Begginings, Juniper Lee [historical books to read .txt] 📗

Blurb: In a society where peace and happiness rule, scars are a symbol of honor and rank, only given to those who have rendered service to the Council.
Amora is barely 16, yet she is the Council's chief operative, and one of the youngest and most honored agents in the whole country. Being one of the few orphans raised by the Council members, she's never doubted their motives, until she meets Lucian.
Now, trying to separate the lies from the truth, she must also face many new emotions, suppressed memories, and figure out where her loyalties lie.

Amora stood before the large mirror examining her reflection while she waited. Behind her were the blood red curtains which dominated very room in The Center. The color brought out the green in her eyes and illuminated her blond locks, while also reminding her of why she was there.
It was the Day of Reflection. Everyone was already assembled in The Center's main plaza wearing their best clothes for the event. Amora's dress was not her choice, though, because not there to listen to the country's history as everyone else was.
Her heart began to beat faster in anticipation, but she quickly composed herself. Yes, she was young, but she was also the Council's chief operative. From childhood she had been trained to control her mind, body and emotions, and was thus more mature than most 16 year-olds. There were no threats today. Thus, there was nothing for her to fear.
A click on the speakers above her head made her tune into the words, "It's time".
She glanced into the mirror one last time and strode out the door. She walked up the giant red velvet steps perfectly timing her speed so that all eyes would be on her when she emerged.
She paused at the top of the platform, allowing the crowd to feast their eyes on her. They simultaneously gasped, their glued to her as she began to descend the even larger staircase that led to to the main walk.
Of course, she was beautiful in her pitch black evening gown, but that was not the reason for the assembly's awe and bewilderment. From her elbow to her wrist were large scarred lines: 6 on her left and 5 on her right. Never before had the audience beheld someone so young who was so honored.
Amora kept her eyes trained ahead of her and did not change her expression. Yet, inside her mind she allowed herself to smile and bathe in the glory. It was finally her time to shine. After 16 years of service to the Council and her country, she would finally be acknowledged and respected. And she would finally recieve her 12th scar.
The Council sat in a row of 10 chairs facing the audience. As Amora approached them she knelt and bowed her head in respect.
"Not only is today a day to remember our past, but also a day to embrace our future," one of the members of the Council spoke into the microphone. Amora was glad that the history lesson was already over. She had listened to it for 15 years and was not planning to do so ever again.
Another member of the Council walked up to her while the first was speaking. Her hood covered her eyes, yet Amora recognized her easily by the dark blue dress that peeked out from beneath the cloak. The woman raised Amora from her crouched position and turned her around to face the audience.
"Many great services have been done by the young woman before you," the first Council member continued. "She has devoted her life to serving you, the people of this country, by ridding you of all threats to your peace and happiness. Throughout her career, she has earned each of her scars by an act of unselfish heroism.
There was a dramatic pause where a third Council member drew out a long silver knife and walked to Amora's other side.
"Today, Amora Danica Karr will recieve her 12th and final scar."
Without hesitation, Amora held her right arm out to the third Council member. The crowd drew in a breath as he slowly carved a line into her skin. She didn't even flinch.

___________________________________

The streets were crowded and bustling as everyone filed out of the plaza. Amora had no trouble walking through the crowd, though, because they parted to create a path for her. At first, she felt truly gratified, thinking that they cleared path for her out of respect. Only their further actions allowed doubts to creep into her mind.
When she glanced sideways towards the crowd, they seemed to shrink back farther into themselves. Some held looks of terror in their eyes, while others glared at her with all their might, though their trembling betrayed their true fear.
She hurried on. As she rounded a corner, she noticed a mother pull her child to her sharply. Amora kept her eyes forward, not wavering in stance or determination.
"Mama, is that the killer girl?" she her the child whisper, when she had gotten farther down the alley.
'Killer?'

Amora wondered to herself. 'Why would they call me a killer?'

