This is a drabble of my interpretation of Jasper's encounter with Maria and his transformation. Enjoy.
From the second I dismounted I knew that I shouldn't have. I knew that these women were not in need of my aid. I knew beyond reasonable doubt that this encounter would change everything. As the three angels spoke, their melodic voices wrapping around me, invading the surrounding air, I knew I should fear them.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but still I did not run. I would not fear women; I had come to offer them assistance. As they spoke of violence and death it became obvious that they were not in need of anything I could offer.
I should have bowed my head and retreated, but I remained frozen in place. They debated amongst themselves slightly, quietly. They were not worried about me hearing them though; I could not decipher the meaning behind their words anyway.
They seemed to have made a decision as two of them fled in the opposite direction to the way in which I'd came. They moved so swiftly, so silently, as if their feet didn't touch the ground at all. I couldn't help but marvel at it, and contemplate the benefits it would give in battle.
My gaze met that of the remaining woman, perhaps the smallest, but yet she was the most intimidating. It pained me to admit I was intimidated by her, but I knew she was unlike any other woman I'd encountered. She seemed too serene, too collected. It was odd how she remained perfectly calm, regardless of the fact her and two other women were out on a dirt trail alone in the middle of a war zone. The night didn't bother her; it was as if her very being welcomed the darkness.
She lifted her chin slightly, her eyes never leaving mine. The intensity in her gaze was at odds with the softness in her expression and contrasted still with the confident way in which she moved, and held herself.
Maria, that's what her name had been.
She took a deliberate, measured step towards me and against my better judgement I did not move away. Her hands rose to cradle my face and she inclined her head. My first thought was that she wished to kiss me. I held my ground as she inched closer still and before I could protest or question I was overcome with an agonising pain.
My eyes, now wide with fear glanced down to where her face was buried in the crook of my neck. My hands trembled helplessly as I silently prayed the pain would end.
I hung onto conscious thought, I grasped at my sense of self. And I swear I clung to my very lifeline, as if it were in my sight.
But it was futile, and I was soon consumed by fire.