"Let go of me!" Sydney demanded, kicking her legs at the men roughly carrying her through the streets of the dark and cold compound. "Let go!"

Moments after taking her out of Carter's sight, the men had lifted her into the air because of how difficult she'd made things when she was able to plant her feet down. Now, she struggled against their grip, hoping she'd be able to break free and attack, or run—whichever seemed more beneficial in the moment. Unfortunately, no opportunity like such arose, and as long as her hands were bound, she couldn't see anything of the sort taking place.

"What is wrong with you people!?" she shouted. "You can't just abduct people!"

"This is not an abduction," one of the men stated, his voice low, gravely, and nearly impossible to understand. "It's a repossesion."

"What the hell does that mean?" she questioned, eyeing him suspiciously.

Without looking at her, he mumbled, "You'll find out soon enough."

Gritting her teeth in contempt, she decided it'd be best to make the most of her predicament. 

Okay, Sydney, focus. Be smart. You can't get free at the moment, but you can plan ahead.

Eventually, she knew they'd have to put her down, and when they did, she'd try to escape. However, even if she managed to get out of wherever they were taking her, she'd have to know where to go next. To do that, she needed to mentally map out where she was.

As the seconds passed, a certain structure caught her attention, something she could use to identify her location—a large, ivory,  jagged rock, with some kind of inscriptions etched into it. It was in the very center of a wide, circular, concrete platform with a radius as long as three buildings and was surrounded by smaller stones encircling it, acting as a border. A part of her wanted to know what the rock said, put that was a curiosity that, quite literally, could get her killed.

Okay, they took a left at the rock...

...and a left at the hollow Oak tree.

Another left at the market place...

...and a right at the pub.

Some of the sights, although much less inviting and warm, reminded Sydney of Yorke, back in the Western Region. The market place, where she sat in the corner hoping to stay hidden, unsure of the type of people whirling past—unsure of if they could be trusted, or if they'd want to flog her, simply for being an easterner. The pub, where she originally sought shelter from the storm—the place she first saw Casey. When she fled from there, she wanted to get away from him, and the older couple that were beginning to uncover her lack of western blood. How ironic it was, now, that all she wanted to do was run back to him.

To Casey. 

The more Sydney studied her surroundings, the more the people watching became a blur, irrelevant to her task. They were like statues, ornaments next to the streets she worked on memorizing. None of them looked significant—none, until one person passed by.

A woman.

Her toffee brown skin contrasted against the deep green cloak she tried to shield herself in, and as she watched Sydney get dragged further away, a flash of concern appeared in her eyes. Sydney could tell this woman was not the same as the people that had watched on, unfazed as she was taken against her will. This woman was different—she didn't belong—and the nervous way she kept walking, coupled with the way her golden skin seemed dull, like the life had slowly been drained out of her, Sydney knew she had suffered—she had suffered by the hands of the same people that planned to make her endure the same.

As the woman's coal-like eyes connected with Sydney's dark blue ones, she covered her face deeper into her hood and disappeared into a shadow-flooded alleyway.

"We're here," one of the men murmured.

Upon hearing his words, Sydney tore her gaze from the woman's retreating figure and redirected it to the building in front of her. Unlike the houses, homes, and other structures she had passed so far, each seeming to be made from metal of all different kinds, mixed together as if they were found as scraps before being fortified together, this building was all made of dark grey stones. It stood tall—taller than all the others—and gave off the feeling of great importance. Everything about its design seemed purposeful; from the multiple floors, to the limited windows, to the paved walkway that led all the way up to two thick, black doors.

"What is this place?" Sydney wondered, more so to herself, but one of the goons still carrying her answered.

"The center of Stonehart. The home of our matriarch."

Stonehart? What, is that what they call their settlement?

Knowing she couldn't break free of their hold, Sydney allowed them to lug her inside, opting to save her energy for when it would count. As the dark double doors opened moments before they reached it, she wondered if whoever was inside had actually been expecting her.

"Is this her?" a man in an all black, military attire questioned as they came through the entryway.

"Yes."

"Are you sure? She would not be pleased if we bring her the wrong girl after all this time."

While her "escorts" confirmed that she was whoever they thought she was, Sydney kept her face harsh, cold, and uninviting.

I may be restrained now, but the moment I'm not—

"Oh, it's definitely her," a strong, calculating voice said, cutting off Sydney's thought by it's familiarity.

"And how would you know, Reagan?"

As if they had simply been waiting for their name to be spoken, the sound of heavy boots echoed throughout the large, open room until Sydney stood face to face with the mercenary she fought in Shadows Peak. The dark woman now before her held a smug smirk on her face, tilting her head slightly to the side as the man waited for her answer.

