All Standard Disclaimers apply

Warning: This chapter contains non-consensual

Sexual content

Chapter 5

 Strange memories on this night in Dover. It is night now, I am certain of that. Gabriel had long departed but I paid him no mind even as he stayed.  It was easy for me to do to him. I can't say when he left, but I do know that it was night. Time was always a slippery thing with me, even in those younger years. Time moved on and away, whiling here and there throughout the ivy-tattered bricks of Lefrey's gray house, often abandoning me along with the rest of the jewel-box bound inhabitants for months at a time. In some ways it seemed as if we were all locked in a museum, exhibited and ushered about for the enjoyment of unseen watchers.  I felt sure in my deeper chambers, that Lefrey's was so removed from The Isle as to be on the other side of the world or in a removed dimension. And with this sense of removal and abandon of time and place, I frequently felt displaced and melancholy. So much did I long for the Isle and its non existent comforts, that I shunned whatever luxury was about me. For weeks I slept on the floor. I came to prefer that to the weakness of cot or bed. Though, I was often weakened by a need for consolation that I snuck pleasures away from my situation.

Lefrey's seasons were not as changeable as that of The Isle, where rain intruded on Moor and seascape alike. There was always pleasant breeze that often whispered its way into my room and brought some relaxation to my spirit. Rain was never constant, but only a visiting friend that washed clean it's friendship with the world every few weeks. I had learned a love of nature from my time at Lefrey's, one that I still carry with me, for though I knew no companion during those first few years, I was never alone. My admirable wind, my sun, and weeping fields beyond the atrium kept me in the good faith of my isolation. I enjoyed the isolation as it gave my doubt room to grow. It was these luxuries I stole from time to abandoning time, being that I was free to move about the school as I would, never having interest in the other students. I was never enlivened by a sense of competition. Indeed, I was rarely enlivened by anything, something Mr. Treize would remark upon in his overly poetic way. "Death hangs on you like musk" he would often say. In life he certainly took the deeper inhales of that musk.

But I will agree with him, though it is against my custom to do so. I was like walking death in those times. Barely alive or invigorated over anything, I was passing and wilted like a leaf that has seen its autumn to full. This is not to say that I was a sad sight, I was simply apathetic; a quality that still clings to my spirit even now or perhaps you wonder why I have not spoken in these twelve days? Madame Duhamel did not trouble about me. I think she was fairly well frightened of me by this time. (What time was it again? Time abandons me so easily that I lost interest in it many years ago. )

But I am rambling. Let us move to something of consequence.  The season and occasion that Aria came to Lefrey's.

I cannot say at what point it occurred, for as I have said, I did not keep track of time. But after a particularly tedious lesson in German. I was informed that I would be joining the students the following week in the regular classes. Perhaps this should have delighted me, but I felt little towards it. It would be a change of routine and most likely a bother to my own daily trains of thought. There was no fear of embarrassment for me. If I cared little for what the faculty thought of me, I thought even less for the sentiments of the student body. By this time I had mastered wearing shoes of all sorts. I could balance a book on my head and walk if needed be. I had even learned to tolerate the beauty pirates for a record sixteen minutes before I threatened them with bodily harm and banished them from me. All in all, it was a decent improvement. I took liberally from the library and seldom returned the books. My father's tutors often complained of my lack of enthusiasm and were often upset by my apathy and what they deemed "disrespect" towards my heritage. But I always retorted that I should be taught something about my heritage if I was to appreciate it. They responded that I could do with less cheek and more modesty. I usually dismissed them within a fortnight.

Yes, I was getting to full of myself, too confident in my own instincts, too careless in my burning bridges. But I was far from the point where alliances would be carefully crafted and preserved like the word of God. When I joined the students in their first morning class, there was excessive whispering and I was very conscious of it. I was given a brief introduction, to which, when I asked, I expanded little on. They were all given my name, my country and my age. Madame Duhamel gave the introduction herself. I listened closely to be sure she did not mock me in any hidden way. After the trivial ceremony I was given my seat. The girl next to me stared. She was a slight, red-haired thing with eyes that sloped downward. I did not care much for her gaping as it distracted me and so, forgetting all Lefrey's manners, I turned to her and stared back.

