“Ow!” Ellyne shrieked. “You didn’t have to throw me into the chair!”
“You shouldn’t have resisted,” the Kithrak responded, focusing all four of his eyes on her.
“I wasn’t resisting,” she insisted, “I was merely referencing your mom and how much of a—”
“Hold her.” He motioned for the guards to restrain her, waving his four arms in the air. The guards obliged, holding Ellyne’s arms down and keeping her confined to the hard, uncomfortable chair.
“So, what’s on the agenda today, fellas? Are we having a nice lunch together?”
“You,” the Kithrak began, inspecting a needle, “are going to sit quietly while I draw some blood. Can you do that for me, Ellyne?”
Ellyne winced. She had that same reaction every time her name was uttered. They always said it with disdain on their lips. And, though she didn’t remember much, there was something else about the way they said it—as if they weren’t pronouncing it right.
It was disconcerting—the inability to remember even one’s own name, but she was pretty sure this Kithrak stooge was saying it wrong.
The first time any of them called her that—Ell-een—she hadn’t recognized the name. For all she knew, they made it up and arbitrarily called her that. However, as time wore on, she not only grew accustomed to it, but felt its familiarity. But there was still something amiss.
“You didn’t get enough blood the last time?” she quipped. “I’m afraid I’ll need to see your medical license before we go any further. I only have so much to go around.”
“I would laugh and say you’re charming, but I don’t ordinarily enjoy lying, even for humorous purposes.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Ellyne scoffed, “because you tell me the truth so often.” She squirmed a bit, pretending to attempt an escape. What she was really doing, however, was trying to get a look around the room for this … tyrome thing. She wasn’t keen on listening to voices in her head, but she also had nothing better to do, having been dragged into this same room countless times.
At first, she saw no glowing, pulsing stone device but during her phony resistance, she finally caught a glimpse of something that fit the description, sitting on a display stand of sorts—as if it were an heirloom or a piece of art. It was on a counter across the room, behind the doctor or whatever this four-eyed goon was.
The two guards managed to restrain Ellyne to the point where she couldn’t squirm anymore, not that she didn’t continue trying.
“Have you two been working out?” she laughed. “Last time, it took four of you. I’m impressed. Been doing some arm curls?”
The guards’ faces showed no sign of any emotion but irritation which, as it so often did, made Ellyne smile. At least they’d removed their helmets when they entered the room. Not only could she read their facial expressions, but she could also punch one or two if it came to that.
“So, tell me,” she said as the Kithrak with the needle approached, “why do you always need my blood? Are you vampires that are too shy to bite people? So, you take blood with a needle and make some sort of weird drink with it? I bet that’s it, isn’t it?”
“You think you’re charming,” the Kithrak responded as he plunged the needle into her arm. She wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be painful or if he went out of his way to make it so. “But you’re really just an obstacle.”
“First of all,” she said, wincing as she watched the first ampoule slowly fill, “I know I’m charming. And second, I’m always happy to be a thorn in your ass. I’ve been called worse than ‘obstacle’—at least, I assume I have.”
The Kithrak returned a wry smile as he switched to an empty ampoule. “This would be so much easier if I could just use magic to do it,” he muttered, whispering to himself. Ellyne supposed he wasn’t aware she heard him, but she paid attention far more than any of them thought and, more importantly, their overconfidence and irritation with her made them sloppy.
“You could’ve at least warmed up the chair for me,” she continued, trying to hold their attention on her while she scrutinized the glowing rock behind on the counter. It pulsed with light and shifted colors.
After two more ampoules were full, the Kithrak withdrew the needle and threw a piece of gauze at Ellyne. She promptly grabbed it and put pressure on her arm while the Kithrak disposed of the syringe and put away some other items. They were both well-accustomed to the routine.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked, his back to her as he tidied his work area.
“Do I get a piece of candy now as a reward?”
The guards, obviously also accustomed to the routine and believing it was over and done, released her with the assumption she would comply as they prepared to lead her back to her cell.
They assumed wrong.
Ellyne leapt from the chair and lunged for the tyrome on the counter, catching the guards by surprise. They stumbled forward, grabbing for her as she scrambled to stay ahead of them long enough to touch it. The doctor staggered backward, gasping and falling against the wall, apparently trying to avoid the fray.
One of the guards got a hand on her, grabbing her right arm and trying to pull her back. The other guard grabbed her left arm, trying desperately to restrain her. “We will have to punish you, Ellyne!” one of them grunted, obviously having difficulty holding her as she wriggled and flailed.
