Ash haunted my dreams that night.

He screamed and yelled at me. He cursed at me, glaring hatefully

How could you not tell me?! he said. She's my sister!

And all I could was stand there in shock, guilt coiling my stomach like a venomous viper.

Naturally, I didn't get much sleep that night.

I swallowed a yawn as I quickly got dressed in the black clothes left on my desk. My body felt big and clumsy, and I blinked several times, clearing the fogginess in my brain before emerging from my room.

Still, my eyelids felt heavy as I walked down the hallway. The floor started to sway, and I stumbled, leaning against the wall. The fogginess in my head was growing, to the point where I was barely able to see. Blinded, that's what I was.

I took a deep breath shakily, but it helped in no way.

Two young girls had started down the hallway I was in, giggling at whatever they were talking about them. Through my mostly-blinded vision, I could tell they both wore knee-length dresses, one sage green and one gray. Their faces were blurry, but I could make out that one had blonde hair and the other was a brunette.

"Help." I croaked. "Help!" I forced my voice louder.

I saw them look at me, recognition dawning in their widening eyes.

My subconscious consumed me with black ecstasy.

___

It had been a few days since the failed mission. Ash had been quieter lately. Thoughtful, even. Shadow still trained me, and I tried hard to not let her down. I was improving. Granted, slowly, but I was still improving.

I was heading back from training, exhausted, when Ash's voice made me pause.

"Osiris! Wait up!"

I turned to find him jogging toward me.

"Hey," I greeted him.

He smiled. "Sup." I noticed that he was fidgeting with his thumbs. "So I... I wanted to talk to you."

"Ok..." I said cautiously. "Talk, then." He just stood there, looking at me. "Ash?"

He suddenly stepped forward, and placed his lips on mine.

I froze. He kissed me slowly, cupping my cheek. His lips moved with mine gently.

It wasn't as gross as I thought it would be. In fact, it was nice. Really nice.

Finally, he stepped away. Grinned shyly. And spun on his heel, turning, and walked away.

I watched him go, still slightly in shock.

My first kiss.

I smiled. Not bad. Not bad at all.

We never spoke of it again. While the memory was nice, we had both silently agreed we had a relationship not fit to be romantic. It was just as well; we weren't ready for that kind of relationship.

___

Blood soaked the white carpet, turning it a dark red color.

I ignored the man's screams and pleas as I cut him into pieces. The words of my boss were still ringing in my ears.

"Here is your next target. His name is not important. All you need is his picture and his whereabouts." I was handed a thin folder, and left.

I never asked who he was. I never did anymore.

I just went. And I killed. Next target? Tracked them. Killed them. And repeat.

I wasn't that young girl anymore, learning to fight for herself and her world. I didn't have those opportunities, those chances to do the world some good. Not anymore.

I was a killer; a puppet on a string of the world I lived in. And the High Ranks were the puppeteers.

I left my target's office without a trace, the man's blood dripping off my sword.

My parents' would have been terrified of me. Shadow would be ashamed.

What would they say if they saw me right now? Dripped in blood and looking cold in the eyes?

I slipped into the darkness of an alley, and those who saw me coming, however few in number, cowered in fear.

Misery bears an impossible weight on my shoulders.

I'm a monster.

___

"Doctor, what is your diagnosis?"

"Poison in the blood." Blood. "Most likely from whatever caused the stab wound in her arm."

"Will she survive?"

"Yes. It has been cleaned before. Not enough to completely extract the poison, but enough to give her time to heal"

There was light in my vision now. It shone in my eyes, letting me see nothing but it.

"How is she now?"

"She will be fine. I extracted close to all of the poison. The rest will leave her system soon. For now, all she needs is rest."

"Alright. Thank you. Please leave us."

"Yes, my queen."

Then there was silence.

The second voice spoke to me. "You're awake, aren't you?"

I managed a nod.

"Good. Let's sit you up."

Strong arms pulled me up, until the bright light no longer blinded me and I could face Ash's sister.

A bland, unfamiliar room greeted me.

A round bedside desk sat on my right with multiple tonics placed there, while the collected woman beside me sat on a chair on my left.

"Where am I?" I asked, voice thick. I cleared it with a cough. My energy was fading quickly.

"The medic facility. You're in one of our rooms for patients."

"I hate hospitals."

"Would you rather I let you die?" she said, matter-of-fact.

"Did I just hear that doctor call you 'queen'?" I said, changing the subject.

Her dark eyes narrowed, as if she had noticed, but she replied. "The Insurgents call me many things. 'Queen' is one of them. I am not the only leader, just one of the council that was elected to make decisions regarding The Insurgence. But, for some reason, I've become the person they turn to, the one they aspire to be."

"You've become their true leader," I said softly.

Her face softened. "Yes."

She looked vulnerable, as if she had revealed a fragile layer of skin beneath thick armor.

I admired that exposed feeling that went through her body, making her shoulders rigid, her core tense, and her dark eyes brighten with emotion.

"You remind me of your mother," I spoke again, just as softly.

"Do I? What about me reminds you of her?"