"Miss Analicia, may I have your attention, please?" The instructor prettily asked when my staring back had caused the entire classroom to watch.

"When I am finished here."

"It is impolite to stare." A dark-haired girl behind me muttered.

"One good turn deserves another."

The red-haired downward gaper looked mortified that I had called attention to her. It was very poorly done on my part. I had been indulged out of fear and given the run of my days and environment for the first time in my life.  In short, I had come to be very spoiled at Lefrey's. It was all done very poorly by me. I laughed at her then, and muttered that she was a weak little thing as she ran out of the class crying. Terribly done, the girl might have been an outcast among the group of students at the school for all I knew. She might have been a timid and meek young thing, a kind of character I had not encountered until that then. It seemed to me that all creatures so easily moved to tears were deserving of their censure. But at that time, with the education I had received in my homeland, there was but one tolerable kind of personality, the strong kind. It was a Dog eats dog world. It was all done very badly, by the ignorant and insensitive child I was then.

Needless to say, I did not win many friends by this action. But I was spared the initial pain of caring at least, as long as I had my books. With their comfort I had no need of friendship. It was a fantastically immature plan that failed miserably. Books are fine companions when you do not leave your room. But when you are surrounded everyday by those who will not accept you and obviously shun you, the books are too quiet for your starved spirit. My mind longed to have one to talk to and to tell things to. The books could only tell me one story at a time, and none of which I was a player in. I needed a real friend, and desperately. But I had insulted the whole student body beyond redemption by the end of the first week; insulted them with my arrogance and my insensitivity. There were numerous occasions were the nicer of the students sought me out to ask me about the Isle, for they were all very curious about it. Not knowing a lot about my homeland myself, and being shamed by that, I gave them vague impressions of the place. They most likely thought me too arrogant to give them any real details. My ignorance was veiled by a specter of pride. My ignorance would come to ultimately undo me at Lefrey's, and undo Lefrey's as well. For you see, I did not realize how malicious the offended mind can be. I should have known this, that human's do not forget slights and seldom need reason to attack. My training should have taught me to be wary of unexpected advances. There are always things to learn and always hard ways to learn them.

During the forth week of classes following my integration, that gut wrenching feeling of failure and humiliation first acquainted itself with my innards. Vespertine Agrevienne was the name of my transgressor and a greater serpent I had met until my time in the heart of the Rhineland. I believe she was from the Mediterranean side of France, or to whomever it belonged to at that time. It might have been all Alliance by then. What I remember of her physically was that she was petite; squat in my opinion, with gray eyes and her hair seemed to be just skin that had grown down in long swirling thatches that darkened towards the ends. Her lashes jutted out like spider legs and I always had the sense of a damp musty draft when she was around me, like cold raw feet in March; almost grotesque, but all in just enough proportion to give her an odd beauty that catered to the artistic personality.

She had, a week before the frightful event, come to my room late one night. Lights-out was in effect, though I was exempt due to Duhamel's increasing fear of my displeasure. But Vesper had come knocking all the same and I had answered. She didn't wait for invitation to come in, but inelegantly pushed all obstacles aside and was soon standing in the middle of my suite. Her gray eyes scanned the room robotically, her arms folded over breasts hidden by a white standard –issue silk nightgown. I could feel the air dampening.

"This is quite the set up" her voice was accented. Yes, French, very French. I said nothing. I already wanted her out before mold started growing on the walls.

"I like the curtains, and the terrace, and all the other luxuries. Would you care to explain it?" She turned to me, accusingly. I didn't answer.

"Have you been in the dormitories? This is a nice school of course, but we have nothing like this! You live like a Princess and have claim to nothing but Isle blood."

I arched a brow at her. She smiled and assumed a friendly demeanor.

