The Elder stood over the pool, the soft glow of its water illuminating every wrinkle of her hunched body— at least those that Lyo could see from where he stood at her side within the little cave. Across from him sat the twins, Ymiv and Thea, nicknamed that not for their relation but for their uncanny similarities in all ways imaginable except for the mismatched yellow and purple ribbons at their throats. They lounged against the wall and each other, Thea lazily clinging to Ymiv’s shoulder, their matching white hair tumbling over each other’s laps and to the ground, pooling just like the water in the center of the chamber. Beside them stood Korus, arms crossed over his chest, body stock-straight as he watched the Elder nervously, eyes wide as they quickly flitted between her and the pool. His own ribbon peeked out from between his folded arms, green at his wrist. To Lyo’s side stood Alyondra, tall and reserved as ever, barring the smattering of red that colored her blue cheeks in her own sort of anxious excitement, matching perfectly with the red ribbon tied into her white hair. 

It had been a long time since they’d all gathered here. Lyo couldn’t remember how many days it had been, but he knew it was long enough for the newest member of their village, Korus, to have fully settled in, almost like he’d been there all along. 

He hadn’t, of course.

Just like everyone else in the village, Korus had arrived through the pool they all now stood around. They always came with nothing— nameless, memoryless, all except for their color, decided for them before they even emerged from the pool’s soft waters.

This was why they gathered there now, because the rock that told them everything, even the Elder, had dictated that someone new would be emerging. Thea had been the first to spot its change, languidly nudging her twin in the shoulder with one hand and pointing with the other as its smooth surface shifted to a bright orange. The Elder had found out shortly after, and thus gathered everyone else together so that they could stand in this little space and watch. 

“Does it always take so long?” Korus hissed to whoever might’ve been paying attention at that moment. 

Alyondra straightened beside Lyo. Thea lifted her head from Ymiv’s shoulder and Ymiv narrowed his eyes. 

“Silence!” the Elder scolded, not moving from her bent position. 

Korus flinched, returning to his stiff posture as he pressed his mouth shut, nodding quickly despite the fact that the Elder still wasn’t looking at him. 

They’d been in there for a while, Lyo was sure. He knew from experience, however, that this was nothing new. There’d been times before when it’d taken longer— namely when Ymiv had arrived. That had been a long afternoon. 

The soft light of the pool intensified, almost as if in reaction to Korus’s question. The Elder sat up and backed away from it. She motioned for the rest of them to do the same, though it was difficult in such an enclosed space. Korus pressed himself to the wall beside the twins, eyes widening to a comical degree as he watched. Lyo and Alyondra did the same on their side. Thea leaned forward despite the command, watching curiously as she idly brought a hand up to touch the purple ribbon around her neck. 

Lyo could tell what she was thinking: “Where would this new person wear their ribbon?” It was one of the few things they got to choose for themselves after emerging from the pool. Korus had been confused and not very creative with his own ribbon placement, choosing to wear it around his wrist. Thea had simply rolled her eyes at him. Alyondra had been the one to help Lyo with his own blue one, which he now wore around his ankle. 

“Thea,” the Elder warned coolly.

Thea pretended not to hear her, leaning back against Ymiv and whispering something into his ear. A small smirk tugged at his mouth at whatever she said to him. 

“Children,” the Elder continued. “Behave yourselves.”

Once again, the light from the pool intensified, pulsing steadily as it bounced off the walls. 

Alyondra grabbed Lyo’s wrist as if to steady herself, despite the fact that she’d seen this happen more than any of the rest of them. He wondered sometimes who she might have known before the rest of them had come along, who she had seen come and go while she had to stay. He’d tried asking before, but the only response he’d ever gotten was a melancholic smile and a shake of her head. 

A dramatic gasp from the other side of the space drew his attention back to Thea, who was once again leaning forward, though this time there was actually a reason to look. The Elder had returned to the pool, kneeling before it as she reached her hands into the luminescent water. Lyo felt his stomach lurch as he watched her grab onto something, and then pull that something up from the glowing depths

It was a boy. He sat up gasping, choking and coughing on the water. Lyo couldn’t tell if there were tears streaming from his eyes or if it was just the liquid of the pool running down his face. He was naked just like they always were upon emerging from the pool, wet and cold and eternally blue-skinned. Short white hair clung to his cheeks, the same color as the rest of them. 

“Your name will be Erell,” the Elder said suddenly, matter-of-factly. A declaration, something not to be argued with. 

The boy looked up at her, blinking slowly, and then around at the rest of them. 

Erell, Lyo repeated in his head, narrowing his eyes. 

#

Alyondra herded them all out of the cave later that evening, once Erell had been dried and clothed. The whole task had been left to them to do, with Alyondra taking charge as per usual, the Elder having left them with the ribbon before departing. Korus had hovered around Erell the whole time, pushy and nosey, until Lyo had finally spoken up and told him to leave him alone. 

They all sat together now, gathered atop Thea’s favorite flat stone, much to her displeasure. Lyo often found her here, sunning herself in whichever light hung in the sky at that given time, her long hair absorbing it. 

“So you always have to wear it, but you choose where,” Thea explained to Erell. She held his orange ribbon in her hand, lazily offering it toward him. 

Erell glanced hesitantly at her hand and then to the ribbon around her neck.

