[Imahica]

NEW WORLD

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction

Summary: Over ten years have passed since the Global Outbreak. Walking corpses have invaded the planet but it is not the only change that has taken place. Humans evolved drastically to adapt to the new world. Some learned to see in the dark and dwelled underground. Some sprouted wings and inhabit the skies—and Daryl Dixon is one of them. This is a story of how human beings try to reclaim the world from the dead.

Chapter 1: The Flyers

“Will I be able to see the sky?” he asked me excitedly; although it does not show in his face, his eyes gave him away.

Hope was born three years ago, in the dark, just like the other children born in these dark times. He was from a neighbouring settlement, the sole survivor of his group after they were attacked by Walkers. My band is a sworn brother of that group and they had called upon us for aid the night of the assault. But we were too late.

“Yes,” I whispered to his ear. I held Hope close to my chest, sitting on my lap as I lean on the rocky wall. There’s only darkness surrounding us and the other sleeping children. Hope’s pale skin, silver blonde hair and inquisitive grey eyes make the boy shine amidst the sea of shadows.

I remember that night, three years ago, as if it only happened yesterday. Our small army arrived at the settlement only to witness our brothers getting devoured by the rotting corpses. As the realization that we were too late to help them dawned on us, we were consumed by rage and killed the monsters in frenzy: we mutilated each and every Walker, taking our time with the kill; aware that whatever pain we inflict upon them is in vain for they cannot feel a thing.

After the carnage we weren’t satisfied and wanted to kill more. I broke into a room but instead of Walkers, I was shocked to see a woman surrounded by blood. I checked for bites but there was none. She was bleeding from childbirth. I am no healer and did not know what to do. I screamed for help but the hardened soil walls were thick and the woman would not let go of my arm. The woman died giving birth to a shining child—literally: pale skin, silver blonde hair, grey eyes.

The baby looked like a ray of hope.

“And the winged-people? Will I be able to see them?” Hope asks again. The children today have developed significantly faster that before the outbreak. A handful has been able to speak like an adult at the age of three—just like Hope. “Yes,” I told him again. “But you should not be afraid when we walk the earth.”

“I’m not,” the little boy answered looking firmly to my eyes. “Because the Flyers will kill the Walkers. They will save us.”

I nodded. “Yes, and they will create a cure.” I brought Hope’s head back close to my chest. “One day we can all walk on land without fear. Just like before.”

“Just like before I was born?” the child whispered.

“Just like before you were born,” I repeated.

Over ten years have passed since the Global Outbreak, the living has evolved and changed drastically to adapt to the new world. The Flyers—human beings that sprouted wings from their back—have fled from land and inhabited the skies. With intelligence enhanced significantly by the evolution, they were able to find a way to create a habitat above the earth, away from the Walkers. They promised the people who were not part of the blessed change—the ones who remained on land—that they will find a cure.

But the people left behind also needed to change in order to survive. They dug and built communities underground. Physical strength was multiplied and changes in their body allowed them to see clearly in the dark and thrive in a place surrounded by rocks and soil.

Hope stirred. Suddenly, the groans and the moans started.

“Oh please, Emyli,” Hope cried burying his face on my shoulder, “make them stop!”

“Shh…shh, it’s okay,” I tried to calm the boy by hugging him and stroking his back. The last thing we want is for the whole quarters full of children to wake up and panic.

The change, however, was not only limited to the living. We thought before that we were safe underground. But as we have seen the attack on that other settlement three years ago, we realized that the Walkers have become desperate, not getting food anymore as we have moved below earth, they also learned how to dig; to claw the soil with their fingers to reach us. It’s not a threat if they’ll do it singularly, but as a herd…it’s a different story.

And that’s what they’re doing now: making holes on earth using their hands and nails. Fortunately, we are too far below that it would take a herd weeks to reach us. Nevertheless, our sensitive ears can tell that the Walkers are straight above us. I can hear each moan as well as the sound of soil being clawed. And Hope can hear them too.

“Make them stop, Emyli,” the boy pleaded. “Call Daryl! Tell him to kill all of them!”

“Shh…shh,” I patted his back. “Daryl will surely come. You go to sleep now and when you wake up, he has slain them all.”

“Promise?” Hope asked still doubtful.

“I promise.”

It’s only then that the boy relaxed. Hope pulled my long, black hair to my shoulder and closed his eyes using it as his pillow. I wrapped him with my arms as I also tried to sleep.

I closed my eyes and the vision I saw is Daryl descending from the skies with his mighty wings and crossbow. I know he will return. He must return. But in my heart I feel a knot; I have a bad feeling on the approaching Descend.

Next chapter: We learn of the winged-people…

Author’s Notes:
Hi guys! This fic might be a little weird as the idea came from my dream again.
Please do leave me a review so I’ll know what you think of this. I’ll put updates/new chapters depending on the response of the readers. I'd like to know if people will be interested in reading a TWD fanfic like this.
Thank you in advance

[xHan]

I think it's cool

[the Walkin Dude]

Count me in as a reader. Good start, i like the different aspect of your story. Looking forward to the Flyers.

[brain baker]

I find the idea really interesting and extremely original. I will enjoy seeing where you take the story.

[lee63]

I enjoyed it and would love to read more.

[Sportskmom]

Bring on more...Fast! This will be a great distraction while I wait on February!

[Imahica]

I think it's cool

Aww, thank you so much. I'm glad you found it cool

Count me in as a reader. Good start, i like the different aspect of your story. Looking forward to the Flyers.

Me too! I'm excited to see winged-Daryl in action And I'm happy that you appreciate the story's "difference" compared to other fics. Thank you so much for reading

I find the idea really interesting and extremely original. I will enjoy seeing where you take the story.

Oh, I can't express how greatful I am that you liked this kind of take with TWD. I hope to not let you down I'm excited for the next chapters as well.

I enjoyed it and would love to read more.

Yey! So happy you enjoyed it. And I'll be posting the next chapter in a few minutes *wink wink

Bring on more...Fast! This will be a great distraction while I wait on February!

I'll be honored to keep you occupied till the second half of TWD's third season Thank you.

[Imahica]

NEW WORLD

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction

Previously: Emyli, a dweller in one of the underground settlements, recalled some of the changes that took place ever since the dead started walking. She was ushering a three-year old boy to sleep when Walkers started clawing on the ground above them. Emyli assured the child that Daryl, one of the Flyers, will make the Walkers go away.

