Chapter 3 (revised)

Blair Sage was standing in a field, the grass swishing under her feet. She held her dagger in her hand, waiting. Her father had two daggers in his hands. He was training her.

“Hold it up, Blair. Don't let it fall.”

They locked blades in a power struggle, Blair's arms straining with the effort. She suddenly backed away, breathing hard.

“You need to work up your muscle strength.” he said. “Try to attack me this time.”

The hot sun was burning Blair's face, but she jump towards him, her blade flashing. He sidestepped, and put the blade to the back of her neck. He withdrew it quickly.

“Never leave your back undefended, Blair.”

She stood up strait. He bent down, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“That's what they want you to do. But we have to fight it!” he said almost dangerously, staring into her eyes.

“What? What do they want to do me?” she asked silently. She swallowed.

“But how can I? What will happen to Bethel if I fight?”

They both heard Bethel's scream coming from the town.

Blair sat strait up in bed, breathing hard. She wasn't in the field, she was at home, with Bethel. She checked Bethel's bed. She was fast asleep, curled up with the yarn still tangled around her fingers. Light picked through the window as the sun started to rise. Blair placed a hand on her racing heart.

“It was only a dream.” she told herself.

Just a dream. She stood and walked over to the chest again. She quickly picked out some clothes and put them on. Grabbing a brush from the chest, she began brushing her hair. With that done, she braided it then pulled on her boots and jacket. Blair didn't have the heart to wake Bethel. She looked so tired... Taking the cheese, she cut to pieces from it and placed one on the table and the other in her pocket. Taking her belt, she buckled it on. She had to work at the factory that day, another long tiring day of bending over clothe and sewing. Blair couldn't care less for it, but it was the only safe place for her to work. She set off down the street, the cold wind blowing over her shoulders. The factory (which could not really be called a factory since all it was, was twenty four sewing machines and several tables where people folded and put the clothes on) had thirty two workers, most of them were teens. She had several good friends there. Cameron, Eryn and Jake. They all worked hard and kept each other company. Blair looked up and saw the black building rising above all the others. It was the tallest building in the city, being five stories high. Several people were heading that way. Blair caught a glimpse of Eryn through the crowd. She ran up beside her.

“Hey, Eryn”

Eryn tossed her long, chestnut brown back and smiled at her friend.

“Yo, Blair.” she said jokingly. “Had fun on Sunday?”

“Yeah, sure.” Blair muttered.

Eryn gave her a knowing look then changed the subject.

“Rodger and Merrie got married.”

“Isacar told me. I never would have guessed it.”

Eryn looked at her as if she had lost her senses.

“What?”

“You!” Eryn replied, laughing. “It was quite obvious to me.”

“I'm sure it was.” Blair retorted.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Blair didn't say anything. Eryn was the knowing type. You could go as far to say she was a match-maker. It was the way she looked at you with her beautiful brown eyes and they told you she knew what you were thinking. Blair loved spending time with her, it always made her cheer up from her woes.

“How's the orphanage fairing?” Blair asked

Eryn shrugged.

“Same as usual. Boring, cold, stuff like that.”

“Hmm, it sounds like my house.”

Eryn looked at her while speeding up the pace.

“I thought it would be exiting at your house. You having a five year old sister and all.”

Blair bit her lip.

“You would think that, wouldn't you? But she's to hungry to be energetic...”

“I'm sorry... I didn't know it was that bad.”

“Yeah, well its not like its big news. Children die everyday of starvation.”

“You sound like we can't do anything about it.” Eryn said, her tone of voice challenging.

“I didn't say that, Eryn.” Blair said quietly. “I just wish I had hope like yours.”

“You know where my hope comes from, don't you, Blair?”

Blair nodded and smiled. That gave her some comfort. They both walked past a old, broken down church building. Eryn nodded towards it.

“Think there will ever be another preacher preaching in there?”

Blair didn't know.

“You'd have to find someone brave enough to do it.”

Christianity was aloud, but the Marks kept such a close eye on them that all the former preachers were scared off. Both of them were Christian teens, trying to strive to keep strong morals in such a place. They both walked towards the factory, thinking of all the things they couldn't fix.

Adar stood at the entrance to the small city. His hard eyes watching from behind the car's window. He nodded.

“Commander, activate code CM7, but do not go to the orphanage. That would be too abrupt.”

The commander sitting beside him opened the car door and stepped out.

“Yes, sir.” he answered, saluting.

“Go to the Miller's, Blackmen's and Sage's houses first. Kill any adults you find there. Go.”

His commander signaled his men to follow him and they walked into the city, guns drawn. Adar watched them leave and rested his head against the seat. His Master's plan was in action.

