Recovering Our Own

Chapter One: It is Beginning*

"Careful, you don't want to hurt anyone yet," joked Owen. He was the weapons and battle teacher, and Kallan was currently going through her routine daily training. He was also, coincidentally, her Guardian. Due to the unique nature of how Primum are born, no one really has "parents". Instead the Duxian at the time picks someone who they think would be a suitable caretaker for them until they are of age.

"Sorry," Kallan replied, wincing nervously.

"Oh, nothing to be sorry about," he assured her. "Now, let me see you shoot that again."

Kallan raised the gun, aimed, and fired at the target. As the bullet passed through the cardboard cutout, she felt her stomach clench and fought back the urge to vomit.

"Awesome! Right at the head, that's it!" Owen cheered. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," said Kallan hurriedly. What's wrong with me? She thought. How I going to help take down an entire civilization if I feel queasy from shooting a cardboard person?

"It's obviously not nothing," he insisted. "You look sick, are you really sure you're okay?"

"It's just that...oh, never mind," Kallan said with a sigh. "Don't worry about me. Let's just keep going with target practice."

Just then, they were interrupted by a voice known by the entire Primum population. "Hey Owen, do you have a minute?"

In walked Raidah. She was 6 feet 3 inches of power and muscle, with dark skin and a waterfall of long dark brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Her tattoos, blue bands around her left arm and a stylized water droplet on her cheek, signified her water talent. The standard crisscrossing pattern up her right arm was edged with glittering silver instead of the usual solid black, showing her status as The Duxian, or leader. Primum tattoos are really a beautiful thing. They are born with them, and the left arm and cheek tattoos vary depending on their Ability. Every Primum has the same pattern on the right arm, which looks similar to the tied ribbons of a ballet shoe. Edging color of this pattern signifies status, and is added with ink as needed throughout life.

"Um, yes, all right," stammered Owen. He ran a hand nervously through his shaggy blonde hair. It wasn't a surprise that he was a bit scared, most of Raidah's talks brought bad news, and Owen tended to get more nervous than necessary at the thought he might be in trouble.

"Great. Just come with me then, it'll only take a moment."

"Uh, um, right," he stuttered. "Keep practicing Kallan, I'll be back in a soon."

Kallan watched them walk out of the training room. What could this be about? She hoped it didn't have anything to do with her, although things usually did. Hopefully nothing that was too big of a deal, especially not any more training. Her training schedule had increased in hours several times in the past year, and she currently was busy from 6:00 am to 8:00 pm, with a break for lunch at 12:30. She longed for the days of being 10 years old and only doing simple element training for two hours a day, or being only five and not having to go to training at all.

While she waited, Kallan busied herself with the task of utterly demolishing the cardboard cutout target. Bam! One through the right lung. Another bam. Straight into the heart. She buried squeamish feelings and consoled her conscience with thoughts of lessons from Human History class. The killing of Primum as punishment for their so-called "witchcraft" was one simple example that made her feel a lot better about what she was training to do: annihilate the human population.

A few minutes later, Owen walked back in, head cast downward.

"Well? What was that about?" Kallan asked impatiently.

Owen glanced up at her, looking grim.

"Please don't tell me she wants to increase my training schedule again."

"No, it's not that," Owen replied, green eyes cast downwards to avoid looking at her face. He ran his hand over his fire Ability arm tattoo, which was a gorgeous swirling pattern of different reds and oranges.

"Then what is it?" Kallan screeched.

"She thinks you're as ready as you can be."

"So, what's bad about that? Does that mean I don't have to do all this training every day?" She asked, excited.

"No," said Owen. "She thinks it's time."

"Time for what?" Kallan asked. Then, she realized something. Well, it wasn't really much of a realization since it was what she had been training her entire life for. It was the sole purpose of her birth. Okay, maybe that was a little extreme, she would have been born anyway. But it was what she was raised for and the reason why she had to spend so much time training.

"You mean, she wants to start now?" Kallan said, feeling both frightened and happy at the same time.

"Yes. The Recovery is beginning."

A/N Edited chapter one! 

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