She looked silently as Ora limped out of the tunnel. She had been tailing her ever since she escaped from the clutches of the First Clan.
She had been trying to clear her obstacles for her but the Scales were fast and efficient. If it appeared that she wouldn't make it, she would have acted but Ora performed admirably.
She wanted to reach out to her but she steeled her heart. It wasn't yet time for them to meet.
If ever.
She felt sad at that thought.
The light was starting to fade. It would be dark soon but she knows that Ora is Safe for the time being. The Scales will not follow without the Claw.
She melted in the shadows and kept a safe distance from her.
This was routine work. She had been doing this for as long as she can remember.
She retreated within her mind and let her body resume the familiar movements.
The photograph was in her inside pocket and her fingers itched to take it out and looked at their faces once more.
She badly missed them.
Her family's memories were what kept her going. Even during the arduous training, she kept those memories close.
Her father was clumsy and overbearing at times but he was so funny. There was no situation that he didn't make her feel at ease with his humor.
Her sisters were annoying at times but they were also fun. She loved them to death.
...and her mom, the one that looked so much like her- she missed her the most especially now.
She instinctively reached for her moistening eyes but restrained herself. Her training asserted itself over her humanity.
She adjusted the lower part of her mask instead more from habit than from real need.
The voices from her past echoed within her.
------- "Crawl lower, you maggots!" The booming commands of the master was like a boot at the back of her neck. It carried the physical weight that made her lower her face to the filthy ground.
She gritted her teeth and crawled. The whistling of the blade above her head accentuated the command.
One wrong move and their heads will go rolling in the mud.
This was no training. It was hell.
She never glanced beside her. She never knew her companions.
These were just blurry faces and muffled voices for her.
She suspected that they were all orphans. No parent would want these situations on their children.
After rolling in the mud and dodging blades and arrows for hours, they barely have time to catch their breath before it is mealtime or bedtime.
She cannot tell anymore which is which. After some time of numbing herself, she no longer felt the ebb and flow of time.
She was busy not dying to notice, anyway.
"You barely touched your food…" a tiny voice startled her and she looked at the pale face of somebody her age.
The eyes didn't have the haunted look in them.
It was alert and full of vigor. It was alien on the emaciated body.
She feared those eyes. They were full of hope.
"You should eat. Not for its flavor - I know it is atrocious, but for sustenance."
She is relentless.
"How can you eat this slop?" she pushed her plate away.
One guard was looking at them silently but his eyes betrayed no emotion.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she grinned and stuck out her tongue.
"They burned my taste buds until I could no longer taste anything," she giggled.
She was astonished at her attitude. Either she is extremely positive or extremely loony.
She wished it was the latter. Hope doesn't have a place here.
Against her better judgment, she allowed the other girl to get close to her. She did all the talking for both of them because she could not trust herself to say anymore than necessary.
Her new friend learned of her name though.
"Ash and Blaine…" She read out loud the names she carved on one of the crumbly walls of their bunker. She looked proud and happy.
That was the last time she ever saw her happy.
Or alive.
The final test of that stage of their training was hardly surprising but it still hit her like a sledgehammer on the chest.
A fight to the death with whomever you get paired with.
She knew in her heart that their overseers saw her closeness with Blaine.
The fights were brutal not because of the wounds inflicted by their weapons.
The wounds were much deeper than those.
She died a couple of times that day...with every cut she made on her body.
No one cheered nor clapped. There's that...or she couldn't have withstood it.
The rope that was tied on each of their wrists to keep them close was soaked with their blood.
After one tiny mistake - a centimeter farther, an ounce harder than necessary, Blaine's sword swing caused her to step slightly forward.
Her back foot wasn't fast enough to establish balance.
Ash quickly dashed forward and pointed her sword's tip at her opponent's neck just far enough to draw a droplet.
"Yield," she pleaded with Blaine.
Her eyes were still full of hope.
Blaine smiled and shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"I'd rather meet my end at your hands instead of them or in some faraway and unfamiliar land in a meaningless war."
"Yield, damn you!" she hissed.
"Bury me, Ash. Say a little prayer for me."
Her eyes were defiant until the moment she calmly stepped forward and let the blade do its deadly work.
She never got to bury her.
All the defeated were burned in a pile while the victors were made to watch.
She did get to say a little prayer before the flames fully consumed her only friend.
A prayer of vengeance.
They all stayed to watch until dawn. When there was nothing left but charred bones, they all raised their swords. --------
She touched her sword handle gently.
On it was carved the word "Blaine".
She wrapped her cloak tighter on her shoulder and disappeared on the deepening shadows of the night.