Young Writers Society

Ki shook their head. "I've never seen a shirt like that before." Seventeen words. "Is it an American style?" Twenty-two.

The most words he had ever spoken in a day was eighty-seven. But that was when...

Maybe it was best not to think about that right now.

Pren glanced at the shirt’s design. It was a chemistry joke with a bunch of noble gases dressed in fancy robes with their element symbols as their heads. “Uhh, the periodic table is a worldwide thing, I’m pretty sure. Though maybe you haven’t seen it before because it’s kind of a lame pun? I mean, I think other people think it’s lame. It’s comfortable, so I like it.” Pren shrugged and grinned.

"Periodic table?" Twenty-four. "I've never heard of that." Then again, subterras were never known to get the best education in the British underground. School usually consisted of British guards teaching them how to work and stay quiet.

Pren’s brow wrinkled for a moment. “Did you not take chemistry in high school? But even if you didn’t, I’m pretty sure most people have heard of the periodic table… Though I guess you also look different from other people.” Pren considered Ki’s four arms again. “Are you heavier too? The bridge looks like it’s having some trouble holding us up.” Pren frowned as the bridge gave a well-timed groan.

"I'm made of stone." Ki cringed. Thirty-six words was not a good place to be. "Have you never heard of a subterra before?"

Subterra were native to Africa, but if they ended up in England, who's to say they didn't wash up on the shores of America? Though, transporting them on ships had to be dangerous.

"Nope! Can't say that I have," Pren said cheerfully. "You're the first one I've met." Pren glanced around at the bridge and the towers on its ends. "Hm, do you think we should try to head towards the closest tower? This bridge seems rather flimsy, unfortunately. I would've loved to stay and enjoy the view, but ah well."

Ki nodded and, once again, attempted to move. The bridge groaned, locking Ki into place. Maybe staying still wasn't a bad idea. They could stay on this bridge forever until the height stopped making them want to draw their sword and attack their noncorporal fear.

Pren, who had passed Ki by a couple of steps, stopped and glanced back in concern. "You alright?" Perhaps being made of stone interfered with moving? Pren wasn't sure. "What's wrong?"

Ki shook his head, still refusing to move. "Nothing." They crouched low to the ground, trying desperately to distribute their weight.

"No offense, but it doesn't seem like nothing." Pren stared at Ki. "Do your arms make it hard to balance? Or do you move differently than walking? Like, do subterras phase through the earth or something? I read a book about that once... Or is it a fear of heights?" Pren looked worried. "Or do you have a stomachache?"

Ki forced themself to laugh. "No. It's just-" 48 words. "-the view." Fifty. Any word above fifty was always a risk, and even though Ki had left that lifestyle behind, their throat sill closed at the thought.

Pren looked through the glass bridge. "The lake? Oh dear. Do you have a fear of water?" He crouched down next to Ki. "How can I help?"

Ki swallowed nervously. "No. I-" How does Ki explain how easy it could be to kill them? How does one hand all their weaknesses to someone on a silver platter? Because isn't that what fears are, echoes of your weaknesses choking you from their birthplace?

"I think moving will break the bridge."

Pren glanced down. The hairline cracks did seem to be widening... He offered Ki a slightly nervous grin. "Well then. We'll just have to run." Pren stood up and offered Ki his hand.

Ki sighed and shuffled ever so slightly to prepare to run. “Okay. Three, two, one-“