The Lost World Of Victa

Chapter 8: Ruined Childhood

"I'm here," a voice speaks. I blink. It's the golden angel from my other dream, the Keeper.

"Who is that person? Is he the same boy who's responsible for my father's arrest? Why did I pass out? Because that's what happened, right? I'm dreaming. This isn't real? Maybe I just didn't recognize this necklace... it looks similar to my amethyst one...maybe I just don't remember getting it...please I need answers..."I ramble off, lost in thought. I'm looking at the blackness of the ground.

The Keeper, the golden angel, hugs me and speaks softly, as a mother to her scared child, "close your eyes."

I do, and I hear incomprehensible whispers in the silence.

"Now, whenever you're ready, open."

I wait a minute, not sure if I'm really ready to have answers, but I know I can't stay like this forever, so I open them.

I'm in an underground cavern, with oil lamps and ten or fifteen cots littering the floor. Kids ages 1-17 are all occupying the cots. They're huddled together, and the older ones are soothing the younger ones, telling them stories and comforting them. There's a door, but it's locked from the outside, and two other doors with a male and female sign on them, marking them as restrooms.

Some of the kids are crying, and they all have an empty look in their eyes like they've given up on the world because it's given up on them. I start forward, wanting to comfort them, but a hand is on my shoulder. I turn and see the Keeper, more ethereal this time, almost translucent. She smiles, bittersweetly.

"This, my dear is the past. You cannot change it, only watch. I'm sharing some of my power with you by showing you this. It'll help give you answers."

"Ok."

I look around and notice one boy, about eight years old, cowering in the corner. Some of the older kids are eyeing him nervously, hesitant to intervene, worried he might break.

I walk over to him, wanting to see more. I kneel before him, and stare him down, taking in every detail. He's got glasses but they're on the floor, cracked and covered in dirt. He looks as though he's been through the gutter, scrapes, and bruises everywhere.

I sigh. This little boy looks so sad. Then, suddenly, he looks straight at me and cocks his head to the side, like he can see me. His eyes are storm colored, beautiful and terrifying, gray and blue and green all at once. He looks scared.

I yearn to touch his hair, to comfort him, even though it won't do anything.

I turn towards the Keeper and she nods. I turn back to the boy and touch his forehead. The world flashes and images, memories start flooding me.

"Sissy, Mommy, don't let the men take me," a boy's voice, my voice, shouts at two red-haired girls, my little arms reaching out as I'm being dragged away from my family.

"No, please, stop," I scream at the guards as they drag, not towards the truck, where I'd be transported to the capital, but to an alley. I'm kicking, struggling, but they're stronger and they're punching me.

"Help," I yell, trying to get anyone's attention before the guards pull a cloth around my mouth, planning to sell me on the black market for my high MMP. They pull and pull and I'm being torn apart.

"No more," I scream, tearing at the binds, letting the emotions fill me. I see a silver light, a silver tendril extend from my body and attack the first guard, stabbing him in the heart. The other guard starts to run, but my magic is faster and it impales him too. The tendril then finishes removing my bindings, and I fall to the ground, soaking in the blood of the men who stole me from my family and planned to sell me.