Chapter 2: The Guard at the Tower

Daryl is standing outside the door that leads to a chamber called The Peak. The Sky Castle was built only five years ago, on the top of the highest mountain in North America—built with stones and by people who can fly. The castle has more towers than an elaborate crown and the one he's guarding leads to the highest point of the fortress—thus, its name.

The Flyers call the place they live in the Skies. Daryl can imagine the people on land thinking that they are actually walking and running on clouds; but clouds are still what they are and no one can walk or build houses on them, with or without wings. Homes are built on the highest mountain slopes—only on the highest mountain slopes—surrounded by mist and fog. These homes are built like towers stretching far, far, up and then connected by bridges at the top to a spacious rectangular town center they call the Square. The Sky Castle was built to tower over the homes and the Square. Being at The Peak's entrance, Daryl is thankful he's not afraid of heights.

The meeting with The General started a few hours back. Daryl would wager the meeting is about the Descend two days from now—except all asses of the committees' heads are sitting inside the chamber. This shit couldn't be just about that; this is about something bigger and Daryl's eyelids twitch in unease as he thinks about what it could be.

He walked towards the side of the circular spot. All he can see is the white clouds surrounding him; he can't even make out of the adjacent tower. He held on the stone fence and looked down—perfectly knowing what he'll see: endless mist. Still, he did look down, missing the good ol' earth and the people left behind.

The Landers, as they call all living people left below, are waiting for them to find a cure. Daryl does not need to be part of the Science Committee to know they haven't made significant progress on the matter. They have discovered amusing and disturbing things, but cure is not one of them. He was restless the day he joined the others ascend to build the Skies and he still is to this very day. Daryl, with his wings, belonged; but his mind and heart has always wanted him to go down and continue the struggle on foot. The scientists have confirmed that the Flyers can resist Turning; they will not become Walkers through bite or scratch—but they remain carriers, so the Turn is only triggered through natural death. It is a disturbing fact: The Flyers, high above the sky, away from Walkers—unless there's someone stupid enough not to shoot through the brain of someone who died, they are completely safe; while the Landers remain vulnerable with corpses walking among them.

Daryl sniffed the air and it did not take him more than a second to aim with his crossbow. The mist hinders Daryl to see and not for the first time he wishes for a hole-digger's sight. But even without visual confirmation, he knows the smell and the fluttering wings are all too familiar to him now: Vultures. A handful of other birds are captured to be eaten or domesticated but these birds are not what humans are used to. Vultures' meat is poison and their wild nature hinders them to be properly ridden. They are big—bigger than a full-grown man by a few feet. They are white as snow which makes the birds hard to be seen through the clouds. And they are vultures—as in predators; they do not feed on the dead, they prefer their meat alive.

There are two, Daryl surmised, and he wouldn't be able to fight properly if he stays inside the tower. He stepped on the stone fence and waited. Using the disturbances in the mist as his cue, he timed his jump…and fell on the back of one of the savage birds. The Vulture cried and squirmed violently trying to shake him off. Daryl unsheathed his sharp knife and aimed—but the other bird made an appearance a few meters ahead of him, tearing the clouds with it sharp, open, beak. Daryl ducked instantly and the bird flew past him. The one he's standing on continued to twitch and cry, trying to turn its head around to poke him with its deadly mouth.

Daryl, still ducking, moved to towards the tail of the bird to avoid its beak…then he aimed forward with his crossbow. The other bird will be coming from the same direction once more, he knows it. And when it did come—wailing and noisy—Daryl shot an arrow through its mouth, upward to its brain and the giant white winged-predator fell into white smoke. This other one will be easier: he claimed the knife from his side again, reached and drove it down to the bird's head. It too, dropped dead.

Daryl freed his silver-gray wings and flew.

***

When the heads of the committees went out of the chambers through the staircase steps several minutes after, Daryl turned his back from the opening. He didn't want to pay them the stupid courtesies. Instead, he let his eyes wander through the clouds, not really looking at anything—'not really seeing anything. When the air echoed the sound of the heavy chamber's door being closed and everyone's feet are on the stairs moving downwards, Daryl finally turned around.

"Wha' was that fuckin' about?" he sneered at Rick with arms crossed.

Rick looked around as if checking if they're really alone. Then he looked at Daryl eying the small patch of blood on the fur covering his shoulders.

"Vultures," Daryl mouthed, "nothing unusual."

Rick nodded and walked towards him. He stared at the white sheet of smoke, not speaking.

Whatever the situation is, Daryl's first reaction will always be fury and right now, he can feel his anger rising because of the suspense. He clenched his fist and kept his distance from Rick—to keep himself from punching the Commander of the Sky Army's Offense Troop.

"How bad is it?" Daryl asked through gritted teeth.

Rick looked at Daryl in the eyes; he looked at his second-in-command firmly and said: "The General wants all of them dead."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "All of 'em? You mean the Walkers?"

Rick sighed and shook his head. He put a firm hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"All of them," he repeated, "Walkers…Landers…."

Daryl slapped Rick's hands off of him, his face twisted in rage.

"The General wants them annihilated," Rick continues with a shaky voice but stern face, "all the people below. Living and dead."

Next chapter: Daryl descends from the Skies….

Author’s Notes:

Hi guys! Thank you so much for replying to this thread! I’m so happy I’m not the only one who’d like to see how this kind of TWD story will turn out.

Please continue following. I’m currently crazy with this story; it’s in my head when I’m awake and even asleep.

P.S

By the way, this story is also in fanfiction.net. If you’d want to visit it there, please feel free: http://www.fanfictio...673/1/New-World.

Thanks again and Merry Cristmas!

[xHan]

Seems as another great chapter, this work is something the majority f writers have never seem before, and it also
Seems as the majority like this taste

[That Guy]

I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a dick, but you lost me the moment Daryl literally sprouted wings. Something like that belongs in a fantasy story, it does not if at all within TWD.

I don't know, maybe I missed something and he didn't literally have wings, but all the evidence sure points to it.

Your first chapter was interesting as I thought the people were spreading exaggerated stories about those that managed to rebuild flying machines like helicopters and used those to live up high in the mountain. Like some form of mythology. Yet it seems you went the literal route and I do not like it.

[brain baker]

I think this is a good chapter as well. I enjoy your story and the aspects of fantasy most of all. You're take on how people would adapt to survive is extremely original. Maybe to much so for some peoples taste but i'd say most like it.

[Imahica]

Seems as another great chapter, this work is something the majority f writers have never seem before, and it also
Seems as the majority like this taste

Thank you so much for thinking it's a great chapter. Yeah, most fanfic I read as well follows the TV show or the Comic's rules and storyline. I haven't read something that is actually on the fantasy side. Thanks so much

I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a dick, but you lost me the moment Daryl literally sprouted wings. Something like that belongs in a fantasy story, it does not if at all within TWD.

