That morning's practice had gone better than expected. Alita let Elna take the spotlight, allowing her to win their fight, though Alita always came out on top. It was a small, private victory, even if unnoticed by the rest of the tribe.
Weary from the exertion, Alita trudged to the backyard to fetch water, the morning sun casting long shadows along the worn path. The tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by Akeelah's voice, sharp and cutting, slicing through the air like a blade.
"Peaches..." Akeelah's tone dripped with disdain, the word a mockery on her lips. "Here comes the so-called warrior everyone lets win."
Akeelah, her cousin and the eighth child of her uncle's fourth wife was a figure who stood out even among their large, extended family. Ambitious and perhaps the most formidable of her uncle's offspring, Akeelah harbored a deep-seated disdain for Alita that Alita had never fully understood.
Akeelah was tall, and strikingly beautiful, with long golden hair that gleamed in the sunlight, amber eyes that seemed to burn with an inner fire, and skin that glowed like molten gold. She commanded attention wherever she went, her presence demanding admiration from the men in the village, who often overlooked Alita entirely in Akeelah's shadow.
Elna had once suggested that Akeelah might be jealous, but Alita couldn't fathom what there was to envy. Her life was a series of responsibilities, not privileges.
"Nobody lets me win!" Alita shot back, her voice edged with frustration. She hated Akeelah in that moment, hated the way she seemed to revel in her torment. Akeelah had been a thorn in her side since they were twelve, and seven years later, nothing had changed.
"Yeah…" Akeelah smirked, a cruel glint in her eyes. "Ready for our match?"
"What's your problem today?" Alita asked, narrowing her gaze at her cousin. The tension between them crackled in the air like thunder before a storm.
Akeelah's eyes narrowed further, her smirk deepening into something more venomous. "You're perceptive," she sneered, stepping closer until they were almost nose to nose. "How did you catch on so quickly? I hate you."
"What exactly do you want from me?" Alita asked, the question coming out more desperate than she intended. She wasn't in the mood to fight today.
"I want you to disappear and never come back," Akeelah hissed. "I know you saved that foreigner. You'll pay for it soon."
"Akeelah, I don't want to fight you," Alita said, her voice wavering as she tried to reason with her. "Can't we just bury the hatchet?"
"She's scared. Oh, how adorable," Akeelah mocked, her tone dripping with patronizing amusement. "Good. It might save you from being killed by me. I'm watching you, Peaches. We'll fight another day." With a final smirk, she turned and walked away, leaving Alita seething with frustration and a sense of impending doom.
Would she ever be free from Akeelah's malice?
What if Akeelah tells her father that she saved a foreigner?
Returning to the front yard, she found Elna laughing with Bambi, their joy infectious but unable to penetrate the cloud that had settled over her mind. Nearly a week had passed since she had last seen Azrael, the mysterious man whose smile haunted her thoughts like a distant, bittersweet memory. A memory that both scared and intrigued her.
Elna nudged her, breaking her reverie, and she glanced up at the statue of Delpha, the goddess of fertility and nature. Placing the basket of fruits at the statue's feet, she gazed into Delphi's tranquil, smiling eyes and sighed deeply. It was said that looking into the goddess's eyes could bring solace in times of despair, and she desperately needed that comfort now.
The warriors trained until evening, and Alita pushed herself twice as hard as anyone else. Even after the others had departed, she lingered, unwilling to leave the sanctuary the statue represented. Elna remained by her side, her hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.
"Still thinking about that man?" Elna teased gently, trying to lighten her friend's mood.
"None of your business," Alita replied with a faint chuckle despite the heaviness in her chest.
"Trust me, you should focus on our island, not on a man," Elna sighed knowingly, though her laughter softened the edges of her irritation.
Suddenly, a distant noise shattered the peaceful atmosphere—a series of sharp cracks, like gunfire, followed by the ominous rumbling of grenades.
"Did you hear that?" Elna asked urgently, her eyes wide with concern.
Alita had heard it too, the unmistakable sounds of violence. They both turned instinctively, their bodies tensing as the sounds grew louder.
The air filled with cries and the roar of more gunfire, and the peaceful island plunged into chaos.
"No, it can't be happening," Alita muttered in disbelief, her heart racing as they sprinted toward the main village, dread tightening around her chest.
Foreign invaders were everywhere, armed with weapons that tore through their island like wildfire, consuming everything in their path.
"This can't be real," Elna whispered, her voice barely audible above the sounds of destruction.
One of the invaders seized Alita's mother, and a fury unlike anything she had ever felt surged within her. She charged forward, but before she could reach her, a deafening explosion and a powerful gust of wind knocked her off her feet. Her vision blurred, and the world around her descended into chaos.
Objects flew through the air, caught in the swirling vortex of wind. She looked up and saw a massive whirlwind forming in the distance—or was it a tornado, summoned by some dark sorcery?
"No…" Alita whispered, terror clutching at her heart. Elna was beside her, gripping her arm tightly as she tried to steady them both amidst the storm.
The tornado's relentless winds threatened to lift her from the ground. She kept her head down, shielding her eyes from the debris and dirt swirling around them. The air was filled with cries of anguish, from their people and the invaders alike, all horrified by the wrath of nature unleashed.
"What's happening?" Elna screamed, her voice barely piercing the roar of the wind, her fingers digging into Alita's arm for support.
In an instant, a tremendous force swept through the village. And then... darkness. The world tilted, and she lost all sense of time and space. Everyone except the witch hunters seemed to be drawn into the tornado, their screams echoing in her mind as they were swallowed by the storm.
She stumbled to her feet, desperate to reach her mother and family. But it was too late. They were gone, consumed by the merciless vortex before her eyes. She fell to her knees, overwhelmed by grief and disbelief. The island that had been their cherished home now lay empty save for Lena, a fellow warrior, and Elna, who stood beside her, unwavering.
She glanced at the invaders, their faces reflecting the same shock and confusion that churned within her. Who could have unleashed such devastation upon them?
It was clear that Azrael the dragon she saved had betrayed her.
Betrayal gripped her heart. A sharp pain shot through her neck, and she instinctively reached up to touch it. Her head throbbed, and the world spun around her. The invaders' voices filled the air, but their words were just noise.
A sudden pain hit her stomach, and she collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by despair. Darkness closed in, blurring the line between what was real and what wasn't.
Everything faded away.