Xirysa Says: REWRITE REWRITE REWRITE. XD So yeah. This chapter (the original) is the only one that's gonna stay the same in this 'fic this time around. With some changes, of course. Therefore... Yeah. Um, what was a I saying again? Oh, right. I stand by what I said earlier, however: sequels tend to suck. I hope it isn't the case with this, however. And I apologize to everyone who reviewed, but... Could you please review again? I would really appreciate it. And as to why I'm starting over on this... Well, I had a flash of inspiration in which all the virtues were made angsty! And I love angst. Ergo, it seemed like a good idea. So, enough babbling. ONWARDS.
Seraphic Wings
The First Wing: Chastity
Starring: Vaida
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chas·ti·ty (chās'tĭ-tē): the condition or quality of being pure or chaste
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It was a fact of life. She had seen enough with her own eyes to know that it was true. Be strong or be conquered. Fight to survive, otherwise you were as good as dead.
"Stay still, you damn bitch!" She feels something smash into her face, tastes the warm blood that trickles from a gash by her left eye.
And she had that fighting spirit—she couldn't become what everyone expected her to be.
She didn't care that she had run away from home, away from a forced marriage that would have kept her family out of poverty. In the small village she was born in, in the foothills of the Bern mountains, you were expected to marry young, expected to be with child before your twentieth birthday, be a dutiful mother and a quiet wife, listen to your husband without a second though… She could never have that kind of life. When you were young, your life would be dictated by your parents. When you grew older, your life was dictated by your husband's family. You had no life of your own. You were a mindless little drone.
She hears a wyvern shriek with rage and feels her heart sink when she sees Umbriel lying bloody and broken on the hard earth.
It had been the autumn of her thirteenth year when she joined the Bernese wyevrn riders, throwing herself into her training with a zeal that bordered on obsession. Two years later, she was made an esquire. When she was sixteen, she was made an official knight. Such an accomplishment was unheard of, especially for a woman. Though there were many other girls training to become wyvern knights, she was undoubtably the most skilled of the lot.
Forced to the ground, clawing, ripping, tearing… Searing pain on her left thigh, slashing through the fabric and flesh. It's five against one, she can't win. Their intent is obvious.
The youngest woman knighted in the history of Bern... She and Umbriel were famous, respected and held in awe by the men and women who served Bern alongside them. They were what everyone wished to become. She was proud. She was strong. She couldn't show any weakness—after all, she was the Flying Fang!
Her breastplate is removed, hands are placed where hands shouldn't be, and she hopes with all her heart that Umbriel is safe.
She was pure—no, that word was too soft for her. She was untouchable. Yes, untouchable. She was always out of reach, always what everyone aspired to be.
She is pushed onto her stomach and kicks out weakly in an attempt to free herself. It doesn't work.
The knights under her feared and respected her. Her temper was unpredictable—calm and serene one moment, a tempest of blood red and metal the next. She was what everyone wanted to be, what everyone wished to become.
Even though they see the scars. To them, it was simply a sign of her strength and valor. None knew the true meaning of the scars.
They laugh and she feels cold, oh so cold. She knows what is going to happen, and she cries for the first time she can remember.
Many offered to heal her, to remove the blemishes that disfigured her once beautiful face. She had refused them all. Even though her strength failed her once, she overcame it and pulled through. Like a sword in the forge, she had been beaten and hit and pounded into something stronger.
One man leans over her face and leers at her, and she recognizes him—they had trained together. "Look at her, Bern's Flying Fang! See how weak you've become?"
Sometimes, though, there were times where heart ached at the memory of the one time she had been weak, of the time her strength had betrayed her. In the quiet of night, when on sentry duty, when it was only her and Umbriel and the infinite darkness around them, she would run her finger down her face, tracing the pattern of knotted tissue, remembering the pain and vulnerability she felt that night so long ago.
The pain comes then. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. There's blood in her mouth, on her arms and legs, is it her blood, it's so bright…
Despite that, and even now, years after the war, even after everything that had happened and had been done to her, she was still strong. She kept the scars to remind her of that fact. Because she is still untouchable. She is still pure.
They leave her body, battered and bloody, on the hard earth. When she is sure they have left, she crawls to Umbriel and strokes the unconcious wyvern's jaw with one bloody hand.
After all, she couldn't have those bloody little moppets twittering on about her, could she?
"We made it, Umbriel..."
Xirysa Says: Did I say that sequels suck? Check. Basically, the scenario was this (and I'll admit I took artistic license as the author): even though she got raped, Vaida's epic enough to remain strong and pure of heart. Because chastity doesn't only mean you're a virgin, right? You can be pure in other ways as well. And… Well, that's what I think of Vaida. Same drill as last time, guys. You feedback and critique this and offer your opinions on the next chapters. :D And I'll give an internet cookie to whoever figures out the origin of the title.