I don't know, maybe I missed something and he didn't literally have wings, but all the evidence sure points to it.

Your first chapter was interesting as I thought the people were spreading exaggerated stories about those that managed to rebuild flying machines like helicopters and used those to live up high in the mountain. Like some form of mythology. Yet it seems you went the literal route and I do not like it.

No, no problem at all
And you read right..Daryl do has wings...as in literally. So does Rick as well as the other people who ascended to the Skies. I was not planning to keep this as a secret at all. And yes, this is actually a fantasy--deviating the Comic and the TV show--and reality's norms and rules.
It's okay if you do not like it; I expected it when I first had this idea because going radically different and fantasy are not everyone's cup of tea. I just hope my story did not offend you in anyway I really, truly love The Walking Dead and wouldn't want to upset other people who love it too.
But still, thank you so much for giving it a chance

I think this is a good chapter as well. I enjoy your story and the aspects of fantasy most of all. You're take on how people would adapt to survive is extremely original. Maybe to much so for some peoples taste but i'd say most like it.

Aww, thanks so much. I hope so too; that there will be more people who'll like this idea. But I think as long as I have at least one reader who enjoys this, I'll continue posting. I know I'll continue wrting this because I truly enjoy writing it Thank you so much again, I I appreciate your support, thank you.

[That Guy]

No, no problem at all
And you read right..Daryl do has wings...as in literally. So does Rick as well as the other people who ascended to the Skies. I was not planning to keep this as a secret at all. And yes, this is actually a fantasy--deviating the Comic and the TV show--and reality's norms and rules.
It's okay if you do not like it; I expected it when I first had this idea because going radically different and fantasy are not everyone's cup of tea. I just hope my story did not offend you in anyway I really, truly love The Walking Dead and wouldn't want to upset other people who love it too.
But still, thank you so much for giving it a chance

Aha, so I read it right.

Don't get me wrong though; your writing is good and enjoyable, I just feel that it doesn't work withint TWD's universe. But carry on anyways, it is well written and good practice.

[the Walkin Dude]

imahica, definitely a different perspective, but i am enjoying it. Please continue.

[glitterbomb]

I really like it, the fear of being underground and hearing walkers clawing at for you is very chilling and i like the way you wrote it. I also like the idea of Daryl as an arc angel type character - this may not have been your intention but I definitely thought of biblical/mount olympus when i read about the peak

I don't usually read fantasy but if this was a book I would definitely enjoy reading it, if you are going to pursue writing as a career i would be really interested in reading a book with this theme (with Daryl and RIck taken out for copyright reasons)

[Imahica]

imahica, definitely a different perspective, but i am enjoying it. Please continue.

Aww, thank you so much. This kind of comment keeps me going

I really like it, the fear of being underground and hearing walkers clawing at for you is very chilling and i like the way you wrote it. I also like the idea of Daryl as an arc angel type character - this may not have been your intention but I definitely thought of biblical/mount olympus when i read about the peak

I don't usually read fantasy but if this was a book I would definitely enjoy reading it, if you are going to pursue writing as a career i would be really interested in reading a book with this theme (with Daryl and RIck taken out for copyright reasons)

Wow, your comment was wonderful I'm flattered--especially when you said you don't usually read fantasy. I actually might consider writing this without TWD characters in the future. I have outlined the story and I couldn't help it...the story and the world became elaborate to the point that I drew maps and created timelines.

Again, thank you so much. You've definitely gave me more reasons to continue this And yeah, I actually also see Daryl as angel-like in this story

Third chapter in a few minutes

[Imahica]

NEW WORLD

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction

Previously: Daryl stood guard on the highest tower of the Sky Castle. He killed two vultures as he waited the meeting of all committee heads and the General to finish. Rick, the captain of Sky Army’s Offense Troop gravely told Daryl that the directive given was to annihilate all humans on and beneath land—living and dead.

Chapter 3: Three Ladies and the Descend

I pull my saber free and stick its end to the head of the Walker.

“I hope that’s the last one,” Maggie walked towards me holding her mace.

“I wouldn’t wish that if I were you,” Andrea said wiping the blood on her spear with a cloth. “They’re the only thing that keeps the Hyenas away.”

Maggie sighed. “I don’t forget.”

Three of us, and three Walkers; the very same ones who were clawing the ground last night, I believe. “Stupid fence,” Maggie uttered as we push the bodies to the other side of the barricade through the gap below. “I mean, why do we have these if they don’t keep the damn Walkers out?”

“We need more materials to improve our fence,” Andrea said. “Wood, metal....” Both of them looked at me expectantly. “The dwellers of Cityscape have all the things we need to build a strong wall,” I told them. “But the chances of them agreeing to barter went significantly down when we refused to roof the city immigrants a few months ago.” I look at Andrea. “I’m sure the Governor has his reasons for refusing to accommodate them.”

Andrea expelled air and put her hands on her waist and pursed her lips like she doesn’t know what to say.

I, Maggie and Andrea walked out of the woods covering half of ground where our burrows are located. We just left the Walkers’ bodies lying on the other side of the barricade to keep other kinds of monsters away; just like what Andrea said, Walkers repel the Hyenas.

We are almost out of the forest when Miguel came to view. “Ladies, we’ve been looking for you.” Miguel is tall, about 6 feet in height, early forties in age. He has Spanish features but speaks English without accent. Miguel is the Deputy Chief of the First Fighter Squad. He’s accompanied by two warriors; they’re all on horses with two more being led by Miguel’s men.

“Lady Councilor,” Miguel addressed Andrea. “The Governor wants you at the port’s gate. The envoys from Red Shore and Sandyrocks have arrived. Your assistance is needed to clear the goods they have brought.”

“Sandyrocks?” Andrea repeated with narrowed eyes. “So we have visitors from the desert?” She looked at me and Maggie. “They did not join the first Descend.” I nodded.

“More reason why we need you to inspect their cargoes,” Miguel said. Now he turned to Maggie who walked towards her horse. “Lieutenant Rhee, your post is at Burrow Six, point nine forty-five. I’m surprised seeing you right across where you should be. You might be interested to know that your two warriors barely succeeded in impeding trespass of five Norms.” Maggie rolled her eyes and rode her horse away.

Andrea prepared to do the same with her horse.

“They will be accompanying you to the center-river point,” Miguel told her and the two warriors positioned themselves to each of Andrea’s side. “A boat is waiting there.”

Andrea nodded to me and went.

