A/N: This fic has been done so dirty by me. It's lived through three generations of my writing, from crappy writer all the way to angsty, broody writer. I feel like it's gonna live through even more... That being said, sorry if the jump between writing styles in jarring in this chapter. Past me wrote in a mixture of past and present tense and now I recognise that it's meant to be JUST past or present. So sorry in advance folks.
Also, I realised that I THOUGHT I KNEW YOU (now christened ITIKY) is like a shit-post for me. This fic is definitely like... one of my less serious fics. If you wanna check out my more serious, refined works (funny I just realised that none of my Seven Deadly Sins shit is finished. Must be a curse) check out my profile! We've got a roommates au; one where they get turned into kids; and some more I'm pretty sure. I honestly lost count.
Anyway, till next time my loves,
D.L.D
Elizabeth's P.O.V
Time had passed in long, stretched out moments for me. Ever since my guide had left me to the privacy of my accommodation I'd been lost on what to do. Although I was in a room located on a large school campus there was nothing to do, nothing to see. To limit my chances of communication or escape, the room was quite bare and void of the usual things I'd have with me. Only a few books, personal favourites of mine I'd noticed, gave me a chance to do anything productive.
Sighing, I picked one up and tried to flick it open and read. It started with- I couldn't get through the first sentence. At all. I found myself itching, craving, to do something other than just sit here, trapped in a room and reading silly novels. People were out there suffering. People I knew were out there worrying about me and hoping that I was alright. How could I just sit here, reading, and be content with that? How could I sit here knowing that they were worried sick?
Frowning, I glanced out of the window. Glass stared back, printed with the faint ghosts of the grass outside. A few students were still prancing around on the green, their wings flitting excitedly as they played some sort of game. My own wings twitched with the anticipation to join them - then the pain came, jolting me back to reality. Here I was, in this room, injured, slowly healing, and trying to work out how to save Meliodas. What a predicament...
"Why do I always dive in head-first?" I sighed, shaking my head as I turned away from the window. "Why didn't I think with my brain for once!"
I never did. Not now, not ever. With no look back, with no regrets, I left King, Diane and Ban behind. So caught up in my own emotions, my own plans, I forgot to tell them, warn them, about what I was going to do next. How were they now? Elaine was surely not much better and they must have been worrying ten times more now that I was gone. The hope I gave to them, the hope of having someone who could heal things, did help. In its own way, it helped.
Then there was Merlin, who would have known that I would try something like this. Would she tell them? Would she let them know that I was fine? I bit my lip. I didn't know. I didn't know if she would even know if I was ok.
"Why did I even think to do this?" I ended up berating myself, tossing the book aside and beginning to pace the room. My shoulders ached, mainly from the weight of my bound and injured wings, but I couldn't do much about it. Like the professionals said, it would take a while to heal - even with goddess powers. But I deserved that. My injury was just another thing that was my fault; it came from my own naivety.
Shadows flicked in the corner of my eye. Estarossa. The wall. Fear. Then there was Meliodas, furious, saving me, but oh so furious. So much was bothering him in that moment. So much was chipping away at his shoulders. And I had just cried. Like the victim I was, like the damsel in distress, I had just cried and thrown myself into his arms, feeling more damaged than I'd ever felt in my life. How selfish of me. How horrible.
A shiver traveled up my spine. I was a terrible person. I didn't deserve to be forgiven.
"Elizabeth?" Two solid knocks to the door. A voice I did not expect to hear. I tensed. "Are you in there?"
Although that voice was nothing but a friendly memory, someone I once knew, I couldn't bring myself to smile. Not when I knew that he had gone down his own path that was twisted and riddled with dark patches. I didn't know if he was the same. I would hope that he was - I would have liked to think that he was - but I didn't know. And, unfortunately, hope was not enough to be certain; not knowing was dangerous when you were someone in my situation.
"Y-yes," I answered as solidly as I could, telling my body to stop trembling and feeling so nervous. Nerves were something that they would exploit here. I knew that and they knew that. The less anxiety I showed the better. "You can come in."
