Okay, apparently there has been some confusion I just wanted to clear up. This is the story originally called The Energy Within, but I shortened it when I updated the story. This is still the origin story of Aryan, so you don't have to worry you're reading the wrong thing. :)
Aryan's POV
A princess locked in a castle. The thought of me in a poofy pink dress, sighing dreamily from a large tower, was enough to make me shutter. But that about summed up where I was at right now. A damsel in distress waiting for a nonexistent prince. A regular Cinderella, covered in dirt, blood, water, and sweat, my "dress" torn to pieces. I gave the cold steel bars another shake, leaving them undisturbed as usual when I flopped down against the side wall, cursing in anger. I had tried everything to break myself out, even going so far as to fracture my shoulder blade ramming into the bars so many times. I was high on the adrenaline then, which was now fading, leaving me against the stone cold wall of death prison, trying to keep from crying out in pain. Swallowing tightly, I looked down at bend in my left arm, past the ugly red that surrounded it to the smooth skin of the inside of my elbow. Though it was almost invisible to the eye, I knew it was there. The tattoo, so small and so delicately hidden in one of the injection scarred veins was a small code. GE11825114.
I leaned my head against the cold back wall, letting out small laugh. Closing my eyes, I felt the energy from each injury in my body travel like a wave, my burned skin, my broken bones, the bullet holes in my shoulder, one not yet completely healed before the other. Every scratch and bruise I had endured. And when you thought about all that pain, it just starts to hit you. I let out another small laugh as I clutched my shoulder, feeling my eyesight begin to blur even under my eyelids' artificial darkness. "I guess you didn't get everything perfect." I whispered to no one in particular. "I'm still fragile. I still break like a doll." My last word slid out between my teeth like a snake as I felt my body begin to fall over, being seduced with unconsciousness. Slipping into a drugged sleep, induced by pain.
"Aryan?" I felt my eyes dart upwards towards the woman dressed in black and white, the smile on her face mixed with both misunderstanding and sadness. "Aryan, sweetheart, your Uncle is ready for you."
I blinked twice at her, looking back down at the Barbie I had been playing with only minutes ago. With fingers steady as a drum's beat, I let the knife I had curled tightly in my fingers dance through them like water, slamming it down into the floor. The blade made yet another indentation in the wood floor's already ruined finish. I stood up carefully and slowly, brushing off any stray blonde hairs that were on my clothes. I had been playing hairdresser.
I remember my shirt, it was one of my favorites, purple striped with little flowers, faded from so many wears. I tried to smile at the nurse, but for some reason, today I couldn't. Today I just couldn't bring myself to lie to her, to tell her that everything was going to be okay. She smiled at me though as she ushered me into the other room.
I remember the soft feel of the cotton of my shirt as she and the other nurses carefully pulled it over my head, exchanging it and my jeans for a black turtleneck and black leggings. I remember her hands in my hair as she pinned back my normally free hair into a tight bun. There was a new nurse there that day, she whispered to the others as I opened the door into the dark hallway.
"This is a monstrosity! That girl can't be more than ten years old!" I remember the other nurse responded.
"She's not. She's only eight."
I closed the door quickly after that, not wanting to hear anymore as I entered the dark concrete hallway, not letting my feet make any sound as I walked into the first open room. He was exactly like I remembered him, always pressed and in a suit, as if going off on business. Dark hair, always neatly combed with that nasty cologne I couldn't stand, but I didn't dare say anything. I never knew his real name, nor did I assume he knew mine. He turned and smiled as I walked in, opening his arms as if for a hug. My eyes went down to the floor.
"The nurse said you were ready for me, Uncle." I said, quietly but confidently. I looked back up, taking care not to look him directly in the eyes. He smiled.
"Yes, I am, my dear girl." He side stepped, revealing a small table behind him, I began to walk over slowly, but he raised a finger. "Ah. Ah. Ah." He said, scolding men as one would scold a child. "You know the rules." I didn't put up a fight, casually raising my hands above my head as I walked towards the table. When I got close to the edge, I raised my hands higher, making sure he could see them.
