Hey guys! It's been a while, hasn't it? But I brought you the second part of Lin's backstory! And for once you'll actually get to see Lin happy without someone creating a fuffy scene XD Of course it'll all be wrecked in Part 3 but I never said that
I spent the next day alone at my house, lost in my own confusion. Nothing seemed real. My brain had seemed to grasp the whole situation the day before, but now it couldn't make sense out of anything that had happened. Had we really been attacked? Had my parents actually died? Was I truly left on my own? Could there be another explanation for all this?
Deep down, I knew what happened, and knew it was true, but the rest of me was in shock and couldn't process a thing. I had never been in such a state before.
I don't know how long I might have stayed in this mental chaos had there not been a knock on my door early the next morning. I opened it to find Michael, the Warner's oldest son. He was about six months younger than me, and I suppose you could consider him a friend of mine. I don't really know, I'm socially awkward and our relationship confused me in a way.
"Hey, Lin," He started.
"What is it?" I asked.
"We're having a memorial service for... Well, you know, everyone. But we've got to get it done soon before anyone tries to stop us."
"Okay, just give me a second." I threw my long, frizzy hair into a ponytail and grabbed my house keys.
We headed out, walking side by side through the chilly air and quiet streets. Glancing at him as we trudged along, I pondered out awkward relationship. In the time our families spent together, Micheal always seemed eager to be with me and have my attention, but at the same time acted shy around me.
I didn't see why he felt the need to be like that. I was far from popular among our peers, and certainly I wasn't anyone people had to be careful around. Sure, I was sensitive, but I always went out of my way to avoid causing trouble.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him watching me. Whenever I looked at him, he shifted his gaze away. Weird. What's up with him today?
We arrived at the town square, where everyone was gathered. And what scared me was that "everyone" was only a fraction of the people that were supposed to make up the town's population.
"Is this... All who's left?" I asked in disbelief.
Micheal nodded. "Luckily we were all asleep and they passed over our house..."
"I'm glad you're all safe," I mumbled. Judging from the crowd, they were one of only a few who escaped unscathed.
The service was nice, and the other people there gave me lots of hugs and sympathy, but I felt completely empty. I had lost everything... Nothing mattered to me anymore. I felt bad that I couldn't receive the kindness of the townspeople. Yet at the same time, I felt bad that they were giving it to me in the first place... For they, too, had lost so much.
It was a mess for me. By the end of the mass funeral I was crying just as much because I was so confused about everything as I was about losing my parents.
I was ready to run away and get back home when Mr. Warner approached me. "I found some other things of your parents' that I thought you might like to keep."
I took the oddly shaped bundle from his hands. Thanking him, I headed back home as fast as I could.
I slowed as I came close to the house. Clutching the mysterious package Mr. Warner had given me, I wondered what it contained. It was small, hard, and rather heavy. As I headed through the gate and across the yard I felt another gentle wind. It started out feeling warm, then cold. How strange.
I went inside and set the bundle on the table to unwrap it. In it was my father's watch, a pair of earrings my mother wore, and two matching daggers.
Though I appreciated the thought, the watch and the earrings really weren't worth anything. I knew he had taken them just in case. But the daggers... I had never seen those before, and I was intrigued by them.
I studied them with much interest. The silver metal of the blades gleamed in the dim lights of the house. I hadn't turned most of them on yet. The handles were wooden, smooth and stained dark purple. The part between the blade and the handle was shaped in a sideways "S". They were simple, but in my eyes, beautiful.
Looking at them gave me a thought: My mother had used these to fight evil. Couldn't I use them to do the same? The threat was still out there. I had something to live for, something to fight for... Everything was clear again.
I was surprised when I felt another breeze, considering I was inside the house and all the windows were closed. It must have been one of those weird drafts. But it felt just like the last one: Warm, and then cold.
The day was drawing to a close, and I readied myself for bed. It was much easier to sleep that night, and the next day looked as bright as the daggers sitting on the kitchen table.