White Thorn | On Hold

The Dagger

Arya didn't wake up in the hospital, surprisingly enough. All it took was one look to confirm that fact. The ceiling was dark, and the room smelt damp, as though it had been unused for many years. A light breeze blew through the broken windows which didn't seem to have any glass in them, adding to the impression she got that she was in a very rundown area of the school. Wherever she was, it certainly wasn't Riverdale High's hospital. In fact, Arya had no idea where the hell she was. The rough stone and rotting wood told her the building was incredibly old, but that didn't help her at all. Although some of the buildings she'd seen on the brief tour of the school had been quite archaic, none had been as dilapidated as the one she was in. Over the years plant life seemed to have encroached inside the old structure, vines having made their way up the wall as well as across the stone floor, covering up the strange spiralling engravings which seemed to faintly stir something in her memory, but she had no idea what. Arya shivered, another cool gust stirring her out of her thoughts as she became aware of something rather important.

She wasn't alone.

She sat bolt upright... at least she tried to. Thick leather straps ran across her body at equal intervals, holding her down to the slab of cold rock someone had placed her on, and Arya had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what she was tied down to.

The strange runic symbols engraved in the walls and floor coupled with the stone slab pretty much spelled out that fact.

She was on an altar, and Arya was fairly certain it was of the sacrificial sort.

Not the most comforting thought.

A strange, unfamiliar scent hit her nose, her vision growing blurry as whoever was in the room with her began burning some sort of incense. Her hands stopped clawing at the stone, her mind heavy with an odd fog which chased away all her worries. She felt warm and fuzzy inside, her eyelids drooping, memories washing over her as she lay there.

***

"Too slow." The Monk teased, dancing back out of the reach of his two opponent's swords. His staff was a blur, soon disarming the two men facing him. "Now... Two down, twenty to go." He smirked staring at the crowd of people armed with different sorts of weapons. "Come on, come on... We don't have all night." Grinning, he spared a glance up at the full moon. "I'll be finished soon, Ari-bear." He murmured, his gaze drifting back to the half-destroyed church building before it returned to the group who'd emerged from the tall forest. "Don't you worry." His voice was soft, and he was completely unaware that the little girl was still watching him.

Instead of hiding away, like she'd been told, Arya Cross was peering through one of the few stained-glass windows that hadn't been broken. The ten-year-old girl had a terrible habit of breaking all the rules that'd ever been set for her, even if they were meant to keep her safe. But some small part of her couldn't help but worry about the Monk. Yes, she'd seen him fight, and she knew he was good, but something didn't feel right. It had her oddly on edge, which was why she clung to one of the Monk's staffs as she waited.

Her suspicions were soon proven accurate, as a tall redhead strode out of the shadows, the silver hoops in his ear cartilage gleaming in the moonlight. "Been a while, hasn't it, Old Monk?"

"You." His lips contorted into a scowl. "So, it's true... You really have changed sides."

"Duh."

"I should never have taught you."

"Ouch, that stings." He grinned, charging forwards, slamming a fist towards the Monk. "Let's hurry up and find out who's better... because I have a feeling it's time for the student to surpass his master."

A staff cracked down on his head. "You're a million years too early, brat." Light green eyes narrowed, annoyance marring his delicate features as the redhead caught his staff with one hand, snapping the shaft into two with a single clench of his fist.

"Sorry, Monkey." He said, regret flashing across his face. "I'm afraid I've got orders, so I can't play around with you."

"Oh yeah... You're one of the Thirteen Fang's dogs now, aren't you?"

"You're outnumbered, and you've just lost your main weapon."

"Are you forgetting about these?" The Monk lifted his fists.

"That's why I'm here." He smiled, but it was a smile that sent shivers down Arya's spine. "You really think you can defend yourself against all of us at the same time?" He tilted his head. "You don't stand a chance without your weapon."

The Monk gritted his teeth, scowling as he prepared a retort, but before he could even open his mouth he was interrupted.

Glass shattered, his gaze darting back to the church. His hand moved of its own accord, catching the staff that'd been thrown towards him like a javelin, two blonde brows twitching. "That brat never does what she's bloody well told..." He muttered, shaking his head. "Though, I suppose it worked-"

A scream cut him off.

Arya's scream.

"Looks like she found whoever was in there..." The redhead smirked. "I can't help but feel sorry for the poor dear..."

"Who?!"

"You'll see." Blue eyes twinkled with laughter, watching the blonde as she strode across the field to meet them, dragging behind her a small very familiar figure.

Arya.

"Let her go."

"Afraid I can't." He laughed. "She's seen too much, so I'm afraid we'll be getting rid of her."

"You-"

"Don't worry." He said, pulling out a dagger, stabbing it into the Monk's chest without a second thought. "I won't make you watch..."

"Don't..." His hand grabbed at the man's throat. "Let her go..." Blood trickled from his lips, his eyes simply watching as the redhead removed the dagger. "You are so dead..." He hissed. "Once I release my-"

A finger was pressed to his lips. "Hush now." He crooned mockingly. "You won't be doing anything anytime soon, Monkey."

"That dagger won't-"

"I know."

The Monk froze. "Don't tell me..."

Lips twitched into a cruel grin. "Sleep well." He said, pulling the Monk by the ankle as he walked into the forest, not bothering to watch as the small ten-year-old girl was hefted into the air by a set of green thorns.

"Oh, Arya..." The blonde sighed gutsily, her green eyes alight. "I've had fun these last few years... but I'm afraid it's all over." She said, merely watching as the girl struggled against the green thorns wrapped around her throat. "I have to go back home, and I can't take you with me." Another dagger appeared in her hand. "So I guess this is where we part ways."

Arya thrashed against the thorny vines keeping her prisoner, her eyes wide as the blonde strode towards her, stabbing the small blade into her chest without a single second of hesitation.

***

"Goodbye, Arya." The familiar voice made her wake with a start, her blurry eyes struggling to see the brunette standing above her, widely spaced brown eyes staring down into her own green ones. "I'll make sure your sacrifice isn't in vain..." She said, lifting the ceremonial dagger above her head.

"Don't..." She croaked, squirming in her bindings, her eyes wide as the blade fell, embedding itself in her heart without a sliver of remorse. Her chest felt cold, an odd sense of familiarity overcoming her while she stared at the ceiling with her failing vision, her lips barely having the strength to form three final words as blood leaked from her body at an alarming rate. "It's happening again..."