On the Shoreline

"It's gorgeous."

They stare at the blue-green of the sea.

It has been a dangerous trip to get here. It has left both of them starving, both of their stomachs aching for food, both of their legs hurting from the constant, difficult shuffle of their feet. It has left both of them feeling sad.

Yet, somehow, they are happy. They've finally gotten to the shoreline. The sand sticks to their shoes, the water laps at their feet. The branches wave above their heads at the breeze that blows in over the waves.

"Liona?"

He looks at her.

"Liona? What is it?"

Her eyes are tired. Circles of dusty purple have made their way below them. She leans against his side. All of this time, she has tried her best to bring him to the shore, and all of this time, she has been pushing through.

Now she feels like giving up.

"Liona!" He grasps her hand just as she falls. "Liona, are you OK?"

He knows that she is not. The question is redundant. If she has just fallen against his side, then she is not OK.

But the redundant questions no longer matter. The meaningless answers no longer matter. The Politness Rules that they have strived to follow perfectly all their lives no longer matter.

All that matters is that they are together.

Even if they become Gone here, they are together.

Faris looks his friend in the eyes. "Liona," he murmurs, "Say something."

Weakly, he hears her tell him that she's hungry. Or worse, a word that they were never taught to use: starving. She feels starving. She feels that she cannot go on any longer. Unless they are somehow to find food, to survive out in this wilderness that they have known as Somewhere Else, they'll both be Gone by the time that night falls.

"No." He gently takes her by the shoulders and sits her up. "We won't be Gone."

He hears her whine. They won't survive this.

"But we..." he swallows the lump in his throat, "...But we will!"

He tries to think of something to say. Something that will remind her of everything they had done to get to this point.

"Do you remember when we escaped?"

She nods. The memory is still fresh in her imagination. Only three days have passed since then- three days of constant walking and moving away from the Away Premises.

"And... and I..." It is hard for him to admit. "And I was... being hurt?"

It's the simplest language he can think of. She stares at him defiantly, stating that he wasn't "being hurt." He was already hurt. The Operators were just then deciding to inflict the pain on him.

He's surprised that she remembers what really happened. And he decides to let go of the sugarcoat that he usually spreads over it.

"You were crying," he says, "and you told the Operators that you wouldn't let them-"

She interrupts him. He waits for her to finish, knowing what she only ever interrupts him if she has something of importance to say.

"Y... yes. I know." He feels his shoulders collapse in a sigh. "But I remember, while you were talking, that it was like you were... it was like you were healing, almost."

She blinks at him curiously. Healing?

And then she remembers. Yes. She'd felt it. She'd felt herself being drained of the will to keep standing. She'd felt her ounces of strength pour into the person she held hands with as he writhed in pain on the ground.

She had been healing Faris.

How? Neither of them are sure of how. But it'd happened. Faris had stopped crying. The pain had gone away. It had flown from Liona to him in a mere few moments.

She asks him what that has to do with now. If she has no strength, if she has no will, then how will she be able to heal him? How will he be able to heal her?

How will they survive?

The Partners have come so far together. They've walked all the way to the ends of the earth together. How they survive, how they can bring each other back to their former strength and joy, how the children can continue to live- that is up to you.

The ending is up to interpretation.

*More interpretations coming soon.*