Alleluia, a four-day weekend! This occasion deserves celebration in the form of another chapter! But first, here's a little notice that's needed before this chapter starts.
NOTICE: All religious claims, opinions, and interpretations in this work are from a purely literary standpoint and should not be taken as factual. No religious discrimination or undermining is intended. The author deeply apologizes for any offense and wishes to extend a sincere respect for all religious or non-religious beliefs.
Yay, religious freedom! On that happy note, let's jump start the story!
London, England 1870
"Ahh! I can't breathe!" 9-year-old Lucie's screams were silenced into faint gurgles as they bubbled up to the surface amidst layers of boiling water scalding her already raw skin, as she lay strapped down and completely submerged in a tub filled with water exceeding a temperature of 80 degrees Fahrenheit. The concept was to dunk patients in hot or cold water in the hopes of shocking their minds into a normal state, but clearly, that wasn't the case. Lucie's body jerked around violently as her body struggled desperately for oxygen. Her wrists strained against the thick leather straps tying her down while she tried to ignore the ever more insistent burning of her lungs. The girl had undergone this procedure hundreds of times and always was released before death without fail. Still, there was always this persistent fear eating away at the back of her mind, a fear that dominated her every time she was called in for 'treatment,' that this would be the one time when it went wrong, that the moldy gray asylum walls and the doctors seen through a thin, shimmering veil of water would be the last thing she ever saw.
Just when Lucie felt her brain begin to slip into unconsciousness, she felt the sudden pull of the ropes that dragged her from the watery depths. For a few minutes, all Lucie could do was heave lungful after lungful of precious air while simultaneously expelling water with violent coughs. Tears stung in her eyes as she felt the dank air of the asylum sting her raw, burnt skin. Lucie shivered horribly as the calculating eyes of the medical professionals bore into the pores of her skin.
"Please! You have to believe me! She's real!" Lucie pleaded to the doctors as the strapped her down to the gurney and prepared for another round. "I've seen her! She's spoken to me! I'm not crazy! Please don't hurt me!"
But as usual, it did no good. All Lucie could do was close her eyes in trepidation for the inevitable pain that would soon follow.
"Please!" Lucie cried as she sensed her body being lowered into the water. "Can one of you please tell me what Lexiconian means? That's why I was taken here. That's the kind of illness I have. Maybe if one of you can cure me of it, then maybe Mr. Carton will come back for me. Maybe Mommy will love me again! Please, I need to know!"
But no one paid attention. As the first splash of water bit at her flesh, all Lucie could do was try – and fail – to suppress a scream.
"I-it was horrible," Lucie, now wearing a wafer-thin grey cotton dress, whimpered as she lay curled up on her threadbare bed. The 9-year-old took a series of deep, steading breaths as she tried enunciate through her great, heaving sobs, while she looked up at the angel with tear-stained streaks. "I was dunked nine times! And the worst part is that none of them even believed me!"
"There, there," cooed Mulan, appearing to the girl as a shimmering apparition, "There's no need to cry, Lucie. It's all over now." Arms glowing with a radiant, ethereal light, Mulan wrapped her phantom arms around the weeping child. They passed right through, as if a ghost, however, but the same aura of comfort was there.
Feeling considerably better, Lucie rubbed her eyes dry and sat up straighter to view the angelic figure before her. "Mulan," Lucie began, her voice quivering, "Why can't you come with me to my treatments? Maybe… maybe if the doctors see you… they won't think I'm crazy anymore. Maybe they'll let me go."
"I've told you, Lucie," Mulan replied gently, adopting a motherly tone, "I could wave my hands in front of them and make silly faces all I want, but they won't be able to see me, just because they don't believe I exist. It takes special girls like you to be gifted enough to see what the rest of the world can't understand."
"Does that mean I really am crazy?" asked Lucie forlornly.
"No, of course not, sweetie" said Mulan. "If anything, it means you're better than them all. You're a very special girl, my little Lucie. It's just that… some people can't accept that just yet. They need time, but eventually, they'll all come around." In a more serious tone, she added, "That's why I asked you not to mention me."
