Pre-Story Flashback:
(Reina – 5 years old)
Slap!
Once again, those same warm weathered hands that had once held her close and tucked her in, they have once more been used to punish the murderer of the Sword Saint and a monster that deserves immediate execution.
[Wilhelm: You truly disgust me monster. To steal HER blessing, to steal HER face, and to even steal HER life! Will you only be satisfied after you have totally desecrated her memory?!]
Harsh words that would be entirely inappropriate to speak to any child, doubly so to one of your blood. Unfortunately, chivalry does not protect monsters, and a traitor who murdered her own esteemed grandmother should not expect to enjoy any comfort from the dear grandfather she had stolen from.
[Reina: Please forgive this ungrateful granddaughter, esteemed grandfather. If it pleases, I shall retire back to my own room.]
Slap!
[Wilhelm: Do not call me "grandfather" you despicable child. You taint her legacy with your every breath, with your every word you curse her memory and the love she showed you.]
A still face that will not betray the hurt boiling up in her heart. That familiar numbness spreading from her heart into her Od. Every factor perfectly measured, perfectly controlled so as not to use her stolen face to displease her esteemed grandfather anymore with her sinful existence.
[Reina: Yes sir, I will do as you ask. Will I be required for anything else, or may I be excused back to my room?]
With a face contorted by disgust mixed with eyes that almost seem to be haunted by a memory of what has been lost, he waves her off without patience, but not before widening the wound a little further. The damnable thing must be reminded of its sins after all, this is what Theresia deserves, this is justice.
[Wilhelm: You may return back to your room demon; I pray to the Dragon that if there is even a shred of humanity left in you that you use the time you have stolen to reflect. Perhaps eventually you will have understood a tenth of what you inflicted upon the woman who loved you most in the world, you vile creature.]
Turning slowly and walking back out of the hall that she had offended her esteemed grandfather in, she begins to do as commanded and reflect on how as a monster wearing the face of the hero she killed, she desecrates the very memory that the great Sword Saint Theresia left behind.
She takes a moment to reflect on how she would hold her, how she would rock ever so gently with her in her arms while she ran her fingers through her hair, but she regains control of herself soon enough. To remember her victim fondly, to bask in the warmth of the kindness she left behind, ignorantly ignoring the fact that the girl she was coddling was a monster that would one day be her murderer.
[Reina: I am truly sinful. To use the rest of this meagre life in order to atone for my uncountable offenses is the least I can do, a monster wearing a hero's face and polluting her blood with its every heartbeat, that is what I am.]
In the wounded heart that would not be allowed to scar and heal, the girl was sure that this was all she would ever be, ever deserve to dream to be.
Drawing closer towards the door she gently opens it up into the gloom of what has become her room, or perhaps as she would call it, the den of the monster of the Astrea family. While her father had made great efforts to keep it in shape, with her mother's health failing he had tearfully left, promising to be back once her most beautiful mother had recovered and once again be a family.
She appreciated the lie for its intended purpose, after all a man as kind as her father would not even let a wounded mabeast suffer, and it seemed he extended that kindness even to his monstrous daughter that murdered his beloved mother.
Looking around at the mess, the particles of dust her Divine Blessing of Cleanliness assured her were there, her clothes that were folded a thousandth of an inch uneven according to her Divine Protection of Cloth Handling, and more sinful than everything else was her bed. The bed that she had selfishly made perfectly, all in anticipation of laying in it once again, vainly hoping for comfort that she knew she could not ever deserve and certainly would not find within these sheets.
As she rests her flowing fire red hair upon her pillow and allows her ocean blue eyes to close, she shows her wicked nature once again by allowing herself a small smile. She would dream peacefully and deeply, a dream of a loving family that she was sure she would never have but could not stop herself from wishing for.
(Reina – 6 years old)
Strike!
Continue the assault, follow the white lines, obey father's command to spar with him using her full might.
Slash!
Continue to increase the pressure on the opponent, take advantage of the opponent's fatigue, disarm him.
Thud!
The opponent has lost their weapon, advance, and place your sword against his neck, finish the match with the grace expected of a knight's daughter.
[Heinkel: So it is true then?]
What appears to be shock floats to the surface of her father's face, the unflappable man that had never lost his composure, not even when he indulged in that burning drink he forbade her from trying.
[Reina: Father? Was I sloppy? Please forgive my lack of form, I will continue to endeavor to become a better- ]
[Heinkel: No. You have surpassed me, surpassed my father, perhaps you are even equal to the first Sword Saint.]
A smile blooms on her face. Even if her grandfather rightfully refuses to acknowledge her, even if her mother can no longer sing to her as she once did, even if in her heart she knows she is sinful her beloved father will surely still call her his,
[Heinkel: Monster!]
For the last time shock, sorrow, grief, and anguish appear on her face. The last person who loved her, the last bastion against her sinful self has finally recognized her for the monster she is.
Her face, which had morphed momentarily into a frown, is then quickly forced back into neutrality by her Divine Protection of the Actor.
As she looks into the eyes of her father, those eyes glazed by a new hatred she had failed to notice, she finally understands that she is at last truly alone in a world that will only love her as a weapon.