Mianite- Season 3

Chapter 21: The Help of a Goddess

Martha's POV:

It was the middle of the night, and I was getting ready to go to sleep. I ate a small dinner and dumped the dishes in the sink, not wanting to wash them. I was worried sick about Cypress, who had gone off in search of a leader that would help him. He hadn't returned, as far as I knew. 

As I passed by a mirror in the hallway, I caught sight of my face. I stood there and stared at it for a few minutes, taking it in. Considering my growing age, I didn't look a day over 30. Perhaps it was because of my immortal mother that I was aging well, or perhaps the fact that I was, technically, a goddess. 

My powers. I stared at my hands, which were aching to take down all of Galena, steal back Gaines, and get to Zincite as quickly as possible. That was the only place to go, wasn't it? But, no matter where I had to go, I knew I couldn't. This was an enemy far more powerful than any I had seen before, which was terrifying, considering I had met World Historian. As far as I knew, Galena had the ability to even take down him. Now that, more than anything else, was a scary thought. 

Practically shaking in front of my reflection, I jumped a foot in the air when I heard a sharp knocking at my door. It sounded frantic and heavy, as if someone was throwing their entire weight against my door. I glanced nervously at the clock, and saw that it was 1 in the morning. Who was at my door? Hesitantly, fearfully, I opened my door. A woman with short brown hair spilled into the room, and the first thing I noticed about her was that her multicolored eyes were puffy and red, and her cheeks were stained with tears. 

"Martha..." Ambrosia croaked, trembling. "He's dead... he's dead..."

"Dead?" My head began to spin, but I forced myself to think straight. "Who's dead? What happened?"

A sob shuddered through her small body, but she forced herself to continue. "C... Cypress. They shot him, Martha. Shot him for no reason."

My hands went over my mouth, and I quickly closed the door so nobody could overhear our conversation. "Where? How?"

Ambrosia shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, as if silently begging me to stop asking questions. "That's... not the worst part, I don't think. They took Spark. And they're going to do something much worse to him."

"THEY TOOK MY FATHER?" I shrieked, then remembered I had to keep my voice down. 

She nodded, leaning against the wall and covering her watering eyes. "They didn't kill him, but they might. They're going to... take his memories, I think. Brainwash him and take his knowledge. What they're going to do with it is unthinkable."

I realized suddenly that Ambrosia wasn't brainwashed, but pushed the thought out of my mind. It wasn't the main problem at hand. "What can we do about it?"

"Nothing," she whispered. "That's the worst part. Unless we can somehow escape to Chrysoberyl and beg for help."

"What do they have that can help us?" I asked. 

"A goddess with working powers," she snapped, as if it was obvious. "Unless you happen to have a goddess on hand, I think that might be our best shot."

Her furious expression faded when I glanced down at my hands and up again, a hint of a smile forming on my face for the first time since I had arrived in this disgusting place. 

Cypress's POV:

I knew what I needed to do. It would be incredibly risky, but I needed to do it. I didn't have many options, since I was bleeding badly and there was an intense pain spread throughout my body, so this seemed like my best bet. Who else could I get help from?

The visitation center was abandoned, nothing in it but blood stains on the floor. The door was closed and locked so no outsiders could get in, but, by reaching across the desk, I was able to easily open it. As I slowed down to a jog, I hid the gun I carried from sight, so as not to be suspected of anything. 

It took what seemed like forever to reach the train station, but I finally did it. I strode into the station with an air of authority, preparing the words I was going to tell to the workers. They were most likely brainwashed, so I doubted it would be very difficult. 

"What are you doing?" the person working there gasped, as I suspected he would. "You're bleeding! Why are you leaving Galena? They can heal you?"

They can, but they won't. "Look," I began. "I'm part of the crew that's investigating the latest attack on Galena. I need to go to Chrysoberyl to gather more information."

"You're in no condition to travel!" he argued. 

"This is urgent," I snapped, straightening so as to seem taller and more intimidating. "Injuries are not my main concern. This is for the good of Galena. By stopping me, you're stopping your entire city. Is that what you want?"

His eyes widened at the accusation. "Not at all!" He cleared his throat and gestured for me to enter the train. "My apologies, sir. You may go to Chrysoberyl."

I climbed in and waited a few minutes for the train to start up. As it sped off into the night, my necklace blew with the wind, pressing against my body. I looked down at it, and, realizing it had blood on it, quickly cleaned it off. I clutched it for comfort, casting my thoughts out to my sister, who, hopefully, was safe. 

Spark's POV:

"The first step is the brainwashing," the scientist was explaining to another scientist, a man this time. "It'll make it easier to take his memories. Do you think we can get this done quickly?"

"Within fifteen minutes, in fact," the scientist answered, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "Don't worry about the time."

I squeezed my eyes shut as I was pressed against the machine, something wrapped around my head. I felt dizzy all of a sudden, like all of my thoughts were swirling around. 

Don't let them take it from you. 

I fought back, concentrating on holding onto my way of thinking. When I tried it, it was suddenly easy to keep control of my thoughts. The swirling was stopping, but the machine was not. What was going on?

Fifteen minutes, which seemed like no time at all, passed. I was taken out of the machine, and faced the scientists, who were now smiling at me. 

"I told you that you would be happier," the scientist told me, her voice soft and falsely sweet. "Wasn't I right?"

"Yes," I replied, forcing a smile and a nod. Clearly satisfied, she led me out of the room, to what would inevitably be the room where I would lose my memories. 

I was able to avoid the brainwashing, but would I be able to cling onto my memories as easily?