Revolution

Chapter 4: One. Two. Three.

That night she awoke to the sound of screaming.

She pulled her dagger from under her pillow and scrambled to find the door out of her room, tripping over multiple books in the process. Usually a sword would've been her weapon of choice, but right now she had more important things to worry about. Papa had warned her several times about 'raids', and although she listened, she had ignorantly dismissed it as an unlikely event. Now it was actually happening. Right, she recalled to herself, trying to calm her nerves so that she could properly hold her blade without dropping it. First I have to get out of the house and hide somewhere safe, because if I stay here I'll have a higher chance of being caught.

Another scream. Louder this time.

She wiped her clammy palm against her nightgown and fought down the shiver that threatened to crawl up her spine. With shaking hands, Althea pried open the front door and peered into the darkness. The first thing she saw were falling stars. Only, she realised they were just torches being rushed up and down the streets. But she was too far away to see anything of value. Surreptitiously, she ran out of the house and hid behind a garbage bin. Her breath hitched in her throat as someone passed by her, slamming open a random door and stalking into the house with their sword unsheathed. She felt the unmistakable wave of fear push at her heart and her breaths quickly became short and shallow. Her throat was on fire.

Through the scramble of blazing torches she could make out the blurry outline of a woman being dragged by her hair. A man laying dead on his side. A sword skewering a child. The images flashed across the night, like a series of pictures, each one presented before she could process the last.

Her frantic heartbeat was in sync with the sound of horse hooves pounding into the dirt. Armour and weapons were bashing and slicing through the air. She could hear the barking of angry commands, followed by tearful pleading. And then-

She wanted for the world to stop, she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and just run. But instead, Althea dropped her dagger and squeezed her hands against her ears. She watched helplessly as the light left the woman's eyes and she fell to the ground. Blood trickling down her neck and spilling on the floor, leaving a cynical red halo behind her head. The soldier then proceeded to push her dress to the side and slide his hand up her thigh. Althea felt angry tears prickle into her eyes and her stomach churn with disgust. She wanted to do something. Anything. But she was afraid it would be brash and in vain. What if she became surrounded? There were too many soldiers in the streets and she could easily be outnumbered. But before she could think of anymore selfish reasons not to feel guilty, a boy appeared out of seemingly nowhere, slapping the man's hand away with nothing but a stick. His dishevelled hair poking out from the sides and eyes red with fury.

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" His voice was bitter and breathless and Althea watched in horror as he pointed the tip of his stick threateningly at the man. The solider apparently didn't like the idea of being bossed around by a child, because he sneered cruelly and raised his sword to strike the boy.

Suddenly, Althea felt something click in the back of her mind. She knew that boy looked familiar. Her eyes widened with terrible realisation as she picked up her dagger and rushed towards him, her heart surging in her chest.

The next few seconds were blurred, her actions were purely powered by adrenaline. She remembered running up behind the man and dragging her dagger through an exposed part of his back armour, just before his sword came down upon the boy.Then when the man fell crippled to the ground, she knew she had found her chance.

One.

Two.

Three.

One would have been enough, but she felt something so thrilling about the way the blade crunched through his windpipe and pieced through his throat. It was similar to the sensation of stepping on fallen leaves in autumn. She could smell the intoxicating scent of blood on her hands, it was like a drug to her and at that moment, everything fell away. The commotion, the screaming, even the falling stars. All she could see and feel was the repetitive motion of her hand coming down and barbing his throat. It was exhilarating.

Four.

Five.

Si-

"ALTHEA!"

A familiar voice rung through her ears and within a moment's time, she and the boy were both dragged by their wrists and lead into a sprint.

"P-Papa-" she gasped after a few dreadful seconds, the realisation of her actions finally weighing on her, "Papa, what have I done-"

"Now's not the time, we must go somewhere to hide. Quick! Keep up with my pace."

***

By the time they had reached the underground hideout, Althea was still in a daze. Her eyes were glazed over and her lips were pressed tightly together in a straight line. She sat on the bed and stared numbly at the wall in front of her while the boy continued to cry. Chief had left them a few minutes ago and was in the meeting room trying to rein the discord that zapped like electricity throughout the remaining villagers. She could hear their angry screams vibrate through the floors, but at that present moment, Althea couldn't bring herself to feel any sign emotion.

Anger. Fear. Remorse. Those were words that all fell short of their meaning.

She knew eventually that she'd have to kill someone. It was what she had been training for. But just thinking about the way blood spat out of the man's throat made her fingers twitch with excitement and her heart race with a newfound eagerness that she tried so hard to supress. It didn't take long for her to realise that she wasn't afraid of killing people, she was afraid of herself. Althea stared at the empty wall and gripped her hands until her knuckles turned white. Only when she felt two arms wrapped around her, did she make an effort to snap out of her trance.

"Thanks for saving me back there."

She turned around and saw same boy she had seen yesterday, only without the same humour behind his eyes, without the same glow to his features. Without the same chuckle in his speech. This time his eyes were swollen and the corners of his mouth drooped whenever he spoke. His face was pale and thick beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, washing off splatters of blood as they made their way down his face.

"I'm Tate Stephler, by the way." His words choked in his mouth and Althea could hear the slight crack in his voice. Nonetheless, he brought out his hand from behind him and offered it to her as a polite handshake.

"I'm-"

"I know who you are." he interrupted, although Althea knew he hadn't meant to sound so rude. She gave him a weak attempt of a smile and reached out her hand to grab his. "You're the chosen one."

She immediately regretted the handshake, for when she pulled away, she saw that she had tainted his hand with the blood that was on hers. In a hurry, Althea turned away from him with raw tears spilling down her cheeks. She felt absolutely disgusted with herself and humiliated that she had so carelessly infected his hands with the evidence of her crime. In fact, she wasn't surprised when she heard him stand up and swing the door shut behind him.

Probably for the best. She thought sorely.

A few minutes later she was surprised by a warm towel dampening her cheeks. She looked up towards Tate who had thick heavy tears pouring down his face. He was probably traumatised about the raid. He should be looking after himself, so why-? Althea felt her eyes filling with tears of gratitude as he continued to wipe her face clean.

"Thanks again for saving me." He murmured, messily wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve and moving on to her hands and arms. She gave him a little nod in response and felt her eyes shutting from exhaustion. The rubbing motions of the towel were so soothing, she almost felt peaceful. There were so many questions she wanted to ask Tate, but she had a feeling he wouldn't want to answer them immediately. And frankly, she was too tired to say anything meaningful, so she gave him one last smile before shutting her eyes and drifting off into a fitful sleep.

***

Hours later she was awoken by the quiet sobs of the boy laying next to her.