Slowly, the door clicked open and a familiar person stepped inside. Bright pinkish-red hair, a small gait, big wings that shimmered in the shades of the rainbow: Gloxinia. Good old Gloxinia, an old friend and ally who had helped me to gather support for Stigma. Time hadn't changed how he looked - not even now when he wore the colours of the school he had formerly opposed. He still looked young for his age, still had that long red hair and still had the same warm grin. The only thing that had changed was his eyes, cold dark eyes that were once a warm honey-brown.
"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" His laughter filled the room, oddly friendly and receptive. He paired it with a bright grin, his dark eyes displaying a seedling of warmth within them. "You haven't changed a bit, Elizabeth. Still exactly the same."
"I could say the same to you," I offered quietly, pursing my lips as I swallowed the urge to gulp. This was weird to me, new. I didn't know what to expect or what to do. I didn't even know if this was all an act to gain my trust.
"Tough crowd," He muttered, seeming rather shocked by my lack of laughter. I didn't even smile.
In the past, I would have reacted in a likewise way to him. Gloxinia and I used to be a pair that went everywhere together when we were younger. We were friends since we could toddle, going to the same pre-school and everything. Where you had Gloxinia, Elizabeth wouldn't be far behind; where you had Elizabeth, you could bet that Gloxinia was there. As children, we had an unbreakable bond. We trusted each other with our very lives.
Then war happened. Gloxinia came back a changed person. I thought that the change was nothing too bad. We still hung out, attended clubs together and raced each other through the sky. Together, we worked really hard on making sure that the Fairy students of Britannia avoided joining Clan Academy and its sister locations. Together, we did everything to oppose the Demon schools. But Stigma failed. We failed. I was sent away.
Now he was here. Changed. Working for the enemy.
"Why are you here, Gloxinia?" I asked, trying to hide the suspicion in my voice. Past me would have trusted him. Past me would see past his new look. But that was past me. This Elizabeth was a little more wise and sensible. "I thought Commandments hated 'goddess scum' like me?"
Hurt flashed across his face. Pure hurt. I found my gut twisting at his expression, protesting against my frosty approach to my former friend. But my brain knew that I couldn't fully trust him yet. Not yet. There was so much on the line that I simply couldn't risk yet. So much that couldn't be lost when I have already so foolishly squandered most of what little I had away. This final plan could not fail; I would not let it fail.
"Not everyone hates you. At least, Drole and I don't," Gloxinia quietly responded, flashing me a sad but brief smile, "But I'm not gonna sugar-coat it for you either, Elizabeth," Gloxinia sighed, shaking his head. He must have seen something on my face. He must have. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to read my thoughts. "You're a student that no-one likes here. Making friends is going to be hard and well... I thought that we could go back to how we were before."
Now it was my turn to give hard truths. To stare at him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, looking much more like my mother than I ever would want to. But it was necessary. Needed. Tough and frosty masks were mandatory in a world that sought to manipulate all weaknesses you had. Wearing a readable face, an open and easy smile, would only result in someone exploiting it. So, if I wanted to succeed, to restore things back to normal, I needed to be closed-off. I needed to master the poker face that so many people seem to wear these days.
"It's not that simple," I stated, deciding to busy myself with sifting through the books on my shelf. Keeping myself busy, occupying my mind, often worked better than trying to redirect my annoyance. Business equaled calmness, keeping a level head that could deal with huge problems - my mother taught me that. That skill had stayed with me throughout my life, even when I had left my old one far behind.
"I know," Gloxinia sighed, hovering beside me as I sorted through books. Not once did he say anything about my habit - point out how it hadn't changed much. Instead he continued, his voice just as calm and quiet. "But that's why I'm here now. I wanted to do you a favour - to prove that we're still on good terms despite everything else that's going on."
Immediately, I paused mid-action, "What favour?"
"We're going to the library," Gloxinia grinned, appearing triumphant as he folded his arms over his chest. He then nodded toward the open door, mischievously raising a brow. "You did say you wanted to stretch your legs, right?"
Elizabeth's P.O.V
Somehow, someway, Gloxinia had wormed his way back into my inner circle once more. Through the bribe of visiting the library - helping me to research - he had knowingly earned some brownie points, softening my already wobbly resolve toward shutting him and Drole out. And he knew that he had. Gloxinia knew exactly what he was doing when he accompanied me out of my room, saying something to two students nearby and then dragging me away from Primrose House.