"What will I be using today, Uncle?" I inquired quietly. He smiled, reaching towards the small object on the table, encased with fabric.
"This." With that simple word, he threw back the fabric, revealing a longer dagger, with a double-edged single blade. I swallowed, reaching out to take the blade into my hands. I began to play with it, letting myself get the feel of the new weapon. My Uncle smiled wider and stepped towards the door on the other side of the room, laying his thick hand on the knob. "Whenever you're ready." He said in his cat-like tone as I walked quietly towards the door, balancing the knife in one hand. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the roll of my turtle neck and pulled it up, letting it cover the bottom half of my face. I flicked my eyes up, letting him know I was ready. He turned the knob, and I walked inside.
The man was strapped to a chair, his hair plastered to his face with sweat. Without hesitation, I crossed the room, laying the cool steel of the blunt part of my blade against his cheek. A bead of sweat rolled off his face and down the pristine edge of the blade, the shine making it seem sharper than it already was. He looked at me. I looked at him. He looked scared. I assumed I looked determined. I pressed the blunt part deeper into his cheek.
And very slowly, I began to turn the blade.
My Uncle heard the echo of his screams. I watched them hit against the walls of the dark room until they stopped, until everything stopped. I let the dagger clatter to the floor. I meant to go into the bathroom, to wash myself up, but somehow I ended up back in my room, staring at the pile of synthetic blonde hair laying in the middle of my floor. I gently bent down, beginning to pick up strand after strand until they began to stain red. I glanced past the strands of hair to the carpet below, littered with my red fingerprints. Then my eyes fell over to the discarded Barbie, and the knife that stood beside her, and I began to cry. I was playing hairdresser.
I didn't mean to cut off her head.
My eyes forced themselves open, wanting to close as they felt the pain of my rapidly rising lungs against my ribcage. During my sleep, the pain had caught up with me, the overall area it vibrated through covered in a throbbing ache. I let out a slow breath, trying to calm my shaky lungs. It wasn't real. I wasn't there.
But the thing was, it was real. I was there. It might not be now, I might try to ignore it when I'm awake, but when I'm asleep I remember. Remember all the things I had done. That's why I didn't sleep. My insomnia wasn't a disease. It was a choice.
I chose to forget that little girl who cried herself to sleep every night, running her fingers across each knick she carved into her wooden bedpost. I forgot the girl who screamed and fought as they strapped her down to a table and messed with her brain, trying to give her an ability called the Sixth sense which had never appeared, nearly killing her in the process. I forgot the little girl who slept under the covers with a tear-soaked doll, hiding from the monsters that had been forced upon her through power she didn't want.
But, I did remember some things.
I remembered the girl who looked a man in the eyes without fear, who told him no when he pointed towards that cell door. I remember the look of fear on his face as she pinned him up against the wall, using the powers far beyond her control at the time. I remembered how free she felt as she fried his mind, leaving his body to crumple against the wall.
I remember the guilt, because she had just done what she had refused to do. Add another knick to her bedpost.
How many lives do you have to save before you make up for all the ones you've taken?
My eyes, which had been focusing in and out as I thought, finally came into full view, reminding me where I was. Trapped in a cage in the Underworld. It made sense that I had seen some ghosts. I grabbed hold of the wall and pulled my shaking body up against the wall. I was done feeling sorry for myself. I had to get out. I pushed myself off the wall and began to lumber heavily towards the back of the chamber, looking down into the dark hole that acted as a restriction. A warm feeling spread down my side and I pressed my hand into my shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. I stood awkwardly in front of the dark cave, not knowing what I would find. Whatever way this took me, I only had two options. Dead or alive. I was pinning for alive.
I had barely taken one step forward into the dark before my foot slipped from under me and I fell into the deep hole, my body hitting hard against either side of the narrow falling path. I bit back the pain as my fall was abruptly cut off by my decent into another chamber. I hit the floor hard, so hard that I heard a crack and I had to push myself up quickly so I could cough up blood into my hand. I let out an angry sigh as I brushed my hand off against the stone wall. I had completely broken my rib and a piece had flown off and punctured my lung.