"I'm sorry, Mulan. I know that's not what you wanted. It's just that I want them to believe me so badly, but it's so hard to carry on like this. Sometimes I think I'm really insane."
A crease of worry flashed across the angel's typically serene face. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I know I'm not the regular type of insane," Lucie explained candidly. "I've seen that type of insane. They're the ones who hide in dark corners and mutter to things that don't exist. But I think I'm the other kind of insane. I'm the kind that thinks too much about things I probably shouldn't. Strange things. Evil things. Bad things. I think and think until I finally understand things, but that just makes me crazier. I question, too. I question why I try so hard, and what I'm looking for. I wonder if there's even a point to it all. And that makes me sad."
"W-well," stuttered Mulan, unnerved by Lucie's thoughts, "let's not think of sad things, okay? Let's think about happy things."
A content sigh passed through Lucie's smiling lips as closing her eyes, she leaned closer to Mulan. "Okay," Lucie said happily, her previous despair gone for the moment. After a brief pause, Lucie said, "Tell me what Heaven's like, Mulan."
"Well-" she began.
"And please don't sugarcoat it," requested Lucie as she interrupted the angel. "I'm not a little girl anymore. I want to know the truth."
Mulan closed her eyes in pain from hearing that statement, for she knew with a bitter pang that it was all too true. The Lucie she had first encountered during her brief relapses into other dimensions was far different from the Lucie that sat before her. This Lucie was much more reserved than her former self, as, regrettably, extensive pain and trauma often does to a child. Of course, she was still a child, but only in appearance. Deep inside, Mulan knew there resided the soul of a woman centuries old, hardened by pain and sorrow and suffering. How the girl managed to even smile was a wondrous mystery to her, yet one of the many characteristics that drew Mulan to Lucie and caused her to act like a second guardian. Every day, Mulan would cross time zones and dimensions, half of the day being the Keeper of the Element of Love, whose current bearer was an American girl named Charlotte Winters, and the other half taking on the role of a comforter to Lucia Manette, a troubled girl trying to find her way in a lost and hurting world.
"Of course, Lucie," Mulan finally replied. "Oh, how can I describe it to you? Heaven is a place filled with light, but not the kind that irritates and blinds. No, it's a soft, gentle light that caresses you with its honey kisses. It is boundless, but not in the way an empty room is. It hums with the energy of a billion souls in perfect harmony, like hitting one perfect chord on a violin. There, you can feel all around you the souls of everyone you've ever loved, and yet you still feel a special connection with everyone who ever lived, who is living, and who has yet to live. You finally understand your place in the world, and that makes you very happy.
"Still, it isn't all like that. That's just how the humans feel. They all become very, very naïve, like little children. I suppose that makes them happy, but I don't think that's right. It's like something's been taken away from them, something that can't be replaced and what makes them who they are. If you take away the pain, then in a way, it detracts from what made them human. Of course, Heaven is perfect, but maybe… maybe that's not entirely a good thing. Still, I think you'd be happy there."
For a while, Lucie sat in thought before asking, "If everyone in Heaven is so happy, why aren't you there?"
"Because I want to be with you, of course," Mulan half-lied, although her voice was sincere in her affection. "You make me very happy, Lucie, happier than I could ever be there."
There was another pause, and then Lucie asked, "Do people get hurt there? Do people get tortured or dunked in hot water like here? Do they feel pain?" At the mention of pain, Lucie rubbed her wrist, scarred with several knife slashes from bloodletting, yet another unhealthy asylum practice in attempts to cure the insane.
"No, there's nothing like that. No one would ever think of hurting you there."
Another pause. "I want to go to Heaven," Lucie decided resolutely. "Can you take me there, Mulan?"
"I… I'm afraid I can't come with you," Mulan said regrettably. "I still have things to do here on Earth."
"Like a job?" Lucie asked.
Mulan laughed in relief; it was such a child-like analogy. "Yes, it's a lot like that," Mulan said lightly, smiling down upon the young girl. "But of course, I always take a little time off to sneak away and see you."
