I knew deep within me that the Mother had made me different for a
reason. So when Safaro came for me, I was not afraid. The truth can
sometimes kill and I knew that I would find a way, even if it cost me my
life.
I called on each of my sisters within the Temples to send me the youngest
of our awakened, all those with talents in water, earth, and anything
related to animals. They were to be stripped of the blue silk gowns that
would identify them as Amasiti and come to Elan alone with only a
trusted male to carry them, who would pose as their father.
As I helped each of them from the carriages where they’d hidden on
their long journeys, I looked into their young, guileless eyes. I had said
nothing to them, yet, somehow, each of them knew. Like me, the Mother
had made them different. They arrived frightened, but determined, with
just enough time to hide them before Safaro slipped past Elan’s defenses
disguised as a prodigal son returned.
When I finally saw him walking towards me again, I knew that almost
no trace of the boy I loved had survived. His face was sunken and pock-
marked from what I guessed was too much of the Hir’s rich food and not
enough of the grains and vegetables that keep the Amasiti strong and
youthful long into our lives. He knew better, but had chosen to trade
what was proven for a soulless power that answered to neither knowledge
nor wisdom.
I knelt before Safaro, as I swore I would never do when we were children,
and accepted his chain, then watched as his pride swelled, eclipsing any
possibility that he would discover my plan. Blind purpose and certain
victory propelled him forward without the slightest concern for why a
woman who had defied him every day of her life would have surrendered
so easily. I bowed my head and followed him, prepared to betray
everything I knew to preserve the hope of what we could become.
Like a slave, he brought me dutifully to his master, who sat outside the
battlefield on a tall, white horambus that was draped in blood red velvet.
The Hir spared only a second to regard me with contempt before sending
me with Safaro to the center of the battle where our right to exist would
98 | NKLC MAGAZINE