The Keepers of Azera ( Book 1 of the Keepers Trilogy)

Chapter 2

Picture above is how I imagine the capitol.

Another Keeper in my group, Masan, stares at the sky with disgust. "What happened?" 

"War," James replies in a hollow voice. "There was a war, after Simon disappeared, and only now it's safe..."

"War? Against who?" a girl from the group above us asks. 

I look towards Matilda, who bites her lip. "We don't....we don't know," she says.

"Why are we here?" an older boy asks. "I thought we'd be able to see our families."

"They wanted you to see this, but the fighting only ceased now," James explains. I can tell by the dirty look Matilda shoots him that he wasn't suppose to tell us that. James ignores the look and continues, "All we were told was to keep the fighting quiet until necessary, but to train you."

"So what now?" I ask. "Will we continue training?"

"Yes," Matilda says. "Under law, Keepers are to train for twenty years."

"Do we get to see our families?" I ask. 

Matilda hesitates. "No. Not...not yet." 

I open my mouth to ask why, but James puts a hand on my shoulder. "Let's go back inside," he whispers in my ear.

I nod and allow him to lead me into the entrance. Eventually the nineteen other Keepers follow suit.

Once we're back in our quarters, I ask him quietly, "This had to do with Simon, didn't it?"

He looks in the other corner. "I don't know, Callie. I don't." 

"Do you?" 

He shakes his head. "I know as much as you do, because the armies are unsure themselves. But don't bother with flashbacks, Callie, because they've blocked it."

"I know," I say bitterly. "I tried. They think it's because of Simon, I bet. Right?"

James sits down on my bed. "It's just a guess. Callie, you don't know what's going on."

"Because it's blocked."

"Callie...." James sighs.

"How am I suppose to learn when you keep blocking things?" I ask despairingly.

"Because it has nothing to do with you," James says. "We are required to block anything that may involve the incident."

"Then request that I be allowed to see who the enemy is. We don't know if has to do with Simon," I argue, "so it shouldn't be block at all."

James sighs again. "I'll put in a request, but I can't make any promises," he says.

"Thank you," I say. "Want to get back to that game?"

He coughs. "Sure, once I get the dust out of my lungs." 

***

It's midnight, and I can't sleep. I try to replay soothing memories in my head, and it almost works. I've sang the lullaby to myself several times, which usually works as well, but my mind keeps turning back to the smoldering capitol. I punch my pillow and roll over. I stare at the wall, as if it will suddenly put me to sleep.

I think about my parents. My mum, with her blonde hair and fair skin. My dad, who looks just like any other Azeran. He's also a Keeper, with the power of telekinesis. I try to recall them after the war started, but I can't find out what happened. This worries me even more. Are they okay? Will I see them again? It's too much to think about, and I wish more than ever I could fall into a deep sleep.

I stare up at the ceiling, now trying to clear my mind. I try using flashbacks again, this time of sleep. It's starting to work. I begin to feel sleepy, my mind drifting off. I snuggle into the blanket, feeling warm and comfortable....

I'm in some sort of metal hallway, but I can't make out details. I don't know where it leads, because the dream is skipping over parts. The fear is almost palpable in the air. I'm scared and I'm sad. But I feel determination, to avenge whatever is causing this fear, this pain.

I think I'm being watched, but I can't tell. Everything is blurry and it's hard to make out what's going on. I don't think I'm dreaming anymore, but this isn't real life either. Not yet, anyways.

I'm covered in blood and bruises. The white gown that I wear is torn in some parts. I don't know if that's a piece of scrap metal or a knife that I'm holding, but it's dripping blood. I want out. I want to wake up, but I can't. Let me wake up. I want to wake up. I don't want to know what happens next. I'll find out eventually. But not now.

I stop in front of a door (please let me wake up). Feelings wash over me, but I can't pick them apart. Is that fear? Anger? The longer I dream, the less clear it gets. Maybe that means I'll wake up soon.

Something's behind me. I hear it (oh Gods I don't want to know what's going to happen next). I don't know how far away it is (I don't understand why is it so hard to wake up?) because nothing's clear to me. And I know that it won't happen for a while. But it will.

And I won't be prepared.