“As for you, Architect—”

“I know my duties, Deputy,” I walked past him and his horse. He rode slowly to keep beside me. “It’s yours that I’m wondering about. I didn’t know being part of the Fighter Squad involves fetching ladies.”

“I do as I am commanded,” he answered sternly. “And you should leave killing Walkers to warriors. The Governor allowed you your saber believing that you’ll use it responsibly.”

“I am,” I defended. “All the warriors are busy with the preparation for the Descend. I wouldn’t bother anyone just to kill three Walkers.” I sighed. “It’s just that I ran to Maggie and Andrea and it’s rare that we have common free time so we went together.”

Miguel did not respond but I can feel his stare even until we have emerged from the woods and parted ways.
It’s a beautiful morning with the sun shining vividly from the sky. I didn’t want to admit it, but I do look forward to the Descend. It’s been three years since the first one; three years since I last saw Daryl and the others. But my growing worry has not left me.

I walked to Burrow 2 and descended through the iron passageway on the ground and to the lift. I am to help the other Builders in clearing a new passageway from Burrow 2 to 3. After that, I plan to visit Judith at this burrow’s children’s quarter. I promised to be with her later at the Center.

The Descend will take place at the Center—a circular gathering ground considered the heart of Landers civilization; it’s equivalent to the Square of the Skies. The Center is surrounded by the burrows of the current capital colony: Woodbury.

The Woodbury colony—the colony where I belong to—is composed of six large settlements; each is circle in shape, surrounding the Center like rings of a tree. The colony runs under the leadership of Philip the Governor. Our burrows were ploughed on a plateau: forest lands enclosed by mountains where the Skies were erected. This makes the Square of the Skies and the Center of the Land adjacent to each other.

It was agreed, before the Flyers took off to the sky, that every three years, they will descend to bring news of their research, barter food and supplies, and to ferry the children to who have been born with wings on Land to the Skies. Three years ago, the first Descend took place. We have built a market on the Center and during that time, Woodbury opened its gates to Landers from different colonies and settlements. Even Norms (technically, humans who did not evolve; neither sprouted wings nor have the ability to live underground) were permitted to take part of the event.

The same is happening for the second Descend. Only, we are expecting a bigger number of people. Also, instead of just a market, the Governor and the Council decided to put up a Carnival, which will feature a market, a tournament and a ball. At first I thought it was an unnecessary, even impractical idea. But these are dark times and people crave the taste of the past’s normalcies and festivities. And this only happens every three years.

I drew on Woodbury’s underground map where the Builders must put the new passageway. After giving a few directions and supervising them for a bit. I went for Judith at the children’s quarters. She ran immediately after seeing me.

“Tonight, Emyli!” she told me excitedly. I nodded. She looks more and more like Lori each day.

“Have you prepared your tokens?” I asked her. “There might be a few things you’d like to trade for at the market.”

With a wide grin, she showed me what seemed to be bracelets she made by braiding differently colored threads.

“That’ll do,” I told her.

***

Later that night, I held Judith’s hand and Hope’s with my other. People gathered, formed a circle at the Center’s middle and looked up to the sky with anticipation. After a few minutes, the sound of fluttering wings filled the air. The Flyers created a sea of feathers in the sky and they landed, one by one.

Daryl was one of the first to reach the ground. He tucked his silver-gray wings and walked towards me. There was a grave look on his face. This had reaffirmed my worry.

We were fearful already—Daryl and I—and we had not known yet that a bloodbath was to be staged at the Center of Woodbury.

***

Next chapter: We get to be at the Carnival.

***

Author’s Notes
First, I’m so sorry, guys for the long overdue update. I was busy outlining New World and my other TWD fanfic, Walk with Me (please do check it out as well if you have time; Emyli is also there and you can get to know her more by reading that fic): http://www.roamersan...1-walk-with-me/

I’m keeping each chapter short so I don’t get to overload my readers with too much information about this Alternate Universe I have created for The Walking Dead (and trust me, it is pretty elaborate; I have drawn maps and will introduce a handful of new characters and…creatures). And this is also so that I can put updates faster. I plan to post new chapter once a week, if not twice. (Hopefully I won’t be too busy at work—or get a writer’s block.) You may send me your questions if you have some, by the way.

P.S
Please also do check this link out; if you want to know how I imagine Emyli. I had my doll cosplay her: http://i158.photobuc...zps0403aea7.jpg

And thank you so much to those who have reviewed/commented!

[the Walkin Dude]

I am liking this hopefully Daryl can prevent this or minimize it, if they do it i don't see him staying with them and see him going rogue.

[Imahica]

I am liking this hopefully Daryl can prevent this or minimize it, if they do it i don't see him staying with them and see him going rogue.

Yey! Thank you so much. Yeah, I can easily imagine Daryl losing cool on this one.

[Imahica]

NEW WORLD

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction

Previously: Maggie, Andrea and Emyli killed the three Walkers who were clawing the ground the previous night. Emyli pre-empted the carnage about to happen at the Center.

Chapter 4: Flight of Angels

The children’s quarter of Burrow 2 is composed of twenty-four kids. I and Linda—the lanky, brunette Carer of the group—have accompanied Judith and the other children cross the passageway to Burrow 6. They were to join the children of the last burrow for rehearsals; the kids were supposed to sing at the Carnival.

“That’s indeed a very fascinating, not to mention stimulating question, little lad, Hope! Riveting! Steering indeed. Thought-provoking!”

I exchanged glances with Linda. We had reached the entrance to the children’s quarters. There was no denying that Teacher was in the middle of a lesson.

The Carer of Burrow 6’s children, Teacher, was never called by another name. I heard from some that he used to be a music instructor. From my observations, he could easily be a walking thesaurus.

I stepped forward the area’s oval-shaped opening and peeked. I saw Teacher’s messy gray hair. Messy: Like a bird nested on and abandoned it in a hurry. On his wrinkly face, a boyish, mischievous look was still visible. I also saw Hope, small and shining, standing at the front row of sitting children. His eyes were wide and expecting.

“You asked about the beasts on Land and the fiends of the Skies,” Teacher continued. His grin was gone and was replaced by a grave expression. He was whispering his words and the cave-like room echoed it. “The creatures that feed on us, people. Human beings. Walking living. And yet we call these predators Hyenas and Vultures…names of animals who feed on the deceased. Why? Why indeed?” Teacher paused and paced about on his spot. When his back was turned on the children, he suddenly looked back and said: “Perhaps, young fellas…” Teacher turned his body so he’s facing them again. He looked at Hope. “Possibly, my trifling, small boy…it is for the reason that we have all been dead.”

