61 The Lost Bookworm (2/2)

After all it had been pirates that sold her to the hell that was slavery, a pirate by the name of 'Sonya the lioness' to be precise.

She remembered that time, long ago when she had snuck into a rundown jetty that had moored at the beach of the island. She remembered the faint snickers that she had muffled as she hid beneath the tarp of the old boat. She remembered how stormy the day was, and remembered the sudden bellowing of the wind as the cord that held the boat ashore snapped. She remembered the zooming feeling that she felt as the boat zoomed unto the horizon.

After that she remembered her fear, her crying and finally her hope, when she came upon the women that she would later despise with her whole being. She remembered the kindly words that were spoken to her as she was brought onto the deck of the ship, the sweet voice that the cunning sea wench had employed when she pulled her snug into a torn blanket, before the dull thud on her neck that would act as the opening act of her long years into slavery.

Sonya's face still appeared in her mind as she thought of the one that had caused her so much grief, glowering down at her from on high. Above her hate for the mere concept of 'piracy' however, was her hate for the sea. Her hate for the fickle and cruel force that had dragged her away from home back then, lowering her into a mere starving child and delivering her onto those she would never forget.

Now there came another crew, ruled over by a male tyrant instead of a female tyrant this time. One who cruelly killed, who supported the conception of slavery and who was as vile as to brainwash young and otherwise innocent children into becoming a ruthless killer at a young age.

The only reason she bore with the foolhardy bunch was because of how close they were to home, then when they reached, she would slit their throats and sell their heads to the highest bidder.

Even the boy would go through the same thing, regardless of his reasons he had chosen to become one of the members of this toxic group so he could not be any better. It would be better to finish him off, the most she could do was make it swift and painless she vowed as she hardened her resolve. Pirates could not be trusted, and if she had to sacrifice her self-respect to extinguish even a part of this worldwide malediction then she would do so in a heartbeat. She would not allow for anyone else to go through what she went through, she promised herself as she resolutely marched through the sultry town weather.

A deep sigh seemed to echo throughout the night sky as the clouds began to cover the white moon. A series of lights gleamed from the houses that paved the road pitching yellow shadows onto the grey cobblestone.

In the end of the road, from the periphery of her vision she could make out the hanging symbol of a smithy. The hammer and anvil symbol looked especially glaring, this with an absence of light from the inside of the building caused Angella to stop in contemplation.

She silently made her way to the side of the building before stealthily pushing in the wooden window frame, the rotting window sill caved in easily as the window creaked inwards. A collection of different swords and other assortments hung on the wall.

She needed a weapon, and she knew with a definite where she could get one..