"Many things. Your features, your ability to fake a cool and collected demeanor, your strength..." I trailed off, noticing her eyes darken, and quickly changed the subject. "You know, I never got your name."

She blinked, eyes immediately losing that strange darkness. "My name?"

"Yes."

She gave a small smile, lips and teeth arranged perfectly as she said, "Aliya. My name is Aliya."

___

My recovery was quick.

A few days in bed and then the remaining poison was completely gone.

Alyia stayed with me almost every day. Why, I didn't know.

Maybe she needed me alive, to put that debt I owed to use.

Sleep had become my friend, and greeted me often.

The doctor - who I had learned had the name of Cory Standson- was doing my last checkup before letting me go from the healing center. He had become a lot more comfortable with me since I had first interacted with him, when he acted wary and afraid of me. At times, he even indulged me with some small talk. He was just finishing up wrapping my arm with a fresh bandage, spinning it so it wouldn't come loose, when the ground shook.

I grabbed a post of the bed, and caught Allen's arm before he fell.

Screams came from all around us.

I put the doctor's hand on the bed so he could balance himself, and slowly stumbled toward the stone room.

I quickly ran down the steps, almost tripping several times as a few more waves of world-trembling shakes came.

Just as I had reached the bottom of the long stairs, a young voice screamed. I whipped around, finding a girl about to be hit by falling pieces of the stone walls.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her away just as a pile of heavy stone from the wall crashed right where she was standing. I covered her head as we moved away.

Suddenly, the shaking stopped. I released the girl. She looked around with tear-stained cheeks.

People looked around with wide eyes, some rising from where they had fallen on the ground. They all looked across the room, where I realized Aliya stood on a platform.

She spoke, voice just loud enough to reach everyone in the room. "The other leaders and I will soon figure out ways to stop this from happening again, defeating the cause of it. For now, gather the wounded and get some rest."

The people murmured, but helped their friends and family up, and began to disperse.

I looked down at the young girl. She was shaking violently, and her eyes were wide and terrified. I crouched down to face her.

"Hey..." I said in a calm voice, despite the chaos that just occurred.

She looked up at me, and I felt like I was punched as the fear in her eyes grew.

"White Shadow! It's The White Shadow! She's coming to kill us all!" he screamed, and I froze as all the attention in the stone room was directed toward me.

People threw hateful glares, hissing "Monster" as they pulled the girl back, as they pulled her away.

That hole where my heart used to be grew.

Alyia was reaching me quickly, but I gave her a look to leave it alone.

After all, they were right.

I was a monster.

___

I was lost in my thoughts when a knock at my door jolted me into my senses. I shook the startle off and strode to the door of the bland room, opening in to find the one and only Aliya.

I sighed. "If you're here to give me some inspirational speech about how 'I'm not a monster' and 'they don't understand me'..." I trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence implied.

Aliya smiled, somewhat grim. "I wouldn't dream of it."

And then there was nothing left to do but let her in.

Her shoes tapped against the old, wooden floor and she sat on my bed, not even flinching as it creaked and squeaked in protest.

A queen used to a life of discomfort.

"So.. What do you think happened today?" I asked carefully.

Aliya opened her mouth, and I could practically see the lie forming in her mind. But she met my eyes, and seemed to change her mind. "I..." She sighed, "I don't know. The High Ranked and the Peacekeepers have suspected po

"Why are you here, Aliya?" I asked, the toll of the long day becoming more noticeable by the minute as exhaustion wore heavy on my body.

Aliya must have noticed the quiet tiredness in my voice because her determined expression slowly melted into a weathered, more sincere one.

"You accepted those insults today..." she began, choosing her words carefully. "You believed them."

I turned to my desk beside me, looking at the few belongings placed on it. A few old pictures, a couple daggers and knives, a little money. "You don't?" I couldn't help but avoid the tiny crack in my voice from the way she looked at me: there was pure, raw, soft kindness in her eyes.

No one has looked at me like that for a long time. Not even Amania. No, these days she looked at me with distrust, and with pity.

Aliya hesitated. "I...don't know what I believe, when it comes to you."

I bit my lip. What was that supposed to mean?

"I'm a confusing woman," is all I could bring myself to say.

A soft snort came from the queen. "To say the least."

I sigh, leaning on the small desk, faced away from Amania.

So much had happened, and the fight had barely begun. I flinched as I remembered my nightmare about Ash.

When would we meet up next? When would we cross paths? And when we do, could I muster the courage to tell him? About Alyia, about shadow's lies? I know for both of us, Shadow was so important. For him, a mother. For me, a guardian and protector. How could I hurt him like that? How could I let the truth rip him apart?

But at the same time, how could I not? He deserves to know. He deserves to meet his sister, his sibling. He deserves to know her.

When I turn back to Aliya, all I can see is the similarities between Ash and her. All I can see is their identical, striking, emerald eyes. All I can see is the similarities between both their dark hair.

"Selina?"

My heart shuttered at that name, the way her voice sounded so much like Shadow's like Ash's. Guilt spread all the way to my toes. It was Ash's face now, haunting me as it stared into my eyes, at my face.

How could you not tell me?!