Along the way Drole had joined our duo, giving me a quiet wave and nothing else as he stuck to Gloxinia's side like glue. Not much had changed about him either: quiet, solemn, large. Tall and towering, he took up quite a lot of space within the halls, having a greater berth than most students I had seen - including those at Danafor and Liones. No-one had ever been as large as Drole; no-one had ever been able to compete with his vast size.
From as far back as I can remember, Drole was someone who stuck out like a sore thumb: bright blue skin, four arms and a secret eye that he often hid within his hair. Someone like Drole - someone who naturally stood out - was hard to miss. They were pretty hard to forget too, especially if you knew them for as long as I did.
Biting my lip, I tried to chase away the distractions that come in the form of long-lost memories. Right now I didn't have time to think about the past; the future was what I needed to worry about. If not, then everything else may tumble into an irreversible chaos.
Carefully, I brushed my fingers against the spines of a few books, silently mouthing the words that were spelled on them. Many were written in the default languages - human languages - for the sake of the human students here. However, occasionally, I would come across a few in my own mother tongue, the language feeling soft and slippery on my tongue like smooth chocolate or a perfectly baked cake. A small piece of who I was returning back to home.
When I came across those books, I tended to pick them up and flick through the pages, lost words becoming refreshed in my brain. Stories about brave heroes, tragedies, lessons, past wars all played within my mind, endless faces and endless voices melding into a symphony of goddess culture and history. Recently the only glimpse of my culture was gained through history lessons - focused on the Holy War and the tensions rising between Britannia's races. Rarely did I get to see the positives, the things I missed most, when I did think of home.
However, goddess books also served as an aid to me. Usually, they contained information on spells and rituals, noting how stories and fiction often linked to real-life cases of such magic being present. One famous example is the tale of a woman trapped within a mirror, forced to watch as face after face peered into her looking glass, asking her questions that she must answer without her will. Truth-telling mirrors, talking mirrors, were an example of magic that seemed to be myth but did exist. Mirrors were the prisons for the worst goddesses of all.
Peering back at Gloxinia and Drole, I sneakily picked up another goddess-written book. None of them could know that I was doing this. Not yet. It would raise too many suspicions and bring up too many red flags. Those were the last things I needed.
Luckily, Gloxinia and Drole didn't seem to pay much mind to my browsing. Instead they were seated at a table, their own small piles of books scattered between them, two sets of keen eyes scanning the pages in the dim light. Soft whispers and a few laughs left the pair every so often, but most of the time they were quiet, appearing to have their own research projects going on between them. If they weren't highly esteemed students in this place, then I would've dismissed them for the studious type. But I knew better.
Independent reading often meant independent digging - away from the watching eyes of authority. A good thing to keep note of.
Returning to my browsing, I let out a sigh of relief. So far everything was going well. I'd gotten into the school, been introduced to my new living situation and had even gained some blackmail material on the Commandments. Even if the blackmail material was a stretch, at least I had something. Something was better than nothing - especially when I didn't have much to springboard off in this place.
Balancing my steadily growing pile of books, I turned on my heel, ready to explore the next aisle of books. With a confident step forward, I stepped into the middle aisle - only to tumble back and drop everything to the floor as I smacked right into two pillars. Cringing from the pain, I winced as a book landed on my foot, the awkward angle of my collision jarring my back a little. It was only when I got to pick up the books, spotted the two objects before me, that I realise they were no pillars.
"You should watch where you're going," A rough voice barked at me, matching the unconstrained snarl it made. Two dark eyes glared sharply into mine, framed by wild blonde spikes of thick hair. "Not everyone's gonna be nice to someone like you."
"Sorry," I hushed out, quickly scrambling to my feet as I collected the rest of my books.
"Don't bother," Derieri spat, roughly barging me out of her way. Carelessly, she trod over one of the books, pressing the spine flat against the ground with her heavy black boots. "Just know that the only reason I'm letting you live is because the three lunatics worship the very ground you walk on. Without them, you would've been mincemeat years ago."
