FicWad

If anything, my world is a simple one. There’s us, and there’s the Fallen. If you follow the laws of the Republic, you’re one of us. If you break one single law, even the smallest rule of the Republic, you’re pushed out of society and you become one of the Fallen. The Fallen are all different ages, races, and sizes. Each of them torn from their families for their wrong doing, doomed to a life of solitude and exile.
Sometimes I’d stand in the window and watch them, far away in their loose settlement, a lonely version of a village, in the forest beyond our town. They all looked like ants, busy and small, from my perspective. Sometimes I’d wonder. I’d wonder their stories, what drove them to do what they did, and just what they did to be rejected in such a way.
Once, I gathered my courage and asked my mother. Her face turned to stone. “Why fill your head with nonsense about the Fallen? They did wrong. They got what they deserved. Leave it at that.”
But I never stopped wondering about them. And eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I woke up early one morning, like I usually do when I go “hunting”. It was the third day of Hunting Season (the Republic’s name for open season—just open season for all animals). I pulled together a bag of food and a few bottles of water—enough to last me all day, and slipped down the stairs, hoping I wouldn’t wake anyone. But apparently, I didn’t need to.
Mother sat in the kitchen, almost waiting for me. “Where are you going?”
“Just going hunting, Mom.” All it took was a white lie.
“Be back by sundown,” she sighed, like she really cared either way.

“Yes?” Shane opened the door after I knocked, rubbing his eyes.
“Wanna go on an adventure?” I smiled.
He sighed. “Give me twenty minutes to get ready and I’m there.”
I nodded as he closed the door again, sitting down on the porch swing. Shane was my best friend, and I was always taking him “hunting” with me. He was the only one who really understood me. He was the only one who really cared.
He emerged exactly twenty-five minutes later, carrying his own bag, his shaggy black hair now brushed and shiny, his pajamas now jeans and a t-shirt, his brown eyes a little more alert than before. “So where are we going today?”
“We are going to a place never touched by civilized hands,” I said as we descended the porch steps and started down the road. “We’re going to see the Fallen.”
He gasped. “Are you insane?”
“Yes,” I laughed. “I am.”

Shane pulled me to a stop just outside the Republic’s gates. “Are you sure you wanna do this, ?” he asked quietly so as not to alert the guards at the gate we were doing anything illegal.
“I’m positive. I’ve wanted to do this my whole life.”
“Okay. I mean, you know I’ll follow you wherever you go, but…” he shuddered. “Just making sure.”
I smiled. “Come on, Shane.”

We walked there in relative silence. Shane wasn’t one to talk when he was uncomfortable. In fact, he did the direct opposite. I would be lucky to get a word out of him during the whole time we were at their village/settlement/thing. We stuck to the forest, directly avoiding the town’s entrance, slinking around under the cover of the bushes. We wouldn’t be seen now. We came to a stop beside a large field where many people were all tending some crop I didn’t recognize.
I saw him through the trees. He stood, tall and dark, wiping the hair out of his face, looking down at the plant he’d been caring for.
“Looks good,” said an old man near him.
He smiled, exposing perfect rows of teeth. “Am I done?” His voice was deep and rich. I loved it the second I heard it.
The man sighed. “Fine, Gage, you’re free to go.”
The boy, Gage, laughed, the sound of it like honey on the tip of my tongue. Delicious. “Seeya.” He turned then, and I saw his whole form.
He had dark hair sticking up in the back from the heat, falling across his forehead and ending just above his shoulders. His arms were thick, muscular, his big hands clutching a pair of shears, and I could see his nicely sculpted chest through the t-shirt he wore. His face was angled in a way that made his bright, intelligent blue eyes look big, their color a stark contrast to his hair. He was so beautiful in the bright sunlight my heart stuttered in my chest.
Shane heard my sharp intake of breath. “What?” he whispered.
“Gage…” I murmured.
Shane rolled his eyes. “Don’t go fantasizing about a Fallen. Not a good plan.”
“Shane, he’s stunning.”
“Sorry, but I don’t share the sentiment.”
I groaned. “Oh, the joys of having a best friend of the opposite sex.”
But just then, Gage’s eyes fell right where I was hiding. I doubt he saw me, but having those perfect eyes drift to me made my heart do little flips. I sighed in awe as he started towards the shed to put away the shears, leaving me to stare in his wake.
“This is pathetic,” Shane muttered, taking my chin in two fingers and turning my head to face him. “Listen. He’s Fallen. He’s not the kind of guy you wanna be tangled up with.” My eyes must not have lost their glazed over look, because he slapped me. Hard.
“Thank you,” I muttered, rubbing my face, blinking in my newfound freedom from that haze.