The children remained quiet and listening. Linda got beside me, frowning at Teacher.

“We all carry the disease,” Teacher said grimly. “Thus, we are the deceased. We are living, yet we are infected by death. When we die, we turn and become the undead. So conceivably…when these Vultures and Hyenas feast on the body of the living, they are essentially devouring a corpse—”

“Enough,” Linda stormed inside the quarters and pulled Teacher to a corner. I followed her to try to calm her down. I threw a look at Hope that told him we will talk about this later.

“What are you doing, old fart!?” Linda snapped at him, trying to contain herself, trying to be inaudible to the children.

Teacher looked at her and grinned his boyish grin. “Teaching?” he shrugged.

“Not. You’re corrupting the minds of these kids!”

“Am I?” He was stubborn. “Oh…but isn’t it that teaching has always been like that? Destroying, crushing, trashing lies by shedding light to the truth. Giving out facts. Instilling knowledge.”

“These are still children, Teacher,” Linda argued through gritted teeth.

Teacher’s face became serious. “No one was too young to learn that the world was not flat.”

“But not in that kind of language!” Linda said. “Your language.”

“Linda, stop it,” I told her calmly. “The children have the right to know.”

“Emyli!” she looked at me unbelievingly. I felt Teacher looked at me with his grin. I avoided his eyes.

“So…so what’s next? We give these children guns? We send them to war as soldiers?” Linda challenged me.

I had to pause and think…and did not answer her. For my response might not calm her down.

***

Linda decided to stay in Burrow 6 to watch the rehearsals; she didn’t want to leave the kids all alone with Teacher. I, in turn, ascended to the ground after saying see you later to Judith and Hope and went to the camp at the center-river point. As I walked, I could see the Center already swimming in colors, flooded with people putting up tents and flags and banners, carrying merchandises and shouting greetings to each other.

I reached the heavily guarded camp. This serves as the check-point and receiving area of Woodbury. It is a huge site where we keep our dogs and horses. It also has rooms of different sizes for guests and conventions. A guard accompanied me to a spacious room where families of different settlements were received. I went in. There were around sixty people and about thirty kids and infants with small, budding feather wings on their backs. They were the foreign partakers of this Descend’s Flight of Angels.

I walked around and greeted each family. I uttered some warm welcomes and a few words of comfort. I knew I was doing a lousy job. Andrea had recommended me to the council for this task. She said I was perfect for it because Landers from different sections know me and that’s supposed to make them comfortable. Actually, it’s more of like, they have “heard of me” rather than “know me”. Heard of me as the Architect: the builder of the capital’s burrows. I drew it, not built it, I had said many times but as Maggie remarked: “people hear and say what they want to”; and “builder makes you sound more powerful than drafter”. When I confronted Andrea and asked her what’s the real reason she assigned me to this task, she just shrugged and jokingly said, “you need to hone your people-skills, ice queen. You never know when we’ll gonna need you to run for elections.”

As I went around, I noticed a family sitting on a corner away from everyone. I walked towards them. One mother, one older sister and one little boy—probably aged one.

“Would you like me to get you anything?” I had asked them. The mother suddenly put protective arms around her two offspring. “Refreshments? Blanket? Change of clothes?”

For a moment they just stared at me wearing their scared faces. I was about to leave them be when the little boy uttered, “bread!”

I curled my lips into a smile. I signaled to a Carer assigned to food to give some to this family. The three of them were given water and sandwiches in no time. The mother and the little boy ate but the older sister continued to look at me.

“Where did you come from?” Seeing them with tattered clothes and dirty hair and faces, it was probably somewhere far. The desert or—

“The Wastelands,” the sister murmured.

It was my turn to stare to conceal my surprise. That was my first time to actually see Landers who came from that section.

“You are the Architect, aren’t you?” The girl of about sixteen or seventeen stood up and boldly asked. Her sandwich was left untouched on the floor. The mother panicked and tried to pull her back down by the arm but the girl said it’s alright. She looked at me again: from head to toe. “Long, black hair…a vacant stare on a youthful-looking face. You are the Architect.”

I nodded at the young girl with dirty, red locks and wild eyes that seemed to have seen too much. “Terrible things are happening from where we came from,” she whispered. I held her stare and listened. “You heard?”

“I hear things,” I answered vaguely. Wasteland people are rumored to be members of cults. It was said that they practice offering human tributes to Walkers and Hyenas—as if they’d lay low for a while if they were to have a ration of human meat.

“We came here not just to send Louie to safety.” She looked at her brother biting from the sandwich. The young girl stepped closer to me. Somehow she didn’t seem so young anymore—something that I have seen a lot of times as this is what dark times do: it robs the young of innocence and proper childhood.

“We have heard of you and Woodbury,” she continued to whisper. “About this colony’s stronghold and how it was you who built it.”

“I didn’t,” I immediately answered, keeping my voice low as well. “I drew it. And these burrows do not make a stronghold.”

“If you didn’t draw it, you think these burrows will be here as they are right now?”

“No,” I replied sharper than I intended to do so. “It should follow a draft. You have to know where to place things. And how big or narrow. Or else it will—”

“Crumble,” she completed for me. She looked at me with those wild eyes. “So yes, Architect, you built it.”

I had to narrow my eyes on her. Just who is this girl?

“When was the last time this colony was attacked?” she asked with a disgusted look on her face. “And when I say attacked I did not mean Walkers clawing on the ground, or Hyenas being sighted, perhaps killing a few of your people. No. I meant Walkers, a herd of them, clutching your friends in your sleep. A clan of Hyenas snatching your children. I meant you and your people having to watch while the others get eaten. I meant watching your settlement fall and being powerless.”

I had to avert her eyes. Woodbury was built about five years ago—and the last attack happened on our second year; that was only because the top ground was not yet completely fortified.

“Can’t remember?” the girl mocked. “Well, Architect, out there—out of this stronghold, Landers still die every day. Settlements get crushed and overran every other week.”

I felt her hand grabbed my arm. I looked back to her. She held my stare. “We are seeking refuge,” she said firmly with a pleading look in her eyes—but she tried not to let that show. “Not just us but a lot of other Landers as well.” She shook her head. “The Flyers aren’t coming to save us.” The girl took another step towards me and put her head beside mine. “But the dead are dancing and they are coming for us.”

Her whisper sent shivers to my spine but not as much as her message did. The redhead let go of my arm and returned to her little brother’s side and ate her sandwich in silence.