Thea rolled her eyes, sighing loudly. “It’s really not such a big deal,” she drawled dramatically as she flopped onto her back. “I don’t understand why you boys are always so hesitant.”

Ymiv reached over her prone body, taking the orange ribbon from her hand and offering it to Erell. He took it gingerly, but not without casting a glance toward Lyo in search of some sort of an explanation. Lyo shrugged, unsure of what she was talking about. Korus had been the only one to struggle, and as far as he knew Thea had no knowledge of how his own decision had gone. 

Korus spoke up now, saying, “Why don’t you wear it on your waist? Like a belt?” he demonstrated, pretending to wrap an invisible ribbon around his own waist.

Alyondra lifted her eyebrows in concern and Ymiv snorted in amusement. “I don’t think his pants are falling down enough for that,” he joked.

Korus sputtered unintelligibly, face quickly turning red in embarrassment. Ymiv grinned.

Erell looked between them all, the hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. 

“Don’t listen to them,” Lyo said. “None of them ever have any good ideas.”

Erell turned to him then. “Where do you think I should put it, then?”

Lyo frowned. He’d never actually helped choose before, that job was usually left to Thea since she claimed to enjoy it. He looked down at his ankle. “Where do you feel it’d fit…?”

Erell was quiet for a moment before asking, “Has anyone ever worn one around their leg?”

Thea made an awful noise as she rolled onto her side, bumping against Ymiv. “Of course they have.”

“Who?”

She scoffed. “How should I know? Obviously none of us have.”

“Ignore her,” Lyo reassured him. “You can wear it around your leg, if you want.”

He considered the ribbon again, and then in a small voice said, “Okay.”

#

“Lyo!” Erell called to him the next morning. 

Lyo had barely made his way out of the little building he slept in every night. He stopped at the sound of his name. Not too far away, he caught sight of Erell emerging from his own sleeping quarters. He quickly noted the smudge of orange that was his ribbon, now tied around his thigh. He also immediately noted that it was on the leg opposite his own blue ribbon. He took my advice, Lyo thought to himself, before quickly choosing to ignore that detail as Erell stopped in front of him, glancing over the other boy’s shoulder instead for a distraction. 

“Erell, wait!” Korus (the oddly conveniently-timed distraction) called as he emerged from the same building. They’d all collectively agreed (forced) Erell to sleep in the same proximity as Korus last night. Lyo wondered how well that had actually gone, considering the one night he’d shared the same space with Korus after his arrival had not been one of rest. He’d made it clear the following morning that he would be returning to his prior sleeping arrangement with Alyondra.

Erell turned, studying him quizzically as he caught up. “What is it?”

Korus didn’t get the chance to reply before tripping over himself, falling face first onto the cloudy pathway at their feet. Erell winced in pity as he took a few steps back, though Lyo could tell it was pity not because the impact had hurt Korus, but rather that he’d embarrassed himself. 

Everything around them barring buildings, water, plants, and the occasional rock was made of clouds. In fact, Lyo had often heard the Elder refer to where they lived as the clouds. He didn't know why they were called that, just that they were soft and white and seemingly endless. So no matter how many times Korus fell over, as long as it wasn’t onto a stray rock, building, or puddle, the only thing he would end up hurting was his ego.

 Korus recovered quickly, sitting up and asking, “Where are you off to?”

“I was going to go see the Elder,” Erell answered innocently. “She told me to come this morning. I was going to ask Lyo if he could show me the way.”

Lyo hesitated for a moment. He didn’t particularly want to, but he didn’t want Erell to know that either. He wondered why Erell was even asking him, and not someone else. He knew for a fact that Alyondra would be happy to help, though she wasn’t awake yet. Was he asking him just because he was there, or was there some other reason?

Korus looked to Lyo suddenly, his question now aimed at him. 

Lyo squinted at him, happy for yet another distraction. “What? Did you want to come, too?”

Color quickly rose to Korus’s cheeks. He crossed his arms in defiance as he looked away. “N-no!”

“You can if you want,” Erell offered. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind seeing you.”

Lyo resisted the urge to laugh at the idea— he was sure that she would. 

The look Korus gave the two of them, first Erell and then Lyo, made it clear that he at least knew what Lyo would not bring to words. Slowly, he rose to his feet, brushing nonexistent dust from his pants. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Suit yourself,” Lyo said knowingly. “Come on, Erell, I can show you the way there.”

Sometime later, after leading Erell through the sunny pathways that separated their homes from the village center, he pointed past Lyo and asked, “What’s that?” 

Lyo stopped and looked at what he pointed to. They were in the middle of what Alyondra liked to call the “Village Square,” though Ymiv often liked to remind her that it was neither square, nor was what they had quite big enough to be considered a village. Though they weren’t visible right now, the clouds would flatten and widen themselves into pathways whenever someone approached— there was the one they’d come from with all the buildings they slept in, one to that rock Thea was so obsessed with, one to the orchard, and one to the Elder’s…center of activity. He tried his best not to think about it for too long. That was where they were headed toward, though Lyo tried very hard to avoid it as much as possible. 

“The rock?” Lyo said. 

