AHHH. J'adore mes petits reviewers!!! Thank you guys, for the MASSIVE and unnecessary (but all the same, very much appreciated ;]) ego boost. Ahh. Wow. You guys are so much nicer than the fictionpress people.
I hope this one lives up to everyone's expectations!
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I wish so much I could say that something really dramatic happened on the plane, and that I was forced to parachute out — yes, parachute; I had magically whisked one out of thin air before jumping — and thus land gracefully on the ground, in a poised guardian way, shocking the hell out of bystanders... But life's no fairytale. And actually, I don't wish that. Sure it makes for a heck of a boring story, but let's be honest: I was grateful for the peace and quiet.
I boarded the plane without much hassle, aside from the dirty looks that the airplane staff kept shooting me. I figured I must've smelled bad or something. I hadn't washed in a while.
Anyway, what seemed like an age later, we landed in Russia. I've got to say I was quite grateful; I hated the idea for being boxed up that long. I mean, yeah, sure, they're okay for the shorter trips... but this one went on for hours.
Yakutsk was... cute. Everything was scenic, and just... well. I'm not sure how to describe it. It was colder, sure. That was understandable. But it also had this warm (strangely enough), homely feeling to it. It was the sort of feeling that led my mind astray, and brought a lot of regret welling up, as I desperately tried to push away thoughts of him.
It wasn't snowing at the moment, though, which was the first thing that hit me. I'd always expected Siberia to be snowy... all year round. It really wasn't.
I made my way out of the airport, and walked down the road a bit. And then a bit more. This was dangerous, I realised. This wasn't exactly my home turf. I didn't have any idea when I'd start treading on the Strigoi territory.
Trees lined the road that I walked down, making my path very sure and certain. It somehow gave me this confidence. At least I was walking in a set direction. At least I hadn't been given a hundred turn-off points. This way, there were only two ways to go, and forward seemed a lot more sensible than backward.
A couple of miles down the road, there was a little copse in the trees, to one side, and this revealed a small field that probably had at one point, on warmer days (if there were any), been used as a football field.
Now it was empty. It seemed almost fitting. I liked it. I had nowhere to go. I was moving on a whim, and I didn't want the reality that I was lost to sink in just yet.
Instead I collapsed on the field, quite oblivious to anything around me, for a moment. I pulled out the piece of paper in my pocket, and looked at it. I must have seen it a hundred times over, when I was on the plane. I knew the number written there off by heart. Just looking at it, though. It gave me something. Some hope. It was hard to describe, because I was pretty sure that the officials there were going to be unfair and not let me partake in anything. But somehow, it was hope inducing... I mean, Dimitri's cousin worked there. How bad could it be? Not very. He seemed to have a certain.... he reminded me, just slightly, of Dimitri. His accent roped his words much more heavily. He wasn't so slight of figure, nor as finely crafted. But I could see the one I loved, somewhere in that face.
Regardless of how he looked, though, he was related to Dimitri and I couldn't help but feel that deep down, he had good intentions. That he really did want to help. Either way, though...
My thoughts trailed to an abrupt halt. The light had faded rapidly. Something was watching me. I clambered to my feet, glancing around.
"Hello?" I asked uncertainly. No one replied. "Is anyone there?"
"Rosa, Rosa," came the response. It wasn't Dimitri. The accent was different; he pronounced it all wrong. My panic levels shot up, and I moved into high-alert mode, scanning the area.
Then I saw him. The blond Strigoi. I hissed.
"Now now, Rosa, play nice," he told me. I was suddenly aware of more Strigoi appearing out of nowhere. "After all, you're on our home turf now." There were too many of them... maybe eight. I knew I could barely take on one or two. I was going to die.
Even so, I thought. I can't let myself go down without a fight. I pulled out my silver stake, watching the monsters rip out twisted laughs.
"She thinks she can fight," one of them laughed. He looked catlike, lazy. He moved with a certain twisted grace that screamed Moroi, but everything else about him said Strigoi. The speaker launched at me.
I whipped around, and took a gamble. I reckoned I might be able to stake him, but I wasn't sure. I wrenched the knife upward as he tumbled over, and he yelped. The Strigoi dropped dead in front of me.
The blond one wasn't amused.
"Idiot," he hissed. "Always jumping into things..." He never got to finish. One of the other Strigoi had burst into flames. It shrieked, and then all hell broke loose.
The Moroi fighters appeared, and killed with a sickening efficiency. What shocked me was how they were actually all Moroi... apart from one. One who grabbed me, and hefted me up into his arms before I could protest and say I was fine.
"Rose, you foolish girl," Valik growled. He pelted out of the fight, putting me down by the side.
"You should've known better than to leave her be," came a Moroi voice. A youngish guy, probably only a couple of years older than me, stepped out.
"Can you keep them away?" Valik asked. He seemed to have ignored the Moroi's comment. In response, the Moroi clicked, and the area between Valik and I burst into flame.
"Yep," he said.
"Oh for goodness' sake, Anton. Stop showing off, and just keep the girl safe," he snapped. He turned and ran back towards the fight, which the Strigoi seemed to be faltering in.
"If you ask me," the Moroi, Anton, muttered under his breath. "She's not worth the trouble."
About a dozen snide comments popped up into my mind, but I kept them to myself, instead shooting him an angry glare.
A few minutes later, things had quietened down substantially. I saw the blond Strigoi and a few others make a quick retreat. The Moroi did not pursue. Instead, they turned in the opposite direction.
"That's our cue," Anton said. He grabbed my arm and hauled me away from the field.
"What? Where are we going?" he looked at me like I must've been stupid.
"We're going back to base."