***

It was almost time for the Carnival to open. All the tents were set-up on the Center. Lights were lit and sounds were played—and warriors were sent to guard the perimeter from Walkers and Hyenas who will definitely get attracted by the lights and sounds.

The people of Woodbury had assembled for mass ascend to the ground. I have requested for Judith and Hope to be with me during the opening ceremony so we got to ascend before the others.

“Are you ready?” I asked Hope. He looked at me with his scared, gray eyes. “You want me to carry you?” The little boy frowned at me and blinked away his fearful look. “I want to walk,” he said.

The three of us entered the lift. Hope had to cover his eyes the moment we surfaced. It was night already but to a child who got used to darkness, even shadows can disrupt the sight. He was about to see the life above the ground for the first time. I assumed he would be fearful. I was surprised when the moment his eyes finally adjusted to the surroundings, it only took him three seconds staring at the sky and then he ran to the source of lights on the ground. I and Judith had to chase him, running out of the woods and towards the Center.

Hope stopped just a few steps in front of the Center. The giant circular platform was full of people of different clothing. Stalls and small tents were scattered and everyone seemed to be engaged in barter. When we caught up with Hope, he instantly looked at me with gleaming eyes.

“See, Emyli?” he said excitedly tugging the knee of my pants, “I’m not afraid!” I smiled at him. Hope turned to look at the Center. I went to his side and held his hand. Judith followed and the three of us stepped to the platform.

“Okay, keep beside me,” I reminded them. “You’re going to be with me for the opening.”

Judith looked at me with a disappointed face. We were walking past the stalls. I knew how much she already wanted to check-out the market.

“We’ll have so much time later,” I told Judith, reading her face. I smiled at her. “And with your dad and brother.”

“And Daryl!” Hope reminded rather irritably, pulling my arm. “You told me I’m going to see him!”

“Yes you will,” I told him and he calmed down.

We reached the center of the Center: the Landing Point. The spot was enclosed by rope rails to keep people away. Andrea and the rest of the council were already there.

“I heard that you’re doing well with your task,” Andrea greeted me but she was looking and exchanging smiles with Judith and Hope.

I frowned. “I don’t think I will soon be winning any elections.”

“Good,” Andrea answered. “The Governor will be thrilled to know you’re not a competition.”

It made my frown go away. “Where is he anyway? He should be here, right?”

“Nope. This is your moment. He will be presenting himself on the tournament’s opening at midnight.” Andrea tilted her head. “You know him.”

We all stayed there, standing, waiting. After several minutes, the Flight’s partakers from Woodbury arrived accompanied by guards. I believe we had around twenty children aged zero to three who were born Flyers. Them and their parents and Carers gathered, surrounded the Landing Point. (“Emyli! That’s Ron,” Hope said pointing at a three-year old with wings. “My best friend…” the two boys waved at each other with sad smiles. “We promised we won’t cry because we will see each other again, right?”)They were followed by the foreign partakers. A guard walked towards me and whispered that everyone’s in place and we could start. He removed the rope rails.

“How many do we have?” Andrea asked.

“Fifty-two,”I told her. I was looking at the sky.

“Fifty-two in three years,” she repeated, thinking. “That’s too low. I was expecting about a hundred.”

“Perhaps some of them didn’t make it,” I muttered thinking about what the redhead girl said earlier. It made my heart pound. “Dead. Or too scared.” I looked at Andrea and whispered but firmly: “Or to wise to not trust the Flyers.”

Andrea sighed and did not have an answer for that. She lifted her head and turned to the sky. “Anytime now,” she said.

The music died and was replaced by silence. Barters and entertainment were stopped and everyone surrounded the Landing Point. People took turns watching the sky and resting their necks.

“Where’s Maggie?” Judith asked in a low voice.

“Burrow 6 point seven-twenty,” Andrea replied. “I heard they’re fending a herd.”

“And Glenn?” I asked.

“Flew in the morning,” Andrea said. “As Ambassador, he’ll be leading the Carers of the Skies.”

I nodded and looked up.

A few seconds after, we heard sounds of metal. It was definitely from high above but our ears can hear it. The central floor of the Square is a gate. They were opening it. What came next were the sounds of fluttering wings.

I turned to the people. They looked at me expectantly. “Tonight, our little ones will fly,” I declared. My voice could be heard in the sea of silence, carried by boats made of air and vibrations. “This is this Descend’s Flight of Angels.”

In no time, the Flyers appeared—they were of white and gray and brown feathers. The sound of wings surged as the winged-people flew down. I looked at Hope. His eyes were wide, unable to take them away from what he was seeing. And I couldn’t blame him. This was not the first time I saw this but it had easily taken my breath away too. It was beautiful and unbelievable.

The first Flyer to reach the landing was Glenn. He was glowing under the moon. He smiled at us. I turned to Teacher who was standing beside me holding a baby. I reached for the infant and held it in my arms. I stepped forward, towards Glenn.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered. “I’ll be with Maggie and you guys.”

I nodded. I handed the little angel to him.

Glenn half kneeled and jumped and took flight. The other Flyers had also reached the ground and the parents and Carers of the Woodbury had followed my lead in handing the children to the Flyers. One by one, the children were ferried to the Skies. The Flyers ascending and descending overlapped and it was such as scene to behold.

When the last child was handed over, we heard sounds of wings again. The Flight of Angels was to be followed by the descend of warriors. And what we witnessed next was even grander.

The warriors’ wings were fiercer and louder. They were descending in a circular motion creating an illusion of a hurricane made of plumes and fur, and birds and people. I have never seen them ride a giant fowl before and it was just too beautiful. One rider was leading his winged-beast boldly: They flew down, encircling the descend with sharp tugs and turns. The Landers were making “ohh!” sounds.

Then another rider caught our attention. The bird was flying, head down, rushing downwards like a fierce bullet. The fowl and its rider tailed the first pair of ferocious warrior and bird as if challenging them as they indulge the Landers with their own wild moves. When the second pair finally caught up with the first one, it became a race towards the ground. Both were flying down, fast, head first.

Just when we thought the first pair was winning, the rider of the second bird stood and jumped. For a second, we thought he would fall. Some Landers had caught their mouths with their palms, suppressing screams. But then the warrior spread his silver-gray wings and lightly brought himself to the ground. The first rider and its bird landed a few seconds after.

The other warriors had landed as well, followed by civilian Flyers. I pulled Judith and Hope as I walked towards the center. We had to reach them before we lose them in the crowd.

“No fair, man! You said you’d let me land first,” a good-looking young man with waist-long ponytail and a diagonal scar on the lower left cheek said, frowning after getting off his fowl. He was the first rider, approaching, confronting the second one.

