The Sanctuary

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

It took us several days to get organized. Reece was beyond herself, since the last time we had gone on a mission, I had returned with a gaping hole in my stomach and Samson had died.

“I don’t understand anything,” Reece had cursed, as she paced back and forth. “Why does it have to be you, Alaya? Why does it have to be you, and Jonrick and Michael?"

“Take care of Kat, will you?” I mumbled back.

Reece just huffed in response, but her eyes were teary.

In many ways, Reece was lucky. Her parents had loved her, much like my father had loved me. They had gotten her away with Madame Widow before the Farsay Army was even aware of her presence. Her life was wrought with missing her parents and her siblings, not as much revenge and anger.

I wondered vaguely how that must feel like.

Kat was another story. I had spent my last night in the Sanctuary in the training room, gloves over my fists, taking her angry punches as well as I could. Her bangs were sweaty, covering her tear filled eyes. 

I was silent as she punched her aggression out, all I could do was watch her small form hit over and over again. My fists were beginning to hurt as the moments went by, until she finally collapsed onto her knees, spent.

I slowly pulled the sparring gloves off, massaging my sore fists. I wasn't good at this sort of thing. But I knew Kat wanted me to say something. Some sort of a reassurance, I guessed. 

I had none to give.

So we sat, her breathing heavily in the dusty space, me watching her silently, knowing there were words to say but saying none at all.

Our party left on a bright, sunny morning. We were a party of ten, but only five of us would venture into the Farsay Kingdom while the rest stayed back as reinforcements. Jonrick, Edward, Chara, Marvine and I were the lucky ones. Madame Widow was stringent that I be chosen to go into the Kingdom, seemingly convinced that I was this powerful weapon that must be unleashed.

It seemed like complete mockery. I was not powerful or a weapon. I did not know how my powers had exploded from me that day, and I was quite sure I would not know how to do it again. I was useless.

But Madame Widow’s word was gold, and so we went.

With no masked prisoner to drag along, we made it to the Kingdom in less than three days, trekking the forest efficiently. Interestingly enough, I was given a seat at the table this time around. When we had the prisoner, I was seen as a glorified maid. Now, the Riders seemed to view me as a partner.

I wasn't sure how that made me feel.

We did not waste a single moment. Nights around the campfire were filled with discussions on how we would infiltrate the Kingdom, how we would get through to the prisoners and retrieve them. Backup plans were made, contingency efforts incase we failed. Previous missions had all been successful, except one. The Rider caught had suffered a horrible death, but from what was seen, he had not spoken any words on our location or our powers.

 Edward warned us to do the same.

 “If by any means, you are caught,” Edward said sharply. “Try your hardest to escape. If not, try your hardest to die. But by no means, reveal the secrets of our people.” He had given me a slight sneer. “God help us.”

 It seemed as if that last part was directed to me.

 The days, we trekked rather silently, sobered by what lay ahead of us. With the previous mission to trade the prince for the children a distinct failure, our confidence was shot.