The rock in question was the special rock, the one the Elder would listen to over all other things. Erell went over to it, kneeling so that he could study its flat surface. Unlike all the other rocks Lyo had seen since his arrival, this one sported a completely featureless facade. It mirrored whatever came within its void-like view, all except for when it would change colors in preparation for someone’s coming or going. Lyo had only seen it change with his own eyes a handful of times, once to green for Korus, and another time to yellow for Ymiv. Erell ran his finger over it now, eyes widening as he found that it was completely smooth— flawless, even. Lyo had had a similar reaction upon his first time touching it. To this day, he still wondered how it’d come to be like that, though he knew he’d never find out. 

“It tells us when someone new comes,” Lyo explained. 

Erell looked up at the sound of his voice. “It did that for me?”

Lyo nodded. 

“Does it do anything else?” 

Lyo grimaced. “The Elder will tell you, I’m sure.”

#

Lyo hovered in the entrance to the Elder’s quarters, watching as she explained all there was to know to Erell. As far as he could tell, neither of them knew he was still there, the Elder focused as always on her role of watching over them, and Erell entirely too absorbed in the newness of it all. They sat across from each other on the floor atop a colorful rug that he had a feeling Alyondra might’ve made, though he couldn’t recall her ever doing so.

The Elder lifted a spindly finger. “And now, we come to the manner in which you children come and go.”

Erell cocked his head. “Come and go?”

She nodded. “There comes a time when everyone arrives through the pool, just as you did, and there will come a time when everyone will depart.”

“How does that work?” 

“The rock will deem it so; I cannot tell you further. You will know when the time comes.”

Lyo’s grip on the doorway tightened. He’d heard the same spiel from the Elder when he’d first arrived too, and had received a similar answer when he’d asked. He’d asked Alyondra some days later, once all the waiting to see the rock change color had started to drive him up the wall.

“The rock changes colors when someone new comes,” she’d explained to him.

“But what about when someone leaves?” 

He remembered vividly how she’d hesitated then. “If it changes to the color of someone who is already here, then they must leave.”

“But then what? Do they go back to the pool?”

She’d shook her head. “No, they go somewhere else.”

“And do they ever come back?”

“I don’t know.”

Lyo shivered at the memory, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the sun beating against his back. He needed to leave before Erell or the Elder noticed him.

#

Lyo met up with the rest of them that afternoon, in the orchard. The orchard itself consisted entirely of what the Elder called “orange trees.” None of them had ever questioned why they were called that, since the color of the outsides of the “fruit” were the exact same as the ribbon Erell now wore around his thigh. Lyo had discovered shortly after his arrival, however, that their insides were anything but orange, instead a red closer to that of Alyondra’s ribbon, or the color that would rise to their faces whenever they were embarrassed. 

“Afternoon, Lyo,” Ymiv said to him teasingly as he watched him enter the garden. He lounged in the branches of one tree, long limbs and long hair dripping over the side to the clouds below. He held half of one of the fruits in his hand, cut open so that he had easy access to the pink-red flesh inside. 

Lyo ignored him and walked up to another tree, grabbing the closest orange he could. He ran his thumb over its surface, warm from the afternoon sun and pocked with shallow little dents. The skin’s texture had long grown familiar to him. The oranges were all they ever ate, all they had access to, all they ever needed.

Erell sat at the base of the tree Ymiv was in, beside Korus who held half of an orange, presumably gifted to him from Ymiv. Lyo sat down beside Erell and wordlessly handed his own orange to him. He took it without question, studying the new object.

“Alyondra was looking for you,” came Thea’s voice from somewhere above them. Lyo tilted his head back, finding her perched on a branch above her twin. She held her own orange in her slender fingers, not eating it, just admiring.

“Was she?” Lyo asked, only half paying attention as he watched Erell examine the orange he’d given him. He held it as if it were fragile, like it would break if he touched it the wrong way.

“She heard you went to go see the Elder with Erell, but didn’t stay,” Korus replied from Lyo’s side. He took a bite from his piece of the fruit as he said it, talking with half his mouth full.

Erell watched, eyes wide, and then looked back down at his. He repositioned his hands so he could press his thumbnails into the flesh, pulling it into two pieces. The fruit split messily, its pinkish juice running from the gash and over Erell’s fingers. He quickly looked up at Lyo for help, eyes wide in what Lyo recognized as panic. 

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Ymiv commented. “We should all know how Lyo is.”

Lyo reached over and took the ruined fruit from Erell. It was sticky in his hands as he pulled it apart the rest of the way. He handed half of it back to Erell and kept the other for himself.

“Mm, yes, you’re right,” Thea agreed. “Lyo never sticks around too long if he doesn't have to.” She made a bored noise as she released the orange in her hand, letting it fall to the ground. It rolled in front of the three boys, unharmed, cushioned by the clouds.

#

“You didn’t want to stay?” Alyondra asked Lyo innocently that night. “To keep him company with the Elder?”

He lifted his head from his pillow. 

She was watching him from her own bed, her thin blanket pulled up to her chin. It was always warm in the village, never cold and never too hot, but just enough that they would need a little bit of blanket to cover themselves at night. Alyondra took particular joy in making them, in adorning the village with little bits of color beyond just the blue of their skin and the sky and the white of nearly everything else. She’d made all the ones they had, as well as all the clothing they wore, barring, of course, the ribbons. Those came from the Elder, just like all their other resources, through a means she refused to elaborate upon, much like how they themselves came and went. Lyo had always found that part of the village strange, not to mention the seemingly limitless supply of materials the Elder had as well. 