“Changed my mind,” said the silver-winged warrior who outflew him.

We were a few meters away from them. I chuckle at their conversation. I looked back at the two warriors and the long-haired one met my eyes.

“Emyli!”

The silver-winged Flyer turned around but long-haired was faster.

Carl reached me first and hugged me fiercely. I almost fell back because of the impact. I had to let go of Judith’s and Hope’s hands. He was holding me tightly around the waist; I hugged him back, awkwardly.

From Carl’s shoulder I could see Daryl tucked his silver-gray wings and walked towards me with a grave look on his face.

***

Next chapter: …and they have a lot of catching up to do.

***

Author’s Note:

Hi guys!

So sorry for the long-overdue update. And just when I said in my last chapter that I’m gonna keep each one short, I published this—obviously so much longer than its predecessors.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

I’d love to hear from you so please leave me a comment

[the Walkin Dude]

Enjoyed it, take your time very interesting approach, looking forward to your next chapter.

[Imahica]

Enjoyed it, take your time very interesting approach, looking forward to your next chapter.

Thank you so much for always leaving a comment; this means a lot to me

[Imahica]

NEW WORLD

A WALKING DEAD Fanfiction


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Previously: Emyli was tasked to lead the Flight of Angels—an opening ceremony to the Descend where children with wings born on Land are ferried to the Skies. This was followed by the landing of Skies' warriors. Daryl and the others have finally descended.


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Chapter 5: Reunion at the Carnival


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"Emyli, you're still so small, you didn't even reach my chin this time." He continued to squeeze me tightly—and yeah, the top of my head was a few millimetres below his chin.

Carl let go of me—I honestly thought he wasn't going to.

"You have to stop growing taller," I told him. Carl smiled his boyish smile. I should say the scar on his cheek suited him well. And paired with that long hair, the lady Flyers must be throwing themselves at him.

I returned my gaze to the people behind Carl.

The music returned and the crowd begun to disperse and got back to their businesses. The council stepped forward to greet the Captain of the Sky Army's Offense Troop: Rick Grimes; he seemed to be pretty upset about something. Three other sky warriors stood closely to him. And there was another figure, someone wearing a hood….

"Emyli?" Carl had been talking animatedly but I didn't catch a thing he said. "Oh," he groaned after turning around and seeing who he thought I was looking at. "And here comes Daryl." Carl distanced himself as if giving way. Judith ran to Daryl and he patted her head saying, "ass-kicker". Carl pulled Judith to his side afterwards.

"Ahm…hey," Daryl muttered awkwardly; finally he was standing in front of me.

I averted his eyes as he rubbed his neck. "Hey," I said.

I stole a glance at him. Lucky, he was looking at something else, probably groping for words. Daryl's hair was longer than the last time I saw him. No wonder, three years have passed since then. He also still had unkempt scruff on his face. Probably practical because of the cold weather up there. And there were more lines on his face—

"Emyli!" Hope tugged my arm and whispered impatiently. He looked at me with wide eyes. Then he looked at Daryl.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "I promised you you'll see him, so here he is." I turned to Daryl who was then staring at me and Hope with narrowed eyes. "Hope, this is—"

"Daryl!" Hope completed for me. "The Hero of the Skies! First Lieutenant of the Sky Army's Offense Troop. Daryl Dixon!"

Daryl stared at me, confused. Then he knelt in front of Hope with an amused face.

"Well, ahm, yeah," he muttered, unsure. "Tha' was sort of…me."

"Emyli told me stories about you."

Daryl's eyes found me again, I thought he had a lot of questions, just not sure what to ask first.

"I am Hope," the little boy happily told Daryl. He held his chin up and extended his arm.

Daryl's lips twitched to a half-smile. He took Hope's palm and shook it.

"Well, ya' already know me, little man," he said. I saw his eyes narrowed as he stared at Hope, studying him closely.

Daryl let go of Hope's hand and stood up leaving the little boy with a very wide grin on his face. Daryl turned sideways so Hope couldn't see him. Then he told me through gritted teeth: "Boy ain't lookin' a bit like you."

I stared at him, torturing him by not answering. "It's because he's not mine," I finally said when I saw him trying hard to suppress his sneer. If he was relieved with my answer, he didn't show it.

"Hey, Hope!" It was Carl's voice. I turned and saw him knelt in front of the boy as well. "Did Emyli also tell you about me? Do you know who I am?"

Hope stepped back, startled. "You're the warrior that Daryl beat earlier," he said meekly.

"Oh, Emyli!" Carl groaned. He stood up. "You didn't tell him about me?"

"I'm sorry," I told him. "Hope, this is Carl. He's Judith's older brother."

Carl extended his arm and shook Hope's hand.

"Everything good?"

We all turned around and saw Rick.

"Daddy!" Judith ran and hugged him. Rick stepped forward after, to my direction. The look on his face made my skin crawl. Whatever caused him to look that way must really be terrible. He tried to smile at me though, as we gave each other a gentle hug.

I didn't have to ask what's wrong. When we pulled away, I stared at Rick and tried to read him. He just put a firm hand on my shoulder and pursed his lips—and all I could see were more lines etched on his face than the last time I saw him; he was as scruffy as Daryl but he had more visible scars. He turned to his second-in-command.

"We're going to see the Governor, they say he's still underground," Rick told Daryl in a low voice.

I didn't know why but Daryl glanced at me before answering Rick. "Wha' do ye' need me for?" he asked. "You 'ave Ronnie and three warriors. You said it will be better if ye' talk to 'im one-on-one."

Rick tapped Daryl's arm and whispered to him, as if I couldn't hear with my sensitive ears.

"Well, ahm…it's Ronnie," I heard Rick said. "She said she'll feel safer if you're with her."

Daryl scoffed and suddenly walked up beside me and grabbed me by the wrist.

"I need to talk to 'er," Daryl snarled at Rick. I guessed he was pertaining to me. "Tell Ronnie—"

"Why don't you tell me yourself?"

We turned around. It was a tall girl, with slim figure and long, blond, wavy hair. She was very pretty and perhaps a little older than me: mid-thirties. I was surprised when she approached me.

"You must be Emyli," she said with a smile. And then she rummaged through her bag hanging from her shoulder. She was wearing a cloak; then I realized she was the hooded figure I saw earlier beside Rick. "Daryl told me a lot about you," she continued, still sorting through the bag.

I saw Carl with a satisfied grin on his face while Judith, beside him, had her narrowed eyes focused on the girl. I turned to Rick: he shrugged innocently and then crossed his arms. Hope was beside me holding the end of my shirt.

