A/N: This is kinda like a childhood thing smooshed into one chapter, so feel free to skip it. The real story begins in the chapter after this.
D.L.D
~~~~~Bastard-Child~~~~~
"Elizabeth, my dear!" A soft voice cooed, the toddler giggling as she hid away from the owner. Little hands covered a tiny mouth, attempting to stifle the sound. "Where have you run off to?"
Elizabeth gasps, shuffling further underneath the table as she spots her mother's flowing skirts. Bright blue eyes follow the rich fabrics, watching the trail of light that succeeds like a flowing train. Clicking follows the dress, distinct and recognisable to the girl as her mother always wore heeled shoes.
"Elizabeth~" The voice calls out once more, light and musical. The clicking fades from the table, instead crossing to the other side of the room. "Are you behind this chair?"
Another giggle escapes, the small child scurrying from her spot beneath the table. Her little legs hurry towards a chair nearby, the child ducking to avoid her mother's gaze. She had to move a lot quicker now, smarter. This was always when she'd be caught.
"Elizabeth?" The call was worried this time, distressed, her mother frowning as she quickly turned on her heels. Her eyes scanned the vicinity of the room, a painted nail being chewed by her teeth as she paced towards the table once more.
"Elizabeth, dear, please come out!"
"I'm here!" Elizabeth leaps out from her hiding spot, capturing her mother's leg within her arms. She looks up at her parent with a wide smile, her blue eyes shining as her downy wings twitch.
Elizabeth was always a sweet child, fair and beautifully crafted. She valued kindness, fairness and equality over envy and other childish flaws. Even at such an innocent and tender age, at such a formative and premature stage, Elizabeth was more aware of how to behave than most who were much older than her. She was emotionally mature. That was definitely proof of how well the Supreme Deity had done raising her.
"Well done!" The Supreme Deity beamed, her features soft as she scooped up the child. Her smile was wide, but did not reach her blue eyes, as she taps Elizabeth's button nose. "You're improving wonderfully, my sweet."
The child raises a brow at her mother's words, her nose scrunching in skepticism, "I am?"
"You are," Her mother nods, smiling. She sets the girl down, patting her silver-haired head. "You are my rainbow child."
The toddler giggles at her mother's praise, smiling as she is showered with further affection and praise. Flushing pink, her rosy cheeks betray her excited state and display the naive innocence she held within her heart.
"Thank you," The words escape behind a heavy blush, quiet and bashful like the girl who gazes up at her mother with nothing but admiration.
She is unaware of the darkness hidden within her; she is unaware of the forced, tightened smile of her mother.
~~~~~Bastard-Child~~~~~
Training with a sword was a dangerous occupation for a lady. Swords are sharp; swords are deadly; and swords are toys that are often reserved for war and men who were on the more noble or violent side of society. In short, swords were something a woman of good heritage wouldn't often encounter. She may see one, touch one, perhaps ask questions about one, but never pick up or use a sword.
Ladies did not use swords.
So naturally, Elizabeth was confused when her mother had first approached her with a lovely looking blade. It had a silver handle, a pure aquamarine gemstone lodged into the centre of the hilt, and owned a design based on the very essence of the goddess race. The blade had been pristine, pure, lacking the signs of age and tarnish and radiating the warm and swathing nature of the race's powers.
But even with its pure nature, the weapon looked out of place against the Supreme Deity's gloved hands, especially when they were so finely and primly kept. Such fine hands should not be near a tool of blood and war.
"What's this, mother?" Elizabeth frowned a little, setting aside the little mouse she had befriended. Its paws flurrying as fast as possible, the creature scurried away into the long strands of grass.
"A sword," The Supreme Deity responded coolly, evenly. She sat beside her daughter in the grass, ignoring the thought of what creature could be lurking in the muck and dirt. "It is time I taught you to defend yourself."
At those words, the girl frowned. Elizabeth knew very well that her mother had always planned on her eventual coming of age. She knew that she was not like the other girls in her village, her town, and had always known she had some sort of special purpose. But she had never imagined it was linked to swords.
"But, mother," Elizabeth began, pressing her lips as she paused to think. "...Didn't you say swords aren't for ladies?"
A light laugh leaves the Supreme Deity at that, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "Are you a lady, my Elizabeth?"
"I believe so," The girl gave a smile so sweet, so pure, that even the coldest of hearts would warm towards it. Her little blue eyes shone with youthful vigour, her little pearly teeth glinting in the light of the sun.
It made it all the more awful as she realised the truth.
"Well, my sweet, you are not," The Supreme Deity releases a hefty sigh, a hand pinching the soft skin of her brow. Clasping the child's hands within her own, the goddess turns to Elizabeth, her expression plain and factual. "You are a maiden of battle. There is a small but distinct difference."