“I watched them for a bit,” Lyo whispered to her. 

Her eyes, just as red as the ribbon she always wore, caught the light of the moon, illuminated in the darkness. “But what made you leave?”

Lyo turned so that he wouldn’t have to meet her gaze, so that she wouldn’t be able to see the color that rose to his face at her question. 

#

“Are you getting used to it?” Ymiv asked Lyo from the doorway of his and Alyondra’s little house a few days later. 

Lyo’s head jerked up from the little craft she’d left him to do that morning. “What?”

Ymiv leaned leisurely against the doorframe, cheek pressed to its cool surface, one arm lifted above his head so he could grip it. Midday sunlight leaked in from behind him, playing against his form lazily, painting its subject in warmth. 

Lyo squinted at him. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Not a surprise, really— he never knew what Ymiv was talking about, much like his twin.

Ymiv rolled his eyes. “The new one, Erell.”

“What about him? ‘Am I getting used to it?’ Why wouldn’t I?”

“You’ve seemed like you haven’t been,” Ymiv replied. 

“And have you? It’s only the second time you’ve seen someone new arrive, I’m sure you’re having more trouble than I am.” 

Ymiv lifted his chin slightly, tilting it at just the right angle to look down his nose at Lyo. “Your reaction says otherwise.”

Lyo barely managed to choke out an answer before Ymiv was moving into the small space. His tall form slipped behind Lyo’s bed with ease, leaning over one shoulder and grabbing the other as he whispered into Lyo’s ear, “I’m sure only more will change with time.”

#

As far as Lyo knew, Ymiv did not have the ability to predict the future, yet the words he’d murmured into his ear ended up coming true only a few days later— in the worst way Lyo could’ve imagined. 

He was on his way to check in on Erell and his poor sleeping arrangements (courtesy of Korus) that morning, when the rock gave him pause. He watched, hypnotized and a little frightened as its smooth surface rippled with color, shifting through nearly every one Lyo had ever seen, before its swimming tones settled on one, almost at random. They shifted first to an orange he knew it couldn’t be selecting already, then to an indigo that made him start to sweat, and then to a deeper, richer purple. 

Thea, his mind supplied slowly. He gasped at the realization, like his body was processing it slower than the rest of him. He turned back the way he’d come, as if he’d find someone standing there to share in his shock, but only found it empty. 

He had to tell the Elder, he knew that, but he didn't want to. As much as he didn’t care for Thea, she was still Thea, there almost as long as him, Ymiv’s second half. He shuddered to think of what might happen to Ymiv without her presence. She’d always served as a sort of anchor to him, there to participate in his schemes, but always there to keep him from becoming what Lyo sensed he could be without her grounding presence there to stop him.

Lyo briefly wondered if he would receive some sort of punishment if he didn’t tell the Elder about the rock’s color change. He didn’t know of a time when someone hadn’t. The Elder only ever left her little complex if someone asked her, which usually only fell under when one of them was coming or going— so, feasibly she wouldn’t know about the rock unless someone told her. But, he also imagined that none of the others would keep it from her for long if they found out. And it would only be a matter of time before someone else came past the rock. 

“Lyo?” a voice behind him called suddenly. 

Lyo looked over his shoulder. The voice had come from the same path he’d walked down minutes before. He knew before he saw her that it was Alyondra.

He quickly scrambled toward the rock, falling to his knees as he crawled toward it in a poor attempt to cover it with his body. 

“Lyo, what are you doing?” Alyondra asked as she stopped behind him.

“Um. Nothing,” he replied without moving.

Alyondra walked around to the other side of the rock. She gingerly kneeled before him, hands placed calmly, flat against her lap. “Lyo,” she said. “Why are you hugging the rock?”

He looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Who is it?”

Lyo slowly unfurled himself, sitting up so that he could mirror her position. 

Her gaze immediately went to the rock’s purple surface. “Oh, Thea…” she lamented, as if Thea herself had dyed the rock purple. And then she made eye contact with Lyo as the weight of the situation hit her. “Ymiv…”

#

Alyondra told the Elder. He knew she would— she was the same one who’d told her back when the rock had changed to his blue and when it had turned purple the first time for Thea. The place the Elder took them to when she found out was new to Lyo. It reminded him of the cave they all arrived in, but only a little. Where the cave was enclosed like it was trying to keep them within it, this place was enclosed like it was trying to squeeze them out. The pathway to it was different too; the Elder made them line up single file as they edged along down its sloping passage. Thea led them, not because she knew where she was going (or not that it really mattered, seeing as though there was only one way to go), but because the Elder insisted upon it. The Elder took up the rear, sandwiching the rest of them between her and Thea. Lyo could see from his place between them that Thea was shaking.

“I’m cold,” Korus complained now, arms wrapped around himself in an attempt to stay warm. None of them were used to the cold, nor were they dressed for it. It was windy here too, Korus’s ribbon flicking at his wrist. Lyo and Alyondra stood together just as they had when Erell arrived, and Erell himself stood so close to Lyo that he could feel the heat radiating off him. Ymiv was the only one who stood apart from the rest of them, having pushed Korus away after his earlier attempts to get closer. The rest of them did not try.

