"Where is the high mother? Where was she when the attack began?" The scream cut above the tumult that had descended on the living quarters.
The place looked like a slaughterhouse. Blood and bodies littered the walls and floor, bodies wrapped in the garb of our young girls. You see, in the Sanctuary we always have our youngest girls wear the same bed clothes so they could be easily identified. Now that distinctive grey was everywhere, some splashed with blood, others with a bloodless face staring with unseeing eyes. These were the girls I had trained to protect, and I had failed them, we had all failed them.
With tears brimming in my eyes I picked my way towards my room. I was holding my emotions in check until I rounded a corner and saw my mother, one of our healers cradling a raven-haired girl in her arms. The girl's name was Cynthia, I had just given her her first lesson combat stances not three weeks ago. Her arm was gone just below the elbow. My mother had gotten there in time, I could see the arm had been healed, new pink skin covered the end and she was trembling so she was alive, at least she had that much.
I rushed to her, wanting to feel my mothers arms around me like when I was a young girl. I needed someone to tell me it would be alright. But my mother couldn't let go of Cynthia so all I could do was sag down next to her and have a good cry, even as I ridiculed myself for my emotional outburst.
"Where's her mother?" I asked after I could talk again. I took the quick shake of my mother's head to drop that subject fast so I continued with something else.
"It's okay now honey, you're safe now, the monsters are gone." I passed my fingers through her long golden hair but all I could feel was her trembling. Looking up at my mother I asked.
"Will she be alright?"
"It's too soon to tell. She's been through so much for only seven years old. That beast," she nodded back towards the stairwell entrance. "Would have killed a lot more if Varden hadn't kill it."
"You saw him kill it, how'd he do it?"
"We didn't see him kill it, we only heard it. He drove it back into the stairwell then we heard a..." She stopped looking down at Cynthia and stopped. "I'll tell you later once we don't have an audience."
"Cynthia, I need to go treat the other injured sisters. There are more people that need my help." I watched my mother try to pry the girls arms from around her neck but she wouldn't budge.
"I need you to take her," she looked at me. "Daphne has three broken ribs and her left leg is being held on by two scraps of skin. You know as well as I do that if I don't get to her soon, she'll lose that leg."
Trying to get Cynthia to move again mom succeeded in getting her loose, so I quickly scooted down beside her so she could place the child in my lap.
She screamed as my arms closed around her. Then the scream turned into a wail when my mom got up and moved out of the room we were in. Her eyes were wild with fright until she was out of her view then she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. The only sound she then made were whimpers and soft cries. So I simply sat back and stroked her hair. Me taking care of a child, even for a short period was absurd. What do I know about taking care of kids?
"That's a nice look for you."
A voice to my left had me turning to see Varden walk from the door leading to the stairwell. He was blood stained and had an ugly looking gash above his right eye but to me, at that time, he looked glorious.
"Very funny, my mom had to leave her with me so she could tend to the other wounded." I scooted back against the wall, my back felt very grateful as I relaxed my cramped muscles.
"So who do we have here?" Varden sat beside me and with the utmost care lifted Cynthia's hair from her face.
The instant one of her eyes opened just a crack, much to our surprise she was scrambling out of my arms and clawing her way into Vardens lap.
"You saved us, you saved us all." Her little voice was full of such thanks that he didn't know what to do. "Where's your mom little one? I got her into the hallway closet after I drove it into the stairwell. Has anyone helped her yet?" The violent shake of her head brought me straight to my feet, all thoughts of my aching back gone.
"The one right next to the stairwell door!" I heard from over my shoulder as I sprinted out of the room into the hall.
I was at the door and had it opened in seconds, Cynthia's mother was flat on her back, her long dress in tatters. After a moment's investigation I figured out why. Both of her arms had tourniquets applied, and a wadded up bunch of the same cloth was stuffed under her neck between it and the floor. I bent lower and could see her chest rising and falling in deep steady breaths.
Jumping up I ran to the door and screamed for a medical team to hurry. Minutes later she was on a gurney, on her way to the emergency triage unit that had been set up. After I saw her on her way, I crept back to where I'd last saw Varden, but there was no sign of him, neither he nor Cynthia were where I'd last seen them. He probably had her down with her mother, it wasn't like Varden would let anything happen to her, he was great with kids.
So despite wanting to report to the high mother I drug myself to my room. My entire body screamed at each step, we healed fast but the process still took a few hours and the way I felt it was going to be longer than that.
Pushing the door open I stepped into the dark room. Without turning on the light I stumbled towards the bed. Even in the dark I could make my way to my bed without any trouble.
"Uuugggg, I should really take a shower," I mumbled.
But the bed was so inviting. It's weird, in battle we never get tired, but when the fighting is over we crash just like regular humans do. It had something to do with our adrenal system. The teachers at our school always told us how our bodies produce adrenaline but right now my brain felt like mush. So even though my clothes, hair and most of my body was covered in a layer of dried blood I climbed into bed, tried to pull the covers over me and stopped. There was someone in the bed with me.
"Shhhhhh, you'll wake her up. You have no idea how hard it was to get her to sleep."
"Varden? Why did you bring her in here?" I asked into the darkness in the direction of his voice.
"I didn't know where else to take her. It's not like I wanted to take her down to the triage unit, she's seen enough." From the center of the bed I heard a small squeak then a hurried scuffle and a tiny hand latched onto my arm and the commotion calmed.
"Besides, I don't know about you, but I'm beat." I felt a tiny prickle on my shoulder that proceeded down my arm. By the time his fingers reached my elbow I was shivering from head to toe. "Besides, we have a little company, so all we get is sleep tonight."
"I really hate you sometimes." I snorted. He'd done that on purpose and I knew it. The only time he ever touched me like that was when I had no outlet for the fire he'd started.
I fell asleep thinking of ways to get back at him for it.
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