just a touch. Everyone was a name and a touch anyway.

"What would you say if I said I wanted to know more about you?"

He was careful with his answers. Picking through what to hide and what to reveal. "I'm a warrior."

"Did you want to be a warrior?"

"It isn't something one simply chooses to become. My father raised my brother and I to be warriors."

"You have a brother?" Zemlya couldn't quiet her curiosity.

"I had a brother."

She cursed herself for opening a wound she couldn't mend. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, where I come from death is as close as a lover."

What a world they lived in. Because there was no above and below, there was only the earth and all its inhabitants.

"What's it like up there?"

"Dangerous. Harsh. No place for a princess." She knew what he meant to say. But she didn't care.

"Will we ever see each other again?"

"Hopefully, never."

Some dreams will only ever remain as dreams. Locked away in hearts and minds to be pondered on when thoughts are nil and hearts feel empty.

~~~

Lua saw her in his dreams. Sitting in a field of flowers. Just about as beautiful as one. Under the sun, mocking it's brilliance with her own. With her smile like diamonds and gold and gems that greedy men would scramble for claim.

She was his and then she was gone.

He was alone in the meadow. Left to the wilting flowers. And dry earth against his back. And the harsh sun screaming down at him with its heat so real it burned him through his own mind.

His eyes flew open to be met with the big bold sun gleaming at him past the layer of muck. He sprang to his feet and reached for the ceiling. Smooth and warm to the touch. Clinked like glass. This was it. The surface was only beyond this thin layer of glass.

No more would he wait. He could finally return to Drait and fix what he knew he destroyed. He'd take all punishments brought upon him and beg for forgiveness. He'd leave and Dhulka would become a long forgotten memory.

He looked over at her sleeping form. Just as dazzling as she looked in his dream. This was it. They'd never see each other again. They were only just passing through each other's lives.

He wouldn't admit it to her nor himself, but he wished they didn't have to part.

He crouched beside her and tucked a lock behind her ear. Soon after she was stirring awake. "Lua?"

"Hmm?"

Alarm filled her eyes. "You should've woke me." She was on her feet before he knew it. "We should get going."

She straightened her dress in a haste and felt for the walls.

"Zemlya." She froze. He'd finally said her name. And it would be the last time he'd say it. "This is it."

She furrowed her brows. "I know. But we aren't there yet."

"We're here. Right here. This is the end." He reached up and knocked on the glass ceiling. "This is..." The words stalled in his throat. "This is goodbye."

Just as she parted her lips to speak, a voice sounded from her hips. Loud and deep. A man spoke, "this is an immediate announcement from your King. I ask for the attention of all citizens of Dhulka including those beneath, of the lower folds."

She revealed her blaring phone. On it was the image of an aged man with sandy hair and grey eyes like Zemlya's. She was his spitting image. The man  stood before an arena full of people who held up gadgets of flashing lights and enlarged telescopes.

Zemlya looked as confused as Lua was.

"Dear people of Dhulka I have a grave confession to make. And beg for forgiveness from every last one of you. What I'm about to reveal to you now, will alarm you but I only hope it will not divide us. For it is not a time to fight amongst ourselves but to come together for the greater good of Dhulka. There are, humans who walk the surface."

Lua watched wide-eyed without a word. Was this real? Was all this just one big game? Had he been toyed with from the beginning?

"One you may have seen in the video that had been circulating the line a few days back. He means Dhulka no harm, I can certainly assure you that. But not all from the surface will be as civil as he is. His name is Lua, and he is our friend. He will protect us from a tribe of surface people known as the Cadits. And in return we will protect his people, the Draits. Together we will keep Dhulka safe."

"Lua," Zemlya said his name but he barely heard her.

"Lua, if you're listening to this broadcast." The man met Lua's eye behind the screen, as if he knew he had every bit of his attention. "I hope you know we are on your side. Chief Shan, your father, has left us in your care."