Blair bent over the sewing machine, grimacing as her back strained from sitting for hours. She looked up and watched Eryn folding the clothes, but quickly looked back down as a manager walked past. He watched her work for a second then continued walking around the factory. Rennie's grandfather owned the factory, which was why he was so rich, but he also worked for the Marks and Blair was sure that they paid him too. She jumped as the overseer yelled over the humming of sewing machines.

“Halt!” the humming stopped. “Lunch break for an hour and a half. Be back by then or your fired. Dismissed!”

Blair stood slowly up from her chair, nodding to him. He nodded back and smiled. He wasn't a bad sort, but he did have the air of a commander. Walking over to Eryn, Blair nodded to the door.

“Coming?” she asked.

Eryn nodded, placing a shirt on the folding table.

“Yeah, lets find Cameron and Jake and get out of here.”

Blair caught sight of the two guys in question and waved to them. They waved back and made their way through all the people, over to their friends.

“Morning.” Camryn said.

Jake shook his head.

“Its two thirty, man.” he said, looking at his watch.

He was the only one out of all of us that had a watch, though sometimes it was off, Blair was sure. Camryn smiled.

“Well, I am sorry.”

Jake could not stand people giving out wrong information, and Camryn took full use of this. Blair spoke.

“Want to eat at the abandoned church?” it was their usual place to eat.

The three others nodded.

“Sure,” Eryn said. “Wanna stop by the market place before we go over there?”

Blair eyed her.

“No... Why would we?”

Eryn nodded knowingly.

“I think you know.”

All three stared at their friend, thinking the same thing. Blair glared at them frostily.

“No, I don't. Besides, we only have an hour to eat and that would take up too much time.” she crossed her arms.

Jake spoke up.

“An hour and twenty minutes.” he corrected.

“Whatever.”

Blair started walking to the door then looked back at them

“Well are you coming or aren't you?”

They all followed her out the door and down the steps of it. They began walking down the street, Blair in the lead. Eryn caught up with her.

“I didn't see Wryn today, did you?”

Blair looked down at her boots as they walked, not wanting to talk anymore about it.

“No, I didn't. She gone her own way and we can't stop her.”

Eryn pursed her lips.

“I wish we could.”

Blair shrugged.

“She is her own person.”

They walked in silence for a while. Blair began to notice that there were more Marks patrolling stone streets than usual. All four kept their heads down but Blair caught a glimpse of two Marks whispering something then looking at her. She let her hair fall over her face, hiding their eyes. They waiting until they moved on then walked up the church steps, its walls and shutters creaking. As Jake was about to open the door, they all heard a crash coming from inside the building then a voice.

“Blast that bench!”

Blair grinned.

“It's Isacar.”

“I thought he was selling cheese.” Eryn said.

Blair gave her friend a look then opened the door and peered in. She saw Isacar standing in a pool of light coming from the window, slashing the air with a dagger quite like her own. He looked like he was practicing. Silently, she walked up behind him. Not knowing she was there, he swung the dagger over his shoulder, spinning round. In a flash, Blair had her knife up and there blades locked. Isacar seemed confused for a moment and they both said nothing. Finally, Blair broke the silence.

“Who taught you how to fight?”

“My father.” he said. “You?”

They stared into each others eyes.

“My father.” she replied levelly.

Isacar drew his dagger away.

“Curios.”

Blair could see that he was in a concentrating, though his face looked grim.

“Is something wrong?”

He twirled his dagger then looked at the others.

“I'm... Training.”

“And that's bad?”

“Training for what?” Camryn asked.

Blair looked concerned.

“Surely not for becoming a Mark.”

He smiled grimly at her.

“Certainly not. I'm training for an escape.”

Camryn raised a eye brow at him.

“That might be bad.”

Blair put her dagger away.

“Isacar... They're going to kill you.”

“Then let it be!” he almost shouted then regretted it. “I'm sorry. I just...”

He ran his hand threw his long, brown hair then forced a smile at them.

“I suppose you think I'm foolish.”

“Maybe a little.” Eryn said honestly.

Blair looked down at the floor.

“Your gonna get yourself killed, Isacar Blackmen.” she thought angrily. She knew his reasoning: He was going to be drafted anyway, so why not fight? She understood why he thought what he thought, but she still did not have that burning desire to kill the Marks. Maybe she should have, they took her parents after all, but she wasn't brave enough to be mad at them for all the things they had done. Blair was about to speak when she heard something.

“I brought some bread if any of you-” Jake began but was cut off by Blair

“Be quiet!” she hissed. “Can you guys hear something?”