“This had damn well better be worth it,” she growled, straining to touch the glowing object.
She somehow slipped her right arm free and elbowed the guard in the face, knocking him back past the chair and into the wall behind them. She then shifted her weight and stepped in front of the other guard, tossing him over her shoulder and onto the floor.
“You can’t escape, Ellyne!” the doctor shouted.
“I don’t intend to escape,” she replied as she ran forward and touched the stone with the tip of her finger. “I just want to touch the pretty rock.”
She suddenly found herself standing amongst the towering skyscrapers once again, as she gazed up at the night sky.
“Where am I?” she asked, gazing around the quiet city. “Is this all a dream again?” She shivered and wrapped her arms around her as a crisp breeze flitted by.
Disappointed, she sighed, feeling hopelessness creep in. She wasn’t even interested in exploring the dream this time. Something had changed. The mystic aura of the city appeared muted.
“Of course, it’s a dream, Ellyne,” she muttered, kicking a lamp post. “It’s always a dream. In what feels like a few minutes, you’ll wake up in your cell and be just as depressed as you always are when you realize you’re still a prisoner. Was that whole blood draw thing even real?”
Ellyne inspected her arm, instinctively searching for the needle marks she knew wouldn’t be there. She would do the same when she woke up, hoping to determine what was real and what was merely a dream.
“It’s not a dream,” a voice called—the same voice she heard whispering to her earlier. “Not this time, anyway.”
Ellyne looked around and spotted a figure standing in the street—a black-haired woman dressed in an obnoxious red dress and boots. She couldn’t have looked more out of place as she slowly approached, her piercing green eyes fixed on Ellyne.
“Well, I mean,” the woman continued, “it kind of is. It’s a sort of hybrid dream thing that’s neither real nor a dream and it’s really cool and you’ll never believe—”
“Wait, who are—”
“Our time is short, Ellyne. I know you want an explanation, but I don’t even have all the answers. I don’t even have time to explain what I do know.”
“Why did you need me to touch that rock thing? I’m going to be super in trouble when I wake up. Not that I care, but the only worthwhile bruises are those I’ve earned.”
“By touching the tyrome, you connected with another tyrome and allowed this to happen.” She motioned around them. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”
“That rock didn’t create this, I did. I’ve been here countless times.”
“Yes, but I haven’t,” the girl replied.
“Great,” Ellyne scoffed, “I’ve let some weird girl with zero fashion sense into my dream. How exactly does that help me?”
“Because,” the woman continued, “Touching that tyrome revealed your location. Now I know where you are, and I’m coming to get you.”
“You? How are you going to break me out of a prison?”
The woman laughed. “You’ll see. You don’t remember, but that’s okay. Your memories will eventually return but, for now, we need to take this one step at a time.”
“I still don’t understand how you alone are going to bust me out of a Kithrak prison,” Ellyne scoffed.
“Because I’m not going to break you out. You are.”
The ground shook and several of the buildings around them swayed. A massive shadow crept across the sky, emerging from the clouds, and coming to a stop above them.
“Shit,” the woman cursed. “They’re onto us. Oh, sorry for swearing but, um, we’re out of time. We’ll meet again, Ellyne—very soon. Until we do, you might want this.”
“Huh,” Ellyne chuckled, “you actually got my name right … I think.”
The stranger held aloft a small dagger. She released the blade, and it floated over to Ellyne who hesitated at first but eventually grabbed it, causing it to vanish.
“Wait!” Ellyne shouted as the woman turned and walked way, headed into the fog beyond. “Who are you? Who am I?”
“Be patient,” the woman’s voice whispered. “I’m on the way.”
The city melted into a kaleidoscope of swirling colors that formed dozens of images—the woman in red, a bald, robed man, white energy reaching into the sky, and a golden gun were just a few of the familiar things invading her mind.
She found herself back in the lab, being pulled away from the tyrome by the guards who’d leapt into action.
“You’re a lot of trouble, Ellyne,” the doctor scolded, waiving a finger in front of her face. “But you always surprise me by just how much trouble you are.”
“Yeah, well,” she spat, “it’s apparently my brand … and the name’s Ell-een-ya.”
“I don’t care what your name is,” the Kithrak sneered.
“Well,” Ellyne laughed, slowly getting up, “you should.”