Yeah, that alive thing was definitely working out for me so far.
I took a deep breath, feeling how far out my lungs fluctuated. I didn't feel much liquid in my chest, which meant it was a small puncture since I wasn't yet drowning in my own blood. But I'm guessing I wasn't going to last forever. "Yeah." I spoke aloud to the back wall of the empty chamber. "Let's give the assassin girl the ability to live forever! Not be invincible, which would have actually been useful!" I laughed a bit at my own stupid joke, having to stop halfway through to cough up more spitty blood. I leaned my hand against the pillar, trying to stop the spinning of my head, which hadn't really stopped yet. I rubbed my hand across my forehead.
"Oh, Aryan, you've done it this time!" I said, giggling a bit in my own slight pain induced insanity and misfortune. "Now I understand, why they said to stay away from boys!" I squeezed my eyes shut and turned my head towards the dark ceiling. "I'm done!" I shouted to the air. "If you're gonna kill me just do it already! I'm tired of waiting my turn, just do it!"
"Do not wish that upon yourself." My eyes shot open and I wheeled around at the sound of the voice in my head, making the room spin, but that wasn't what I was focused on. I was focused on the giant freaking dragon that had started uncurling its silver body from around the pedestal in the middle of the room I hadn't noticed. I squinted slightly, trying to ward the figment of my imagination away, but it wouldn't leave. The dragon took a delicate and tentative step towards me. "You have already changed enough." Its broad and feminine voice filled my head, but not my ears. I tightened my eyes until its large shape blurred into the dark walls. I cocked my head slightly.
"Holy shit." I said, taking a labored and sloppy step towards the creature. I stumbled towards it, tripping slightly as I neared it, using its cool scales to support my falling weight. I laughed, rubbing my hands up and down its snout where I had fallen. "Damn, when they said you chase the magic dragon, they weren't kidding." I smiled slightly through my laugh. "So I guess you're my only company during my slow trip to Hell, right?" The dragon shook its head slightly, rolling its large eyes.
"Ah. Hold on." The dragon shook of my hand and gently laid the tip of its snout against my forehead. "This will only take a second." A rush of warmth started traveling its way down my body, making the pain in body fade. My senses began to focus, the blurred edges beginning to recede. My eyes flitted around, seeing the details in the room I hadn't seen before. The webs of cracks in the dark walls. The layers of royal purple crystals around the edges. The beautiful jewel embedded pedestal in the middle of the room. As I was taking in the details, a large figure slipped into my peripheral vision and I turned my head slightly. I let out a loud gasp, stumbling backwards. I stared at the dragon, trying to keep my lungs from rising and falling and risking my death.
"Why the hell are you still here?" I asked the beast, trying to hide the surprise that it was real and the fear that it might eat me. The dragon rolled its eyes again.
"Please, Aryan, I'm not going to eat you. We just need to talk." I took a small step towards a large rock, taking a seat on the edge of the rock. I cocked my head.
"How do you know my name? And how are we even having this talk?" The dragon laid down with a large grunt, still staring me in the eyes.
"The talking thing?" The dragon shrugged its shoulders. "I'm tapping into the mental waves that you use to read and see into minds." I opened my mouth, wanting to inquire how it had managed to do just that, but it cut me off. "As for you, I know everything about you. I know everything that will be needed to be known about you." The dragon looked down towards the floor, its purple irises glowing against its silver scales. "Or, at least I once knew." I narrowed my eyes.
"What do you mean you once knew?" I asked gently, leaning forward on my thighs. The dragon looked up at me.
"Because you shouldn't be here, Aryan Brookestone." Its words got quieter inside my head. "I am Paix, The Guardian of the Sais of Energy. I am the Protector of Harmony and Balance. I am the Watcher of The Scrolls Destiny and Fate." Paix stopped, eyes still on me. "Two months ago, on April 29th, at exactly 4:52 in the morning in American time, the scrolls started to fade and change." I felt my eyes go wide at her words, trying hard not to let my breathing get heavy again.
"What did I change, Paix?" I asked gently. She looked at me, eyes still shining.
"My dear, the more accurate question, is what didn't you change."