War of Praisers

Chapter 19

There weren't many things I had to do in my life which made my chest hurt, but this did. Having everyone, who we are leaving behind, hug us and wish us luck seemed like we were marching to our death. Maybe their inner voice of terror is right. Maybe we are marching to our death. I never minded the though of dying before, probably because that I what I was trained for, prepared to offer my life to a complete stranger, my master. Except that Yakov wasn't a stranger, he isn't just my master. I realize now that he's my friend, just like the others. Gloria and Grace stand arm in arm as they watch our ship fly over Ora's house, she stood in the middle of the field in her back yard watching our ship rise from the dust. Joshua had his arm around her shoulder, letting her lean against him. It took me longer to find Robin. Now Robin was trained for his knowledge and skill with electronics, so you could imagine my surprise when I found him sitting on the roof watching our ship with an impassive face. His face was impassive but I could see, even from our big distance, that his eyes hold worry and tears. I can't take it anymore and I snap my gaze from the window and try to focus on something else instead. Mike is flying the plane, out of our view seated in the cockpit. I focus on the other two boys in the opposite side of the plane from each other. Ewan calmly checking his gun and knives, and storing the safely in his suit, the same white suit he came in. He didn't have anything else he could use. Ewan's face was calm and controlled. Reminding me he is used to this as well as Mike and I, reminding me that he is as much as a killer as I am. As much as I hoped that would give me comfort that I am not the only one, it didn't. I didn't want him to be a killer. Even though he grew up in a torturous place, he still held innocence. Something I can't say for myself.

Finally my gaze wanders to Yakov. At this moment him and Ewan show me how different they are. While Ewan remained calm, Yakov sat shaking in his seat, I don't think he realizes how nervous and scared he actually is. I guess it isn't easy to go to a place where you have assassins looking for you. He isn't a Praiser. He doesn't think like we do, he values life more than we do. More than I do. He may be shaking but his eyes are hard and fierce. As terrified as he may be, he is also ready to die for his people. I remember when he told me that I am the only one who could read him like an open book. I don't believe I can, it is just what I believe he is thinking and basing on my logic thoughts I try to see it from his point of view.

I lean back into the soft chair of the plane and play with the tight black fabric of the shirt, the one I came in when we arrived at Oras. I ditched the skirt, so that I was only wearing the tight black pants and the black shirt, I don't wear the glove. The ugly pattern of the scar ran over my hand, reminding me it ranged until my forearm. I wince as I touch it. It didn't hurt, but the memory which was burned into my mind reminded me mentally of the pain. I don't feel my self touch my own skin, the scar is numb, you could cut the scar open again and I would feel any pain physically. I suddenly feel eyes on me and I look up towards Yakov, but he still remains staring into space. I turn my head to Ewan. His eyes are stuck on my hand I had been tracing.

"Does it hurt?" His voice innocent and pained, yet still curious. I remember his own scars and I can't help but wince. He sees this and his face quickly changes to shame and worry. "No, I am sorry. I didn't mean to." His voice is panicked. He thinks I winced because of his question.

"No, it's ok. I didn't wince because of that." I try to assure him, but then again, I may have winced at the both. "No, it doesn't hurt." Physically. But I don't add that. I don't want him to worry. No one should worry about me. This isn't about me.

Ewan stares into my eyes, and I return it. His blue eyes giving me comfort.

"I am sorry." He speaks suddenly. His voice deep but cracked.

"Why? About what?" I tilt my head slightly, Ewan never apologized much. Not in the Facility.

"I should have one too." his eyes are locked on my covered scar and I move it out of view and his eyes meet mine again. "I should also have what you and Mike have, what all f the other Praisers have. A scar of reminder." But you do. I can't say it, it would be cruel. But he does, more than just one. He has enough reminders. Why should he have more?