Seeking Revenge

CHAPTER FIVE: LARKEN

I'm seven again. I'm seven, living in the little village filled with Halfbreeds. I didn't know at the time, but Halfbreeds had been officially outlawed mere hours before. My parents knew, though, and they were rushing around--rushing me around--having me pack my things in a large sack.

"Come on, sweetie," Mom coaxed, helping me shove more clothes inside. "Hurry up. We have to go."

"Where are we going?" little me asked, eyebrows scrunched together trying to understand, shoulders tensed with apprehension. Mom and Dad froze for a moment. Shared a glance.

"We are going on an... unexpected vacation," she said with a tight smile, her onyx eyes betraying the calm facade painted on her otherworldly face.

Despite my wall of suspicion, a sliver of excitement squeezed its way through. "Really?"

Mom knelt face-to-face with me, grasping my little shoulders. "Yes, love. We are going to visit your grandparents for a little while." Her voice was calm, but she kept glancing out of the window. Dad was still rushing around, stuffing things in bags.

And then, there was a scream; a scream filled with such terror that it made my blood run cold. The shrill cry acted like an alarm, rousing the silent village into a scene of mass chaos.

The rumble of footfalls grew louder as they drew nearer. Within the village, more screams erupted. I stood paralyzed in the center of the room, staring out of the window.

Halfbreeds of all different sizes, shapes, and kinds were racing frantically from their homes, not even bothering to lock the doors, with large packs hugging their backs as their families trailed behind.

But they didn't get far.

Hundreds--no, thousands--of Warriors had already encircled the village, each one bearing a torch and a sword, not leaving an inch of room for escape. Every second that ticked by meant they took one step closer. And then they stopped.

And the village began to drown in their own panic.

I was pulled away from the window just as the Warriors roared a battle cry, shaking the ground with their advance. I hardly even realized I was being dragged to the far side of the room. There was a noise. Then I went down deeper. Everything was dark. When someone snapped their fingers in front of my face, it acted as some sort of magic trick. Everything I had bottled up inside came rushing out. 

Thump thump thump thump my heart was out of control, my lungs couldn't keep up. My palms moistened. My mouth had never been so dry. I wondered if this was what it felt like to die.

"Larken! Larken, you listen to me, now," Dad ordered. Though I could barely hear him over the rushing in my ears, I turned my unfocused gaze on him.

"I need you to stay right here, you hear? Do you hear me, Larken?" he repeated. I nodded, sniffing up the snot trying to escape from my nose. He stilled for a fraction of a second, watching me. I thought his own eyes started glistening, but before I could tell, I was pulled against his chest. Pushed back to arm's length. "Don't move."

And then Mom was there.

"Do you know what your name means, sweetheart?" she asked. Waited for an answer. Didn't get one. "It means 'fierce warrior.' Can you be a fierce warrior for me?"

The question made me think of all the infamous heroes whose stories I'd been told. It made me consider the way I was acting, and how no hero I'd heard about would have tears running from his eyes and snot running from his nose. I stood taller and gave her the slightest nod, wiping my cheeks. She tugged me closer, kissed me on the forehead, and as quickly as she had come, she left.