Amelia's Prologue: A Sparrows Intuition
She should have known. She should have known that somebody would be waiting for her, that somebody knew she was coming to the third floor late one October night. She should have known, but she didn't. She didn't have the time.
Amelia Grey stepped into the silver elevator, blissfully unaware of the danger she was to face upon reaching her third-floor destination. Her guardian, a rather pretty sparrow, sat on her shoulder. She was in tune with his feelings. Today, he was nervous. Well, Amelia smirked to herself, he should be nervous, we're going to the third floor. Amelia was none other than the rebel child, one in her own, and one who was desperate to find the truth for her people. Rumours spread quickly around the town. Thats why she had to be quick. In and out. She took a deep breath as the elevator began to ascend to its destination.
"Hush, Harlen," she cooed to the bird as he made a dimmed alarm call. "It'll all be fine, we've got each others backs," the bird cocked its head to the side like a dog, and Amelia laughed silently, but he hushed nevertheless and stole a strand of Amelia's red hair to keep himself occupied.
Yet still, the sparrows mood should have told her something. Something she should have seen as a sign that her journey would be dangerous. That it could be possibly a life-ending sort of experience.
The doors of the silver elevator flew open with such a force that Amelia Grey quickly pressed herself to the other side and took a single deep breath. She was ready, she could do this. The sparrow dropped the lock of hair he'd been biting, and stood up proudly. They were going to face this together.
Many before them had come alone because they'd been suspected of more. Many rebels like Amelia Grey had lost their guardians to this fate, torn from one another as a punishment. When they'd given Amelia a place in their group, well rather blackmailed her into joining, they'd told her and the sparrow that begin separated was something painful, something nobody would want to go throughout with. Amelia took a second deep breath and stepped from the elevator.
This was her destiny. She couldn't fight it, and she couldn't get away from it. She was Amelia Grey. She was the rumoured rebel child who would find the truth for her people, for herself, and for the guardians.
"Miss Grey?" Came the voice from down the hallway. Amelia and the sparrow froze in place. "Amelia Grey, I know you're there, you can't hide from us."
The smart thing to do for the pair would have been to run. To turn around and re-enter the elevator, and reach the ground floor hopefully without anybody noticing them. But, the smart thing and what Amelia Grey thought to be right where two completely different things.
"I'm not leaving until I get some answers," she hissed between clenched teeth, "and you know what answers I desire."
The voice from down the hallway reappeared, but this time, a face was attached to it. An old face, weary, worry lines etched onto her skin. She held her hands tightly to her chest. One eye was closed, the other as grey as her skin and her hair.
Amelia and her guardian didn't trust her at all. The old saying goes never judge a book by it's cover. They were doing much worse than that.
The old women opened her mouth again. "I can't just give you the answers child." She smirked, "why would I do that? That would take away the point of my blackmailing, and then I would have nothing."
"But I would have answers," Amelia retorted. The sparrow made a shrill chirp of agreement.
"Child," she smirked. "My final answer is still no, why would I give away priceless information like that? They would kill me if they found out I told the likes of you." She took a breath before continuing. Amelia, though, did not hear what she said after her pause, nor did she notice the men that suddenly appeared behind her.
"You see? I told you they'd kill me if I told you anything," the older woman sighed, motioning behind her. Amelia narrowed her eyes in the darkness and made out three dark figures, all the same hight and all the same build. One pulled what appeared to be sunglasses back from his face.
Sunglasses? Amelia thought innocently. The men smirked at her.
"Miss Grey? You're comrades unfortunately seem to tattle when threatened," the one with the sunglasses said cruelly, tilting his head to the side, much like Amelia's guardian had done when they'd begun their assent in the elevator.
"I'm not surprised," she hissed. Amelia thought back to the people of the Rebel Child. She scowled at the thought of them. Those cowards. Most had their own guardians taken away and nothing was more heart breaking or painful then that, and yet they'd given up her mission for a threat? They were meant to be her teammates, her protectors. It was all a lie.
"You should be surprised at the one who tattled," one of the others spat.
But, before he could say another word, a sticky, sweet, metallic taste filled her throat, and the world around her went black.
As Amelia Grey, the rebel child killed by her own teammates, fell to the cold hard floor, she had no time to scream.
She was defeated, once.
But, dear readers, her legend lives on.
In the corridor of the left wing of the second floor, Quinn's eyes opened widely. How had she gotten here? Why had she been asleep without reason?
Then, it came to her as Aria, her white wolf-like guardian looked up to catch her gaze, she remembered everything.
The metallic taste still haunted her memories, the memories of a life past.
She looked down to her hand and found a sentence scribbled on it in messy hand writing. It was certainly not her own, Quinn had better penmanship.
Amelia Rose Grey. Remember my mission.
Quinn gasped as the door flew open beside her.
"Come in, darling," sweetly said Gabriella Grey. Amelia Grey's mother had called for her.
Quinn looked up, and daringly walked inside.