The Silent oath

Chapter 2: The Indoctrination

The days after my capture blended into a relentless cycle of training and conditioning, each one more gruelling than the last. The Family's indoctrination process was designed to break us down, strip away our identities, and rebuild us into perfect instruments of their will. The initial training was harsh and unforgiving, aimed at erasing our pasts and reshaping us into members of The Family.

From the moment we were taken, we were no longer individuals. We were recruits, clad in identical black robes that erased any sense of who we once were. Our heads were shaved, our personal belongings confiscated, and our backs branded with the mark of The Family. This was the first step in establishing the rigid structure that governed our new lives.

The training started with the basics. We learned to cook, clean, and maintain the headquarters. Every mistake and every hesitation was met with punishment. We were taught to obey without question, to follow orders with unwavering precision. The Takers and other members of The Family watched us constantly, ensuring we adhered to their rules. For any sign of disobedience or emotion, we were beaten.

I quickly learned that the best way to protect the younger children was to take their punishments upon myself. Whenever a superior singled out one of the smaller, more fragile recruits, I would speak up, challenging their authority. My back soon became a canvas of scars, each one a testament to my defiance.

In those early days, I met the friends who would become my lifeline in this dark new world. Alicent was the first. She was only eight, a changeling child who had clung to me when she was running away from Bart, the Mother's pet cat. Bart had an inexplicable hatred for changelings and Tieflings, and he made Alicent's life miserable. I took her under my wing, protecting her as best I could. In return, she helped me with my studies and fighting skills, becoming my shadow, always by my side.

Aqua, a water genasi, became my close friend as well. We were the same age and had been taken around the same time. Aqua's presence was a source of comfort; she understood my pain and fear in a way that only another child of The Family could. Together, we faced the harsh realities of our new life, supporting each other through the darkest times.

Damion, a red Tiefling with white eyes, was another important friend. Blind from birth, he used his pet crow to see the world around him. His blindness did not hinder his spirit. He met Aqua and me at the same time, and together we formed a bond that would help us endure the trials ahead.

Catrina, an elf cursed as a child to have fox ears and a tail, was older than me by a few years. Cast out from her home, she found a place within The Family. Her curse made her an outcast, but within The Family, it was just another tool to be used.

The structure of The Family was rigid and hierarchical, a meticulously crafted web of power and control. Each rank and cloak group held distinct roles and responsibilities. The black cloaks, ever vigilant, served as the guards, the silent protectors of The Family's secrets. The light blue cloaks were the Takers, the ghosts who snatched us from our former lives. Yellow cloaks belonged to the spies, the unseen eyes and ears in the shadows. The green cloaks were the assassins, deadly and precise, striking fear into the hearts of their targets. Grey cloaks covered the thieves, masters of stealth and subterfuge. Red cloaks, combined with their respective group colours, adorned the matrons, the formidable women who ruled each faction with an iron grip. And above all, The Mother wore a dress of red and gold, a symbol of her ultimate authority. She needed no cloak, for she was the embodiment of The Family itself, handling everything with a presence that commanded unwavering obedience.

One day, during a particularly gruelling training session, I noticed Alicent struggling to keep up. Her small frame was shaking with exhaustion, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. One of the Takers, a tall figure with a harsh voice, singled her out, ready to administer a beating.

"Stop!" I shouted, stepping between Alicent and the Taker. "She's doing her best. If you need to punish someone, punish me."

The Taker's eyes narrowed, but he nodded curtly. "Very well, Zai. Since you're so eager to take her place."

The beating that followed was severe, but I stood firm, refusing to cry out. Alicent's tearful gratitude afterwards made it worth it. She hugged me tightly, her small body trembling against mine. "Thank you, Zai," she whispered.

"Always," I replied, my voice soft but firm. "We have to look out for each other."

This became a pattern. Whenever one of my friends was in trouble, I would step in, taking the punishment meant for them. It wasn't long before my defiance became well-known among the superiors. Some saw it as a sign of weakness, others as a dangerous challenge to their authority. But I didn't care. Protecting my friends, and maintaining some semblance of humanity, was more important to me than anything else.

As the weeks turned into months, the indoctrination process continued. We were taught to blend in, to become invisible, to strike from the shadows and disappear without a trace. The Family's methods were brutal, but they were effective. We became what they wanted us to be: skilled, obedient, and loyal.

But no matter how much they tried to break us, to reshape us into perfect instruments of their will, I held on to my memories. My mother's smile, my father's laugh, the cry of my baby brother, and the purple tree that shone like amethyst. These memories were my anchor, my reminder of who I once was, and the life that had been stolen from me.