"Selina?" Alyia's voice came again.

I blinked and found Aliya looking at me with worried eyes, not Ash.

My body sighed with relief, and I found my knees buckling. Aliya shot forward to catch me in case I fell.

I waved her off, leaning on the desk instead. I focused on inhaling deeply and consecutively. Aliya ignored me, placing a supportive hand on my back. And while I had dismissed her before, I felt relieved to have something steady to lean on. And Aliya knew it, and kept her hand there.

She led me to my bed. I sat on the foot of the bed as she leaned, slipping off my worn boots and the black jacket I wore for warmth.

Underneath, a small, white t-shirt came into full view, the only light color in my outfit with my gray, stiff pants and the rest of my black outfit.

Aliya's eyes drifted the few drops of blood I was unable to rid after a particularly bloody kill. I knew pain was clear in my eyes as the guilt within me grew even more.

I watched her in the corner of my eyes as her eyes flashed with unreadable emotion. Still, no judgment was revealed in her expression as she hung my jacket on the doorknob of my door and placed my boots neatly next to the doorway.

After, the feeling of her steady strength returned with her body. Not being able to help it, I leaned into her touch as she stroked the side of my face. There was pure vulnerability in my eyes now, in my expression. That was clear. I couldn't help it. Not around Aliya. Still, she did not speak, did not comment once on it.

And with that choice of action, I found myself relaxing my head on her lap. She stilled, but I did not move. No, suddenly that felt like such a great task, a task so draining it was impossible.

Maybe she knew that, because she didn't coax me to move. Instead her fingers ran through my hair, calloused but steady.

She smelled like safety, like Christmas trees and happy memories.

Like memories that had been forgotten long ago, memories that lived in the deepest part of my mind.

For the first time, I would have preferred reality to the dream awaiting me.

I found myself standing on a long, pebbled path. Mist curled around me, hiding the things that hid, hiding the things that no doubt watched.

The mist began to thicken. It began to wrap around my neck. Choking me, suffocating me.

I began to run. Faster! Faster! I willed my legs into higher speeds, ignoring when they protested.

I kept going. I ran and ran down that pebbled path until a huge, stone door came into view. I stopped at the foot of it. I studied the door and found small tracings carved into the stone. They are invisible to those farther away. Clear to those closer.

The ground underneath me rumbled, as if an earthquake were about to occur.

My heart stopped as I looked down, finding the path split with a jagged line. Suddenly, the ground had split open and I was falling through.

Amania was gone by the time I had awoken. Her scent had lingered, all too familiar. I dress quickly, in dark clothes that fit my usual style. After years of being taught to blend into shadows themselves, I'd learned to wear darker clothes to hide myself better.

I made my way to the dining room - a low-ceilinged room with dozens of picnic tables, huge, like all of the common rooms are - from pure memory.

As I entered the room, immediately, all eyes shifted to me. There were a few sneers at the pair of knives hanging off my belt. I kept my chin high, but didn't meet anyone's eyes as I made my way to get food from the small buffet, before migrating to an empty table in the corner of the room. Every pair of eyes followed me insistently.

I focused on my food as I ate quickly, eyes burning with frustration or humiliation, I wasn't sure. Maybe both.

These people had every right to hate me, to blame me for the fear they've felt ever since they could remember.

I knew that fear. But I felt because I knew the chances that this city would come back from the tyranny and death it was facing. They weren't good.

And yes, I will plead guilty for having a part in that. But I cannot bear the weight of all the misfortunes of The Insurgents. Because while I played a part in too many deaths to bear, I did not play a part in all of them. Yes, the guilt was too much to bear. And yes, I would believe you if you called me a monster and a killer. But I couldn't be blamed for every bad thing that's happened in this city.

Before I could second guess it, I stood up, first stepping on the seat I was sitting on, and then on the table itself. Immediately, all eyes are on me.

I took a breath shakily, and spoke loud enough so the entire room could hear me.

"I know you all blame me for all the horrible things that have happened to you," I started, resisting the urge to wince at the cold, dead silence that followed. I continued, "Losing your homes, your loved ones, your freedom; things no one should have ever taken away from you. And yes, I am partly to blame for that. Yes, I am guilty for ruining lives. And I will pay for that soon enough. But I should not be your enemy here. You can trust me-"

"How do we know you won't betray us?" a man called from a few tables away. He had a weathered face, one no doubt used to sleepless nights and endless frowns. Murmurs across the room arose with his question.

I smiled grimly, "I owe a debt to your queen. A life debt. I intend to do whatever I can to repay it."

The murmurs and mutters were silenced with my words. The meaning of them was powerful. And a quiet yielding followed.

A debt was like a favor. But a life debt. That was something that, chances are, you would never repay. I sat back down on the bench of the table. But there were worse people to owe debts too.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Aliya looking at me, with curiosity or wariness, I wasn't sure. I turned to her, and gave her a look, as if to say, I promise.

She nodded, and we held a gaze for a moment, unspoken words passing between us.

When I finally turned away, I sighed.

A long, hard fight was ahead of us. I glanced around at the Insurgents around me. I just hoped we were all ready.