A Scar in the Past
20 years earlier: September 1998
“Finally, after 4 years, you’re pregnant!”
“It’s not yours.”
“What… oh - is that what happened to you that day I sent you to the store! If I catch that man I’ll kill him!”
“It gets worse.”
“Oh?”
“He wants to keep it.”
“And who says he’s getting it!”
“He does, he…he’s part of the…. He says Krylmaure sends her greetings ‘from The Family of Keys’, whatever that means. ”
“WHAT!?” he jumped back, as if hit by a truck, “Maurie…no. NOO!”
“Who…who is Krylmaure.”
“This had better be the last time he bothers me, I don’t ever want to hear of him again.”
“Delno, he’s going to take our child! How can you say that! Please tell me.”
“NO! Forget about it. If they want the child, give it to them. I never thought I would have to deal with them again.”
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17 years later: 2015
The girl tightly clutched one end of the long rope as her legs dragged in short bursts across the grassy plain. The other end of the rope was attached to a helicopter, slowly droning forward. The girl blinked, and suddenly she was in a dark corridor. Instead of a rope, she held another persons hands. Struggling to get to her feet as the man dragged her swiftly across the floor, she tried to shake the dream out of her head.
“Awake now, eh?” he said with a chuckle, “You’re a pretty deep sleeper. Well, here we are.” He opened a door in the side of the hall and threw her onto a chair across the room.
10-year-old Vitahlomae sat up quickly; wide awake and scared. “Ahh, Rynziarelle’s third child,” he said, leaning back in his chair across from hers.
“Second, actually.”
He let out a long laugh, “Oh no, I’m pretty sure I got the right one; you’re Vitahlomae correct?”
“Y-yes,” she said, surprised. Who was this man? How did he know her?
It was the man across from her who looked surprised though. “You don’t know,” he said.
“Don’t know what?”
“You’re not the second child, Vitahlomae; you’re the third. You see, your mother gave up her first child.”
“She did not! My mother would never do that!”
“Oh, but she had to. Because I wanted it; that’s right, she gave it to me.”
“W-why!”
“Because it was my child. I gave your mother that child; and that child, is your older sister. Would you like to see her?”
Vitahlomae was taken back by the offer, “I - I have an older sister?”
“Yes, she is 16. Now, come see her.” He stood up and opened the door for Vitahlomae, before leading her further down the hall to the end, where there was a door to a big room. There was a woman in the room, who left at a signal from the man.
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“My name is Maquoldo, that woman you just saw was selected from a group of volunteers to be Tahladareal’s acting mother.” At Vitahlomae’s surprised look he added, “Yes, your older sister’s name is Tahladareal. Have you really never been told?”
The woman came back into the room, followed by an older teenage girl. She was tall and had vibrant purple hair with numerous streaks of orange, yellow and red pulled back in a tight braid; it looked like a rainbow. She wore long, bright-green tights and a striped blue and yellow t-shirt; but Vitahlomae didn’t see any jewelry or tattoos. She carried herself with confidence and superiority, but looked quizzically at Vitahlomae.
“Tahl,” Maquoldo said, “Meet your sister.”
Tahladareal didn’t looked surprised in the least, but took a step toward Vitahlomae and flashed a smile. “Tahladareal,” he continued, “I was just about to give your young sister here her… her Key.”
“Oh? How wonderful; welcome…”
“Vitahlomae,” he supplied, “But she’s not joining, I’m returning her.”
She raised her eyebrows at him, “But father-” she quickly stopped, clapping a hand over her mouth and glancing at Vitahlomae.
“Don’t worry, she knows.”
“Why are you returning her?”
“I decided to try something different.”
“Again, huh?” she said, “Well, go have fun, little sister.” She winked at Vitahlomae and turned to go.
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Back in the first room, Maquoldo took out a small rectangular box and walked over to Vitahlomae. He opened it, revealing two keys, and chose the silver one over the gold one. Taking Vitahlomae’s right arm in an iron grip, and pulling up her sleeve, he pressed the key into her skin, running it down in a straight line. Lifting up, he put it back at the top, and pressed in again. Vitahlomae felt a sharp pain, as if she was being stabbed; she cried out, but the pain only increased as Maquoldo continued pulling the key down along her arm. By the time he lifted it up, she was screaming and her arm was covered in blood. He picked up the golden key and turned it on it’s side, the flat part towards her arm, and traced the line of the wound. It sealed up and the blood disappeared, leaving only a scar. “Nice and straight and plain, just like your sister wanted it. Now, let’s return you to your bed.”
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“Vitahlomae, wake up!” Rynziarelle said, entering her daughter’s bedroom. “What’s wrong, did you have a nightmare?” she asked, concerned at the wet pillow and fearful look in her daughter’s eyes.
“No! No! It wasn’t a dream! Mother, a man took me and he - he gave me a scar! Look!” She cried, pulling up her sleeve.
“But darling, that’s not recent at all, it’s only a scar.”
“But he…. He used magic! A magic key, and turned the cut into a scar!”
“I don’t ever remember you getting that scar on your arm, but there’s no such thing as magic, Tahl.”
“Mom, he said you had another kid, a daughter. He showed her to me. He said he took her from you.”
Rynziarelle sucked in a breath, how did she know that?! “Tahlomae, it was only a dream.”