They all listened for a moment then Isacar tensed up.

“Yeah, I heard it. It sounds like someone screaming.”

Blair's face grew scared then she ran out of the door. Isacar and the others were right on her heals.

“Blair, where are you going?” Eryn called after her.

Blair replied as she ran.

“Its coming from my house. It sounds like Bethel!”

As they ran, they all heard three gun shots coming from down the street. Isacar caught up to her and was just a few houses away from Blair's when he saw a group of Marks standing around her house. Thinking quickly, he grabbed Blair's arm and pulled her into a alleyway. The others followed. As they pressed their backs against the wall, they heard another scream. Blair was about to yell at her friend when he put a hand over her mouth and whispered to her.

“Blair, be quiet! I saw several Marks standing around your house. Just wait a second!”

She removed his hand but he blocked the her way.

“I know! Bethel's at the house and I need to get to her!” she whispered back.

Camryn peered around a wall and watched the Marks, his anger growing. One of them came out of the house with a small child in his arms and they began talking and started gesturing with their daggers and guns at her. Camryn had never seen Bethel, but he knew that this girl was in danger. Blair was struggling in Isacar's grasp.

“Let me go! I have to save Bethel!”

Isacar tried to calm her down.

“Blair, there was at least thirteen Marks standing around your house! It would be suicide to go over there now!”

Camryn watched the Marks carefully. They talked a few minutes longer then nodded to each other, walking away from the house down another street. Camryn nodded to Isacar.

“They left. Its safe to go now.”

Blair pulled away from Isacar and started running towards her house. Isacar and the others followed her, running behind. He still held his dagger in his hand, gripping it tight. As they ran up to the house, no Marks were insight, but something wasn't right about it. Isacar began walking towards the door when Blair ran out of the house, her face stricken with grief. Isacar steadied her.

“Blair, where is she? What happened?”

Blair couldn't stop her tears.

“They took her! They took Bethel!”

Jake walked up to the door and opened it. The house was a mess, the mirror lying on the floor, the chest knocked about and the beds kicked all around the house. He saw several bullet holes in the wall then turned back to Isacar, shaking his head. Isacar held Blair close, trying to comfort her.

“Why? What did I do wrong!?” her sobs came out in gasps, letting Isacar hold her.

“They did something wrong, not you, Blair.” Isacar said fiercely, a tear springing to his eye. Bethel was like a sister to him. He tried to contain his rage. Rage at the Mark's, rage at himself for having no words for Blair. Camryn's face was a mask of anger.

“We need to go after them.”

“No!” Eryn said, facing up to him. “They'll kill us if we follow them.”

“But Eryn, they're gonna kill if we-”

“Eryn's right.” Isacar said. “We can't just go dashing off after them. We don't know why they took her yet.”

Jake looked from him to Camryn.

“But, they're gonna kill her!” he said.

Isacar shook his head.

“No, if they were going to kill her, they would have done it here and saved them time.”

Camryn was walking back and forth, agitated.

“But what are we gonna do?”

Isacar lost his patients with them.

“I don't know! I don't know anything, okay?! Just calm down and let me think!”

Blair tried to pull herself together.

“What did I do? I've tried so hard to play by the rules, and they still took her!? Why? Why?!”

Isacar looked at her.

“Blair... Are you okay?”

Blair bit her lip, trying to toughen up.

“I never should have left her! I should have been here!”

“You can't say that. You were working to feed her, Blair. What would you have done if you were there? They would have killed you too.”

“They didn't kill her,” Camryn said. “They took her away.”

“We don't know that.” Jake rejected. “Didn't we hear gun shots?”

Camryn elbowed him sharply.

“Shut up, will you?” he said quietly so that Blair couldn't hear.

Eryn put a hand on Blair's shoulder but couldn't think of anything to say. Isacar heard footsteps running up behind him. He turned his head seeing Ben, his little brother standing there breathless.

“Ben, what's wrong?” he asked.

Ben was scared.

“Isacar... The Mark's took Ange and Luther.”

“What?” Isacar's face looked like he had grown several years older all of the sudden.

Eryn took Blair's hand. Isacar knelt down until he was eye level with his brother.

“When? And where? They... They didn't take mom did they?”

Ben shook his head.

“No, they didn't take mom. She wanted me to find you.”

Isacar looked at Blair and Eryn.

“I have to go.”

Blair nodded.

“Go. I'll be alright...”

Isacar gave her a reassuring smile then left, running with his brother down the gray street. Blair looked into Eryn's eyes.

“What am I going to do now?”

Eryn watched Isacar leaving.

“We're going to get them back.”