Nobody acknowledged Korus. They all stood around a gap in the clouds. Lyo felt like the clouds behind him were breathing down his neck, like they wanted him to take another few steps forward toward it. He couldn't tell where the hole led— all he saw was the blue of the sky, the same that surrounded them in the village always.

“Thea,” the Elder said. She lifted a hand to her, palm open like she was expecting something.

Thea watched her, a hint of fear in her eyes that Lyo had never seen in them before. Slowly, with as much as grace as all of her movements held, she lifted her hands to the ribbon around her neck. The bow unraveled with ease, slipping from her throat like it was made of water. She considered the little strip of fabric, now limp in her hand, before she looked back to the Elder hesitantly. “I can’t keep it? Won't I need it still, after I leave?”

Everyone within the little space seemed to freeze, even the Elder. Alyondra inhaled sharply beside Lyo. He glanced at her— that had been the wrong thing to ask, he could tell from the look on Alyondra’s face. 

The Elder narrowed her eyes. “No.” 

Thea held the ribbon like it was a delicate thing, like its color, its identity would be sapped from its very being if she passed it over to the Elder. Lyo reasoned that wasn't too far from the truth, at least to her; it was one of the few things she could call hers. But, just like nearly everything about them, it had also come from the Elder. 

Lyo shivered. He pretended it was from the cold.

“Thea,” the Elder said, a very slight tinge of warning in her voice.

Thea looked around at the rest of them— searching for an ally, Lyo realized. 

Nobody moved, not even Ymiv. 

Thea’s twin stood as straight as Lyo had ever seen him. Lyo could not tell if he was completely in the moment or if his mind was somewhere else, his gaze was so firm on the hole in the floor. Korus lifted a hand to touch him, perhaps to rouse him from his stupor, but Ymiv slapped it away before he had the chance. Erell hissed through his teeth at the display.

The Elder ignored them. “Thea,” she repeated.

Thea’s grip on the ribbon tightened minutely before she passed it over to the Elder’s waiting hand. 

“Thank you,” the Elder continued. She wrapped the ribbon around her hand, stringing it between her old fingers. “You know what comes next.”

Thea opened and closed her mouth, nodded. She cast one final glance at the rest of them, her gaze catching on Ymiv for a few seconds before she winced and turned away. Something passed between them in those few moments, Lyo could tell, but it was something incomplete. 

Thea did not move for several seconds— nobody moved.

And then she jumped. 

And she was gone.

#

Thea’s absence was, unsurprisingly, felt by all of them. Obviously, Ymiv had the most trouble without her. That would’ve been one thing, but it also seemed he was determined to make it everyone else’s problem too.

“I want to go talk to him,” Erell said a few days later.

Lyo looked up at him from where he sat beside Korus. “Why?”

“I think it might help,” Erell answered innocently.

“Help with what?!” Korus cried as Alyondra pulled the damp cloth away from his head. He’d been the victim of a very well-aimed orange earlier that day, courtesy of Ymiv.

“You might be better off leaving him be for now,” Alyondra added. “Especially after what happened this morning.” She eyed Korus’s wet hair. It'd been sticky and tinged a slight pink before. 

“But that's all we've been doing,” Erell replied. “We leave him alone, and he stays away, but he still hasn't changed.”

“I think that's just how he is,” Alyondra suggested.

Erell crossed his arms over his chest in thought.

Lyo glanced between them. They both had a point. Lyo had kind of just assumed it was in Ymiv’s nature to be like that, but he'd also never dealt with something like his closest friend leaving forever. Maybe talking to someone else would help, if only a little. “I'll go with you,” he said suddenly. “To talk to Ymiv.”

“You will?” Alyondra asked, surprise clear in her tone. Erell's head jerked up at the same time, surprise also obvious in his face.

Lyo nodded hesitantly.

“Well, I'm staying here!” Korus announced. 

So they went to see Ymiv, just the two of them.

They found him in bed, in the little house he’d once shared with Thea, but now was only left for him. He was strewn face-first across it, long arms and hair dangling over the side. 

They hovered in the doorway, suddenly hesitant. Lyo turned to Erell, whispering, “I think he’s asleep. Are you sure you want to wake him?”

Erell opened his mouth to answer, but the muffled voice of Ymiv cut him off before he had the chance. “I can hear you. Did the Elder send you two?”

Erell snapped his mouth shut. He shared a puzzled look with Lyo. The Elder? Lyo thought to himself. Had she come to visit him without the rest of them noticing?

“Nevermind,” Ymiv mumbled as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. He appraised them, yellow eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Erell replied. 

Ymiv didn’t seem convinced. “About what?”

It seemed that Erell hadn’t been prepared to answer that question. He looked to Lyo for help. “He thought it might make you feel better,” Lyo supplied. 

Ymiv’s expression soured. “Did he, Lyo?” He moved then, long form slinking off the bed. It only took him a few long strides to cross to the other side of the room, hunching over them as he asked, “Why do you care?”

Lyo had to tip his head back to meet his eyes, to not break eye contact. He felt something terrible would happen if he did. “What?”

“None of you did anything. You all stood there and gawked while Thea tossed herself away, tossed herself into that… hole.” 

“What were we supposed to do?” Erell asked, voice small. “Isn’t that how it’s supposed to go?”

Ymiv tilted his head towards the other boy, as if to hear him better, but did not look away from Lyo. “I know you’re the one who saw the rock change.”