'What difference?' Elizabeth craves to ask, but she knows better. Questions are better left unanswered. They caused too much trouble - too much grief - and Elizabeth knew her mother abhorred such things.
So she simply gives a small hum, swallowing the thick lump that pressed against her throat. She would not ask her questions today - perhaps tomorrow.
"I see..." Elizabeth nods, pressing her lips once more as she pulled away from her mother's hold. Her blue eyes lose their dazzling shine, fixing onto the sky and its bright colours instead of the sword that lay in her mother's lap.
She hated that thing - that sword - but she will not say so. She will do as she is told and become a maiden of battle.
~~~~~Bastard-Child~~~~~
Praying in the spring had always felt long for Elizabeth. She had never liked the idea of wading into a freezing pool, standing there for hours at a time, and pretending not to feel cold as she squeezed her wrinkling hands together in an effort to pray.
Praying here was never easy; praying here was never something Elizabeth fully understood.
But praying here was something she had always had to do.
Next to her mother, Elizabeth stood and tried to mimic her perfect example. She stood with her hands clasped over her heart, her blue eyes squeezed shut and face immobile despite the silver hairs that stuck to her wet flesh - but felt nothing.
She could not feel anything: not the running of the water; not the feel of her powers thrumming through her veins; not even the distant voice of some whispering god or force.
Elizabeth felt nothing - well, not until her curiosity struck in.
"Mother," The girl raised a brow, turning to face her statuesque parent. "Why am I called Elizabeth?"
The slight crease in her mother's brow betrays the disappointment she feels, and no doubt the scolding Elizabeth will receive at home, but is hidden behind the serene composure of a wonderfully balanced goddess.
"Because you are the abundance of god," Her mother answers calmly, smoothly. Her eyes do not open, her clasped hands do not twitch. "Upon your birth, you were pledged to destroy the darkness - to free light itself."
Hanging heavy and thick, the words make the young girl feel colder in the spring. She didn't know why, but she did not like the sound of that phrase. She did not like the idea of being a warrior raised from birth. She never had.
"Really? What if... I'm not?" Elizabeth blinks, unsure of what she really is destined to do. She cannot say why, but she feels out of place within her own people, odd, and she feels as if everyone else can see it too.
Everyone except her mother.
"There's no doubt," The Supreme Deity hums, opening her eyes a crack to have them glance towards her daughter. As always she has an ethereal tone, the sort that instantly makes you trust her, know that she knows best - and Elizabeth can't help but feel that her mother did. "You are our hope. And you will be the one to save us all."
Elizabeth responds with silence, returning her gaze back to the sky - back to the shining sun that beams down on the freezing lake. With her mother's words, she knows that she can do what she is destined to do. She can be what she is fated to be.
Even if she doesn't want to.
Closing her eyes and squeezing her hands tighter together, Elizabeth once again attempts to pray.
She will be the one to defeat the monstrous demons; she will be the one to save her people.
She will be the one to destroy darkness with light.
~~~~~Bastard-Child~~~~~
Legs swung from a thick tree branch, pale and unmarked against the faded blue material of Elizabeth's cotton frock. Swaying lightly in the breeze, her silver ponytail tickled her neck and wings as she glanced at the green grass below.
All sorts of plants and blooms were reaching up towards her, towards the sun, their leaves craving the light of life. Pastel petals met her eyes along with the mossy sea of grass that blanketed the earth's grubby dirt. Little leaves waved in their own gentle dance, while a few stems bent to allow the plants to twirl and turn as they pleased to match their waving leaves. In all, it was peaceful. Perfect.
"Mother, will never find me here," Elizabeth sniffs triumphantly, her blue eyes crinkled with a victorious grin. "She hates the idea of mud and dirt."
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth ignores the itchy feeling of rough bark on her bare legs, instead reveling in the cooler breeze of the tree's canopy. Deep breaths inhale the crisp, fresh air and the girl allows it to cool her skin and refresh her senses.
It was rare when she got to enjoy the simpler things of Britannia, especially as she had gotten older. When she was younger, Elizabeth's mother had been a lot more yielding in her training regime. Days would be spent rolling through fields, watching wildlife and blowing dandelion seeds into the open blue sky; now she was older, Elizabeth's days were spent holding a blessed sword, praying in a useless spring and strengthening her wings for the ability of flight she would rarely use.
At first, Elizabeth had known that with her destiny this would eventually come. She knew that to be the destroyer of darkness and saviour of her race, she must train like there was no tomorrow. But now she was a teenager, nearly a young woman, all she could ever seem to do was grow distracted.
"Elizabeth!" Once again an ethereal voice calls out between the trees, urgency laced within the panicked tone.