The Sage's Daughter: Chapter 2

Isacar and Blair walked out of the house, their arms loaded with packages of cheeses that Kary had made. This was Kary's business that kept her family going. Isacar's mother was very smart and knew how to make ends meet. Blair wished she was like her, but knew that would never happen. She and Isacar walked down the steps silently, each with their own thoughts. Isacar watched her as they walked down the streets. She seemed more depressed the usually.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Blair adjusted the cheese she was carrying.

“Not really... I tried to stop Wryn from going to The House.”

Isacar looked concerned.

“And did she?”

She sighed.

“Yes, she did.”

“Why didn't you stop her?”

“I tried!” Blair answered bitterly. “What was I supposed to do after warning her? They might have called the Marks on me.”

Isacar looked angry.

“Blast the Marks.”

Blair grabbed his arm and almost dropped all the cheese.

“Isacar! Keep your voice down!”

He helped her put the packages back in her arms and they kept walking.

“Sorry, Blair.” he said gruffly.

Blair knew that he was only sorry that he put her in danger, not that he had spoken against the Marks.

“Your gonna get yourself killed one of these days.” she began. “Blasting the Marks, saying you won't get drafted, are you nuts?”

He looked at her, dead serious.

“Listen to me, Blair. We are not going to be drafted. What will happen to Bethel if you get drafted, or even my family? Five mouths to feed isn't easy.”

Blair looked hesitant.

“Well we wouldn't be much good to them dead.”

“We're dead ether way.”

Blair agreed with him in her heart but she was to scared to try to fight.

“Isacar... You know I hate the Marks as much as you do, but there's nothing we can do about it.”

Isacar saw a Mark patrol coming.

“Quiet.” he hissed.

They both tried not to make eye contact with the Marks as they past. Once they were gone, Blair looked over her shoulder.

“Maybe we'd better talk about something else.”

Isacar seemed happy to.

“You know Rodger and Merrie?”

Blair nodded.

“Yeah, they work at the clothes factory.”

“Did you know that they got married?” he asked.

Blair stopped short.

“What?”

“Yes, they did. Rodger told me that for their wedding he just gave her the ring because of all the red tape you have to go threw to get married. I agree with him.”

Blair looked doubtful.

“Their both very young. Almost our ages.”

“Yes, but they are very committed. I guess all the rules of marriage have at least made the couple committed. My mother says its better to marry young, because people don't live as long as when she was a kid.”

“Well thanks for that cheery thought.” she muttered under her breath, beginning to walk again.

“Its true.” said Isacar, defending himself.

He looked thoughtful.

“I think when I get married, I'm going to do that to. Besides, I'm eighteen now and the Marks would get all nosy if they heard about it. I mean, if I give the girl the ring, that's all that matters. I just need something symbolize our love.”

Blair suddenly realized what he meant and blushed. He seemed just then to realize what he said to and quickly corrected himself.

“Oh, eh, I mean hers and mine.”

She couldn't help giggling. A quiet moment went by the she spoke

“I agree with you, Isacar.” she said softly.

He smiled and then they walked in silence for a while. Blair started to think about the drafting. It was twenty years ago that the Marks enforced the All Draft law where either man or woman had to be drafted when they turned eighteen, no exceptions. And they had to serve as a Mark for five years, the first for training, but they often kept them longer then that. Blair guessed that that was what happened to her parents, even though they were not eighteen, the Marks sometimes took older people who had not been drafted yet. But her father had always spoken so much against the Marks that they could have taken them away to kill them. Blair was afraid to think what would happen to Bethel when she would be forced to become a Mark. Turning a corner, they walked into the market place. It was alive with people selling and buying, or trading. Isacar and Blair stayed close together so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd. They made their way over to a small table and set the cheese down on it. Blair began staking it neatly in rows. They always had three or for certain costumers on Sunday. A young lady, who's name Blair could never remember. Then a little boy, Hannan, who Isacar knew. After that, an old gentleman, Mr Ganruff by name, would come. He always seemed to be sad... Or depressed. And then the last Isacar and Blair always sold to was Rennie, a thirteen year old girl who's grandfather was a very rich man. But, having known her for a while, they had found out that her grandfather drank and beat her whenever he became drunk. Blair felt sorry for her, and wondered if Rennie's life was worse then hers.

The young lady walked up, carrying a big black bag and wearing a black hat on her head. She quickly picked out two small cheeses then left, apparently in a hurry. Isacar started to juggle the cheese, bored.

“Your going to drop it.” Blair warned.

“No I'm not.” he replied.

Something caught his eye and he dropped one. Luckily, it landed on the table. The person he saw was the little boy Hannan, walking towards them. He smiled at Hannan.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Did you bring your girlfriend along to help you?” he asked.