“You could’ve kept it to yourself” was what Ymiv really meant, Lyo could tell, but he did not voice it. He could tell him that Alyondra had been there too, that she’d told the Elder, not him, that he’d tried to hide it from her, but none of that would bring Thea back. 

None of them could’ve done anything.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Lyo said suddenly. He turned before either of them had the chance to stop him.

He heard Erell call his name, followed by a scoff from Ymiv and a door slamming shut. 

#

“Lyo…?” Alyondra whispered to him. 

Lyo lifted his head, blinking groggily against the harsh light of the afternoon sun. He’d gone to Thea’s rock after he’d fled, mostly for a lack of anywhere better to go. Except, it wasn’t Thea’s rock anymore. It wasn’t really anyone’s now.

“Erell told me about what happened with Ymiv,” Alyondra continued. She sat beside him on the flat stone. “At least you tried.”

Lyo didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure if “tried” was really the right word to describe it, but he didn’t correct her.

“I’ve wanted to tell you about this for a long time…” she went on. “...But I’ve always thought it might be a bad idea. I think it might be okay now, though.”

That caught his attention, enough to wake him up fully. “What is it?”

She smiled at his interest. There was some melancholy to it. “Before you came along, I reacted the same way. When other people left. I always wanted to do something, but I never could.”

He met her red gaze. “Why not?”

Alyondra shook her head. “I realized there was no point to it, to wanting. It’s bound to happen to all of us sooner or later. And I knew that if I waited long enough, more people would come out of the pool eventually.”

Lyo stared at her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it might’ve been like for her, alone with just herself and the Elder. It made him think of the time after he’d first arrived, about how she’d helped him tie the ribbon around his ankle that that first night, after a long day of deliberation and tears, about how he’d quickly grown attached to her because she was the only one there he could’ve grown attached to in the first place. He thought about Thea’s arrival too, and then Ymiv’s and how he’d quickly grown attached to her, enough to want to mimic her, and then Korus’s and how much trouble he’d had fitting in with the rest of them, and still did. 

He wondered what it would be like if Alyondra had been the one to jump instead of Thea. What if someone else had volunteered to in her stead? Is that what Ymiv had wanted? “Has anyone ever jumped willingly?” he asked suddenly. 

Alyondra lifted her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

Lyo hesitated for a moment. What did he mean? He gestured vaguely with his hands. “Like…without the rock telling them to?”

She frowned. “I don’t think so.”

#

Lyo couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation he’d had with Alyondra. He was sitting with Erell and Korus in the orchard when he asked them, “Would you jump if you didn’t have to?”

“Huh?” Korus mumbled, mouth full of orange, as per usual. “Like this?” He got up and jumped in the air to demonstrate, the half-eaten fruit in his hand slipping and falling to the clouds at their feet. 

“No, not like that,” Lyo replied as he picked up the fallen orange and handed it back to him. 

“You mean, through the hole?” Erell asked slowly from beside him. 

Lyo nodded. 

“Why would I?” Erell asked. “If I don’t have to? Why not just wait for the rock?”

“I’ve been wondering,” Lyo continued. “Maybe that’s what Ymiv wanted us to do instead.”

“He wanted someone else to jump instead of Thea?”

Lyo nodded again. Now that he heard someone else say it aloud, he realized that was probably true. If Ymiv had wanted her to stay at whatever cost necessary, then the natural conclusion he must've come to would be that somebody else had to jump instead of her. 

Korus wrinkled his nose at the mention of Ymiv, muttering something under his breath as he took another bite of orange. 

They both ignored him. “Is that even allowed?” Erell asked. “I thought the person whose color the rock changed to always had to leave, no matter what.”

“But what would stop someone from jumping, even if the rock didn’t say so?” Lyo countered. “It’s just a hole in the clouds, it’s probably always there, regardless of what the rock looks like, just like the pool.”

Erell pursed his lips. 

“Someone else could stop you,” Korus interrupted. “If you wanted to jump. As long as someone else is there, that is.”

#

Lyo went to go look at the rock later that day. He sat down in front of it. Its surface was the same as ever, black and smooth and perfect, no hint of any of the colors he knew it could change to. 

Just like all the other questions he had about this place, he also wondered about the rock. Its nature was just as much of a mystery to him as his own existence. 

Had Alyondra been the one to see it change to blue when he had arrived? She must’ve been— she’d been the only one other than the Elder at the time. He didn’t think the Elder had ever seen the rock change, she’d probably only ever been told. 

He ran his fingers across its surface. It was just as smooth as it looked, exactly the same as the last time he’d touched it.

He moved his hand to the side, until he was running it along the rock’s base. There didn’t seem to be any sort of gap between it and the clouds, almost like it was fused with it. He frowned and pulled back, then leaned to the side to get a better look at it. 

It looked exactly as it had felt.

Slowly, Lyo moved back, gazing around where he sat. 

The sky was just as blue as it always was, the clouds surrounding him calm in their flowing movements, undisturbed by what he’d just discovered.

Where am I? He thought to himself. What is this place? Why am I here?

#

“Erell,” Lyo whispered to him that night. “Can I talk to you?”

He stood outside him and Korus’s shared sleeping quarters, by the open-air window that he knew was right above Erell’s bed. 

Erell’s head bobbed into view, blinking hazily at Lyo. His short hair was disheveled, sticking up in places it normally wouldn’t have. “...Lyo?”

