Fate of the Blessed

Amara

Two figures stepped out casually from the dilapidated fountain a few feet in front of me. I took a step back. One had ash coloured hair that flicked out from his face. His face bore a smouldering smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. They were cold, dead. I took another step back. He smirked as his piercing red eyes stared into mine. It was like he was eying up his prey.

Oh, shit.

I held his gaze; I wanted him to know that he did not intimidate me, but my hands shook, betraying my sense of confidence. I wanted to move away from him. The fear inside me was growing stronger. His smile grew wider, but it still didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello, little bird, what is your name?” he asked innocently, but the intention behind it was much darker.

“Amara,” I said, surprised that it came so easily. I hadn’t wanted to give him my name, but I couldn’t stop myself. Anxiety formed in the pit of my stomach. It consumed me the longer he stared. I tried to break eye contact, to no avail. It was like trying to move a mountain. The more I pushed, the less it moved.

Was he causing it?

“Are we lost?” Amusement rang out in his tone. My fists clenched and unclenched as I struggled to maintain my composure, the smile on his lips grew wider and his eyes became wild. This was not the situation I wanted to be in.

“It’s been a long time since we had a plaything.”

Was he enjoying himself?

The one behind him took a stride towards me. His long dark ember locks framed his face, his dark brown, almost black, eyes held an evil glint. He was older, his looks sharper and more defined. He slowly lifted his right arm towards me, only to be shot down. I gaped in horror as my limbs failed to do my bidding. My mind was yelling at me to run, but my body wouldn’t obey.

“No, Deimos, lets have some fun first.” He never took his gaze from mine. The terror was palpable. What was their idea of “fun”? I couldn’t speak with the distress that emanated through every pore of my body. My legs buckled under the pressure.

“Is she the one Aeron is looking for,” Deimos asked. Phobos shrugged his shoulders?

“Who. Are. You?” I choked out. I needed to pull away or things were going to end badly.

“Well, I guess it’s only fair you know my name, too. I’m Phobos, this is my brother Deimos.” His taunting tone sent a chill up my spine.

“Deimos, why don’t we give Amara a proper greeting.” He said.

“Fuck. You.”

His eyes blazed in anger; a hand whipped in front of my face, knocking me to the ground. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. A sinister smile spread across Phobos’ lips as he lifted his hand again towards me. I flinched, waiting for whatever fresh hell he was going to inflict on me, but he instead waved it towards his brother. It was a signal.

Suddenly, my senses were overloading, it suffocated me. My lungs burned as I gasped for air. Tiny spots danced at the corners of my eyes. Don’t let me lose consciousness. My breath became more frantic. I clawed at my throat, willing air to enter my lungs. I took in large gasps as I tried in vain.

Their laughs rang out in the distance. An upsurge of warmth flowed through my body. This had to be the end for me, but their sniggers changed into yelps of surprise. Time slowed down as I observed my hands to find them covered in an aura of blinding yellow light. Phobos’ smirk had changed into a snarl.

I took another peek at my hands; I saw them glowing brighter as the dread left me. In a rapid flash, the entire street filled with a light as bright as the sun. Then it disappeared. I fell to the side, letting my head rest on the cobbles, welcoming the coldness. Exhaustion washed over me, like the light had sapped my strength. I lay there, not moving, panting.

A sigh of relief came upon me as I sat up and wiped the blood from my lip. It smeared across my face, not caring I left it there. My breathing returned to normal, but the dull throbbing returned to my head. I groaned in response. Give me a break!

What the hell had just happened?

I put my hands out in front of me and pushed myself up onto my jelly-like legs, grunting as I did so. I did a turn to take in my surroundings and I found them still as bleak as before. However, I couldn’t see them anywhere.

Did I kill them? I had so many questions swirling around in my brain. I shoved them aside to come up with a plan as needed to find help. They mentioned somebody called Aeron and that he was looking for someone.

Could it be me? I’m not anybody special. Had I imagined it?

I stood there awkwardly in the middle of the street. The strange neon lighting gave the only bit of colour in this grey purgatory. Hopelessness washed over me. I always had a plan, but nothing plausible would come to me. I was in a foreign empty city, with no money, nobody to turn to. I wasn’t even wearing shoes. I looked down at my feet, surveying the dirt encrusted between my toes, and sighed. It would have been nice if they had left me with slippers or something.

“They have gone way too far this time.” I knew deep down they weren’t the culprits behind this. It had to be something far bigger. Tears trickled down my cheeks in droplets, they splashed onto my nightgown. I wiped the tears from my eyes.

“It’s not a prank.” I glanced up, looking for the source of the voice.

Great, more arseholes to contend with.

“Over here.” It sounded like a male voice, deep and resonating with a thick Australian accent. I did another slow turnaround, not sure if I wanted to find out where it was coming from.

“Look over here, dipstick.” I spun towards the alleyway a little way down the street. There stood a man, no older than 21, glowering back at me. His eyes were friendly and inviting, his dark blond hair slicked back, the edges flicking out at the nape of his neck. He wore grey sweats and a black t-shirt. His feet, like mine, were bare. He seemed so different from Phobos and Deimos, but I still kept a cautious distance.

“Stop gawping like a fish and come here, unless you want them to come back.” I had to make the split-second decision to follow him. What should I do? I huffed, deciding I had nothing more to lose I took small steps towards the mysterious man. He hopped from foot to foot, inspecting either end of the street like he was expecting something else to jump out at any minute.

“Do you actually speak or is a shocked look all you can do?” Humour clear in his soft brown eyes. I didn’t know how to take him or whether, in fact, I liked him.

“Do you at least have a name? I’m Connor.” His words came at a million miles per hour. So many questions kept getting fired my way.

“Amara.”

I still couldn’t relax in the company of Connor. Even though his presence was calming and peaceful. Maybe he was trying to lull me into a false sense of security?

“Do you know where you are?” He asked, but I stopped moving towards him.

“No, I guess not.” I let my eyes travel to the floor as I blinked back unshed tears. I longed for a warm blanket and a hot cup of cocoa. That would make everything okay again.

“Come with me, I have someone you need to meet.” He held out his hand. Against my better judgment, I placed mine in his.

I guess I don’t have a choice.

“I don’t need saving, you know, I’m not some damsel in distress.” He ignored me, but I said it more for my benefit rather than his.  

“We need to get out of here, he’ll already know you’re here.” The weight of his words sunk in. Things are probably about to get weirder. He tugged at my arm. I followed him along the alley that I had awoken in. I pulled back.

“It’s a dead-end I’ve just come out of here.” He ignored my statement again, pulling me forward. I watched in amazement as the bricks on the buildings slowly formed into foliage and branches. An opening presented itself in the trees as I trailed after Connor.

You certainly aren’t in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.

A waft of pine hit my nose. I inhaled, a comfortable aura settling around me.  I had no choice but to move forward; It could’ve been a trap, but I had no more options. As the cobbles under our feet changed to mulch and earth, we came upon an old wooden cottage. It sat in the middle of a clearing in a forest.

A porch wrapped around the house; the once sea blue of the house had faded into a dull blue-grey that chipped in places. It looked tired and run down but welcoming. Connor let go of my hand and motioned for me to come with him. I stood gawping at the house.

“You’ll be safe in here.” He said.

As I followed him, my head swam. The intense throbbing returned. My legs gave way beneath me and I tumbled to the grass, scraping my arm on the branches as I did so. I heard Connor shout my name. Then everything faded to black.

Talk about not being the damsel in distress.