Her mother.
Huffing, Elizabeth rolls her eyes.
She knows that her mother is near, she can tell from the raised tinkling of her voice and the soft click of those damned heels. Clearly she was getting better at predicting Elizabeth's hiding spots.
"I'm here mother!" Elizabeth calls, her frustration hidden behind an obedient tune.
At Elizabeth's response, the image of her mother's form then comes into view, graceful and distinct. Her fancy tunic looks out of place in the wildlife of Britannia - much too gaudy and godlike - and her silver hair is coiffed and bejeweled too dazzlingly. Too formally.
Elizabeth grimaces, knowing it can mean only one thing.
"Well, reveal yourself!" Her mother shakes her head, folding her arms across her chest. Blue eyes dart around the myriad of trees, the goddess tapping her foot. "You've grown too good at hiding for me to find you!"
Laughing a little, Elizabeth adjusts her seating on the branch. Hooking onto the tree, her fingers twist around the branch as she begins to lower her body. Then, in one swift movement, she lets go of the branch completely, dropping.
Her mother gasps, scandalized, just spotting the girl. "Elizabeth!"
The female in question grins, her mischief evident, as she gracefully floats from the tree, her white wings fluffing as she boastfully pulls off a perfect landing. The Supreme Deity mumbles something while Elizabeth curtsies, shaking her head.
"In the trees as always," Her mother frowns, brushing leaves and dirt from Elizabeth's hair and cotton frock. "When are you going to mature! A proper lady does not act like those brutes we call warriors."
"I'm just having fun, mother," Elizabeth laughs lightly, her face feeling warm. There was no doubt she was blushing, she could tell from the burning of the tips of her ears. But smiling and laughing were her only defenses against the bitter disappointment. "There's nothing wrong with that, right?"
The Supreme Deity grows a larger frown at this, her lips turning down further as she massages the growing knots in her temples.
"This is not 'fun', Elizabeth," Her mother sighs, already stepping away from the clearing. Her heels click rhythmically, piercing the ground with each step. "I am training you to save your life. In a couple more years, you will be on the radar of a deadly monster. I want you to be prepared."
"As you always say," Elizabeth rolls her eyes once more, staring dejectedly at the ground. She follows her mother, her cheeks burning and lips pouting like she was a young child being scolded.
"Exactly," The Supreme Deity beams, not at all noticing Elizabeth's dejection. Instead she is focused on the missed time, the missed training time, and hurries to usher Elizabeth away before she can grow distracted once more. "Now come on, I'm taking you to pray."
Elizabeth lets out a groan at those words, not protesting but knowing that her body wanted anything else but to go to that damned spring once more.
~~~~~Bastard-Child~~~~~
Just one more. One more.
Elizabeth pants, her hair sticking to her forehead as she glares at her opponent. Delicate, dainty hands are wrapped around the hilt of her sword, her knuckles gradually healing from their split state. A gash on her arm bleeds freely, staining the feathers of her wings, as she widens her stance and stares coolly at her smirking adversary. Everything hurt, her arms, legs and even neck ached, but Elizabeth would not stop. Not yet.
Ludociel.
He was always someone she could never defeat. He was someone she could never live up to. The second most powerful of her mother's Archangels, Ludociel was trained to assist Elizabeth in her eventual battle against the next Demon King from more or less birth.
However unlike everyone else, Elizabeth always sensed a condescending aura from him. She always saw the way he made snide comments, looked down at her like scum and often remarked that she was only special because of her heritage.
And his disdain always showed.
It showed remarkably well.
"Your movements are sloppy," Ludociel speaks critically, tilting his head as he peers at the panting Elizabeth. His weapon is in his hold, poised to strike, and yet his voice contrasts it with a jarringly smooth tone. "You need to be faster."
By reflex, Elizabeth blocks an attack with her sword. It's a second too late, her cheek being nicked by the smooth steel of Ludociel's own weapon, before the sound of metal clashing crashes into her eardrums.
Blue eyes widened, Elizabeth glances up at the larger entity looming over her. She can feel the strands of his raven hair tickling her face, can feel the body heat rolling from his form and can count the lashes lining his eyes.
Shaking, the female grits her teeth and narrows her gaze. Her insides feel like they are being stirred with a relentless force, squirming and jiggling in a fashion she had never experienced before - which was odd. Ludociel and herself had been this close many times before - many battles before - but never had Elizabeth felt like this. She had never felt her stomach twisting in this sickening, nauseating way. Her brain had never told her to run, to shut down and leave the battle behind. Her hands had never shook around the hilt of her sword, her biceps only quaking more due to the increased fear in her system; she had never been scared.
