WARNING:
This story contains references to drug, sex, and violence as well as depictions of such. Please read at your own discretion.
Please Read, Review, Follow! All forms of criticism are welcome.
I could hear the chattering of excitable wielders all about me, discussing tactics that they may deploy, worlds they would visit. Although there were nerves in some of their voices, few if any, were as quiet as I was. Since I'd made this discovery I hadn't been able to speak, at least not anything worth listening to. I spent every day mindlessly following along to orders and every night gawking out my window in a cold sweat. I was terrified, terrified of what was to come, terrified of who I was.
I glanced out the window next me, large brick buildings of varies browns seemingly flying by. I'd never been to Orenda Citadel, I never intended to. It was a modern city supposedly the central hub of innovation behind it's old-fashion architecture, definitely not a place for me. Yet here I was, cowering behind a novel just like back home, but this time my mind wasn't swept away by stories and fairytales, this was real, this was my life class.
That's when I heard the dreaded chime of the train "Approaching Valorsea Bastille, approaching Valorsea Bastille. Please prepare for departure."
The voices rose, I could have sworn I'd even heard a few squeals. From the window I saw Orenda vanish as my cart was engulfed by the darkness of the tunnel. My heart was racing as the tracks of the train slowed, each turn of their wheels taking me closer and closer to the inevitable.
I closed my eyes, nuzzling my nose deeper into my book, silently praying that if this was all a dream I would soon wake from it. I didn't want to be here, I really didn't want to be here. I was never meant for a life like this, I was never meant to be.
"This yours?"
I turned towards the voice of a tall, aero blue-haired boy with eyes to match. He held my rustic old suitcase I'd stuffed with my favourite novels and few clothes with ease. I nodded, blushing and quickly rose, muttering a thank you as I struggled to grab it. He nodded before reaching to grab his own bag and turning to go to one of the sliding doors. I sighed collecting myself and grabbed my mauve messenger back I'd had seated beside me on the train.
Kids around me were gathering their luggage, making their way eagerly to the ivory doors of the train and as usual, I was behind. Quickly, I shoved my book into my bag and to a glance at my reflection in the glass window. My cherry red hair was a mess. Mari had been right, I should have cut it short before coming, but I loved my waist-length locks, it was my marker.
I clenched onto my chest, remembering the best friend I'd left behind but before the tears could form in my eyes, the train chimed again.
"We have reached Valorsea Bastille. Please exit the train for Valorsea Bastille."
The doors slid open but from where I stood behind the seas of elated teenagers, all I could see was a bright light. Slowly but surely the masses began to move out of the train and as I always did, I followed the crowd. Before I reached the doors I took a last sweep of my seat and saw it barren, not a single thing left behind./p
I sighed once more before facing forward at the hell that awaited me.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello reader(s)!
Just wanted to pop-in and say I'm actually way ahead in terms of chapters for this story and was wondering if you'd like to see two weekly updates a week rather than one. Please leave a review or feel free to send me a private message with what you think.
Please Read, Review, Follow! All forms of criticism are welcome.