TWO
Dawn. My name was Dawn. The girl thought.
Well, at least that’s what Dro said, well actually, at least that’s what her pendant said. The large man, Dro, and the three boys still stood before her. “Your name is-“ “Drogo.”
He cut off. “It means Phantom. It’s my spirit name. Just as your’s is Dawn, the rising of the sun.” He spoke, carelessly, almost sounding without interest. “Where am I?”
Her voice hoarse. “You’re in the Falgonia, child.” But she was certainly not a child. But, where is Falgonia? What is Falgonia? The young girl’s thoughts overwhelmed her “I see the confusion on your face, child. I will show you.” He spoke. With that, he turned, looked over his shoulder towards her, and hinted for her to follow. Dawn scurried out of the bed, dragging the sheets accidentally as she tripped while trying to recover. The three boys, stood there giggling in spite at my awkwardness. Of course, they would.
The exit to the tent-ish homey, den, cave thing, whatever it was, was narrow. But Drogo lifted one side of the curtain and pulled it, as it expanded. It was still winter outside, but the winter seemed less harsh than it was before, it was calm, almost unreal. “Drogo, should we tell Captain?”
“Yes, immediately.” Drogo spoke back to a boy, smaller than the three before, and he scurried off. Drogo leaded the girl to a pathway, leading towards a higher ground, possibly a mountain. The walk up this mountain was voiceless, Drogo never spoke once to the mysterious child, as he preferred to refer to her. But as they had reached the top, his voice was heard. “Look down on your people.”
“My people?” She asked him. “Yes, your people.” Below them, was as they called it, “Quarry 4” around, in the shape of a large square was another mountain, and another, and another. Three others besides the one Drogo and the girl were on. And each mountain was closed off in a square, a fence, fencing off each quarry and their own mountain. It didn’t look natural really, to have four mountains un-connected. And fences inclosing all these separate groups of people, or “Quarries.” “Come on now, child. Get inside, we don’t want anyone seeing ya.”
Drogo’s rough voice interrupted her convoluted thoughts, I don’t think I could ever get used to that voice of his, the girl, Dawn thought. When she had turned around, she had expected to see a little rundown shack, to what he was referring to as “Get Inside.”
But no, It was a large and beautiful manor, with envious stain glass windows. “Hurry now, child.” Drogo forced her tiny body through the narrow doors. She could barely see at all, it was so evidently bright inside, brighter than it was outside. And it reflected rays of red, yellow, blue, green, from the stain glass. But when she turned to look at this stain glass, her mouth dropped open in shock. Her eyes narrowing, pulling her eyebrows and furrowing them.
It was her. It was her hair, that complicated shade of mahogany. That was red, but it wasn’t, it was brown, but it wasn’t.
And yet, they got it.
They got her colour, whoever they were. And her eyes, irises of jade, complimenting her high cheekbones, and rosy cheeks.
It was her.
There is not a doubt in the world that it was not her. She was on a white horse, a bow and arrow on her spine. And the people around her, oh the people. They looked so happy, jumping and laughing, their expressions readable. But, there were no girls. that was odd for Dawn to process, she was a girl. But why is she the only girl?
“The story doesn’t start here, child. You must read the story from beginning to end, to understand the meaning within. Drogo moved her shoulders as he said this, dragging her to the left, where apparently the story started. That stain glass piece had a large hand, cowering over the Quarry, showing it placing a person down into it. “It’s a prophecy.”
Drogo explained. "Every day, The Retrievers are sent out, to find those who have been dropped, placed in the outer woods of the quarries. Since there are Four quarries, It’s basically kill or be killed. Whomever you found, you found. Having more people in your quarry meant progress. And that meant your Quarry was best.
The only thing is that, we don’t necessarily know if the people we pick up are always human.” He spoke. “Not human?” Dawn questioned. “Cyborg. Whoever The Makers are, also made cyborgs. It’s a test, if we can tell apart the living and the fiction-living. Our quarries are doing well and they want us to fail, so they put our smarts to the test. They want to see how intelligent we really are.” He scoffed. “How do you know I’m not a cyborg?”
“Because child, your heart beats. At first, we didn’t know humans had a pulse, they simply created us without certain values of knowledge. Again, they want to put us to the test.” He continued. The girl simply nodded her head, and moved to the next stain glass, a large red card with a convoluted symbol of a mixture of curving lines was on it. “A red card?”
“If you haven’t seen one yet, you will soon. The Makers drop them all over the place around here. The red cards can only be seen to those who they are meant to be seen for. I can’t see your cards and you can’t see mine.” He explained thoroughly to the confused female before him. Never in all his 22 years had he seen a female. And he was astounded, even if he didn’t seem it. “Strange.”
The girl mumbled, Dogo held back a chuckle. Dawn moved on, the next stain glass had her more confused than the one before it. It was a silver pendant, much like the one that hung around her neck, much like the one that also hung around Drogo’s. And beside the pendant , was a back. A human back with un-decipherable writing at the bottom of it, and a little image below the writing as well. It was like a never-ending puzzle.
