Fate and Destiny (The Fated Series, #2)

Chapter 2 - Rohana - Against This

Willa is the old hag Kerrigan sent with us and the wench that thought this mountain of cold winters and too hot summers was the perfect place to stay for nineteen years. Okay, so she's not a withered, grey-haired, wrinkled, cranky old lady, but she's still old in my eyes. Eight hundred and seventy-five years she's been alive. A bit long if you ask me, but most immortals could live up to thousands of years if they're healthy, and Willa's still spry enough to keep up with us in the sparring rings. She's the most experienced in Thralia, and her name is suiting to her powers. She can shield herself and those around her from anything, render people invisible, smother your senses, heal a stabbed heart in seconds, bear wards for years on end, and is immune to any power influence of any kind.

Willa: Resolute Protection.

Being the oldest and wisest, she's been the "Great Lady" of Hollis Mountain. I wouldn't call her our Queen, but more like our...manager. She handles everything from keeping track of our supplies to keeping this piece of lump rock a safe haven. My sisters and I will sometimes maintain the wards when Willa is beginning to drain, but aside from that, we mainly keep all the idiot teenagers in check. A huge downgrade from what we're supposed to be doing. They're a small group, but they're crafty. They like to sneak out to Histra and enjoy some of the travelers going through Shephard's Pass. It's a pain to have to go and retrieve them and then have Tanith wipe the clueless trader's minds. I'd rage for having her waste her power on something so vulgar, but she needs to release her grip on the power every now and then. We all do.

Our powers are a complicated treasure. On one hand, they're helpful in a fight, but on the other, they cannot be fully contained. Hold in too much and it will start to feed on you from the inside out until it kills you. Or you release it to the last drop and sleep for cycles on end. If you use it to the last drop, then you're left vulnerable in a coma. Makes for easy killing. So we need to use our powers regularly to keep it from spilling over the edge like boiling water in a pot, but we also need to have as much of it as we can for when a certain birthday finally arrives and gets rid of the ink of intertwined circles on the inside of our wrists. Luckily, the entirety of Thralia is trained to defend itself. We learned centuries ago that we will be hunted and cut open for even the slightest sliver of our powers, so the moment you reach double digits, you're taught the basics of keeping yourself alive if you were kidnapped.

If you choose to, you're allowed the right to go to the nearest training camp and learn more. The only problem is that if you choose to do so, you'll know nothing but the campgrounds for a decade. No contact with anyone outside the walls whatsoever - not even family. You're secluded and kept to a strict schedule that has you learning in a classroom, practicing both with and without weapons, and only breaks in between for a meal or sleep. It's not as bad as it sounds. Aside from the busy schedule, you're assigned to a small faction with about eight to twelve other students. The selection is random, and you're always put with the students who arrived in the same cycle as you.

My sisters and I became quick friends after being stuffed into a faction together. We spent our decade in the camp constantly pushing each other to the limits. We knew what the instructors were going to ask of us since we were the only all-female faction in the camp, so we would push our cots against the walls of the square room, and continue training when we should've been sleeping. Our goal was to become the quickest, fastest, strongest, and most lethal faction in Camp Daleka. It was rare to have a faction of all women, and we wanted to prove ourselves to others. When the time came for the Trials, we were already feared and highly targeted.

It pushes my buttons constantly that for the past twenty years, we've been nothing but ghosts that are now used as babysitters and maids. Guarding the lives of the ones we vowed to guard is one story, but keeping the pants of those in the mountain on to keep our population to a controlled number, is a whole other story. Not to mention that we can't trust anyone else aside from me and my sisters to go to Histra for supplies, and all in bulk and for a decent price too. Speaking of supplies, it looks like I'll be taking another trip into the dry town.