"Because," she said tauntingly. "We've met before. Isn't that right, Sydney?"

Holding her gaze fearlessly, despite being bound by arms as firm as steel and rope that scraped her skin raw, Sydney let the corners of her mouth turn up, remembering their encounter clearly.

"It is, and if I remember correctly, it wasn't a pleasant experience for you, was it?"

That caused Reagan's grin to drop.

"Could have been better," she admitted begrudgingly.

The tension between the two weighed heavily in the air, like a poisonous smog, and the three men in the entryway could feel it.

"Reagan, how do you know her? We've been searching for her for months."

"Not now, Greer," she clipped.

"If you knew her location and failed to alert us, you know what will—"

"I said not now!"

Her bark seemed to startle the aurburn haired man, but it didn't kill his drive. Judging by the look of his clothes, Sydney assumed that signified he held some kind of higher ranking, perhaps higher than Reagan, who wore simple black cargo pants and a grey crew-neck shirt. But, the way she carried herself spoke volumes, louder than any clothes could.

"If you think I'm letting this go, you are mistaken. I report to Diana—"

"Diana knows!" she shouted, cutting him off.

Seeing no sign of the two ceasing their argument, Sydney chimed in, hoping to infuriate the woman further.

"We met in Shadows Peak," she stated, earning her a grimace from Reagan and a curious brow-raise from Greer. Even the men holding her loosened their grip in surprise. Unfortunately, a second later, they realized what they were doing and tightened their hold, causing Sydney to wince and stripping her of a chance to break free.

"Really?"

"Yes, Greer, really," Reagan snarled.

An amused smile formed on his lips at the way the subject clearly bothered her. "Oh, I see. So things did not go as you would have liked."

Her jaw twitched at his statement.

"I left her tied to a tree," Sydney happily shared, revelling in the way Reagan glared at her.

She opened her mouth, beginning to say something, but a voice spoke up from behind, just outside the front door.

"What is the holdup!?"

"Lord Carter! We were, uh," the goons mumbled, turning to face the light blonde menace that wore impatience as a mask.

Lord?

"You were just wasting time," he answered sharply. "I told you! Take. Her. To. Diana!"

"Yes, sir!"

A second later, Sydney was being hauled through different halls, leaving Reagan and Greer behind, until she came upon a wide staircase. Looking up at where it lead, the door was not very welcoming. It was made from the same material as the front, and dark in color, but something about it made Sydney feel cold, like there was no life behind it.

"Let's go," the man to her left sighed before beginning their ascent.

At every step, Sydney tried to wedge her heels against it to keep from going any further, but all it did was slow them down. Eventually, they reached the top of the staircase, and all she could do was watch as they waited for it to be opened.

Knock knock knock!

Silence suspended in the air, hanging by a noose that's grip grew tighter the longer is stayed. Despite her mind's protests, nerves were settling in Sydney's body as she waited for what was to come.

It seemed she wasn't the only one sweating bullets.

For a second time, the man to her left knocked on the door, looking desperate for a response. This time, it came.

"State your name and matter of business," a blunt voice spoke from behind the door. Not even three seconds had passed before they spoke again. "Well, out with it! Or be gone!"

"H-Holden, son of Maren, and Phillip, son of Peter, Your Majesty. We have the girl you requested."

This time, it sounded as if the person behind the door was the one hesitating. But, sure enough, their voice never wavered when they asked, "Do you, really?"

"We believe so," he answered.

"Well, which is it?! Do you have her, or do you just believe you do?!"

The way they shouted with such fire caused the men to visibly flinch, unlike Sydney, who kept her eyes trained on the door, imagining who she'd find behind it—if it ever opened.

"Under Lord Carter's orders, we have brought her to you, Your Majesty. He seems certain that she is her."

Sydney was not dense. It didn't take her a second to connect that whoever was on the other side was the leader over everyone in the compound. They were in charge. They called the shots—they had to for them to be able to cause these large, threatening, intimidating men to cower at just the authority dripping from their voice. So that left her with one, gaping question.

What do they want with me?

"Very well, then. Bring her in."

Looks like I'm about to find out.

No longer being lifted everywhere, Sydney was gently nudged inside, but she could still feel the mountains of muscle behind her, ready to trap her if she attempted to run. So, instead, she braced herself for the worst possible outcome, and stepped inside the daunting room.

There was an overwhelming sense of emptiness staining the walls, the shelves, and lack of furniture, aside from the large dark wooded desk in the back. Even the air was thick, almost suffocating with the aura of burden, and when Sydney looked at who stood in the very center of the room, she found the source of it.

"Leave us," the older woman ordered, although her tone was not as harsh as before.

