His name was Marcus Lee. He was experienced in all types of skills, including camping. His first masters—like mine—were kind and took him out into the woods to learn outdoor skills along with their children. He described them fondly, his eyes always brightening whenever he spoke of them. Whenever I mentioned the doctors, Marcus would get very angry and make a low growling noise. When I mentioned his fury to him out of context, he told me he did not appreciate how I grouped the doctors with his first masters. They were of a completely different type of people. His first masters didn’t sell him; they were killed in a car crash. He explained that the doctors sold me out to the Huse family for money and protection. The doctors, he insisted, were evil. I would not argue, for I did not have a good reason to fight back. Eventually, I stopped speaking of the doctors. Marcus’s and my relationship got on much better afterwards, though his first masters would come up in conversation often. I trained myself to stop listening.

Marcus decided he had the power to change the whole way of thinking in the universe. He just needed to change into a human to get respect from other humans. To fix the world, we had to fix ourselves. Still, we lived on the run because we were escaped Servants. Our species was never meant to fight back; we were trained to serve and serve alone. The woods were our main are of sanctuary, but sometimes we got to stay in towns. There, Marcus would preach his ideas. He would tell the crowd how we were going to earn dignity for our people and all of the other species in the universe. “The greater beings do not have the right to control us,” he would scream. “Anna Louise and I beg you to come with us and make a difference!” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I just wanted to go home. I would breathe in the smell of my old coat and remember the past.

To my surprise, people were actually moved by Marcus. Some would come live with us in secret for a while unless they became bored with the life. Life was dull, I admit. Others stayed with us until the end of our journey together. A couple of loyal citizens informed towns of our arrival. We would be welcomed with banners, flowers, and food. We were given dignity through Marcus’s followers. They respected us to the point where we became full of light. A silvery glow would follow us through the streets. Our names became Mr. and Mrs. Silver. Marcus took pride in the fact they thought we were as valuable as the greatest metal on earth. I was proud of him.

One night, when we were hiding in the woods, Marcus skulked into our tent as I was reading wilting maps. I was tracing lines down the old paper, attempting to find direction in such confusing pictures. My head began to ache when cold, long fingers brushed my white hair from my forehead. “What are you doing, Mrs. Silver,” Marcus whispered. We had decided when the nicknames first came out to call each other by those names. That way, no one would ever truly know who we were. My hand froze in the middle of the line.

“Attempting to find a way to the capitol, Mr. Silver,” I murmured back. Marcus seemed discontent with the answer but let it pass. His fingers wrapped themselves through my hair and twirled the strands. My nerves exploded at his touch. I leapt away from him. “What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Silver?” I cried out. He looked so confused I wanted to cry out and hold him. A realization dawned on him. He could never have me as long as I was who I was. He chewed on his lower lip, considering the situation. Fury filled his purple eyes, turning them a devilish red. He stormed from the tent, leaving me to trace my lines on my maps.

I do believe I had fallen in love with the great Marcus Lee. Even through this realization, I wouldn’t let myself open up to the man who had been caring for me for almost two years. Though life would change drastically, my mind remained. After that night Marcus Lee began working even harder to bring our adventure to an end. I tried to make amends several times, but he would not even look at me. My heart was breaking. I worked even harder towards the project he planned out for us; no matter what I did he would not forgive me for denying him. I couldn’t blame him for never allowing me back into his heart—I couldn’t even forgive myself, why should he have to?

The maps came in handy, though. I am glad I finished them that awkward night. We travelled through the woods with our dozen most loyal followers to the gate of the capitol city. It towered over our heads and our spirit. The buildings were higher than the mightiest tree, and the gates surrounding the capitol were full of agony and wealth. I knew they were bewitched to make any intruder miserable and want to commit some act of self-punishment. I had discovered a way to get past the gates, but did not let it on to Marcus. He didn’t know about the pain the gates made one feel. I didn’t want to show him how awful humans could be. I whispered the incantation and everyone was safe.

Through the streets of stone we walked. Lights all around us shined brilliantly; they gave me a sense of hope. We marched through the city with our chins held high. A part of my heart gave way to the thought of changing. I didn’t want to change, I realized. It was too late for that, though. I glanced down at the maps I held in my hands. I rubbed my old coat between my fingers, taking comfort in the familiar smells. Despite the many years since living on the lake my jacket had not lost its scent of that beautiful place. It would not mix with new smells of the woods or the gas ever present in the House of Huse. Smiling, I took Marcus’s hand. He stiffened at the touch, but relaxed. The stones in the streets turned into gold; the capitol building was close. Marcus shouted an encouragement to our followers. “We will bring change!” They believed him—they always believed him. I didn’t dare doubting him.

