Why didn’t he just say he’s name was Jon?

The realization of my sword still snapped at the tip straight across, the missing section now inside me. "So, thanks," I uttered awkwardly, remaining in one place like a fool.

"What's your name? I'm Captain Jon of the resistance" he added with a grin. "Oh, I'm Keeda of nothing," I said struggling to smile back at him.

His face reacted with a worried remark. What was I even doing? "I'm assuming you're going to require medical attention at some point.

If you wanted to come back to the bunker with me? You could meet the rest of the resistance!" He suggested. Radiating with glee for his companions. "Plus, we could use a dragon on our team if you don't explode," chuckling. "Explode?!" I practically hollered back at him. "Uh yeah" he scratched his head. "Should we get moving on then?"

He picked up his pails of water, leading the way. "Only if you clarify why I might detonate" I followed him while he snickered.

This introduced the longest explanation I've ever heard. Jon sure talked a lot. "Are you listening?" He spoke, peering up at me, "I uh" sputtering out. "It's something about the magma matter in their throats" with large eyes he stared at me sideways "it happens too rapidly, and boom! Or it has nowhere to travel.

Not positive either way! Boom!! Splash!! Magma everywhere!" He cheered, trying not to spill over his water in excitement at the image of me exploding. "Nice, something to look forward to" whispering under my breath.

"You're cursed though, right??? If you blow up, just try it again" enthusiastic words escaping his mouth. Jon was trying to help me.

"I have no alternative but to try again and again, enduring the pain over and over with no resolution in sight" I could see his smile fading, "I haven't experienced exploding yet" he glared at me for a minute, pondering my joke before letting out a heavy laugh.

"You're wild!" He responded as we arrive at a vast door, with a wheel on the front of it. Where the fuck was I? "You mind?" he lifted the buckets of water to me, indicating I carry them.

I helped him out, so he could turn the wheel side to side like a code, tugging it open. In pure shock, I saw little lights flicker on, running down in a straight row. With peculiar benches around the room, everything here was unfamiliar to me.

Where were the stone walls? The rooms with linens floating down for the fresh air to whirl through? This building had no walkways or appropriate routes to the outside besides the massive exit with the wheel.

"Here, I'll take those now" Jon grabbed the containers from my hand, topping off a considerable grayish container of water, the system already practically full. "We get water every day so it doesn't spoil, also we don't run out this way" he snorted.

"Everybody's gone right today besides me and liliana. However, she's outside canoodling with the greenery," he frequently chuckled after a sentence. "She's unwell?" I suggested I recall the impaired at home.

They wandered around, forgotten in alleys covered in dirt and sand. Most of them dying from sun exposure. "Oh no!!" He shrieked waving his palms "She's an elf, they cherish the earth, plants, and shit.

She's constantly disappearing chatting with them" his voice fading away "making sure the seedlings are okay. Can you believe that?" he went on. 'Elvish people don't exist anymore, they all perished' I thought to myself.

Murder by the thousands for their skin, hair even their souls. Everything that could be used for magic. Thousands of years before I was born.

"Where am I?" I asked him puzzled. "Right now you're in the bunker for the resistance," he paused "but the world's a mess.

You're still in free territory don't worry." We stared at each other in a delicate silence "Free Territory?" I questioned him.

Jon placed his hands on his hips as if he were teaching a child, becoming impatient with me. "Where precisely are you from, stranger?" he demanded, suspecting me. I could hear his heart. It's beat, the force of its flutter changing faster and faster.

That's intriguing. The delicate steps of damp soles stepping towards the exit, the smell of burnt wood. Wood was hardly never seen at home. It wasn't burnt, perhaps wet?

The fragrance of wet wood draped over the frame of a small woman as she sprung open the exit. Her dazzling smiling, diminishing at the sight of me.