"Then I don't want to go to Heaven," Lucie said bluntly. "If you're not going there, then I don't want to go either. I want to stay with you."
Mulan's eyes widened at this statement. She knew Lucie had found solace in her, but never would she have thought that Lucie, despite probably not knowing the extent of her decision, cared that much about her. Mulan smiled serenely, her heart touched.
"Tell you what," Mulan said lovingly, "When I'm done with my job, you and I can go visit Heaven together, okay, sweetie?"
"Okay," agreed Lucie, pleased by the proposition. "We can fly on your clockwork wings. Wait, do all angels have clockwork wings? In all the pictures, they have feather wings."
"No, mine are unique," said Mulan cheerfully, flashing Lucie a motherly smile. "I'm special, too, you know."
"Just one more question," Lucie said after another brief silence. "And maybe it's a silly one, but… if I go to Heaven, will I still be insane? It's just that if I wasn't crazy anymore like everyone says, then maybe Mr. Carton will come back for me. Maybe Mommy will come back too and love me again."
"But didn't you tell me your Mommy was taken away?" asked Mulan. "Maybe she can't come back."
"No, she said she would always find a way back to me," stated Lucie resolutely. "And Mommy always keeps her promises, but she hasn't come back yet. She probably doesn't love me anymore because I'm crazy. She doesn't want me anymore." Lucie had tried to keep a steady tone, but towards the end, her voice began to waver and then collapse into sobs.
Taking a more substantial form, Mulan took the weeping girl in her lap and cradled her in her arms as Lucie's tears splattered across her moonlight dress.
"Please, please don't cry, Lucie," said Mulan comfortingly. "I'm sure your Mommy still loves you." But this statement only succeeded in making Lucie's wails grow louder until the sounds spewing from her mouth were bordering on screams.
"I'm going to tell you a secret, Lucie," said Mulan, kneeling down on the floor so she was eye-level with the 9-year-old. Lucie's sobs subsided momentarily as her curiosity overpowered her grief. Taking Lucie's tiny, frail hands in hers, the angel said, "And it's a secret that no one else knows, a secret only meant for special girls like you.
"A long, long time ago, there was a time when angels and humans lived entirely apart. Angels regarded humans as inferior creatures, unworthy of the presence of God, and were perfectly content to keep the splendor of Heaven to themselves. Meanwhile, humans remained woefully ignorant of the angels' existence as the resided on Earth below.
"But humans were very fragile against the dangerous, untamed world they lived in, and without any protection, they were often the accidental cause of their own demise. And thus, the human population slowly dwindled as their rudimentary forms of society began to deteriorate from the extremely high death rates. All that humanity had worked to build was slowly coming undone.
"One day, a woman named Sarai prayed for God to send salvation to the collapsing human race. Sarai, who had a kind, compassionate heart, could not bear to see her people suffer, and so she promised that in exchange for protection, she would devote the rest of her life to spreading the Word of God to the all Gentiles of Judea.
"And so, God hear the woman's plea and sent a legion of angels to protect humanity and thus become the first Guardian Angels. At the head of the legion, he placed Daphne, the Angel of Compassion. It was Daphne who appeared to Sarai to convey the good news that her prayers had been answered.
"However, there was one problem. Nearly a decade had passed since Sarai's prayer, and during that time, she had conceived a child, a girl named Leah, whom Sarai loved with all her heart. Sarai could not bear to leave her daughter, but she knew she had to uphold her promise. However, Sarai knew she could not bring Leah into Judea; there, she would surely be brutally persecuted by the Gentiles, maybe even stoned to death. As long as she lived, she would never allow that fate to befall her daughter.
"And so, Sarai beseeched the angel Daphne to raise Leah in her stead until all of Judea had been converted to Judaism. Daphne, filled with compassion for the woman, consented and happily began to raise the child with love and tenderness.