“And why is that, exactly?”
“Because you’re going to hear it a lot when I get out of here. My name is going to keep you awake at night.”
The Kithrak laughed again as the guard hoisted her to her shaky feet. “Is that so?” He moved in closer, his many eyes wandering, inspecting her. “You think you’re going to escape? You have no concept of where you actually are, Ellyne. You can’t possibly imagine just how difficult such an action would be.”
“Your mom does.”
He emphasized her mispronounced name and laughed some more, then motioned to the guards. She felt something hit the back of her head. Her vision blurred and everything went dark.
The pounding in Ellyne’s head told her all she needed to know when she opened her eyes and gazed up at the all-too-familiar ceiling.
“Ow,” she groaned, squinting her eyes, and running a hand through her blond hair. “I guess his mother is a sensitive subject.” Her fingers eventually found the lump on the back of her head. It was impressive. She would be sure to return the favor when she escaped.
“When …” she muttered, “yes, when.”
That was new. After several failed escape attempts in the past, she had long since accepted she would be captive for a long time—maybe forever. The urge to find a way out was always there, and Ellyne was constantly looking for her opportunity, but such chances were rare and always failed. Each time she tried, the Kithrak doubled down on security and fixed the problem. She hadn’t seen an opportunity in a long time, having apparently spent them all.
Until now. If this woman truly was coming to find her, then that was worthy of renewed hope, but she had to ask herself just what could one person do for her? If Ellyne couldn’t escape, how could one woman break in and then help her escape?
Or, rather, how could one individual break in and then have Ellyne liberate herself. It sounded far-fetched.
And, above all else, was it even real? It felt like a dream but, at the same time, it was different … more tangible, more real. And there was a stark familiarity about it—something more intense than her usual feelings. Sure, she still felt she had been to the city in her dreams, but she also felt she might know the woman who appeared. The woman certainly acted like she knew her, but Ellyne wasn’t sure it was routine for her to hang out with not only a girl, but a girl who made such questionable fashion choices.
More than anything, right now, she wanted her memories back. Whatever the Kithrak did to her, she would make them pay. She would find out why they were keeping her here and make them restore her memories.
Then she would burn this place down.
"And how are you going to do that, Ellyne?" she laughed, trying not to cry through the pounding pain in her head. “Some … girl is going to rescue you and then you’re going to set fire to this place? The two of you versus an entire prison filled with Kithrak?”
Ellyne still barely knew anything about herself, but she did know she could fight. She’d proven that time and again and she’d also paid for it more times than she could recall. Gone were the days when just one or two guards escorted her wherever she went. Now it was basically a small, well-armed army that kept her in check.
“They’re going to need more than an army to stop me,” she grinned. Though her situation still appeared as dire as before, she had both hope and confidence growing within her. If there truly was going to be a prison break, she resolved to be ready. “Yeah, Ellyne, but then what?” she mused.
She sat up and felt something dig into her hip.
“What the hell?” she asked, pulling the dagger from her waistband. “How did—” she gasped, inspecting the blade. “How is this even possible?”
The dagger was simple, but it was unmistakably the weapon the woman showed her in the dream—or whatever it had been. There was no denying the pure fantastic nature of the situation, and Ellyne was having trouble understanding or even just believing.
“Magic,” she whispered. “The Kithrak keep mentioning it as if it’s actually real.”
She ran her fingers over the weapon which appeared to be fashioned from one solid piece of metal. It was cold and smooth and, after she nearly cut her finger accidentally, she discovered it was wickedly sharp. But one tiny dagger wasn’t going to give her much of an advantage against however many Kithrak were in this place.
Her fingers found a bump on the dagger’s small crossguard. Upon closer inspection, she determined it was a button. Several moments passed with her simply staring at the weapon with great curiosity.
“Well,” she mused, “what’s the worst that could happen?”
Holding the dagger at arm’s length and pointing it away from her, she pushed the tiny button. The blade telescoped outward, instantly becoming the length of a sword. The crossguard also expanded, as did the hilt. She heard mechanical noises from inside the dagger as the last pieces locked into place.
As she stared, awe-stricken, she realized this, too, felt slightly familiar—as if she had not only seen this weapon before, but used it to great effect. It felt like an old friend—a friend she recognized, but whose name she didn’t remember.
“Well, Ellyne from the past,” she laughed, “I don’t know what you got yourself into but, I gotta say, I’m really excited to find out.”