|I'm Damaged, as I'm Sure You know, Part three
For months to follow, she tried to bounce back. Sabra steeled herself against her emotions and put up an emotional wall. She inadvertently began to pull away from her packmates. She distanced herself as a defense mechanism, refusing to get too close to anyone again. As she did this, she realized how she was failing in her position by this, and finally she went to the Ductus and requested to be relieved of her place as Priestess. He reluctantly agreed and her position was filled by another young Lasombra.
The years passed and she kept to herself still. Not a night passed that she didn't think of Kian, either in anger or in heart wrenching despair. She served her pack as needed, going into battle again sometimes, an occasional assassin when she had to be. Sometimes, when no one was around, she went to the tree in the courtyard, sitting beneath it for hours in her own personal Hell. The Ductus noticed the change in her and finally came to see her again early one April night. He informed her of a special assignment. She was to go to America and help with the battles being fought across the sea. With her usual obedience, she packed her things and headed for England where the Sabbat ship was set to sail. As she traveled through Ireland, she passed what was once her old village. The village was gone, now only a field where her home once was, but surprisingly, she felt no sadness, she felt nothing really at all. [ Continue ]
written by Lisa Roberts