❝ Pain was my fuel, until the fire began bleeding from my veins. ❞
The girl without a name.
The black-haired fiend devoid of fear.
The sharp-tongued scoundrel always ready with a trick up her sleeve.
Thief and street rat Azura knows how to hustle a...
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◢✥◣ PREVIOUSLY... ◥✥◤
Azura was forced into the healing waters beneath the school. There she was reminded of a harrowing experience before she arrived in Warroll; the day her brother was killed. Shaken, she followed Erasmus' orders readily in becoming a member of the Order.
༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛
My foot taps against the marble floor, arms crossed over my chest as I lean against the oak wall, impatience curling in my gut. No amount of restless sleep will be able to cure the unease that's settled in my stomach like a sack of stones since setting foot in the Order.
I watch the people that pass me, each of them tossing curious and judgemental gazes at me, assessing my worth, perhaps assessing how long they believe I'll last in this nest of vultures. I resist baring my teeth at them like a rabid dog. He warned me about how dangerous the Order can be. They're not just rebels. They're hunters of the world's filth. They're warriors. And I'll never be one of them, even if I wanted to be.
Erasmus rounds a corner, marching towards me like a soldier on a mission, his shoulders tense, his face a firm mask of neutrality.
I push off the wall, eager to be doing something apart from standing around and waiting for someone to shove a knife in my back.
"Thank you for waiting," Erasmus says in his deep voice, stopping before me. "You've healed well."
I touch my fingers to my temple, finding no wounds, the swelling of my eye and cheek having subsided. I swallow, unease curling in my stomach. They can't know I heal fast.
"The healing waters did their job."
I let loose a breath at that, blinking as I remember the warm water, stripping away years of filth. That doesn't mean I'm not a fool. I should've been more vigilant.
I right my new clothes that don't scratch at my skin or threaten to unravel if I tug the wrong thread, needing to keep my hands busy so they stop longing for weapons I don't have. "What's on the agenda today?"
"Your guide will be here soon."
"My guide?"
"Yes, to show you around the school and to your new accommodations."
"You're not showing me around?" I ask, frowning at that. I already feel like a fish out of water but at least I'm somewhat familiar with Erasmus and his brooding features.
"I have a class to get to and I'm already late," he says with a sigh.
A muscle in my jaw tightens but I nod and resume leaning against the wall to wait for another stranger to be thrust upon me. I'm starting to wonder if gaining answers about myself is really worth all of this.
