The Cleansing (Book One: The Folara Chronicles)

006: Jerrika

004: Jerrika

In ever increasing waves of pain Jerrika tried to stand, repeating in her mind the deep seated belief she had always told herself. I am Jerrika. I will never give up! I am from the Kingdom of Aquaria! I will fight to the death! I am Jerrika!

The pain seemed to furrow in at every crack and crevice as if it seeped and clung to her very soul. If she closed her eyes, the pain stabbed at her closed lids, if she opened them, the agony of color enveloped her. It bombarded her senses and kept her bound.

            I am Jerrika! I will never give up! I am from the Kingdom of Taan! I will fight to the death! I am Jerrika!

The pain ceased abruptly and Jerrika sank to the floor, holding her head in her hands. It would come again. She had no choice but to endure it. It had been like this since the first moment of awareness inside Auditorium. Voices screamed at her: You have failed! You are nothing! A failure to your people! You are nothing! You have failed!

They would try to break her. They would try.

             I am Jerrika!

But this time, the light dimmed and the stone wall in front of her gave way to clarity. A wooden door near the light opened and a beautiful woman walked in. Jerrika wondered if this were a trick of her tortured mind. The woman wore long dark gray robes over a white tunic. Her mouth was thin, her fingers laced together in front of her, covering her slender waist.

The woman's eyes were intent. There was no hurry to her, as there had been when the Minions brought her into this prison room to await assimilation. When she tried to focus her eyes blurred with effort. She hadn't slept, nor eaten since her capture; fear gnawed at her. The anticipation of the unknown assimilation was killing her.

"I am Adara. I am the Witch of Castle Quildor. You are being held here by his command and his alone. Tell me your name."

Jerrika couldn't answer. There was no protocol for when a searcher was captured. Her trainers and Galantyne himself had offered very little by way of what to expect. It was simple. No one had ever escaped.

Adara came closer to Jerrika who was chained to the rock wall at her back, her arms spread, her legs disabled by a long piece of wood anchored to the cell walls. The witch used two fingers to turn Jerrika's face to look at her, and Jerrika projected the burning hatred she felt.

Adara, the witch had once been a revered Lady of the High Council of Aquaria-- a generations old advisory council whose origins were on their former planet of earth, and whose efficacy included wielding the power to invoke and revoke the kai bond that allowed the settlers to breathe inside the mountain. The council was seven strong, and was respected for the development of mystical powers that had saved the settlers lives. They had brought the forbidden earth magic with them and been able to use it for good.

"I see that you know of me already."

Jerrika leveled her gaze, and nodded, blinking in undisguised anger.

Adara turned away, swinging her long dark hair over her shoulder. "I am curious."

Jerrika closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of the one she knew had come to assimilate her, take away her will and make her a slave to her enemy.

"What do they say of me, Princess? What do they make of the Council Woman who betrayed them?"

"You are dead to them." It was the first time Jerrika had spoken and her throat felt scratchy at the lack of use and the lack of water.

Adara's laugh came too quickly. "Dead? Yes. Sebille is dead. The woman I used to be-- chained to ages old laws and restrictions. You see, they keep their place and their honor by holding just enough planetary magic to be useful. But they never had the insight I have." She shook her hair and then flung her arm out and turned to stare into Jerrika's eyes. "I see my powers influencing, no, controlling a King, girl, a King, do you hear me? Quildor needs me! He gives me honor and prestige."