Miria
Rank 47 – although I did not show it on my face, I was astounded. How can this be? She, who scarcely a few weeks ago, dispatched four mid-tier youma with consummate ease was the lowest amongst us? I could not believe it. Something was definitely wrong here but at the time, I could not fathom what that could be. How could that proud poise and swaggering confidence and her overwhelmingly powerful aura I felt that day belong to one who occupied the lowly rank of 47?
I felt my initial misgivings mirroring that of Helen, who laughed in mocking disbelief at hearing Claire's rank. Indeed, Rank 47 is given to the weakest amongst the active warriors of the Organization, but despite that knowledge, I know there's no way that my eyes - my senses - could been fooled that day.
To keep Helen from antagonizing her again, I gave her until sunset to find suitable lodging for the human boy with her. As she walked away from us, my eyes unwittingly drifted to the small of her back. Whoever she truly was and whatever she may be hiding, my curiosity demanded that I find it out, and I am very good at finding secrets.
As we made our way out of the town that rainy evening and began our trek to our target's location, of course Helen began her hazing of Claire yet again. Even stoic Deneve had some words to say about her lack of both strength and experience needed for such a hunt as this, and though I ignored them the best I could, I felt slightly irritated at the fact that we would bicker so easily about anything whenever we grouped together. With such thoughts running through my head, I heard Claire grab for her sword yet again, and I managed to stifle a sigh. The young boy she had brought with her seemed to be the hot topic of the Awakened Being hunt; every hunt has one and it is usually at the expense of the lowest ranked.
As Helen and Deneve made vocal their complaints about her accompanying us once again, I found myself not listening to them at all, rather I was drawn to her diminutive figure between them. My God, her eyes… They couldn't see them but I could. Deep down, I felt myself shiver at the barely suppressed rage in those bright silver orbs. For a moment, a tiny part of me wished for her to unleash all her anger upon the two. To be able to glimpse that enticing, overwhelming power in action with my own eyes. Instead, I berated them to let the matter of her joining us rest. Even as I turned around to the trail once more, I found that I myself could not wait any longer. A strong desire to take the full measure of this enigma in my own way rose up within me. I had to test her - I had to know.
While Helen went to get food and Deneve rested inside the cave I found, I approached her, both our swords in my hands and threw her hers. I had to know once and for all and this was the perfect opportunity. We stood facing each other, the rain quickly soaking our bodies, but I paid it no mind. Instead, I focused myself for the task at hand of testing her.
While the spar did provide me with her skill level, it did nothing to appease my initial curiosity about her. I felt nothing of that powerful aura. No great technique came into play against me. No superb swordsmanship turned my blade. Even as we moved in a loud metallic dance, she behaved…strangely, as if she was trying to use a different style from what was taught us. Her silver eyes rarely left my own, staring at me with such intense concentration despite her clumsy attempts to keep up with my agile movements. I parried her sword out and disarmed her with a quick twist of my blade against hers, ending the match. My breaths were even and slow, this was hardly enough to get me to breath hard, while hers were ragged and worn, her chest heaving from the exertion of our small fight. I could not help the childish sensation of feeling...cheated. How could she let my expectations of her be for naught? How could she let me down like this? I walked past her coolly, burying my disappointment deep behind my usual facade of detachment.
I left her where she had fallen and walked back into the cave. My mind was split on the decision to the question proposed by the other two yet again. It seems that they will never let a moment go by without reminding me that she was Rank 47, and that her dismal performance just now fit that ranking. I should have sent her away, by all rights I should have, but I didn't. Even though the right thing to do would be to send her away, I refused to do so, much to Helen's continued chagrin. I knew that I was pushing my luck but maybe that power would come into play against the Awakened One. It was quite a gamble, playing with the unknown is a risk I seldom take at all, but this one I felt I could work with. According to our information, if worse came to worse, my technique and current strength as the leader of this group should be more than enough to take out the Awakened One.
I look at them as they sleep. Deneve, her back against the rocky wall resting her sword along her shoulder…Helen sprawled out comfortably on the ground, hands behind her head. She even snores, the loudmouth. Figures she can't keep quiet even while sleeping. I glance back outside as the rain continues to beat mercilessly against the slender form still outside. Staring at Claire's soaked body, I begin to wonder as my eyes register her slight breathing. Could she be dreaming? What would she be dreaming about? I stop thinking along that line of thought. It brought up my own nightmares that I still have of my own encounter with a youma when I was a little girl and thoughts of the death of my best friend, Hilda. Dreams are for humans. We 'silver eyed witches' do not dream - we only relieve the nightmare of our continued existence.
With a light sigh, I rest my back against my sword, impaled in the ground as is customary and close my eyes. Even now, my mind goes back to our first meeting as she appeared to me – gratingly self confident, and yet I feel an odd tingle race up my spine with just the mere remembrance. I can't believe I am admitting this but maybe it is why I have been so preoccupied with her. I want to see it - that power…her power… I felt my lips relax into a small smile with my self-admission as I began to drift into slumber.
I want you to know who you really are, Rank 47. I feel as though won't rest until I do.
Author's Thoughts: Okay, 2nd official fanfic is completed! Tried to imitate Miria's voice for this one as closely as possible and I think it worked out satisfactory. Originally was suppose to be a one-shot but the potential was too much.