"However, not all of the problems were resolved. In Heaven, the angels were in outrage, engaged in a bitter dispute over this disruption of their idealism of divinity. The hosts of angels then split into two societies: the Conclave, which believed that humans were disgusting, weak prototypes of angels and were forever unworthy of God's grace, and the Enclave, which, while still held some of the Conclave's viewpoints, believed there was something of value in humanity, something higher that angels simply could not hope to grasp.
"These two clashing ideologies thus clashed head-to-head, their conflict steadily rising in bitterness, with the Archangel Gabriel as the leader of the Conclave fighting brutally against his sister Daphne. Eventually, the Enclave's forces were overwhelmed, and so they were cast down from Heaven by their former brethren, resulting in what is now referred to as the Schism, the second largest angelic battle since the Great Fall at the beginning of Time.
"And so, bruised, beaten, and with aching heart, Daphne returned to Leah in fulfillment of her promise to Sarai. However, when she arrived, she had discovered that Sarai had at last returned from her preaching in Judea to reunite with her daughter Leah. And despite all the emotional pain she had endured, Daphne smiled as, heart swelling with joy, she looked down from afar, for she had finally completed her mission. Now, no matter what future trials awaited her, her heart could never be touched, for it resided there, rejoicing with a mother and daughter finally together as she moved onward to protect the world.
"But there were other angels, angels who did not fight on either side of the Schism. They possessed kind, compassionate hearts with a boundless love for humanity and were ready to follow in Daphne's footsteps. These too became Guardian Angels, and so they sent themselves throughout the earth to lovingly safeguard and spread light to a lost a hurting world.
"And that's why I'm here," Mulan concluded. "To watch over you until your mother returns. And I promise you, she will come back for you."
"But that story made no sense," commented Lucie, ignoring Mulan's placating reassurances. "The angels gave up everything just for humans."
"Well, don't you think it was worth it?" asked Mulan gently.
"No, of course not," Lucie scoffed. "Humans don't deserve that."
There was a slight pause before the girl asked, "Do evil people get angels, too?"
Choosing her words carefully, Mulan explained in a motherly tone, "People aren't separated into good or evil, Lucie. Angels don't like it when people make bad choices, but they still try to protect that part of them, no matter how small it is, that's good."
"But if people aren't good, then why are they hurting me?"
Mulan closed her eyes in sorrow. Lucie was now beginning to ask the hard questions, a sure sign she was growing up far too soon. What was even worse, however, was the fact that Mulan, even with her centuries of wisdom and experience, could not provide Lucie an answer to explain human cruelty.
"I… I know things seem hard now," Mulan barely choked out as she forced back tears, her voice coming out slightly strangled. "People will do crazy, horrible things, and not just here, but all over the world, regardless of who you are and what you've done. They'll say there's something wrong with you and that you'll never amount to anything. But you mustn't listen to them, because you and I know better. You have a special gift deep inside you, a gift that can't be taken away, a gift that will separate you from the rest of the world. I know it's hard, but when those around you deny it, you must always remember they're wrong. You aren't useless. You aren't evil. You aren't crazy. You're a special, wonderful little girl with a heart of gold and an angel watching over you. I could have chosen to guard any person in the world, and yet I chose you because I love you, Lucie, more than you will ever know. I know it can't take away the sadness or the pain, but I hope it will be a comfort to you. Just… just knowing you're loved, Lucie… it's a beautiful gift.
"You did nothing to deserve what's happened to you, Lucie. You're a very good girl, Lucie, it's just that sometimes bad things happen to good people. I know it's hard to accept now, but trust me when I say that there will come a day when you understand."
"Okay," said Lucie contently as she snuggled into bed. She contorted her body in a number of ways in an attempt to cover every part of her with the blanket until she resigned herself to letting her toes peek out the covers. "Mulan," she whispered sleepily, "Can you sing to me?"
The angel's smile lit up the room like a soothing ray of moonlight. "Of course," she obliged as the two began their nightly bedtime ritual. Taking the wooden comb from Lucie's night table, Mulan proceeded to gently brush each lock of Lucie's golden blonde hair. Lucie always liked to look pretty, for her appearance was one of the few things she could take pride in. As the mortal and divine listened to the lulling, steady beat of the brush strokes, Mulan began to sing this lullaby:
Angels watch over my baby,
Grant her a lifetime of your care
So that even when I can not be with her
I'll know you will always be there.