“This is something all of us have. The pendant tells us our spirit name, and the age at which we were dropped off on the other side of it.” Drogo’s eyebrows flickered as he informed the young girl. Drogo lifted his pendant and flipped it, showing Dawn a carven 9 on it. Dawn’s eyes dropped to her chest, she was scared to look at here’s. How old was she? 16 her pendant said.
She was young. From her recollection of the knowledge put in her brain, 16 is the age that you really get to be a teen, go out, party,kiss a boy, go to prom. But none of this ever happened. None of this ever will. Well, at least not for Dawn, that is. She was brought back to reality when the strong voice of a strong man that she had started to become used to- interrupted her. “This one,” He paused.
“This one is my favourite.” A smile, creeped his lips as he spoke. It was a large group of boys, all of their heads down, a forlorn expression placed upon each of their faces. “Why are they sad?” Dawn asked. “Look closely, child.” He continued. Some thing can not always be seen by the ever-so naked eye.” When Dawn looked again, recollection struck her like a train- dead in it’s tracks. There were no girls, that’s what was strange.
“Yes, child, no women.” “But, why?” It’s the story of the prophecy, you’ll see as we read on.” She nodded her head, still lost in the art before her. “When was the first boy dropped?” Her small voice asked. “The first documentation was approximately 93 years ago, Falcon. He was dropped here at the age of 19. They had given him the knowledge to start everything.
Write down about what is happening here, all the things that he did, all the new people that were dropped off, hell, he even built the manor we’re standing in. As the place grew, he layer out rules, shaped us into the quarry that we are today.”
Wow, Dawn thought.
There were no other words to explain it. The stain glass next to it was the girl who looked like Dawn, again. And the boys bowed down to her. In her arms were younger boys, from maybe ages 1-4, latching to her, like a child would to a mother.
“This is the prophecy. That one day, a woman will be dropped off to us, her name is Mother Queen, the saviour of us. The young boys need a mother, and the men, they need a lover. But not in a sexual way, in a gentle-natured way.”
He carried on, “Falcon wrote down once, ‘There is nothing more appreciated than to be touched by a woman through soul, nothing like it to hold.’ The boys here longed for a woman to bless their lives for years.” “How were there young boys there if there were no women involved?” She couldn’t help it, her curiosity got the best of her.
“They are dropped off in the wood. That is why we search constantly so urgently. Well that, and of course for you.” He explained to her. Her mouth formed into an ‘O’ in understanding. “And that’s the prophecy, that a woman would come to save us.” He smiled. “I think you all will be underwhelmed, I am not a heroine. I cannot save you all from havoc.” “Yes you can, and you will. The cyborgs have come together, formed an alliance by The Makers. They are trying to challenge us. And they will until the prophecy comes true. And they will try to make it impossible for the prophecy to be completed. They will try to take you away from us, away from protection. Not only them, but the other quarries. They want a woman as much as we do.” Drogo’s voice was trained, he looked tired.
“I will try, but I cannot make promises.” She whispered to the strange, large man before her. Suddenly, a voice was heard already shouting from outside. “Jesus, Drogo, wake me up in the middle of the day when you know I only gotten three hours worth of sleep last night I-“ The door closed. A man, larger than Drogo if possible stood stern in the doorway.
And suddenly, his body stiffened to the point where it looked like he could break into a million shards of glass, and a blade was pulled out from the side of him, pointing it under the girl’s chin. “Is this another one of those Robot-hags, Drogo?” His voice stiffened her back. “Heavens, Orion, lower the blade man, we have found her.” Drogo’s hand brought the blade away from under her chin, her back pressed tightly against the wall. “Have we really?” His voiced laced in astonishment. But his face never changed from the moment he walked through the door, serious, cold, empty. “Where’s her paper?” ‘Orion’ asked. “See, Dawn. This is another way we can tell between human, and well, them.” Drogo gripped Dawn’s right wrist and pulled down the sleeve. There, was an elastic band with a folded paper latched onto it. He ripped the paper out from underneath the band and both him and ‘Orion’ viewed it. As did Dawn from behind their shoulders.
Spirit Name: Dawn
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Weaknesses: Love
Strengths: Archery
Element: Nature
Tattoo of Spirit: Wolf’s eye.
The green-eyed girl had no clue what half of this even meant. She was still confused as to why she was even here to begin with. “Check her back then.” Drogo came behind the girl and pulled her shirt up ever so sleightly, only so that her Tattoo of Spirit could be shown. Apparently, it was a wolf’s eye. “A flower can grow where nearest is shone.” This ‘Orion’ man read. “Do they mean shone as in ‘the sun shone down on the grass’?” That was Drogo. “I’d be lying if I told you I knew the answers, friend. All I know is that this winter is not the only storm coming.” ‘Orion' had spoken.