As soon as we made it to the front gates we were arrested. Our followers couldn’t fight back, for we did not have the power. The police officers had guns. All they had was the spirit for change. Screams and cries for mercy hung over our heads as I caught Marcus’s eyes. He looked at the papers in my hands and bit his lip, like he so often did. He was the one meant to be a human leader for the Service. I could never be, I admitted to myself. The smoke of guns was encircling us, trapping oxygen and making it impossible to breathe. I shoved the maps into one of my hidden coat pockets and took it off. I breathed in the scent of the coat again. An officer grabbed my arm, but still had not recognized Marcus as the leader. I threw the jacket at Marcus and told him to run. He gave me a last look, his eyes filling up with tears—he displayed his emotions too often. He dodged the officers and ran into the capitol building. I watched his long, white braid swing behind his head. Such determination in his stride, I thought.

The officers dragged us miles away to prison and threw us into cells resembling the rooms in the House of Huse. The government kept the followers in there for five years. I was supposed to be set free after nine years because I admitted to being the leader so no one else would suffer. They were not terrible years, though. The prison guards treated us well and with dignity. They were also Service people; they seemed to take pride in the fact we fought the government. I never tried to explain how I didn’t want to fight. It never seemed worth getting Marcus in trouble. If anyone ever found out that he was the one who had ignited the Servants’ pride and spirit, he would get arrested for treason and put in jail. All of our hard work and suffering would be in vain. He visited me near the end of my prison sentence after all the other Servants left. One of the guards told me I had a visitor. They led in a large, imposing man with short, brown hair and skin as dark as it used to be. His eyes were green, which was unusual for a black human. Maybe that is what set him apart from others of his species…

“Hello, Anna Louise,” he grinned at me through the bars. I couldn’t help but smile back at those bright, white teeth. “I am Mark Silver and am here to get you out of here.” All emotions left my face. He was too different. My smile melted into tight lips and I turned from him. I sat on my hard mattress and stared at the floor. Mark banged on the bars, begging me to look at him. He told me he was sorry he hadn’t come sooner, but he had to wait many years for the surgery to settle. Becoming a human was hard work and frowned upon in most societies. After he was accepted as a true human in society, he travelled around the world to preach of the Service and its necessary freedom. Years past, and he had gained enough influence in the world he could come back to save me from prison. I blocked his voice from my mind. A couple hours passed. I heard him walk away from me. I fell asleep on my hard, cold mattress. My last thought was that he didn’t come back to me soon enough.

The next morning I woke to find my old jacket on the ground. It still smelled of the lake, even after all of those years. There was a note in the pockets, along with all the old maps I had gathered in my time with the great Marcus Lee. I read the note and allowed myself to feel sorrow. Marcus Lee, right before his alteration, had written his last words to me: My dear Anna Louise, I do wish things could have gone differently for us. I’ve often imagined a world where you would be with me, but I know you could never be happy living that way. You will want to be a Servant as long as you live. You are pure. I know you have always doubted the power of the Service and wanted to be left alone in a home of kind people. I will arrange for you to be sent to a new house after I’ve gained some influence in the world. They will be much kinder than the doctors. After the surgery, everything will have changed for me—except how I feel about you. Yours truly, Mister Silver.

Marcus Lee kept his promise. I was sent to a house in the capitol city called the House of Gorbe a year and three months before I was supposed to be freed from prison. The Gorbe family is extremely kind, though not as influential as the doctors were. I was accepted into the house through the recommendation from Mark Silver, the leader of the new world. He visits often and wink at me from the corner of my eye, but never speaks to me personally. He faded from my everyday thoughts a while ago. Every once in a blue moon my mind drifts back to him and the way he looked at me long ago—like I meant everything to him. His dark, green eyes fill my vision in the middle of work sometimes; I have to sit down at these moments. The Gorbes never yell at me for resting on the job, though I do think they get annoyed. They believe I am getting old. They don’t know all the adventures I went through. Mark Silver can never tell, and I will never betray him to tell my stories. He makes the most of his life, and I made the most of mine through him.

Sometimes, I dwell on him and my life in the woods. They calm me down when life becomes a bit overpowering. The trees tell me their ancient stories, and in return I divulge to them mine. Their skies weep with me as I do. They sob when I don’t have the strength to. In the forest, I remember all the memories while I was on the run from humans. They are good ones…they allow me to get through what remains of my existence. I can also remember the lake. The scents are all so similar, so they comfort me. I can feel the water as I fall asleep in the undergrowth, waiting for something—anything—to take me back home.