"I ran and ran and ran. I ran until I fell legs first into a ditch the size of Wonderland itself."
—Me, 'Hollows In Time'
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T h e   H o l l o w s   I n
O U R  F R E E D O M
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Results are always daunting. From laboratory experiment to exam results, there is not one on the scale that isn't the slightest bit significant.

But results like these? They make you go crazy. The anticipation for them will keep you up a night; it will wander around in your nightmares. It'll follow you, night and day. It'll haunt you, every single second.

When you're told the results, it's either good or bad. There will be no in between, no settling. You get what you're given, and if you don't like what you're given, you tumble down into a hollow, dug by life's problems.

"Mr Fahr is awake and responsive," it wasn't the news I wanted, but I was still relieved. But I needed the other half. I needed my other half. Please.

"Miss Forest–" my heart started racing. It was so furious that I could hear it. "–the transfusion and operation went to plan–" the relief that hit me in that moment was instantaneous. I couldn't stop it, and I couldn't anticipate it. It was overwhelming.

"She is not awake, nor responsive, but she is perfectly fine."

I felt so light; I thought I'd grow wings and fly away.

I grabbed the doctors hand. "Thank you." I tried to hold back the relieved tears, but I knew I'd have to find a secret corner later to hide in to release. He nodded at me, removed his hand and left.

"One of you two must have really good luck, because it's not me." I stared after the doctor, just pondering on how lucky we all were. Sky Forest lives to see another day. Oh, and Jameson.

Jace snickered at my joke, but Mrs Beaufort was less than amused. "Are jokes your instinctive solution for everything? I do not think that this kind of natural instinct is desirable for a trained Guardian."

"And, what are you? A trained booty-call?" They both fell silent.

"Excuse me?"

Well, crap.
I guess I'm facing my first Hurricane Elle.

"Well, you only seem to turn up when someone calls you." And then I knew I was screwed.

Jace jumped in. "Okay, that's enough," he aimed this at me, shooting me a glare. I rolled my eyes at him, but was, deep down, very upset that he had done the maths and somehow come to the conclusion that I was the one to blame. Seriously?

I heard Mrs Beaufort grunt. "Off course, the peacemaker. Family ties hold you tight."

I froze, seeing Jace go rigid in front of me.

"You know nothing about my family."

Well, crap.

I hadn't known that Jace had a trigger, but everyone does, of course. And his, apparently, was the subject of his family. I should've jumped in, but I was too intrigued. Curiosity killed the cat. Or the obsessed, nearly-eighteen year old, girl.

"Of course, family secrets are best kept in the back garden, and I'd never trespass into someone's property."

Well–
Stop, Lexi.

Jace took a defensive—or rather, offensive—step forward so I reached out and placed a calming palm on his shoulder.

I leaned into him, which was more for me than it was for him. On my tiptoes, I whispered into his ear. "It's not worth it, calm down."

It took him a few brooding seconds, and a few huffs, but he finally broke out of his trance, stepping away from the storm that was Elle Beaufort.

When I could see her once more, after Jace had retreated, I glared at her, but she didn't even flinch. I guess she was used to it.

After that, Jace and I separated from Elle, Queen of Hell, and took seats next to each other.

Moments had passed, in which I had sat marvelling over how we sat even closer than before. Obsessed, nearly-eighteen year old, girl. Then I spoke up.

"Your hot chocolate must be cold." I pointed out, having nothing else to say.

"Huh?" Jace asked, once he realised that I had been talking to him, then he followed my gaze to his cup and figured it out. "Oh, yeah—it's fine. Did you finish yours?" He asked.

I smiled, nodding. "Yes, and my mouth will never forgive me for the third degree burns." I joked, surprised to hear him laugh in response. Stunned, I just listened to it echo all around the room. A melody, that's what it was.

I looked away. "Your–"

"Miss Abbot?"

The voice had both broken me off and startled me at the same time. It was a nurse.

"Mr Fahr would like to see you." She told me. My chest suddenly felt hollow. I swallowed, clutching my cup so hard I think I broke it.

But I nodded, smiled, got up and followed the nurse, feeling both Jace's and Mrs Beaufort's eyes on me.

The nurse allowed me to go into the room on my own, and I smiled at her before twisting the door handle and pushing the door open. The boy who had requested my presence was lain on a hospital bed, wires stuck to any place possible. It made me wonder what state Sky was in.

When he saw me, it was almost unfathomable how relieved he appeared. He tried to sit up, but it was the nurse's last request that he laid back down before she took her leave.

I closed the door behind me, walking into a situation where I felt more than out of place. A room with only Jameson and I in? The world couldn't be any more funny if it tried.

Despite the obvious tension, I am always fully equipped and trained to handle all types of situations, even if the curriculum didn't exactly include 'awkward confrontations'.

I took a seat by his bed and watched as he turned to face me, his eyes tight with worry. And I couldn't blame him. The last thing he probably remembers is the love of his life perishing in flames. For all he knew, she could be dead.

But the world still rotated the right way. The universe, apparently, ships Sky and Jameson. To be honest, with their overwhelming compassion and care for each other, who wouldn't? That doesn't mean to say I ship them, by the way. I'm not corny.

"Is Sky..?" He couldn't even finished his sentence. I took one look at him and knew his heart was breaking. Cracks ripped across the surface, and soon he would lose all feeling.

I don't speak from experience, I'm just assuming.

"She's fine." Well, as fine as a girl on fire could ever be. Jameson froze. He knew as well as I did that one isn't just 'fine'.

I sighed, knowing that he wanted me to expand. "She was pretty bad when they brought her in, and she had to have a blood transfusion. But she should be fine now." I explained. Lines of worry appeared by his eyes.

"Where is she?" He asked next, voice wavering in a fashion that just wasn't akin to Jameson at all.

I shrugged. "I know as little as you do on that subject." He carded his hand through his hair, turning away from me.

"She was right there." He whispered. The mood suddenly dropped, sunk, and never rose.

"Right in front of me. I was inches away from holding her." I knew exactly what he was talking about. Because I had the ring to prove it.

"Then she was ripped away from me–" I dug my hand into my pocket as he spoke, but he was too lost in his emotion to care what I was doing. "–we were so close," he closed his eyes, and I could've sworn a tear fell. "I had–"

"–the ring?"

I watched as all time froze around him. What I had said was replaying over and over again in his mind. A loop. An eternal loop.

He blinked.

"You saw it?" He asked, voice quiet. I think it was the first time I had seen him both vulnerable and shocked at the same time.

I smiled. My answer was to open my clamped hand, which had been holding the ring for a good two minutes.

There it laid. A glimmering strand of the last hope in the universe. Covered by ashes, the ring didn't lose its beauty—it never could.

I watched as Jameson's eyes both conveyed relief and heartbreak.

The revolution wasn't due to the Academy's lack of discretion. It was due to this ring.

This ring caused the revolution.
This ring is the revolution.

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Why my characters really trying to undermine my amazing revolution plot line by relating it to a ring

I'll never get soppy people

(Lexi would kill me for that lmao)

THIS IS THE CRINGIEST AUTHOR'S NOTE I'VE EVER WRITTEN

I PROMISE THEY DON'T EXIST AND IM NOT MENTAL

-well that's just rude

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Next update: Friday
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CHAPTER SIX SPOILER:

A wordy and complex observation leads to one conclusion.

The team are in trouble.

The revolution was never finished.