"The enemy will always cheat, Isla, you need to be prepared for anything."
Isla and her siblings have lived in a cave for as long as they can remember with no memory of how they got there or who they were before. They only remembered two things...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
This Picture was taken in Glen Nevis in Scotland.
We come to a large oak door with black hinges and a large lock. Iona pulls out a key and the lock clinks as she turns it. Inside is a small stone room. I smile as I see our weapons sitting in cases in the room.
"When you were brought here, we made sure your weapons were safe," Iona tells us. I nod my head, walking over to the glass case where my weapons sit. It is good to see them again. The silver patterns on the weapons all sparkle as I lift the glass case off of them. I place my hand on one of the daggers then gasp as images flash in my mind.
I look up at a woman who smiles down at me. She holds my hand delicately and I can see her hair of lilacs gliding around her. She warmly smiles down at me and I smile back. I love her, my mother. We walk into a room. In the centre is a glass case full of sparkling weapons. My father already stands there, beaming.
"Are those mine?" I ask, excited, my voice sounding much younger. My mother laughs.
"Yes," she says, lifting me up so I can see them better.
"They're pretty," I say in my young voice.
"They were made especially for you!" My father says, coming over and taking me out of my mother's arms and holding me. I wrap my arms around him, still looking at the sparkling weapons in the case.
"I want to touch them," I say, leaning over the case trying to reach them. My parents laugh as they try to restrain me.
"I want to show Toryn!" I yell. "and Enzo!"
"Not yet, little Isla," my mother says, her voice soft and loving.
"They are for when you are a big girl," My father says. I look up at him, feeling tears in my eyes.
"I am a big girl."
"Yes, but not big enough. Toryn isn't getting his yet either. Neither are your sisters."
"But Enzo has his!" I shout. My parents laugh again.
"Because Enzo is a big boy."
"He's only two years older than me!" I screech. My father puts me on the floor.
"He was ten when he got his weapons, you will be ten when you get yours," my mother explains. I look up at them again and sigh.
"Okay," I tell them.
"You're just going to have to make do with your training weapons for now," she tells me. I roll my eyes and sigh a little huff of annoyance.
"Fine," I mutter. They laugh again, each of them taking one of my hands.
"We love you Isla, you'll get them when you're ready," my mother says, looking down at me with a soft delicate smile on her beautiful face.
