Awakening (Born From Shadows #1)

The rest of the dance went on uneventful for Tatianna. She grew more bored with each passing minute and sleep started to knock on the doors of her mind.

“You’re tired,” Freya commented as she gave into to the desideratum to yawn.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

“Yeah, ok. Come one I will show you to our guest room. You can get some rest then,” Freya offered.

“No, I should go back…” she couldn’t get herself to say it. That she belongs on the street. It was her home, not this mansion.

“Don’t even think about it. My mother raised me to help anyone in need,” Freya pushed.

“Your mother is kind, but your father does not welcome me here,” she told Freya.

“He is just an old angry man, he is stubborn but harmless, pay him no heed.”

Tatianna still did not feel comfortable sleeping in a place filled with people she didn’t know well. “I’m sorry, I cannot,” she declined.

“You worry too much, don’t worry there is a lock on your door. No one will be able to go in unless you let them.” Freya tried to comfort her mind; except she knew how facile it was to pick a lock after completing the practice on numerous occasions.

“Why do you want me to stay so badly?” She inquired, trying to figure out this girl’s ulterior motives. First, she was invited to eat, then to this dance and now to sleep? It didn’t sit right with Tatianna.

“I already told you, yet you are not believing it. I want to help.” Freya looked at her and still, she could find no allusions towards the fact she is being mendacious. She felt the knife on her inner thigh…one night. Just one. Anything that happened, anyone who attacked her or harmed her, would be gifted with the presence of a blade to the heart.

With lassitude written over her face, she acceded, “show me the way to the room.”

“Really?” Freya asked in jubilance.

“Yes,” she said before she had time to rethink her decision.

“Ok, follow me.” Freya led her out of the large dance room and through a series of corridors, going up a few stairs until they finally reached a door at the end of a hallway.

“There is a bathroom in there, I will send up some of my clothes you can wash then get some sleep,” Freya suggested.

“Do you have my things from before?” she asked. She left her blanket with her clothes and despite the many tears in it, she could not bear the thought of sleeping without it.

“Um yes…I believe the maids washed them with your cloak,” Freya said, “would you like me to retrieve them for you?”

“Yes,” she replied. She was too tired to be polite so she sounded like a demanding child.

“Ok, I will get them. You go in there are sort yourself out,” Freya did not wait for a reply when she dashed back down the maze of her home.

Tatianna opened the door and was shocked at the size of the room. For a guest room, it was huge. She immediately slipped off her shoes that were creating sores on her feet from rubbing against past healing wounds. She was not used to wearing shoes, let alone those stilts.

A knock emanated me from the door and Tatianna hoisted the bottom of her dress until she was able to reach her knife handle. “It’s me,” a feminine voice called.

Tatianna let her dress fall back down and opened the door for Freya. If Freya wanted to kill her, she would have done it by now, although that doesn’t mean Freya wasn’t orchestrating something else. “That was quick,” Tatianna noted.

“Yeah, the room wasn’t far from here,” Freya pointed and laid the bundle of cloth on the bed. “I also grabbed something for you to wear to sleep.”

There was a moment of awkward silence where neither individual knew what to say or do. “So…good night then,” Freya said and walked out of the room.

Finally having some placidity, Tatianna let out a sigh. This day was nothing like she thought it would be when she woke up. It was definitely a new adventure for her. She unstrapped her knife from her leg and walked over to the door making sure it was locked. At least it offered some warning, she would wake if someone tried to unlock it. Not bothering to change out of her clothes she collapsed onto the bed and wrapped her now clean blue blanket around her. Placing the dagger under the pillow so she could use it at a moment’s notice.

It took her hours to fall asleep on most nights, constantly drifting in and out of consciousness, worried that someone would try to do something to her. Yet here, it took her only seconds to succumb, with cerebrations of a green-eyed Prince. It was the most comfortable she had ever been.

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The man walked silently through the hallways of his house to where the monstrosity laid seeking the comfort of his abode. A home that had passed through generations of his family throughout the many years that it had stood on this land, proud and tall. This home was not one to foster the filth of the streets, he thought. It was no orphanage for the less auspicious.

“I must clean the city,” he mumbled to himself over and over to justify what he was planning to do. The crime he would commit. He grabbed onto the stick he held in his hand more tightly for reassurance. There was no other way, he was doing what he must for the greater good.

He used the rising sunlight that was shining through the glass windows as a guide through the large home. He came to a halt when he reached his destination. A door that hid away the sleeping muck from his line of sight.

A wrinkled hand reached for the silver doorknob, sticking an object into the keyhole to pry it from its lock. Slowly twisting that handle, opening the door so quietly not even a mouse would have aroused. He reached for the match in his waistcoat pocket and set fire to the wooden stick in his hand.

In one swift motion, he threw it into the disgrace of a human’s room. The damage to the house would be significant, but he could rebuild. This way everything it laid on would be cleansed. Gradually the room became alive with the dancing flame. The man grinned at his achievement and watched as the frightened filth’s eyes flickered open.