She was twenty-two when it happened.
Recently admitted to the Order, she was scared and confused. Suddenly she found herself in a new world, where different rules were valid. She was treading very carefully, intimidated by the sheer size of the organisation and its rules.
Getting admitted into the Order was strange. One could not apply. One just got admitted. Amelia was approached by a couple of people who met with her on several occasions. At the time she thought they were very interesting and she enjoyed talking to them. They had refreshing views on life, magic and evolution of the soul and Amelia was drinking it all in like a sponge. But then one day she was told she could choose to become a part of their community. She was not told its name, what they actually did there nor did she know how many members it had. She was just told it was an organisation which focused on self-development and magic.
She said yes without thinking.
At the time she desperately needed a change in her life. She felt she was standing on a threshold and it seemed that everything was standing still, waiting for some kind of an impulse, a push in the right direction. And it seemed that getting admitted into this strange organisation without a name was the answer she had been waiting for.
Once she passed through the ritual of initiation – or in her vocabulary, survived it – she was at once given tasks. And even though some of them were very strange and she could not understand why they wanted her to do them, she buried herself in work.
Mere months later she found herself experiencing her worst nightmare.
She remembered the screams. She remembered how the Order members were dragged away while she stood frozen to the spot and watched, wide-eyed and unable to move, as people tried to defend themselves but were taken mercilessly away.
She remembered the shots.
She remembered how she felt detached from her body and how her spirit watched everything happening, like in a dream. Her body was paralysed with fear and her brain was a mere observer, unable to process what was going on around her. Someone stepped up to her and she remembered a quick dialogue going on.
They asked for her name, but she was unable to speak.
"Not her," she heard a voice. "She's not on the list."
Hands picked her up gently and she watched the walls skim past her as someone carried her down the corridor. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest it felt as though her whole ribcage was vibrating. Cold, dry wind felt like knives on her warm skin and she turned her head, trying to catch a glimpse of the building she was carried out of. But before she had a chance to see anything, she was placed on the back seat of a car which began to move as soon as she was inside.
A clammy hand was pressed on her forehead.
"Novice Amelia," someone whispered. "Are you all right?"
Amelia looked up.
An elderly man she recognised as one of the members of the Order was leaning over her.
"I'm not sure," she answered.
She barely managed to speak. Her throat was dry and her lips felt glued together. What she just managed to say could have looked like a strange case of ventriloquism.
The brother leaned forward and she felt something being pressed against her lips.
"Drink," he said with a note of sadness in his voice.
She gratefully took a sip. The icy water managed to somehow bring her back to the reality.
"What happened?" she asked.
The brother sighed.
"You are safe now, don't worry," he told her.
"Did they… I mean… who got shot?" she stuttered.
"It was a grand conspiracy and Washington had to intervene," said the brother. She was aware of another person sitting beside him and one more sitting at the front, but they were all silent. "But it's all right now."
Amelia stared into the night through the tinted windows. Even though she was still in the state of shock, suddenly she felt great comfort in the warmth and presence of the man who was sitting beside her. She barely knew him – she knew he was a member, but that was all. However, in this moment, nothing was more welcome than his warmth beside her and his arms which were draped around her shoulders, which were still shaking.