Red like roses fills my dreams and brings me to the place you rest…
The grave existed.
The wind was howling across the Frozen Cliffs, carrying with it a thick, flurrying snow and the faint scent of rose petals.
The scene was oddly surreal, as if painted on a canvas or conjured in a dreamland. All washed out and faded. Buried in snow. If the painter had decided to name this creation or the dreamer retained some form of coherency, they would probably call this Snowscape. Or Moonlight on the Cliff. Or even Flurries.
Something that would only make you think of the utter whiteness of the vision. The solitude. The peace. This was a good place for a warrior to be laid to rest. At the edge of a cliff, looking out over the restless world. Alone in solitude at last. Their sword resting by their side, no longer needed in their hand.
At twilight, in the white blanket of snowfall, the polished marble of the headstone was hard to make out. But it was there, the black rose upon it making sure it had enough contrast to make it all the more visible to those who stood before it. Even in the whiteout of the snowfall, the rose made the presence of the grave undeniable. And now, with the light of the full moon striking it, the stone seemed to glow. The carved rose upon it seemed to shift and shimmer, as translucent and shifting as smoke. Waving upon the soul it guarded. About to disappear from this world.
It was a grave.
And that was the one thing I could not accept.
My hood flapped around me, a spot of red in the canvas, ruining the Snowscape.
Blood on the Snow.
All around the cliff, the cold, lonely air danced with rose petals.
Mirror…tell me something.
Tell me who's the loneliest of all?
I step into the spotlight. Into the glare of a million gazes.
Head up, shoulders back, hands folded neatly.
Who's Daddy's perfect princess?
I am Daddy. I'm your princess. I'm perfect. I promise.
A princess knows when to speak.
The lights go down and the room quiets. The music begins, softly counting out a beat. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Always be the good girl. The reflection can be seen by all.
I began to sing, as we had agreed. I sang of reflections and expectations and a life I had always lived.
No child should have to be alone in huge empty rooms. Left in the dark. No child should have to spend every moment they're in public with a false face on. It drains away your emotions. So slowly, you don't even realize they've left you. No child should stare alone at the crumbling moon among cold pillars and arches, contemplating death.
Why are you so angry, Daddy?
The moonlight always made me feel stronger. Angrier. Like I was being torn apart, piece by piece just as the moon was. I longed for the cold steel in my grip. The blade that was the extension of my soul. Killing was the only thing that made me feel real. That made me feel alive. Was that wrong? Maybe. I was born to be a Huntress. Instead I was an Heiress.
A warrior knows when to strike, how to read their opponent, to use every skill to their advantage and the best of their ability. A warrior feels no shame.
Daddy, why isn't that enough?
I raised my arms as my song reached a crescendo. I wasn't supposed to move.
Just stand tall and still, like a statue. And sing. Be perfect.
I want to know why I am alone. I want to know why.
I want someone to know me. The real me. I want the reflection to crack. I don't want to be lonely anymore.
Slowly, the distant sound of applause reached my ears. I opened my eyes.
I had forgotten I had an audience.
The song had gotten away from me. For a moment, my true self had shone through, glaring as obviously as the scar above my left eye.
Head up, shoulders back, deep breath. Smile.
I'm back daddy. Did you miss your princess?
From shadows, we'll reclaim our destiny
Set our future free.
And we'll rise.
The train carried me away from Adam. Away from a home that had slowly been torn apart at the seams. A home stitched back together into a hell. A hell wearing a mask called home. A mask I could no longer pretend to love.
Today was my last day. I had no regrets.
Well, maybe one. Adam hadn't deserved that kind of abandonment. But I couldn't possibly take him with me. Not where I was going.
The gentle rocking of the car along the tracks lulled me into reminiscing. When had it all become too much to bear? When had the cause I'd fought for all my life suddenly become the biggest regret of my life? When had my friends become unrecognizable? When had I started wearing the bow in my hair?
It was impossible to tell anymore. These things were lost as the present clattered on endlessly into the future.
Just as I was now. On this train car.
Running away. Leaving behind the past for a future. Any kind of future. Anything other than this.
I had to claim a real life for myself. No more of these shadow games and bloody missions. I needed something new. Something I could be proud of. Something that would matter instead of just cause endless pain.
The car rolled to a stop and I woke from my thoughts. I left the past behind.
It was time.
Come at me.
And you'll see.
I'm more than
meets the eye…
How'd I end up here? It was all just a little fun…and it's a long story.
I've always been like fire: hot and hard to handle. Plus, I make fights more interesting. When I get angry…well, you'd best hope you weren't the one who made me angry.
I fully expected to have to fight my way out of the club. It was a predetermined fact given who I had gone there to see. And in the end, it had been little more than a training exercise. Junior had no information. Just a bad attitude and a club full of murderous lackeys.
So I was no closer to finding her. Figures. Then again, I'd expected this wouldn't be easy when I took up the task.
I just hadn't anticipated this.
"Yang? Is that you?"
"Oh…" I blinked, the heat of battle draining from my eyes. "hey sis!"
"What are you doing here?" My baby sister asked, delighted to see me.
I sighed, looking around at the destroyed club, Junior moaning on the pavement, my sister's hood flapping in the wind.
"…it's a long story."