Blair and Isacar looked at each other.

“Uh, yeah.” Isacar answered.

Blair elbowed him in the ribs.

“Nobody told me about this.”

Isacar grinned.

“Well, your a girl and your my friend. Aren't you?”

Blair gave him a look, then grinned back.

“So, what kind of cheese are you getting today, Hannan?” she said, changing the subject.

Hannan looked at the cheese then pointed to a small one.

“That one, I think. My mom just wants a small one this time.”

“It seems like everyone is buying the small ones.” Isacar commented quietly.

Hannan gave Blair a five dollars and she gave him the cheese. He waved to them then walked off.

“Everybody's making just enough to make ends meet, no thanks to the Marks.” he murmured.

Blair didn't answer. If anybody knew about that, it would be her and Isacar. The stood there, waiting. A group of Marks past by, all well armed. Blair and Isacar starred at the ground as they walked by. As they walked out of the market place, Blair saw the old gentleman walking towards them with his sorrowful expression on his face. He leaned on a cane as he walked. She and Isacar smiled at him, greeting him as he walked up.

“Good day, sir.” she said.

He forced a smile, but didn't look up from the cheese that he was inspecting.

“I'll take that pale cheese there.” he said abruptly.

Blair gave it to him and he put the money on the table. Isacar took it and thanked him.

“Good day, you two. Be careful.” he said.

He never talked like that. He almost never talked at all, but they both nodded. They waited for a while, watching all the people going to and fro. Isacar caught a glimpse of Rennie slowly making her way over to the table. He nudged his companion.

“Look, Rennie's coming.”

Blair smiled and waved to her. Rennie walked up, holding a basket in her arms.

“Hello, Rennie.”

As Rennie turned her head to look at her, Blair saw a brews on her cheek. She felt a pang of sympathy for her as she tried to find her voice. She was so mad at the girl's grandfather for doing this to her.

“How are you today?” she asked, thinking how stupid the question was.

“I'm fine.” she said quietly.

She was very shy. Rennie looked at the cheeses.

“My grandfather wants two big ones.”

Isacar gave them to her.

“Thank you.”

Isacar smiled and nodded.

“Rennie...” Blair began. “Are you sure your okay?”

Rennie looked like she was about to answer when she heard someone calling her.

“I... I have to go. Sorry.” she ran off, clutching the basket close.

Blair sighed and looked down at the table. Was there nothing she could do?

“I can't help any of this.” she said despairingly.

Isacar looked at her quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

Blair shook her head.

“I can't stop Wryn from going to The House, I can't stop Rennie's grandfather from drinking, I can't stop the Marks from taking you away from...” she trailed off, as if not wanting to say more.

“From what?” he asked.

She tried to shrug off what she had been planning to say.

“From us.”

He looked into her eyes.

“Don't give up, or you really won't be any help.”

She forced a smile and leaned on the table.

“Slow and steady?”

They stood there for three more hours, until it turned dark. Isacar gave Blair her share of the money then she helped Isacar pile the rest of the cheese they hadn't sold into his arms. It was getting cold and they both were ready to go to their homes.

“Goodnight.” he said.

“Goodnight... I'll see you tomorrow, right?”

“That depends on if I'm selling her tomorrow. But most likely.”

Blair nodded then they both parted, Isacar going down one street and she going another. The walk back was uneventful, which Blair was glad. She walked up to the her house and opened the door. Walking in, she placed a package of cheese that Isacar had given her on the table. Blair turned to see that Bethel asleep, laying in her bed with her yarn still in her small hands. Blair smiled. Taking off her boots, jacket and belt quickly, she stole over to her little sister and picked up her blanket. Covering Bethel gently, Blair stroked her little sister's hair. Blair didn't know what she would do without Bethel, probably go crazy with nothing to do she thought. Rolling over, Blair lay down on her bed which was made up of old sheets and blankets too. Laying her head on the pillow, she soon fell asleep, tired out from standing all day. 

