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You and me against the world
You and me against the world
The theatre was a humdrum of activity. The stage was filled with actors and actresses feeding each other lines of the script, stage hands running to and fro fetching drinks and props, the crew assembling the final pieces of décor. Hyperion was pacing the length of the stage impatiently, listening in on various readings without really picking up what was being said. His eyes and attention were on the door, which hadn’t opened in quite some time.
“Has no one seen her?” he asked loudly, coming to a sudden halt in the middle of the stage. The ‘her’ he was referring to was, unfortunately, none other than Ilona, who had once again failed to show up on time. That in itself wasn’t an unusual occurrence, except that it had been over an hour. Even at the worst of times, she had never been this late before. Hyperion tried to be annoyed, but he remembered what she had told him that one night she had taken him to the lake outside of the city. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her, even though she was slowing down their rehearsal: everyone else had arrived but her. Instead, Hyperion couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Sighing, he waved over the stage manager, who knew the play almost as well as Hyperion did, and told him to get rehearsal started while Hyperion went to look for Ilona. Once he was sure the rehearsal was sort of on its way, Hyperion ducked out of the theatre. He looked around once he got outside and immediately felt foolish – this wasn’t a play where the missing heroine suddenly appeared at the most opportune moment. But a moment later, his eyes landed on something odd. It wasn’t Ilona, but it was something extremely uncharacteristic for Ba Sing Se, where it was usually pleasantly warm – ice.
Frowning, Hyperion crossed the street and crouched down near the small patch of ice. He touched his fingers to it carefully. It was still cold to the touch, even though part of it melted away under the heat of his fingers. It was relatively fresh. Hyperion looked down the street, still crouched, and spotted several other patches of ice, growing increasingly larger each time. This wasn’t a natural occurrence. This was the work of a water bender. And three times a guess which water bender Hyperion knew who also practised ice bending.
It was easy to follow the trail of ice outside of the city. The closer Hyperion got to the edge of town, the more he became convinced that he would find Ilona at the end of the trail: this was the exact route they had taken the evening they’d gone out to dinner and Ilona had taken him to the lake. He stopped paying attention to the patches of ice and focused on what he remembered of the route from last time.
He spotted Ilona’s red, curly hair before he saw the rest of her. Hyperion approached carefully, if only because the patches of ice had grown so large that they covered most of the ground. If Hyperion didn’t mind his feet, he’d fall flat on his face, and that was the last thing he wanted, especially in front of Ilona. Slowly but surely, he approached, until he halted next to her. With great care, he crouched down next to her. “Ilona?” he asked softly. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. Her skin was ice cold to the touch. Alarmed, he gripped her shoulder more tightly, shaking her slightly. “Ilona? Can you hear me?”
Real name : Celeste
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