1 No Talking

The door was open, and I walked in, my hands were behind me in rope. My pants were torn and had grass stains on them. I knew how I got here. I knew who held me but not the why they did. The rooms light when off automatically, I jumped when it did, my feet made no sound as they hit the floor. My open feet hurt. Blisters and rashes. My stomach growled then, and I noticed moving on the other side of the room. A man smaller than me was making something with dough.

"Your awake. Come stand by me." He said. I looked around at the wooden walls and floor. He could have made this house by himself if he wished. Someone with so much power was always in control of those small things.

I stood a distance way but close enough that I could see what he was doing. The only thing in this room was the table that he was working on. The stove was probably in a room behind a hidden door. That's how they worked; I'd been in these enough times over the last little while.

"You'd make a good wife you know."

I didn't make a noise. I didn't breathe if I didn't need to. My steps were only when he told me I had to move. He seemed nicer than the others, but I wouldn't chance it, not now and not ever. He seemed rather annoyed with it and sighed. He kept going.

"You really would, how do you not know what kind of thing you are yet? How have you not seen what you can do?" The question I couldn't answer was spoken, and I gave the same response as I do to every one of them. Silence. He hit the dough harder but didn't look at me or try and hit me.

"Because, I was never told. I'm just kidnapped and hurt. If I was something special shouldn't people treat me better. I'd want to help someone I trust, and that doesn't treat me bad." I answered, I looked at the wall and knew when I spoke that he was looking at me. I could feel him slow down with the dough, he started at it again.

"I have a son, very handsome and very charming. Would you be willing to be his first friend? He needs one that knows what being hurt is like. For figuring out what you are, I'd say you're an unstable hybrid. But that's for you to investigate, not me." I could hear his plea and yet I still didn't fall for it. I shut my mouth and kept it close. He stopped beating the dough and left it there, another person came in. A girl older than me, but not by much and started working on the toppings for what I thought was pizza.

He backed away and back to the place the girl had come from in the dark. She looked at me and smiled. Her eyes lit up a little. Her frame was tiny and yet she had the muscles to carry the pizza into the dark after putting on the toppings. Guess now would be the time to ask names but I bite my tongue. I was never going to speak to her, and I knew it.

My voice came out when no one was around though, and it surprised me.

"Whatever." That's when I saw the boy hiding behind the stack just behind boxes that I thought weren't there. So, it wasn't me and I had jumped from this tiny boy. This couldn't have been the son of that old man. There was no resemblance, and he was hiding. "Why does he have to throw brother under the bus." He noticed me looking at him, I turned my head sideways. I kind of liked the innocence of the kid. "Well he's my friend but I get to call him brother." I swear I gave him a small smile.

"Is your brother here?" I asked him, he looked at me and his mouth was hopped open.

"Your voice is so pretty, how do you sound like your singing everything?"

"I don't know." I answered, I never noticed it.

"My brother is here but he's dealing with the other dude. The one he has fighting lessons with." He shrugged and gave me a wink. "I'll show you, but you have to be quiet." I nodded, silent and followed him into the dark.

My eyes saw the shadow around him, brighter than him, and I followed it. He led me to what was the kitchen, empty of course, and the oven was on. Everything was made of steel and wood, sanded and soft. He dragged me to the hole in the wall behind the door from the room we came from. We just went straight and then made a sharp left. We came out behind a bunch of boxes and crawled into a small corner. I could see both men going at it as hard as they could. There movements were a bit slow and off but all in all they were mainly doing it alright.

"I'm going to leave; he should be finished soon. See you soon. Um."

"Lucidia, and you are?"

"Sparrow." He took off and went back the way we came, as he left, I noticed them bowing and the older and taller one taking off faster than a fox. The boy looked up and he was gone.

"He always leaves before I can ask questions."

I stood on the wall behind him in my ripped clothing. Well maybe he just didn't want to talk, or he didn't want you to see you kick his butt someday. Many reasons to leave early.

"Maybe he just doesn't know how to answer your questions. Most teachers were taught, never to answer questions, or ask them for that matter. It meant that the student couldn't surpass them." I answered with the most logical answer ever. "If it's about the way you fight, I might be able to help."

He turned to look at me, the window was tinted so I was mostly in the dark. Him I could see. His shorts were worn low and baggy. His hair was brown, a dark brown maybe even a black, and his eyes were what got me. Bright blue, with little bits of green and you could see the energy in them. He still wanted to fight someone. His body was way too hot, but I ignored and focused on the sword rack beside him.

Mainly swords lay there. Small and thin, sharp and hard, pointy. I loved them. One of three weapons I could use without thinking about it. They did all the work for you, all you had to do was move them the right way, which wasn't hard for me.

"How'd you get in here? The door was locked, and who are you?" His face was a composed rock now, looking in my direction.

"Are you going to ask me the questions or are you going to ask me the hard ones instead."

"How do I move so that my body is ready to attack from front and back?" He looked around afterwards. I stepped closer to him.

"Easy, mirror what you're doing. Mirror is and your protected no matter what. Like this." I showed him how my body was on both sides, he attacked, and I was angled and could move fast enough to stop and slow his attack down. He sighed and took a deep breath.

"So, your telling me that you, a thin tiny, short and small, underage at that girl knows how to fight better than my teacher does." He looked kind of disappointed, like I'd told him a lie he can't unhear."

"I shouldn't even be talking or be here so since you don't believe me, I'll just go." Sparrow came out of the dark behind me then and hugged me.

"He hasn't killed you; dad was right a girl was a good idea. Guess I was wrong for doubting him." He smiled brighter than the girl did, and I sat on the floor and let him hug me. He sat in my lap and hugged me for a minute after I sat down. My face was in the sunniest part of the room now and the guy looked me over and shook his head.

"Did my father kidnap you and ask you to be my only new and first friend?" He out right asked. "If he did I already have more than one friend and a girl is not needed in the guy's circle. I'll have him send you back home."

"Please stay here, he's lying. He can't even through a sword right its silly and stupid all at the same time, I can and I'm younger the him. Please do you stay, don't go back home."

I froze, hearing the word home. What was a home again? How was it a home? When did it become a home? Who was in the home? Where was a home? A home was something I didn't think I had or would ever have again. After all my mother was killed, my father was gone, and my adoptive parents left. My home was whoever kidnapped me and feed me food.

"I think you should keep me as a maid. I won't burden you, but I can't leave Sparrow alone, he's too likable." I said out right. I scared them both, by not saying that I wanted to go home probably. Guess Sparrow didn't hear the whole story about where I came from and what I was.

"Why don't you want to go home?" He asked me, I felt myself going cold, with something I don't ever remember feeling before.

"She doesn't have one, know if you must stay, you'll be a guest. You must have someone with you everywhere you go, and new clothes and a room will be provided.

My blood ran warm and my cold faded at hearing the old man's voice, he was saying that I was staying as a guest. A guest for the first time in a long time.