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The Sage's Daughter: Chapter 1

Blair Sage stirred, opening one eye slowly. She quickly shut it again as sunlight streamed in threw the window like a stern school master wanting her to answer a question. With a great effort she opened both of her eyelids and glared at the old bed sheets they used as curtains. They stirred gently, moved by the wind coming in threw a crack in the windowpane. Bethel, Blair's little sister, lay under it, her thin shoulders shivering under her blanket. Her bed was made up of old blankets, softening the hard wooden floor. Blair sat up, trying to rub some warmth into her legs. It was a Sunday: A day off of work. Blair was glad that there were days where you could rest from work without being fired. Standing up, she walked over to a black chest at the end of the bed. She opened it. Inside, hers and Bethel's clothes were folded neatly in stacks. She smiled. Her little sister must have done that. Blair picked out her black jeans and a brown tunic. She slipped out of the dress she was wearing and into the clothes she had picked out then pulled on her long black boots. Standing in front of the mirror that overhang the chest, she looked at her reflection and saw a tired, sixteen year old girl with her long blond hair hanging tangled around her shoulders, and her blue eyes that had no spark left in them. The mirror had a long crack in it, running from one corner to the other. Blair touched it, running a finger tip down the jagged break. It was a reminder to her of the day she lost her parents. She and her little sister had gone to a friends house for the day, but Blair couldn't remember why. When they had come home that night, the house was empty. Several plates had been smashed on the floor, the chest had been turned over and the mirror had been cracked. That was three years ago and Blair had been left to fend for Bethel, alone. Bethel was five now, thinner then any person should be at that age but Blair was helpless to do anything more then what she had already done. Her job, working at a clothes making factory, paid her every month, but between she and her little sister ran out of food. Blair had pride, that is she did not like begging for anything, but she would for Bethel's sake. She had sold almost everything in the house that wasn't nailed down to pay for food. Blair looked down at the opened chest.

“Has it really come to this?” she asked herself.

Bending down, she carefully took a white dress out, smoothing out the wrinkles in its clothe. It was her mother's wedding dress. It was simple and homemade, but to Blair, it was beautiful. She held it, undecided. The only food left was a package of crackers in the small room they called a kitchen. But this was her mother's dress, a cherished memory. She put it back, thinking that if it really came to it, she would sell it but they were not there quite yet. Grabbing her black leather jacket up from the floor, she put it on, zipping it up. Blair walked quietly over to Bethel and shook her shoulder gently.

“Bethel? Bethel, you need to wake up.”

Her sister sat up sleepily, as her red hair fell over her face. She rubbed her eyes then looked up at Blair.

“Hi, Blair.”

Blair smiled.

“Good morning. You need to wake up so that you can eat...” she was about to say 'breakfast' but then thought better of it. “The crackers we have left before I go to work.”

“But I thought you don't need to go to work today.” Bethel said, looking disappointed.

“I have to do some things for Mrs Blackmen.”

This seemed to wake the younger one up.

“Can I come and play with Ange and Luther?”

Blair helped her up.

“Not this time. I'm not staying at their house.”

Bethel seemed crestfallen, but only for a moment.

“Blair,” she said. “I'm almost done with one of the gloves I'm working on!” she seemed very proud of herself.

“Good, maybe I'll try to sell them next week.”

“Well, I was gonna make them for someone as a surprise.” said Bethel, looking secretive.

Blair patted her head.

“That's fine too.”

Their mother had bought a lot of yarn since she loved to make stuff with it. Bethel had carried this on, growing quite good at it. Blair was impressed sometimes at the things she had made. It helped a little with buying food, but not much. Because they had to find someone who was kindhearted enough to buy one. Blair went over to the kitchen and brought out a package of crackers from the top shelf. She walked back over to Bethel and handed it to her.

“Eat that. I don't have anything else at the moment that you can have...”

Bethel spoke threw a mouthful of food.

“Maybe Mrs Blackmen can give you some of her cheese.”

“Oh, no, Bethel. We can't ask for that. She has more people to feed in her family. She's got herself, Ange, Ben, Luther-”

“And Isacar.” her little sister chimed in.

Blair looked down at the floor.

“Yes, and Isacar... Eat those then start working on your gloves. I'll be back before dark.”

Bethel nodded, watching her older sister walk towards the door. Blair took her belt from the side of her bed. The sheath that held her dagger was attached to it. She checked the dagger. It was a long, curved knife that her father had given her to protect her. She put it back in the sheath and buckled it on. Her jacket was long enough to conceal it. Taking one more look at Bethel, Blair opened the door and walked out, shutting it behind her.

She looked at the sun, fingers of cloud beginning to curl around it. Blair guessed it would rain sometime that day. Setting off down the gray street, Blair hugged herself. It was cold, a late fall day with chilling winds. Several people were walking on the streets too, going their own ways. Blair starred at the ground while she walked, trying to look as unimportant as possible. Trying to get attention was dangerous in the city she lived in, and she guessed most in America.

Three girls, all about Blair's age, walked or stumbled up to her, all leaning on each other and giggling. She recognized one, Wryn, who worked at the clothes factory with her. Wryn smiled and laughed, beckoning Blair to follow.

“Come on, Blair. We're going to The House. Wanna join us?”

