Chapter 2
10 and a half years passed, and instead of an innocent little girl called Alaya Mariah, a tall fearless warrior with the same name stood in her place. She was now as soulless as Lightprotectors are trained to be. And like other Lightprotectors she had no emotions.
Alaya woke up in a sheet of sweat, a fading image of her mothers’ body and her blood on Alaya’s hands. This nightmare had possessed her nights ever since that dreadful day, even though it was a struggle, she soldiered on. She got out of bed at four in the morning. She started her daily routine of getting ready for a weeks’ worth of hard training in one day, with no mercy. She went to her bathroom and put her hair up in a tight plait, she couldn’t afford any of her hair falling out and distracting her in the midst of training. After that she put on her heavy black gear and went to the cafeteria to get her morning dose of the source. She had to be at the training room by four thirty. When she got there every body else was already in line getting their names called out.
She swore as the trainer disappeared and reappeared with his hand around Alaya’s neck and Alaya held up against a wall. “Why are you late, Alaya?” he hissed in her face.
She was losing her breath, she started to cough but hid it as well as possible and she still wasn’t afraid of him, of anything. Just at that moment the other trainer, Petro, the elder one, yelled to the snake-like Lightkeeper. “Put her down, Zadian. She is a soldier in training. We actually do need them; we’re not training them for the fun of killing them at the end. What would be the fun in that?”
Zadian whispered to Alaya, “one toe out of line,” he threw a punch to her ribcage, “and I can do a lot worse than that.” He threw her to the ground, leaving her winded, and spat at her.
She stood and went to her first training activity, which was, like her others, about killing things. She took her blade out of her weapons belt and threw it through the air with maximum thrust. It landed in the chest of a manikin where there should have been a heart if it were real. While everyone else was throwing their blades she decided that it would be a good time to cross the fifty meters that separated her from the manikin to get her dagger back. While she walked calmly towards the manikin she was also dodging other people’s swords at the same time. But she still remained calm and unafraid.
Time passed and as Alaya looked at her watch it was 4:59 pm. One more minute, she thought. One more minute, then we’ll get our assigned tasks, I hope it will be good, please not a London werewolf, please not a London werewolf. The reason being that London Werewolves tend to be strategic and are usually in packs or clans.
“Alaya, you’re assigned task.” Zadian said with a snake-like grin that split his face. He handed her the envelope with her name on it. Alaya took the envelope and started to walk away when she was opening it. She looked at the piece of paper inside.
Name: Alaya Mariah
Assigned task: Werewolf; Eric Spaniard
Location: London; Hyde Park.
Happy hunting J
Alaya groaned. I’m pretty sure he can read minds or something, she thought in her head.
That afternoon she started to prepare for her task ahead so she went to the weapons vault. She picked up three silver daggers, and a pouch full of silver dust.
On her way out of the vault a particular sword caught her eye. It was an arms length from shoulder to finger tips, it was white gold, it had a decoration of flames moulded into its hilt and it spread and faded down a quarter of the blade, and it was beautiful. She absentmindedly started to walk towards the blade. Her arm outstretched. She was millimetres away from the hilt. When, she caught site of a shadowy figure, racing towards her out of the corner of her eye. In a movement so fast that the figure did not see it she pulled a weapon out of her belt and aimed it at the shadow.