"A weak guard," Ludociel states coolly, easily pushing Elizabeth's sword towards her face. She falls back with the motion, like a child hit by a powerful gun's recoil. The blade grazes her nose, leaving a thin, fine line of red. "Barely any strength or stamina."
No response comes. Elizabeth can't respond. All she can do is grit her teeth, steel her will and push back on the force that moves danger towards her. Her brain is not thinking, nor are her lungs breathing properly.
Everything is paralyzed with fear.
Ludociel looms over her, his dark hair like a thick, heavy curtain of smog. His narrowed eyes are intently fixed onto her face, studying her features as he pushes his weapon ever closer to her throat. Metal forces her airways to close up, heavy and foreboding.
"Are you really the one fated to defeated the demon prince?"
At those words, Elizabeth freezes, her racing pulse and stuttering breaths falling dead to her ears. Shaking, her hands are still white and tightly wrapped around the hilt of her sword, ignoring the warm blood that trickle down them.
Her blue eyes are closed, her face pale and plain, and she silently positions her sword back to push against Ludociel. "Who are you to question who I am?"
Elizabeth's eyes snap open, dark as pitch-black coals, and are framed by her long, silver lashes. Inky darkness bleeds down her face, tracing the curve of her nose to finally settle as rivers racing down her pale cheeks.
Everything is ringing, distant, in her ears. Heartbeats sound like echoing springs; her footsteps sound like cushioned paces; and breathing is like whispered wisps in the wind. Cool and calming to her skin, the air brushes past at a speed she had never experienced, countering the overwhelming heat of her full, heated veins.
Moving her arm, miraculous strength pushes Ludociel away with certain ease. A fleeting breeze follows, flitting through her wings and hair.
"Did I...do that?" Elizabeth breathes, staring at her still pale hands. She watches as the darkness dances up her arm, not quite feeling as if it were real.
Was any of this real?
Elizabeth blinks, frowning a little as she glances around. Everything was still warped, dreamlike, sounds being muted and her vision being tilted and blurred: trees appeared to be waving bushes with skeletal limbs; the ground became the tilting deck of a ship; and the sky above was changing into a blood red screen. That wasn't right. The sky was blue, trees didn't wave and the ground didn't tilt and spin.
Tilting a brow, Elizabeth staggers forwards. As soon as that strange surreal feeling had formed, it dissipates, everything heightened to feel a thousand times more overwhelming than it usually would be. Scents roll in waves, sounds crash like boulders falling from cliffs, vision is stretched like the endless horizon of the sky above.
And Elizabeth was planted right in the middle of it.
"Impure!"
"Filthy!"
"Corrupt!"
The words ring in her ears, ugly and blaring as the female stumbles on her feet. Automatically, tears poured from her eyes, thick and viscous, as she felt the cool darkness spreading on her skin. The more she cried, the more it grew, taking over her limbs and joints as Elizabeth's brain continued to ring.
"Impure! Filthy! Corrupt!"
The words were swarming now, growing and towering like huge impenetrable walls. All sources of light were blocked out, swirling clouds of fogginess patching Elizabeth's vision as tears continued to fall in a never-ending pattern.
Just before her stood the group of Archangels, each of them looking at her with judging glares. Ludociel was injured, hunched, the other two supporting him. The remaining one glanced at her with a look of disappointment, his brows furrowed and downturned.
In a blink the group changed, mutated, into a scene of blood and gore and animosity. Blood dripped down once pristine skin and a head rolled along the ground to stop just before Elizabeth's feet.
"You did this..." It utters. Glassy eyes are opened, their pupils missing.
Squeezing her own eyes shut, Elizabeth tried to scream - she tried to call for help. But nothing came out, her face feeling slack and her body feeling alien as she stepped forwards clutching her sword.
It was going to happen. She was going to kill them. Something dark inside her wanted to see those Archangels dead.
"It's alright, I'm here," The Supreme Deity wraps Elizabeth in a hug, her action sudden, arms tight and aura warm. She plants a kiss on the female's forehead, soothing the pounding pain that came with the emergence of her birthmark.
"All will be fine, my sweet," Her mother sighs, her voice soft and silky like a lullaby. "All will be well, my perfect rainbow child."
At her mother's words, Elizabeth calmed, her tears freezing and heart stilling. The darkness ceased to spread and her head ceased to pound. Instead she was calm, relaxed, allowing herself to feel safe within her mother's arms.
Her dear mother's arms.
"Hush my dear, you're safe..." Her mother whispered, rocking a little. "No harm will come to you."
Silent tears tracked down Elizabeth's face, the female staring off into the horizon. It was then, after the emergence of her true heritage, that Elizabeth first knew she was a bastard child. It was then when all the pieces of her own identity - purpose - clicked.