All three stopped in front of her. Blair looked at her, shucked at her behavior.

“Wryn, what are you doing?”

Her one time friend waved a carefree hand at her.

“To The House, Blair. Mia says there's gonna be quite the company.”

Mia, the oldest of the three smiled and giggled, blushing. She had a beer bottle in her hand. Blair looked her up and down, not amused. Gently, she took Wryn's arm and pulled her away from the other girls.

“Wryn, what are you thinking?”

She saw the false joy sparkling in her friends brilliant green eyes, which was really fear at being caught in the act.

“These are my friends, Mia and Jen. Is there a problem with that?”

“Wryn! You can't go to The House! What will your mom think? And what if you-”

“That won't happen,” Wryn said knowingly. “Mia won't let anything bad happen to me.”

Blair gave her a long stare.

“I'm gonna have to tell your mom.”

Wryn didn't seem to care about what her friend just said. Blair crossed her arms.

“Don't go, don't tell, because there won't be anything to tell.”

Wryn glared at her, obviously flustered.

“My mom... Left. Don't know where. And now I'm on my own! I gotta do what will get me money.”

Blair was confused. If her mom had left her, why wasn't she sad?

“Wryn... I'm sorry that your mom left you.”

Wryn shrugged.

“Don't be. I'm better off by myself.”

Blair tried to hide her pain at the way her friend was acting.

“Wryn, believe me, living with yourself in charge is not fun. Its just work, and pain, and loss.”

Wryn drew away from her.

“That's because of Bethel. If you didn't need babysit her, you'd be out with the best of us.”

“Doing the worst things!” Blair added, her voice strained with concern.

Mia and Jen were not listening. Mia shared the beer bottle with her friend and called to Wryn.

“Are you coming?”

Blair and Wryn locked eyes for a second then Wryn broke the the spell, walking back towards the other girls.

“Yeah, I'm coming. Really Blair, this is the way to make money.”

Blair shook her head.

“It is, isn't it?”

This seemed to aggravate them, but she ignored them and started to walk away. Mia called after her.

“Oh, come on, girly! Its not like its against the law.”

Blair sighed, hating how helpless she felt. Wryn was only fourteen. Blair knew that Mia had pressured her into going. She had tried to do that to her as well. Blair put a hand on her face, shaking her head. She found herself wondering what it would be like to live like them. Blair's mother had told her that doing something wrong, even if its to save somebody else, is wrong. That's why Blair took a job, to be able to have money without doing something wrong. Blair knew that Mia and the others were being paid for men to use them, and that made her sick. They could not see how wrong that actually was. For them, there was nothing negative about it. If they get pregnant, they can get an abortion for free and they foolishly thought that they were save from abuse since they were at The House. Blair looked to her left. It was a alley, where someone had tried to abuse her. Blair shuddered, recalling that day.

It had been the first day she had worked at the factory. Blair had come away with a bloody finger. She was sewing and the needle had gone threw it. She held it, walking back to her house when she heard footsteps following her. She looked over her shoulder but nobody was there. She past by the alley when a hand reached out and grabbed her. Blair let out a cry of surprise but someone clamped a hand over her mouth and shoved her against the wall. She looked up at a tall man, his dark hair shadowing his face. He held her there with his arms and smiled.

“Well, what do we have here?”

He looked lustfully at her, touching her cheek gently with his hand. Blair had been inching her hand towards her dagger but brought it out as he bent down towards her face. She didn't have the guts to stab him, so she punched him in the face with her fist clutching the blade. He staggered back, unhanding her for a second. Blair held the knife, her hand shaking slightly. With his nose bleeding, he reached out, trying to grab her hair. She slashed out with her blade, leaving a wide gash in his arm. He grabbed her shoulders, trying to gain control but Blair stabbed with the dagger at his chest. She felt his hot breath on her neck for a second then he let go of her and slumped to the ground. Blair started running, fear rising in her throat. She didn't look back to see if he was following her.

That memory still hunted Blair. She had nightmares that she killed him and she never really knew if she did. The morning after that happened, his body wasn't laying there in the alley. After that night, she had never left the house without her dagger. Blair almost ran into someone in the street. She was quick and sidestepped, keeping her head down. The person, a young man flashed a dangerous smile at her. He was a Mark. She nodded to him, not out of friendship and carried on. Four other Mark's were with him. They all starred at her as she past by. The Marks were the governing power in America, their iron fist choking any uprising. Blair was scared of them. They did what ever they wanted and only enforced obedience to the Marks. They didn't care if someone was abused or stolen from, but they took some interest in murder cases. The Marks were promised to be the perfect way to rule in peace, but the people did not see this at work. Some of the bigger cities were starting to have more Marks, but then they also had more food. Since the town where Blair lived was a small one, the Marks didn't bother to send food there. Her father had hated them. She could remember heated debates about the Marks and how they ruled. Blair tried to not break the law and live her dismal life quietly. She was not sure that was everybody's view on it though. She turned a corner and walked down a street with lots tiny houses jammed together. She stopped at the 5^th one and walked up the steps to the door. She knocked on it.

