Alratha – Amber Dust, Daggers Rust 4

“What happened?” Catherine demands to know as she looks at Alratha. The assassin has just returned to the base and asked somebody if those strangle marks looked good on her. Somebody turned out to be Catherine, who immediately insisted to have a look at that. “Mhm, I killed Rethal.” “You killed her?” “Yep, although nobody will find her corpse.” Catherine sighs, “At least that, did anybody see you?” Alratha ponders for a moment, “Maybe they saw something, there was a giant explosion after all, but only men so who cares, they don’t work together with the justice department anyway.”

Catherine is speechless as Alratha stands up, “If you will excuse I have something to take care off.” She says in sunny mood and leaves Uklag’s bedroom. She walks through the halls back to her own room and takes up the mirror. “Might as well get through with it now.” She muses and looks into her eyes.

“…She is only a child, Rethal.” The Archprophetess says to her lover. “All my other daughters made for excellent members of the assassins, we might as well bring her in earlier.” Alratha looks around. She stands in the chamber in Archprophetess again, on the balcony to be exacty, looking over the extensive garden. She turns to look at the two arguing woman. Her mother, Rethal, calmly looks at the Archprophetess who is slightly red in the face. She looks at them through the many small windows of the balcony door, her own reflection stares back at her. Blue eyes stare back at her.

“You okay, sister?” Alratha looks up, her three older sibling stand on the balcony with her. The youngest of them is still ten years older than her. “She is ten, Rethal” The Archprophetess specifies. “They are supposed to be at least 16, the reason why was lost but I don’t want to take a risk.” “Just a bunch of old rules, if we take her in now she might be able to infiltrate even that cursed Zarima and destroy it from within.” That seems to shut up the Archprophetess and she looks at Alratha. “You really think she is worthy?” she asks. “Absolutely.” Rethal says.

“You are lucky.” Her oldest sister whispers, “Getting the Amber Dust is a great honour, you will be the youngest to ever receive it.” Alratha gives her a warm, childish smile. “I know.”

The Archprophetess steps on the balcony and takes Alratha with her. They enter another chamber. She disrobes and Alratha, unsure what to do, just watches as she gets a tablet with needles. “This isn’t going to hurt.” She promises and grabs one of them. The needle is made of Amber, “Relax.” The Archprophetess says, “Take a deep breath in.” Alratha does, something in the air is numbing her mind. Unable to move she feels the needle pierce her skin.

The needle pierces deeper and then. Tormenting pain. Madness. She smiles as she screams. “What?” The Archprophetess looks shocked, “This isn’t supposed to…” Silence. Darkness envelopes her.

The memories jump six years. Alratha hangs from the ceiling and watches her siblings. She smiles, her mouth curves in a cruel way. She is spying on her mother. “Well, I was afraid that the ritual broke her back in the day.” She hears Rethal approaching. “But she turned out just fine, albeit a bit insane.”

She is talking to her eldest sister. “I wonder.” She says, “Sometimes I think she is doing more harm than good. I think that we should kill her before she kills us.” Alrathas heart clenches. “Mhm, maybe.” Her mother agrees. Alratha feels, for the first time ever, genuine hatred.

The next day she killed all three of her siblings. “She was right.” Her mother whispers when she arrives at the scene. “You are a monster.” “Am I, mother?” Alratha asks with a maniacal smile. “Or am I what you made me?”

They fought, she lost, she escaped. She fled to Estara, she sold herself as an assassin. She was the best at her job. A single little escapade landed her in prison. Uklag arrived a few days later.

She comes back into reality as Catherine knocks at her door. “I still have more questions.” She says and enters. Alratha puts down the mirror, it stands on a little leg on the back that had been unused until now. “What is it?” “Who was that women anyway? What did she do to make you of all people this angry?”

Alratha laughs loudly, tears dwelling up in her eyes; Catherine has no choice but to wait until she calms down. When she does she gives a very unsatisfying answer. “Sorry, Cathi, but nobody ever heard the secrets of my past.” She pushes the protesting witch out of her room and locks the door behind her. “And no one ever will.” She says at her reflection.