Chapter 11 - A Scape Goat

IT WAS A HOT DAY. The days leading to winter were usually like that; hot, sweaty and Jonn was planning to go into the village market and walk around as he had been doing for the past ten years since his arrival in this town where nothing happened.

If he walked around a lot, he might see someone whom he could fine for a ridiculous crime, some of which he made up on the whim. That usually provided him some entertainment but he had to admit that even that was becoming old and boring – and some coins.

It was the one and only reason why he liked this backward place. The coins.

Jonn turned on his heels, ready to make his way out of the tiny office and into the village when his eyes caught something which brought a large smile to his face. He wouldn't have to entertain himself with such trivialities anymore, not when he now had a case.

He picked his hat from the hanger where it had been collecting dust for the past ten years and patted it down, then swiftly placed it on his head. He was finally going to do what he came here for and that was capturing Sorans.

Jonn glanced one more time at the device which beeped incessantly and wondered if the Soran it was warning him about had always been in this village, hiding under all of their noses or if it was someone new.

He could not make up his mind on which would be more exciting.

***

Judithe allowed the men drag her away. She did not allow her eyes to stray to the counter where her child hid, neither did she let the men stay one more minute in the house before she gave them what she knew they were looking for.

"I and those men are the only Sorans here." She dais, pointing to the group of men who had arrived with Dylan. They were now scattered everywhere in her house – which was now a mess, once pristine and neat – and weaving threads into weapons to fight against the soldiers.

"I don't care." The leader of the soldiers – Jonn – said. She recognized Jonn.

Everyone in the village recognized him, he was their oppressor, the thing which no one wanted to encounter, he was worse than a mindless beast.

It was a shame though that he could not recognize her. That he was now staring at the woman who gave him the scar which ran from the tip of his receding hairline, down to his upper lip and he could not recognize her. If he did, he was not saying.

For the past ten years, since his arrival in their village, she had been trying hard for their paths not to cross, but perhaps, fate had more in store for them. She gave the house which she had lived in for the past twenty-four years one last look and knew that it would take a miracle for her to see it again.

***

"… GETTING OUT OF IT IS IMPOSSIBLE." The man said.

What he did not know was that impossible was a word she never used. Nothing was ever impossible, there was always a way to get out of any problem, her mother had thought her that.

She watched as the men took her mother away, yanking her by the collar and throwing her carelessly into their hover vehicles.

Then, she watched the man, as his eyes skimmed about their now messed up house, perhaps looking for the other men which he had come with. Slowly, she reached behind her, into her quill and snapped an arrow head, trying as much as possible to make no sounds.

She gripped the arrow head tight and without warning, buried it in his arm with all of her might – the same spot where he had stabbed her mother with his sword – she almost smiled when a scream tore from his throat.

"That was for my mother." She spat, yanking the arrow head out of his flesh. This time, she smiled in satisfaction as she heard his flesh tearing and another muffled scream escaped his mouth. She jumped to her feet as soon as she felt his grip on her lessen and ran out of the house.

"Don't bother coming after me!" she yelled back as she ran. "Else, I will make them get you too."

Dylan sprang to his feet, cursing under his breath. Perhaps, he had underestimated the girl, she was ruthless and that was a good thing, not a bad thing. Still, the pain in his shoulder made him to spit curses at her.

She had taken him completely unaware and now she was on her feet, running after the vehicle which carried her mother.

He tried not to think of what would happen if she caught up with them and she lost her temper. Her magic might just come bursting out of her and she'll be announcing herself to them as the Yajan.

He couldn't let that happen, he had to reach her before she reached them but before then, he had to stop the bleeding on his arm. The arrow head which she had used as her weapon had severed an artery and he might just bleed out till he became unconscious.

***

ELARA knew something was up as soon as she saw the thrumming in the threads. A powerful Soran was in town and whoever it was had just tapped into the magical energy. She turned on her heels, whether this was a good thing or not, she had no idea.

All she knew was that, if it was Arthur, she had to protect him.

If she had been able to sense the use of magic, then the device which the dark lord's soldiers always carried around would have sensed it too and they would be on his tail soon, if they weren't already. She turned on her heels and began to march out of the forest when a hand caught her and pulled her into a shrub.