Angels watch over my baby,
Grant her a lifetime of your love
So that even when my eyes are closed
I'll know that you watch over from above.
Angels watch over my baby,
Bless every eyelash and curl.
For there is no one on earth any dearer
to me than my dear little girl.
Lucie sighed peacefully once the song was over. "Thank you," she whispered.
"It's no trouble," Mulan replied. "Now, it's time to go to sleep."
"But I don't want to," Lucie complained. "I'm too afraid."
Thinking this was nothing more than a typical case of fear of the dark, Mulan asked, "Well, why are you afraid? I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."
"I'm scared that when I wake up, you won't be there."
Mulan was sent reeling, both with alarm and pity. How terrible it must be for this abandoned child to trust, to open herself up like that, even without the firm confidence of a constant guardian.
Then all of a sudden, she was struck with an idea. Reaching into her pocket, Mulan pulled out a tarnished silver angel necklace, which she pressed firmly into Lucie's fragile little hand.
"This is for you, Lucie," the fallen angel began as she fastened the thin silver chain around the child's neck. "And it's a very special necklace, too. As long as you go to sleep with it and wake up with it, that means I will always come that day. As long as you have it, I will always be there." Then taking Lucie's delicate hands in hers, Mulan looked straight into Lucie's brilliant topaz eyes and promised, "No matter what happens, I will never, never abandon you."
Looking considerably more relaxed at this promise, Lucie's face was alight with joy as she settled into bed.
"I love you, Mulan," she murmured just before she drifted off to sleep with the most serene smile painted on her delicate lips as her left hand clutched the angel necklace.
Mulan's eyes widened at this statement. Lucie had always associated love with her mother; it wasn't a word she threw around lightly. Of course, Mulan knew she mattered to Lucie, since she was the only source of comfort in the child's troubled life. However, to know Lucie loved her… that was a whole thing unto itself.
Lost in thought, Mulan gazed tenderly upon the now peacefully sleeping girl, with her soft pink lips rounded in an O and her long eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly in her sleep. Despite the tranquility of the scene, Mulan knew all too well that Lucie's seemingly carefree expression in fact had a far more troubled story beneath. It never quite went away, even in her sleep. It could still be seen in the slight crease of her forehead, the dark circles under her eyes from one too many nights spent in tears, and her breathing just a bit too fast to warrant sweet dreams.
Mulan knew reform for insane asylums was sweeping across the United States, but it would probably take little over a decade before these changes reached England. What Mulan didn't know was how long Lucie could physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually survive in such a psychologically damaging environment. A little guardian angel necklace would not possibly be enough to keep Lucie grounded in sanity. How long could she be expected to hold on before she succumbed to the shadows of her own disturbed mind?
With a light kiss on the forehead, Mulan departed the asylum as well as This Earth. In a glorious flash of light, Mulan returned to what was called the Other Earth, or, as it so presumptuously liked to call itself, Reality.
Already, the fallen angel could already feel her power fading. Slowly, she underwent the transformation into the inanimate form of a clockwork angel. As she lay inert on Charlotte Winter's night table in wait to be worn by the Element of Love, her thoughts were halfway across the globe and dimension, directed to a suffering girl with a countdown ticking away to the destruction of her own mind.
How many years would Fate allow Lucie hold onto her sanity?
Apparently, only three.
Yup, Lucie and Mulan have a pretty deep history. Wait and see to find out how it escalates!
In other recent news, my best friend recently bought my an MLP Pinkie Pie Build-a-Bear doll! I've been obsessing over it all day! Love ya so much, BFF! Thanks for spending $25 dollars on my latest bout of insanity. :D
Chapter 2 of Word and Heart is coming on Wednesday! Until then, have a great weekend folks!
Love to all,
Bella