Lyo’s gaze flicked past him to what he could make out of Korus’s sleeping form. 

Erell quickly got the message, pushing back his blanket before disappearing from Lyo’s line of sight. He reemerged not too long later, asking Lyo as he approached, “What is it…?”

“I needed to ask you something,” Lyo explained. 

Erell watched him curiously, but did not inquire further. 

Lyo suddenly wondered if this had been a bad idea. It hadn’t really been one he’d thought about very long. “What…” Lyo started, speaking slowly, as if testing the words in his head before saying them out loud. “...What do you think of this place?”

Erell frowned. “What?”

“Are you happy here? Do you like it here?”

“Of course I do, Lyo. Why wouldn’t I?”

Lyo stared at the orange ribbon wrapped around the other boy’s thigh. It still shocked him how easily the placement of it had seemed to come to Erell, that it was so close to where Lyo wore his own, yet so different all the same. “I cried my first day here,” Lyo admitted abruptly. 

Erell flinched a little. “You did? Why? That doesn’t sound like you.”

Lyo didn’t bother arguing against that last part. “Because I didn’t understand why I was here.”

“And do you understand now?”

Lyo lifted his eyes from Erell’s ribbon as he met his gaze. He shook his head.

Erell’s face softened. “And does Alyondra know this?”

“No.”

#

Alyondra woke them all up early some days later to go check on Ymiv. Lyo and Erell’s “chat” with him had ultimately proved to be quite futile— they had not seen much of Ymiv since then, mostly because he refused to go outside. 

Korus yawned dramatically, in a manner that reminded Lyo eerily of Thea. 

“What are we doing?” Erell asked skeptically. 

Alyondra gave him a warning look from where she stood beside the closed door. 

Lyo, for once, agreed with Erell. He’d always assumed Alyondra was the smartest of them, but he was starting to question that, especially after the plan she’d explained to them.

“You want to make him go outside?” Lyo had asked. “Why?”

“I don’t think staying inside all the time is good for him,” she’d answered. “Do you remember how much time he used to spend outside before?”

Lyo had not bothered arguing then, and he did not now. 

Alyondra knocked on the door. 

Nothing happened. 

“Alyondra…” Erell sighed. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

Lyo kept his mouth shut. Erell was right, but he didn’t have the will to tell her that. 

She made a silencing motion. Erell sighed again. 

Lyo looked around. Korus yawned a second time.

The door burst open suddenly. Ymiv leaned his weight against the knob, glaring at each of them individually. “What now?” he demanded.

Alyondra had stumbled back a few steps when the door had opened, but she moved back toward it now. “I think you need to go outside. It can't be good for you to sit around inside all day.”

Ymiv scowled at her. “What do you know? And what are these three doing here?” He gestured to Korus, then to Erell. “Was this his idea again?”

“No, Ymiv—”

He cut her off, pointing to Lyo this time. “And what about you, Lyo? What's your part in all this?”

Lyo didn’t bother answering— Ymiv was happy to do so for him.

“You’ve been here nearly as long as Alyondra,” he continued. “Has she ever wondered why this place is the way it is? Probably not. What about you, Lyo? What would you do if you were forced to watch your friend leave forever?”

Erell glanced at Lyo. “Leave forever?” he whispered.

Ymiv heard him. “That's right. When we jump, we don't come back.” He tilted his head, pouting mockingly. “Oh, did you not know that, Erell?”

Erell, suddenly Ymiv’s new target, stammered incoherently. “I-I didn't—” he managed, before cutting himself off. He turned to Lyo. “Is that true?”

Lyo stared at him, equally as caught off guard. He didn't know the answer for certain, had never been told as much, but somehow he knew it was true. It made him feel lightheaded. Once they jumped, that would be it. There was no coming back from something like that.

“Ymiv, that's enough,” Alyondra interjected, moving toward him.

He rounded on her. “That's enough?” he echoed. “I don't want to hear that from you. How many people did you watch jump before any of us came along? How many of those people watched other people jump?”

“It never stops,” Lyo concluded. 

“That’s right, Lyo. It never stops,” Ymiv confirmed smugly. “We all have to jump eventually.”

Erell watched him, orange eyes wide. “Lyo?”

Lyo backed away from him. “I have to go,” he said quickly, before he turned on his heel and fled.

#

It was Erell who went after him— not Alyondra, but Erell. He found him on his bed, head in his hands. 

“Lyo…?” Erell called hesitantly from the doorway. 

Lyo lifted his head slightly, looking at him over his hands. 

Erell took that as permission to enter the small space fully, pulling the door shut carefully behind him. “Are you okay?”

Lyo waited until he was sitting next to him on the bed before he answered. “I can’t stay here,” he said.

“What? Why not?”

Lyo inhaled shakily. “You saw what’s happened to Ymiv without Thea. What if that happens to me after Alyondra leaves? Or if any of you leave before I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Erell, I can’t sit and wait around for the rock to decide when it’s time for me to jump. I can’t watch the rest of you go, not after what happened after just one of us did.”

“But what if you’re next?”

Lyo shook his head. It felt like his whole body was starting to shake now. “No.”

“Lyo…you can’t decide that for yourself.”

“Says who? I can’t be here anymore,” Lyo continued. “I can’t. If this is all that there is for me, just waiting for me or everyone else to leave.”

