Variqua; Rise of the New Leaders

Chapter one--Dreams (Present day)

Chapter one: Dreams (Present Day)

       “Zakwel! Don’t let go.” I scream in panic. He holds my hand—it being the only thing that prevents him from falling off the now broken Variquan bridge. What once was made with our purest materials now is falling apart, barely keeping its purpose of being there. I slightly get pulled off the bridge by his weight and he notices. His facial expression now reveals two main things; his sorrow and his plan to let go. He loosens his grip and as a response, I tighten mine.

       “No. Don’t you dare!” I shout, crying.

       “You need to survive more than I do Rean.” He replies. He smiles and lets go of my hand.

       “No!” I scream as an icy liquid substance wakes me up from my horrid dream.

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I sit up immediately as the cold water seeps through my almost useless old blanket and my one and only night gown. A voice full of hatred and disgust snaps me back to reality.

       “That’ll shut you up.” The blonde, blue eyed human says as she puts down the bucket and smiles victoriously.

       “What do you want, Miss?” I reply, making sure that the word ‘miss’ is stressed. I stand up, trying to wipe off the brown liquid from my skin. I wait as she looks at me in revulsion, thinking of an order for me to fulfill in this dump.

       “Clean this place.” She starts. “It…smells already.” I sigh inwards.

       “Will do Miss.” She frowns at my tone.

       “Oh, and make sure to clean yourself too. I smell something from you. I bet this place smells ‘cause of you.” She adds in.

       “Yes, Miss.” I respond, letting go of my irritated tone.

I quickly change after taking a cold bath. Warm water cannot be afforded by us orphans. The ones who run this place keep the good things all to themselves, for their own needs. They do not maintain this place because they care for us; they do so for the money. ‘Typical’ I think to myself. In all my centuries of living in this humane world, people like these seem to cross my path every day. Though it is not rare to see people with actual feelings and loving emotions, it is also equally unusual to not come across with people who have close to no feelings.

I fix my bed and head down stairs, occasionally meeting hateful glares amongst the other children who have dwelt with me in the past two years. It isn’t my fault really; they just seem to get intimidated by my bright blue curly hair, black tattoos that now go up to my arm, and my eyes. My eyes are the greatest feature that I got from that day. I remember it like it was yesterday.

**

I am floating on air. Both my arms are raised, slightly above my shoulder. For a second my markings start to appear; emerging from my left hand and going all over me. For another, they retreat back to where they came from and what remains is a small black design on my left hand.

As I float in air, my medium brown hair starts to grow slowly. My hair changes color as it lengthens—the greatest shade of blue I have ever laid eyes on. It curls, while it elongates, into fine almost glowing locks and stops at my waist line; same as Variqua’s.

This sensational feeling starts in my eyes again. My clothing morphs into a long sleeved loose dress that is tight on the stomach area and is a little bit below the knee. It’s color was of the purest white I have ever laid eyes upon.