"There is no real shame in it of course. The Isle is ancient like the rest of our families. Though we know little about your name and little about your land since no one is allowed to go there. But of course there is no real shame in it." She giggled.

"Just the other kind of shame?" I asked, sarcastically. Her giggling faded and she grimaced.

"What are you holding over their heads?" I wouldn't have been surprised if she had spit a snake at me after the manner of those words. "Your polluted blood should by all rights not be allowed within five hundred miles of this school, or this country! We don't recognize any nobility in your bloodline! You are no more than a radioactive raving bloodline that would have saved the world an unsavory sight if it had just gone up in smoke like the rest of your dirty kind did!" She advanced towards me like a spark from an inferno. I was a little shocked at how quickly she had gone from a friendly facade to ferocity. But I was myself rapidly becoming indignant, though trying to heed my sensei by not becoming enraged at the terrible condemnation of my people.

"We don't want you here. You have no place here, and everyone knows your presence is a hoax! You are not supposed to be here. Go back to the Isle and go mad like your people always do."

Ah! But AH! I knew how to cut this one. I knew the best way to behead a flower in her full bloom of rage. This was what Hirumatsu had taught me, to find advantage and slit throats with it.

"At least I have a country to go back to. When I am done here, I will return to my land and continue on towards ruling my family." I walked back to the door and opened it.

"And you will be auctioned off to the highest bidder, becoming just another Alliance whore." Smirk, smirk, smirk to emphasize the truth of it. Her eyes gaped then glared at me, swampy and severe.

"Lights are out for you. Go to bed little princess, enjoy the Dormitories." She started storming out of the room but stopped on the threshold.

"We can make you leave! Before you even know we have done it you will be gone. And-" she was cut off, for my hand, independently as I recalled fluttered about her; curling near her neck.

I flicked the carotid artery in her neck that was sticking out in ire. I think I saw the chill that raised the flesh of her arms only to be warmed by a red flush. My hand was snatched in a vice grip I wouldn't have imagined Vespertine was capable of. A quick curl of her lips and I found my finger within her mouth, her tongue rolling over it. I pulled it back quickly and stepped away until my back was met with the wall. I felt the dampness of her air and my stomach rolled, like I was locked in a cellar, like too much wine, like rotten fruit and arsenic.

"Touch not least ye be touched. This is the world of Romafellar. If you want to remain with us, you might start learning how we operate." I was aghast and tried not to show it.

"You are only a few years older than I. Hardly an expert on the 'we' of Romafellar" I answered shakily; damnably shaken, damnably! Vespertine stepped closer until she was against me. Her breath was on my collar bone and I felt like I could sink into the wood at my back to escape that damp air she projected.

"We grow up fast in this world. We know things at a young age." A cold hand on my chin, her small stature seemed enormous to me now. I was afraid; my advantage had been swept away by this . . . unexpected turn of events. "You are not without charm and certain prettiness . . ." her curving lips fell artfully where her breath had chilled my collarbone.

Her head seemed to jump quickly to the side and the red welts my nails had scoured across her cheek bled within seconds. She has cradling her hand, the one I didn't even remember removing from my chin and bending in an unnatural direction until it snapped. The heat of anger and her rush of need for me had made her face red so that her eyes seemed white and spectral in her head. Her body moved like a swimming reptile as she cleared from the room into the darkness of the hall.

It was unexpected at that time, such an advance upon me by one of my sex. I was not acquainted with much sexuality at that time beyond the scientific facts of it. I was by this time fourteen years old and while not sexually responsive to my environment, I did know that my particular tastes did not run to women, even if I gave men very little though in that kind. I was still quite young and undoubtedly a late bloomer.

But one who was at that time among the girls of the Dormitories would enlighten me later to exactly the nature of student bodies at Lefrey's. My prophecy of Vespertine as an Alliance whore might be in some circles considered not at all prophetic but a current fact. She was sixteen years old and had been without virginity for enough time to be considered a veteran. Many young men of various academies knew Lefrey's for exactly what it was: a place to train the future wives, mistresses, and playthings for the gentlemen of the Alliance. The girls that attended understood this too, and spent their nights in practices that pertain to those hours even as their days were engaged in more mentionable activities. The young man I had seen under my balcony and his companion where undoubtedly there to check the progress of the students and to offer advanced tutorials.

