The Sanctuary

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Papa,” I screamed, my lungs hoarse. “Papa, please let me out!”

I banged on the wooden planks above me, my tiny fists raw and bleeding with the force I put into my blows. I could feel my lungs tightening, and I choked on my short, rough gasps. Tears were no longer streaming down my cheeks, seemingly dried out. My fists fell to my sides. I stared at the wood above me, my body shaking with silent sobs. A ringing was blaring in my ears.

 

 “I can’t breathe, Papa! Please, please let me out!!!”

It was then that I heard it. A single trumpet blare that signaled the King’s Army. I froze in complete fear. The cold sweat on my back became more prominent, and I didn’t make a sound. I heard muffled voices, the sound of horse’s hooves.

Quiet voices that turned quickly into shouts.

The door of my house, kicked wide open. The sound of thundering shoes above me, the rattling of the floorboards.

The terror that gripped my heart.

“There is no one here!”

The sound of skin against skin, a punch or a slap.

The feeling of my nails digging into the soft skin of my palms. The silence.

And then the roof above me, that I hated so much, torn away and light assaulting my eyes. My father’s scream, my screams.

 

The smell of blood.

I awoke, my breath coming out in jagged gasps. I could feel my heart hammering hard against my ribcage. My eyes swept the room around me, searching for a familiar face.

“Alaya,” A voice whispered irritated. I slowly recognized it as Reece’s voice, and felt my breath come back to me. “Go back to sleep. Your nightmares are waking everyone up.”

I realized I was trembling. It was strange, these nightmares. They made me feel weak. Like a new recruit, the horrible memories still fresh in their mind.

In most cases, I dreamt of fighting the King’s Army; I was used to those. Yet these dreams…the feeling of being trapped under those floorboards; they shook me to the bone. That inevitable moment where they find me, shaking and shuddering under the floor….I could still taste the blood from biting my lips, the sobs that rattled my body, the tears that wouldn’t come.

Most of all, I felt it all again. The feelings that hovered between betrayal and guilt. These emotions would rush through me, all at once, reminding me that I still could feel more than just anger.

“Do you suppose he’s still alive?” I wondered, realizing a little too late that I had said it out loud. Surprisingly, Reece turned around in her cot, facing me.

“Alaya. He’s alive. If you start thinking our families died, there would be no reason for us to live down here. We must have faith that they are alive.”

I blinked back hot tears.

“I need to find him. If Madame Widow doesn’t let me become a Rider-“

Reece let out a tired sigh. “You know you must wait until you are eighteen to start training. Then you can become a Rider like all the other headstrong fools down here.” Reece turned onto her back, crossing her arms huffily. “Some of us don’t have a death wish and would like nothing more than to stay alive than become a Rider.”

I smiled crookedly at my friend. “And what about fighting for our people? Getting back what we had lost?"

Reece snorted. “Do you really think it is that easy, Alaya? Become a Rider, get back our homes. Ha! Even you know the folly in such whims."

I felt a ball of anger push at my ribs as I took in the harshness of Reece’s words. It was true. The world wanted us dead. But here we were, breathing, living.

Surviving.

Madame Widow would constantly remind us of that fact, too. “The world is a place of violence and crime!” Madame Widow would jeer. “They hate you. The want nothing more to do with you and if they knew you existed, they would take a knife and cut your throats as if you were cattle!”

After a few moments of silence, I looked over at Reece. Reece was still awake; I could see her eyelashes blinking in the light of the moon. Her stark white blonde hair caught the light, making her look quite ethereal. 

“Don’t you want to go back home?” I asked, softly.

Reece turned and tossed her blanket over her shoulder as she did. “I don’t even know what home is.”

I paused. Reece’s parents had found Madame Widow before they were caught raising her and Reece had never quite forgiven her parents for giving her up. At least she knows they’re safe.

I kept my thoughts to myself.

“The Farsay Kingdom is our rightful home,” I said, stubbornly. “We will do what it takes to get it back.”

I could almost see Reece’s eyes widen incredulously in the dark. “And what? Establish the Saiyaran Kingdom and fight the rest of our lives trying to protect it? I’m tired of all the fighting, Alaya.” She sighed. “I would much rather stay down here with Michael than go out there and get chopped up into little pieces by the King’s Army.”

My jaw clenched. The last Rider troupe that had ventured into the Farsay Kingdom had returned back, albeit one who was caught. He had not died a merciful death.

I pulled the blanket covers more tightly around myself. I listened as Reece’s breathing became heavier but I could not find sleep.

It was hard to fight the anger that clouded my heart, although I knew Madame Widow would prefer each child to drown in it. Anger propelled motivation; it made it easier to do what had to be done. Madame Widow was all for anger.

And to be quite honest - I was angry. But the fury that festered in my blood made it harder for me to sit still, to watch our dead piling up at the doorstep. It made it harder for me to stay rooted, when I had no idea if my father was still alive.

I needed to find him. To do that, I needed to become a Rider.