"But, Your Majesty—"

"Go," she reiterated, taking her gaze off of Sydney for the first time since she was brought in the room. "She wouldn't be foolish enough to try anything."

Don't be so sure of that.

"And if she is, I would strongly advice against such actions," she stated, her burning gaze back on her once more. "Considering her obvious disadvantage."

Referring to Sydney's bound hands, that seemed to appease the nervous men. Nodding their heads, they bowed quickly before rushing out of the room, closing it behind them. The soft thud echoed through the open room, reverberating off the walls, the floors, and even Sydney's bones, it felt.

With no buffer between her and the blonde woman that, undoubtedly, was queen of the mercenaries, she was forced to confront the very person that could be her end.

"What do you want from me?" Sydney questioned, the demand evident in her voice.

When the woman didn't immediately answer, she went on.

"You've killed people—my friend, my family," Sydney seethed as a flash of the beautiful, kindhearted redhead appeared in her mind. "Not only that, but you worked with President Denali to make sure I was the one blamed for it. I want an explanation, now."

Slowly, the woman's lips curled up into a small smile as she began circling the room, and Sydney. Her dark eyes stayed on Sydney's feet the closer she got until finally stopping directly in front of her. Sydney could tell by the woman's stance and posture that she did not intend to attack, but with no reason to trust her, she kept her guard up, just in case.

Once the woman had settled in her place, she lifted her eyes to Sydney's and stood just a few inches taller than her. The action caused Sydney to clench her hands into fists. The tiny motion hit against her backside, brushing her hands against an object she had forgotten was there, hidden in her back pocket.

What is this?

"You've grown into a beautiful young woman," the lady said, her voice carrying something in it Sydney was not used to. "I was afraid I wouldn't know for sure, but, I'd recognize those eyes anywhere."

The last bit was spoken so softly, like a delicate whisper, and suddenly Sydney felt uncomfortable, her mind no longer lingering on whatever Casey had tucked into her pocket before they were pulled apart back in Galdon. Clearing her throat, she restated her point.

"You've gone through so much trouble to bring me here. Why?"

Sighing, the woman answered, "Because, a mother can only go so long without her child before she's completely dead inside."

Taking a startled step back, Sydney kept her stare piercing, never letting up. "What?"

"You're a clever girl. I'm sure you can connect the pieces."

It was true, Sydney could. She hadn't forgotten the times she'd heard the mercenaries speak of her having a striking resemblence to someone of importance—a woman who sent them after her. Who could be more important than their queen? Not only that, but Carter insisted on calling her "cousin", which she liked to believe was a tactic to rile her up, but deep down she knew that couldn't be all it was. And then there was the way the mercenaries weren't allowed to harm her. She was "untouchable", as they had put it.

Still, with all those clues, Sydney refused to come to the conclusion herself, because, if she did, that meant more than just finding out she had a blood connection to these people. It meant she had a blood connection to the very people that had taken away the person she loved most in the world. Liz.

"If what you're insinuating is true, then I think it's only fair you gift me this answer, don't you?" Sydney snapped, her face forming a scowl as she looked at the dark-eyed woman with anger.

"Yes, I suppose so." Walking backwards until her backside rested against her dark wooded desk, the woman clasped her hands together in front of her before saying, "As you may have heard, my name is Diana Moraa, descendant of Avi Moraa, a man I'm sure you've learned plenty of in school."

When Sydney nodded her head, Diana continued. "Well, then you should know that when Galdon decided to dethrone his family, we moved further east."

"Get to the point."

"I am. I am," Diana said with the hint of a smile peeking through. "I just thought you might like to hear the history of your family from a relative. It could bring you a...new perspective."

"You are no relative of mine," Sydney growled.

"Oh, but I am."

No.

"I am much more than that, actually," Diana continued. "And I think, by now, you know this."

Stop!

"My precious Sydney," Diana said, the words sounding like a distant song to Sydney—one she wasn't prepared to hear.

Don't you dare say it!

No matter how loud Sydney's mind roared, she couldn't move. Her feet stayed planted to the dark stone beneath her, cemented by fear more than gravity or weight. Fear of the truth.

Her mouth was dry, yet her palms were a heap of sweat. Her thoughts were running, yet her sight was still, focused on one thing—the mouth of Diana Moraa, and what was about to come out of it.

"It's foolish of me to ask this, I know, but," Diana began, taking a step closer to the emotionally tormented eastern girl. "Can't you recognize your own mother?"

Author's Note:

Hey, adventure junkies!
I wasn't going to have an A/N this chapter, but I'm just dying to know what you all thought of this "lovely" reunion! 😅

What do you think of Diana?

How will Sydney react?

If you enjoyed this chapter and like this series, please consider voting and letting me know I have your support! 🙂
-Mac