Nineteen years ago.
It was my sixth birthday and my mother had made me my favorite strawberry vanilla cake.
Back then we wore cream-colored robes with a rope that tied around our wrists like bracelets to show our loyalty to our God Telka.
We had gathered around the wooden table in the kitchen and father had stuck six candles on the cake.
Jenna laughed as I quickly blew out my candles.
"Azza, you didn't make a wish first," Jenna smiled.
I frowned, "I did make a wish, I wished to see the Endrakan!"
My mother and Jenna gasped, "Don't ever use that name in this house!"
"But..."
My mother held up her hand, "That's enough Azza,"
I felt the tears threaten to roll down my cheeks and sucked in a deep breath to calm myself.
The Endrakan was a family heirloom passed down from my grandmother. The ruby necklace was said to hold the power to control a whole army of humans at once.
Long ago, there lived the Enama or better known as the people of the light. The Enama swore on their lives that they would protect the Endrakan from the Radka for as long as their God Telka would allow them to live. The Radka was a selfish group of people and would stop at nothing to get their hands on the Endrakan.
My grandma was one of them.
My mother promised my grandma that she would never show the Endrakan to either of us for fear of one of the Radka finding the necklace.
Grandma flung open the front door, worry covering her face.
"Inta, Argen! We are under attack, the Radka are looking for the Endrakan!"
"Nana Sinia?" Jenna and I gasped.
"Jenna take Azza to her room," Mother ordered.
Jenna nodded and led me upstairs.
I wrestled myself free from Jenna's grasp and sat down on my bed.
After a couple of minutes, I heard someone open the bedroom door.
A Radka, "What do you want from us?" Jenna demanded.
The man had short red hair and a black robe.
He wore a black moon necklace that symbolized his service to the Radkan God Daïun.
"Where is the Endrakan!" The Radka yelled.
"We don't know," I lied, which earned me a frown from my sister.
The Radka left the room, angered that they hadn't found what they wanted.
YOU ARE READING
Girl Who Doesn't Charge her Phone
FantasyTwenty-five-year-old Azza is so forgetful her phone is always on 1%. A murderer is out to kill her and Jenna, will they survive? Also, the story idea was by @Sadpacific