"You have seen them on some nights, half the Dormitory would be engaged with each other. Very indulgent and very experimental." My informant would later tell me. Alliance Whores, to be sure. Did my father know this? To be sure. He had hoped I would master sexual power as well as those of intellect and fighting. He wanted all my possibilities covered.

I do not now, and never will condemn a single one of those girls for what they were and what they became. For in the end, I was their queen.

But my losses had not come to be expected yet. I still only looked for and expected gains. It came swiftly after my rejection of Vespertine's advances and I realized it quickly. It had been a mere week since the affair, or lack of, with Vespertine when, in the middle of the day, I found myself completely overcome with sickness. We were out in the fields on equestrian exercise when I pulled my horse away from the main group. I didn't notice that some followed me. I dismounted and passed through the trees in search of shade and privacy. My stomach roiled and was lost among the brush. I was dizzy. My head hurt. My vision blurred. My skin burned. My bones softened and ceased their support of my skin and organs. I crawled. I collapsed. I bled. I wrenched.

Then I smelled the damp air and knew that what blocked out the sun was not the trees, but people standing over me, not many people, but enough. I felt like I was dying and then I felt cold. Dimly, I knew I was cold because my clothes were gone; I was covered now by chilled repellent skin. There was a whisper, a grunt, the breaking of a branch and the rustle of leaves; far off, the whinny of horses along the trails. I was under attack and I could not repel it! Help me! Something help me! Let me wake up so I can escape! Let me wake up!

Wake up!

Shaking. Cold. Empty.

Wake up, NOW! 

A man, I can smell him.

She hasn't eaten in three days.

Full now, of what I don't want.

That won't do. She is required to eat.

Parted! Tearing! Rent!

Wake her up!

Humiliated! Stop it!

Analicia!

A man, I can smell him. He smells cold.

Shaking. Thrashing!

Stop! Get off me! I'll kill you!

Rent! Broken! Torn! Taken!

I'll kill you!

LEECY!

Wake up! Taken! Wake up!

A man. His cold smell.

Laughter! A Whimper! A crash.

ANNE!

A man, I could smell him. He smelled warm. I opened my eyes and breathed again. It was Gabriel and his one eye. My eyes were stinging with the memory of that day. I had forgotten it. I had made myself forget. Aria was there in front of me at the end of the bed. Her arms were folded. Gabriel pushed me up to a sitting position, water at my lips. I drank. It wasn't water, something else was in it. It all blurred and I swear I could still feel the tearing sensation of that man. I never remembered his face. I probably killed him somewhere along the way and never knew it. Gabriel, his warm smell keeping it at bay, but not inviting me any closer. Aria, her arms folded before me. The crash. My hands fell away from the cool drink. My mind fell away from the warm air and single eye of Gabriel. I held onto Aria, assuming the same position in my memory.

The crash came from a tree branch that had met with the skull of the man who was now on his feet and back in his clothes. His blood splattered on my face, but he was able to run off with the others that had been with him. I turned onto my bruised stomach and lost all of what was left within it. There were three girls standing over me now. They seemed to me like three Greek Muses, one with sunlight hair, the next with darkened tresses like my own, the third with blood soaked hair. They covered me as best they could and I was lifted, the pain was distinct with ever movement of my flesh. I caught only a fragment of what they said. The lighter and darker deferring to the girl of blood red hair.

"Not the infirmary?"

"No . . . in her room"

"She needs . . .nurse . . . for now"

"No Doctors" that was repeated several times before I lost all consciousness.

I opened my eyes hours later, and standing at the foot of my bed, in her Lefrey's uniform linen, with her arms crossed, was the red haired muse, my little sister Aria.