The door opened and Mrs Blackmen stood there, holding her five year old Luther in her arms. She smiled at Blair.

“Come in, miss Blair. I just made some bread, do you want some?”

Blair stepped in, feeling the warmth in there house. They had a fire place which was very useful in the cold seasons. Blair shook her head.

“Oh, I couldn't have some. Your kids need it more then I do.”

Mrs Blackmen, or Kary as she was more well known as, looked concerned.

“Blair, that's not true. You need to eat just as well as the next person. Goodness, child, when was the last time you ate?”

Blair closed her eyes, trying to remember.

“Three or four days, I think.”

Kary put Luther down and ushered Blair into their tiny kitchen.

“I won't let you work for me today til you eat some of my bread.”

Blair complied, sitting down at their table. Ange, Kary's little girl, walked up to her holding a doll.

“Did Bethel come?” she asked.

“No, she couldn't.”

Ange's looked disappointed. Blair smiled.

“Maybe next time.”

“Hi, Blair.”

Blair looked up and Isacar standing there, watching her. He was tall and hansom, his dark hair covering his mischievous eyes. She smiled at him.

“Hey.” she answered.

He sat down at the table beside her.

“You didn't come to my birthday party yesterday.” he said almost teasingly.

She looked down at her hands.

“Well, I would have ruined your celebration of your eighteenth birthday.” her sarcasm was plain.

He shrugged.

“Well, don't you like celebrating that I'm alive?”

This was how it always was, them two trying to outdo each other with sarcasm.

“Yes, but your turning eighteen... Your going to be drafted next month. What's to celebrate about that?”

He looked at her with his piercing brown eyes.

“I'm not going to be drafted, Blair.”

Blair could tell that there was something more in those words but Kary came in before she could reply. She put a plate in front of her that had one slice of bread on it. Blair smiled at Kary. She knew that Kary had the same disdain for the Marks as Isacar, or even Blair's dad. She often thought that the kind, forward woman knew more then she would say about the Marks. But everyone was drafted. If you tried to fight them they would kill you. The smell of the bread made Blair feel weak but she felt guilty even touching it. She picked it up and nodded at Kary.

“Thank you.”

Kary smiled back. Blair knew that it would be rude to not except it now. She ate it quickly, then noticed that Isacar was starring at her. He grinned and her and she rolled her eyes. They were best friends, if pulled apart with there views of the Marks, they still manage to get along very well with there sarcastic personalities. Blair stood and thanked Kary. She turned back to Isacar.

“So, how much cheese are we selling today?”

Isacar stood as well.

“As much as we can.”

The Sage's Daughter: Prologue

He stood at the window, his hard eyes scanning the city. A light went out, then another and another. He turned his gaze to the tall buildings, watching as people went to and fro. He fingered a knife in his gloved hands, running it against his palm.

The door behind Him slid opened silently. His black cape swished slightly as He turned his head. A man, dressed all in black stood in the doorway.

“Come, Adar. Make your report.”

Adar walked slowly up to the caped one.

“My Master, Aymeric, America is ours in full.”

Aymeric aloud his servant a smile.

“You did well, Adar.”

He turned back to the window.

“Your plan succeeded.”

“No,” his Master corrected him. “My plan has just begun. Cand will take Abiodun by force, and the world will love us for it. Jacob will work his way into Dashia, but you, Adar, you will start to reform this land we have worked so hard for.”

Another light went out.

“Look, what do you see?” he asked.

His servant looked out, seeing the city lights and people.

“I see a destitute country, Master.” he said in a low murmur.

Aymeric nodded.

“This is what war does. But now, we must show the people how good it can be to live under us. Schools, factories, hospitals. The hand of the Mark's must been shown.”

“Of course. And they will.” Adar answered, his dark eyes watching the knife that his Master was holding.

Aymeric put the dagger in its sheath and clasped his hands behind his back.

“Activate CM7.”

Adar hesitated for a second, then bowed his head.

“It will be done as you say, Master.”

He turned and began to walk towards the door when Aymeric's voice stopped him.

“Adar, do all that I have said and you will get your prize... And much more.”

He heard the door close as he kept his eyes on the city outside, watching.