After rounding a final corner and heading down a dark alley, Amora arrived at her home. She pushed the old looking screen open and shut it behind her. Of course, this was not her real home; it was only the entrance.
Inside the small, square space, there was just enough room to stand. She voiced her name aloud to activate the portal. The sound of air rushing past her ears was the only assurance she had that she had dropped at least a full story below ground. She followed the metallic hallway for a short distance and when she hit a dead end, she pressed her hand against the wall , causing it to disappear. Inside the next passageway, she stepped onto a hover board, which was kept aloft by magnets.
She leaned forward on the board, accelerating to top speed, yet still navigating the halls with ease. Another dead end greeted her; this time it was a real wall. She leaped off the board with perfect timing, landing on the platform as her board whizzed backwards to its original spot. The next hall she walked down was very short, ending in another wall which quickly dissolved at her touch.
Inside this room, she had spent a great deal of time. Although she did not remember her childhood, she knew that in the past few years the Council had given her all of her important assignments in this room. Now, though, was not time for a new assignment. Now was her time to listen to the Council, while they discussed her future.
She advanced to the small platform in the center of the room. Above her in 10 circularly seated chairs the Council sat, staring at her intently. Their familiar faces held no pity, no happiness, no praise, and no hatred. Instead, their hooded eyes held a permanent look of haughty determination. As always, she adopted the same look, awaiting their words.
"Amora, you know what we have been deliberating, I am sure." One council member said.
"Yes," she simply responded.
"Then you understand the gravity of our decision?"
"Of course. I await your command."
There was a puase. Amora made eye contact with the Council member who sat directly in front of her. She turned slowly in a circle doing the same with each other member. Finally, one member rose from her seat.
She approached Amora, pulled a black cloak from underneath her red one, and placed it on Amora's shoulders. Amora allowed a look of surprise to enter her face. She ran her finger along the edge of the soft fabric and pulled the hood over her eyes.
In her ear, the Council woman whispered "You are ready."
"I am? Are you sure?"
"Do you doubt our decision?" A male Council member boomed from above.
"No. I do not doubt you who are far wiser than me. It is just that I fell my young age prevents me from running a country on my own." Amora was also worried about the people's reaction. They had not been so accepting of her earlier. Yet, she would never reveal her weakness of wanting to please the people to the Council.
"You will never be alone. We will guide you in everything. It is only when we pass on that you will gain complete control." Yet another Council member assured her. With all of them so far above her, she could not discern exactly which member was which, but it did not matter exactly who spoke, because the Council always acted as of one mind.
Nothing else was said to Amora, other than a final dismissal. Before exiting, she bowed and thanked them sincerely. Then, she turned down a long hall and headed toward her room.

___________________________________

Like a curse or a deadly disease, it never left her. Everyday, it never failed. There was no escaping it because, inevitably, she had no control over it.

Late at night, when she came home, she would lock herself in the bathroom. She knew the water would trigger it, like water always did. She didn't glance in the mirror as she stepped out of her sweaty clothes.  Carefully, she piled the clothes on the counter, even though she knew it was pointless. 

As usual, she took a single quick look in the mirror before shutting the shower curtain. Her routine was like a ritual which began with that simple look.  She never stared too long though. She had leaned lng ago not to become too attatched to her reflection.

Her hands moved to the faucets, turning on the war, paunding stream of water. Standing beneath the water with eyes closed, she waited for it to begin. Sometimes she was strong enough to keep her eyes shut when it happened. She knew it was not one of those days, but she tried.

She felt the change happening after only seconds. A soft tingle started to prickle through her nerves. Soon, it had overtaken her body. She could no longer manage to keep her eyes closed.

 As her eyelids pulled themselves open, she turned the temperatureof the water up in anticipation.The hot water counteracted the burning feeling beneath her skin, making the whole process more bearable. Still, her whole body ached and her mind blurred. 

She held her hands in front of her, out of the reach of the water. She knew it would only be a matter of seconds. The pain was already lowering, her mind clearing.

No matter how many times she saw it, it still amazed her. The