“But…” Erell said slowly. “What can you do?”

“I realized something…” Lyo started. He stopped and looked around the room. It was barely afternoon, the light from the sun leaking in from the open air window on the opposite side of the room and from the one behind him. The bed he sat on was the same as always, blanket tousled and halfway to the floor. Alyondra’s on the other side of the room was the same too, unchanged just as she had been for as long as he’d known her. He wondered who had slept in it before her. Had somebody used that blanket too, or had Alyondra made it at some point before his arrival but before anyone else but her had been around to use it? 

“What’d you realize, Lyo?” Erell asked softly.

Lyo finally looked back at him. “I don’t think we actually have to jump.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…we could just stay here forever. The only reason we jump is because the Elder forces us to, and that’s only because the rock changes colors. We could choose, if we wanted to.”

Erell studied his face. “Is that what you want to do? What about Alyondra?”

Lyo met his gaze. “Would you stop me?”

Erell’s eyes got really big. “You’re not—”

Lyo was on his feet before he had the chance to finish, across the room before he had the chance to realize. 

#

Lyo was halfway down the path to the village square before he heard Erell calling his name.

He stopped next to the rock and turned. Erell wasn’t too far away when he noticed, freezing in his steps as he watched him.

“You’re actually doing it…” he said slowly, out of breath. 

“You can’t stop me,” Lyo countered. 

Erell considered him. “Then why’d you stop?”

Lyo didn’t answer. 

“Do you want me to stop you?”

Again, he did not answer, mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure himself.

Erell moved again. Lyo did not move fast enough, it seemed, or maybe Erell was faster than he thought. He reached for Lyo’s arm, but Lyo slipped from his grip before he could pull him backwards. Erell stumbled with the momentum, falling forward. He brought his hands up to brace himself, but it was useless.

Lyo watched in horror as his head knocked against the edge of the rock. He stumbled backwards, as if he’d felt the impact himself and it had pushed him away. 

Neither of them moved for several seconds.

Shakily, Erell sat up. Something red —a red like Alyondra’s ribbon— dripped down his forehead and over his eyes as he struggled to keep them open. The red was splattered across the rock, too, deeper than any color he’d ever seen it change to on its own. Lyo edged backwards as Erell wobbled to his feet.

“Erell, don’t,” he said quickly, shaking his head. 

Erell ignored him. 

“Erell…!” Lyo warned again, suddenly scared, because even though he didn’t know what this was, he knew it was bad and that it was his fault.

Lyo couldn't get away fast enough. 

#

“Lyo!” Erell yelled after him. His voice was shaky, uneven just as his movements had been when Lyo had fled.

Lyo pretended not to hear him. He stumbled down the cloudy pathway, hands held out on either side of him in an attempt to steady himself. The walls were made of clouds just like the ground beneath him. They were solid against his palms, cold to the touch, unlike the sun-bathed, softer clouds he was used to. 

“Lyo!” Erell shouted again. He sounded unsteadier this time.

Lyo inhaled. He did not stop to look over his shoulder. 

The clouds at his feet were solid and cold too, grounding in a way he’d only ever felt against stone. He imagined them morphing into rock instead, a dark hallway lined not with abnormally cold clouds, but with something else entirely.

Lyo tripped a little, feet tangling with each other as he fell to his knees— like Korus always did, especially in the days immediately after his arrival. He pushed himself up to his knees, and then shakily back to his feet.

There was little to no light in the pathway, Lyo noticed as he continued forward. What light there was was tinted a dark blue as it filtered through the dense clouds. Thea would’ve hated it here, even more than she had when she’d been the one leading them down the path before. Ymiv would’ve basked in it, especially now that Thea was gone.

Lyo stopped when the pathway came to an abrupt end. He glanced back over his shoulder, one hand on the clouds beside him as he attempted to catch his breath. He still couldn’t see Erell, but he knew he was close behind. 

He took a few unsteady steps into the room in front of him. It was exactly the same as the last time, small and round and oppressive. The cloudy walls seemed to expand as he entered, like they were inhaling in anticipation for what was to come. 

“Lyo…” Erell said from behind him, out of breath. 

Lyo fell to his knees in front of the hole in the floor. It was small, just big enough for someone to slip through. The sky below was the bright blue of midday, except here he could not see the sun.

“Don’t…” Erell choked out.

Lyo finally looked over at him. His face was covered with even more red than it had been before, traveling all the way down to his chin now. He could also make out the distinct lines of tears against the red— those had not stopped.

 They made eye contact as Lyo reached for the ribbon around his ankle. Erell’s eyes widened as he watched him untie it. 

“You won’t stop me,” Lyo said to him, voice shaking. His face stung.

Erell’s eyes flicked up to Lyo’s. They stared at each other for a few tense seconds. 

And then they both moved at the same time. 

Erell lunged forward. 

Lyo pushed himself forward. He slid through the hole with ease. Erell dove toward him, one arm outstretched, hand open. 

He only managed to catch the ribbon as it slipped from Lyo’s hand. It was smooth, dark blue against Erell’s lighter blue skin.

It was still warm.

About the Author

Willow Feldstein  is a graduating senior from Wyncote, PA. Her favorite genre to read and write is fantasy, especially when it's about characters who aren't exactly human.