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14 YEARS BACK

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❝ Jyn knew she was safe, as long as her mother held her hand. ❞

JYN WAS SITTING on a stool too high for her. She had spent the day convincing her mother to let her eat at the adult table. The winter solstice was an important celebration in the village of Alvir: and this year, Jyn had passed the ten-year mark. It was out of the question for her to spend the evening in the company of the little ones, while at the adults' table, in the big party tent, she could listen to a thousand exotic stories.

Old Kal, who had just settled in the village, was an inexhaustible source. Aedirn, Cintra, Kaedwen... he seemed to have traveled everywhere. Jyn swung her legs to the rhythm of the lute. She had eaten too much, and her father had allowed her to drink a little alcohol, so she struggled to keep her eyes open.

"We wanna play outside, do you want to come?" asked the youngest of her brothers.

Little Jyn shook her head, without losing a shred of Kal's story. He recounted with passion the exploits of the Lioness of Cintra.

Her mother noticed the exchange between her children and casted a concerned look at her daughter. Old Kal's story was far too graphic to her liking: it was definitely not appropriate for the ears of a ten-year-old girl. However, Jyn's eyes sparkled. The woman sighed tenderly and turned her attention back to her husband.

Suddenly, the girl's legs stopped swinging.

In front of her, a section of the tent had moved, as if struck by something.

"And it was there that the queen drew her sword, covered with blood from head to foot, and..."

But little Jyn was no longer listening to the captivating story. Her attention was fixed on the canvas of the tent, which was beginning to catch fire. Soon, others realized it too: the discussions ceased. The glasses no longer clashed in a joyous hubbub. For a few seconds, it was as if a higher force had put the evening on pause.

The little girl did not panic. All that came to her mind was her brothers and sisters: how did they set the tent on fire? Now she regretted not having gone to play with them. She was never there when the fun happened.

And then, all at once, everything began to move again. The adults rose up precipitously, and plates broke on the ground. Arms lifted her from her stool. Jyn looked up: the horror mixed with the fear she saw in her father's eyes was an image she would never forget. He laid her on the ground.

"Take Mom's hand, Jyn."

Her father's calm tone clashed with the chaos that was raging all around her. Her mother pulled her out of the tent. No matter how tight her grip was on Jyn's small hand, the girl still felt the tremors of fear. Her mother was scared.

Outside, everything was red.

The houses were burning. The fire, burning, the only light in the night, devoured the whole village. Her mother looked for her other children ─ but a flaming arrow flew into a wooden wall less than a metre from them. The reddish flames reflected in Jyn's eyes. It was at this moment that she came out of her torpor, and her blood froze in her veins. She looked at the village: a man fell to the ground, inert, and his attacker was looking for a new target.

This was nothing like old Kal's exciting stories. The fighters were not surrounded by a luminous halo, like the heroes that the girl had imagined in her head. She did not hear the sound of the swords clashing ─ only screams. Screams that penetrated her head like shock waves. There was no heroic combat. Only men, women, children, unarmed, falling to the ground.

And blood. Black blood, darkened by the night. 

It was a slaughter.

"Elias!" shouted her mother.

Elias. The oldest of her brothers. He was standing still in front of a man's corpse with a dagger in his hand. His eyes were locked on his victim.

"Elias!" repeated her mother. "Behind you!"

Her voice was full of despair. But she was still holding Jyn's hand: the girl knew then that she was safe, as long as her mother was holding her hand.

Suddenly, her mother drew the little girl against her body and covered her eyes. Sobs lifted her chest. Jyn tried to escape, frightened by her obstructed vision.

"Mama," she murmured.

The women grabbed her chin and planted her eyes full of tears in her own. The order she gave her echoed in the little girl's ears:

"Run as fast as you can. Do not turn around."

She let go of her hand and she pushed her towards the forest. Jyn obeyed, too frightened to think, and she ran about ten meters without encountering any obstacles. But a female cry echoed behind her. Jyn turned around. 

The flames reflected for a moment on the polished steel of a sword ─ her mother's body fell backwards, in a thud.

Jyn screamed.

The murderer had already spotted her anyway: her mother's sacrifice had only slowed the inevitable. When he rushed towards her, Jyn was silent. Her eyes widened with terror. He was still far away: she could outrun him. After all, she was the fastest kid in the village.

Deep in her heart, the girl wanted to run towards her mother, but the threat of the man approaching her awakened her instincts, and she ran in the opposite direction. She ran with all her might. Her legs were burning and the path was strewn with obstacles, but little Jyn knew the village like the back of her hand. She didn't fall once.

It was not enough.

Powerful arms caught her, just like her father had done a little earlier. But this time, the man violently threw the struggling child against the ground. Jyn screamed and turned around, her back on the grass.

The man drew his sword. The shining steel was now barely visible under the layer of blood. Jyn tried to get up on her elbows, but the blade struck. Her throat was clearly cut: the pain barely had time to arise, as her vision blurred.

The girl's muscles relaxed. She rested inertly on the ground ─ the murderer was already gone.