I looked at Daryl with my blank face; my eyes were asking the questions I couldn't speak. He didn't look back and kept his head down. He was still holding my wrist. And he did not let go.

"Here," the woman said with her arm reaching towards me. She was handing me a small bottle with pink liquid inside. "It's shampoo," she explained. I took the bottle from her. "Daryl told me you have this beautiful, long, black hair." She looked at him and smiled. I caught Daryl instantly avoiding her eyes and sighing exasperatedly.

"Thank you," I said, not really sure how I should react.

"I'm Veronica, by the way." She offered her hand and I took it. She shook mine enthusiastically. "Ronnie. They call me that." Her expressions suddenly became serious. "We are going to have a meeting with the Governor. It's really important that Daryl is there. Do you mind-?"

"Oh, not at all," I said at once and tried to pull my arm from Daryl but he held on tight.

"Thank you," she told me, eying Daryl's hand around my wrist. "It was really nice to finally meet you, Emyli."

I just nodded. She turned around and walked. The three warriors surrounded and followed her. Rick looked expectantly at Daryl.

"I'll be right there," he told him with his rough voice. Rick sighed and after hugging and telling Judith they'll see each other again later, he followed the woman and the three warriors.

I pulled my arm free from Daryl. Carl ushered Hope to their side engaging him in a conversation about the birds they rode earlier and how these fowls were trained to return to the Skies. I felt Carl, Hope and Judith stirred, turning around and stepping a few steps away so they can pretend not to hear or see us.

"Well," I muttered looking at anything but Daryl. "The girl doesn't look a bit like you."

"Yeah?" he snarled but keeping his voice down. "'Cause she ain't mine."

That made me look at him. Daryl sighed tiredly. "Look, I'll see ya' later."

He didn't leave until I said okay. He stared down at me but I didn't give the answer easily and I looked away. Then I felt his hand on my ear as he put my hair behind it. It was then that I said alright.


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I, Hope, Carl and Judith had fun checking out the market. Carl bought us corns by trading his well-made arrows with the seller from the plains. Judith traded her bracelets for shell earrings. (We were supposed to barter with a Lander from Red Shore but Peter the Ferrier came out of nowhere and told us he had prettier shells for less number of bracelets—and that his were from the islands. So we traded with him and Judith got three pairs of very nice shell earrings.)

Hope wanted to watch a puppet show. The tickets were a little pricey but when I showed my sketches to the tent owner, he instantly looked and studied my face and exclaimed: "The Architect!" He took one drawing carefully and instantly gave back the rest to me; as if those papers were too valuable to remain in his possession.

I had to pause and stare at the drawing the man took. That was a sketch of one of the many Walkers I took down the night Hope's original settlement was attacked. We had fought and killed brutally out of rage. After the carnage, I felt cruel and dirty; like I didn't have any difference with Hyenas that tear and mutilate their prey just so they can hear it cry. My touch could only recall the rotting flesh of corpses we had massacred. And the only thing I could do to bleed out the monstrous feel that nested on my palms was to draw it.

"Please take these, too." I took two more drawings of the carnage and handed it to the man. I don't want to remember that night anymore. And I don't want Hope to see these.

"Oh no, ma'am, please," the owner babbled nervously but nevertheless, he checked the papers I was handing him without touching them. "They're just too valuable. Too beautiful-! Well, I meant not the subject or the scene—but the way these were drawn! Too detailed. Too real! As if I could feel them if I so merely touch it!"

My three companions were looking at me, confused.

"Please, I insist," I told the squeaky tent owner. He stopped and stared at me as if checking if I wasn't joking. I showed him my serious face and after taking a deep breath, he carefully took the drawings from me.

"Ohh," he moaned looking at the papers. "I will treasure these, ma'am. Frame them, hang them on my house!"

The man pushed the opening of the tent a little and slid his head inside. "Nick! We have special guests! You know what to do!" Then he stood straight again and faced us. "Here," he handed each of us drinks and fried potatoes. "On the house," he said smiling. Carl, Judith and Hope went inside the tent. Just when I was about to get in as well, he gave me a small piece of paper. "Marty's the name, ma'am," he said. I looked at the card: it had his name and his address. "If ever you visit the city and you'd need help—of any kind!" he tapped his chest and smiled showing his two large front teeth.

I pocketed the card. "Thank you, Marty. I'll remember it."

The show lasted for forty minutes. It was actually very good.

"The puppet Flyers were so cute!" Judith cried.

"And I liked the part where the Flyers sang," Carl exclaimed as the four us walked away from the tent. He was looking more and more like the boy he was when I first met him.

"Descending, descending, coming home! The Land is for the Living. We are coming home!" Carl, Judith and Hope sang happily matching the melody with the stomping of their feet.

"I swear it's so good!" Carl said animatedly. "We never sang it that way, really. Never heard warriors sing that song. It was always the Carers, the girls who sang it. And they always did in the original melody, slow. It was just too sad. It sounded better as a marching song."

"Like a battle cry!" Hope agreed eagerly with raised fist.

"Yeah! Yeah, you're right, Hope!" Carl responded instantly. I had this feeling he wanted to win Hope's favour after discovering that the little boy sees Daryl as a hero. "Like a battle cry!"

"We are coming home!" the three of them bellowed together.

People's heads turned.

"Sorry, sorry," Carl apologized to no one in particular. "Just having a good time."

We had walked back to the Landing Point that had accumulated a number of long queues for registration booths. We were standing at the end of the line for bow and arrow; Carl wanted to join the tournament.

"I'll definitely beat Daryl this time," Carl promised. Hope looked like he was going to say something but he didn't have the chance to speak it as Teacher suddenly appeared.

"There you are," he sighed. "Found you…located you. Finally. At long last." Teacher turned to me. "Emyli, I must take these children to the camp as we need a final rehearsal for their song number. You know, the last and ultimate practice in preparation for their performance."

Judith and Hope groaned loudly and looked at me and Carl probably pleading to make Teacher go away.

"Don't worry," Carl assured them. "We'll see you later. Dad said something about having dinner with everyone. Us, dad, Maggie, Glenn, Andrea—"

"And Daryl," Hope added stubbornly.

"And him, yeah."

I and Carl watched Judith and Hope walked with Teacher to the camp's direction.

It never occurred to me that it could possibly be the last time I'd ever see them.


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Next chapter: Gifts, kisses and scars.

[the Walkin Dude]

Another good chapter Imahica, enjoyed it.

[Imahica]

Another good chapter Imahica, enjoyed it.

Yay! Thank you so much; I'm so glad you did.