Common knowledge. Something known ever since that fateful day all those years ago, set in the middle of a stormy playing field. That match should have never happened. That fight should have never broken out on the playing field. So many people had been hurt that day. So many people had died that day, crushed in the surge of students trying to escape. In that moment, I had tried to stop it. I really had. But before I could, it was too late.
"Make one slip up, just one," Derieri turned to face me once more, something dark and ominous swirling within her eyes as she glowered at me. At her side two fists balled, twisted into physical interpretations of her wrath. "And I will snap that pretty neck of yours in two - Meliodas be damned."
Paralyzed. I was completely paralyzed in the face of Derieri's words, hissed with such intent that I knew her hatred was real. Unlike the others, their rage a general beam of hatred directed over my entire race, she had a specific vendetta against me. That night, on the playing fields, I made a decision that forever sealed Derieri's opinions on me. Back then I never should have tried to talk to anyone; I never should have tried to speak. I should have just acted.
Hugging the bundle of books close to my chest, I scurried away from the scene - far, far away from Derieri and whatever evil was brewing within her brain. All too quickly I was back at the table with Gloxinia and Drole, books placed on the tabletop and a shaky hand flicking to a fresh page on a notebook that Gloxinia had left out for me. For way too long I remained silent, pale as a sheet of paper, as I stared at the blank page.
"Hey," Gloxinia eventually spoke, his hand on my shoulder. Jolting me out of it - that's what he was trying to do, jolt me out of it. Whenever I got into a panic, Gloxinia would always try to shake me out of it, even when were kids. "Ignore her."
"That's easy for you to say," I managed to respond, an almost sarcastic response as I grabbed a pen and began to write out shaky notes. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took in a deep breath as I gently added, "She's not trying to kill you."
"Yeah, she's not," Gloxinia agreed, his voice a low hum. His gaze slid back toward the bookshelves, fixed onto something I simply couldn't see. Something that I didn't entirely want to see. "But, believe it or not, Derieri was trying to kill me too at one point. She almost succeeded too."
"Oh," Immediately I grew quiet, a blush burning beneath my skin as I focused even more on my notes. Again, I made a silly assumption. Part of me forget that Gloxinia had been an outsider, someone judged with extreme skepticism and prejudice.
"So let it pass," Gloxinia told me, almost as if he were handing me valuable life advice. Resting a hand on his palm, he let out a weary, flowing sigh, "Most of those knuckleheads are just sour because you're here. They all thought that you'd end up like everyone else when they rebelled, tossed and forgotten about at the bottom of the barrel. Nothing else to it, right Drole?"
"Mhm," The giant nodded, fully absorbed within the thick book he held within his large hands.
Slowly, I let Gloxinia's words sink in. Part of his reasoning did come from a sound place - especially since the subject of my expulsion did cause mass discussion. Many students believed that I didn't receive proper punishment for my actions. Many more believed that my mother had grown soft over the years, her own leadership and failure to punishment appropriately being prime example of that. my mere existence here was a problem. Me being here was an issue.
When I first chose to leave Liones behind to come here, I knew that I wouldn't be liked much. Goddess wings were a burden here, capable of flight or not. To everyone here I was a traitor or an enemy. Nothing more and nothing less. Death threats should have been expected - I should have known that they were part of the package. But, I guess, part of me just didn't want to believe that the past was still like a tender wound to some.
"I guess you're right," Nodding, I voiced my agreement but soon returned to my note taking. In these walls, I was the enemy. In these walls, I was not trusted. So I would continue to work alone, gathering what I could before I attempted to save Meliodas.
"You definitely haven't changed Elizabeth," Gloxinia chuckled from his seat, something dancing within his golden eyes. "I hope that means you will send my regards to my sister. She hasn't heard from me in years."
Gerheade. Another victim in this all, losing both of legs as well as one of eyes. That day had been a dark one for those in Gloxinia's community. Even the heavens had mourned with them, endless rain rushing down from the sky not an hour after the terrible news. What happened had been horrific. What happened should hopefully never repeat - not while Gloxinia was around. Not while Gerheade still breathed, living evidence of that tragedy.
"You should know my answer to that already," I responded, gentle and yet firm as I dared to share eye contact with the Commandment. "You can tell her yourself. She's waiting for the day that you do."
"You're right," Gloxinia agreed, nodding as he picked up a book. "But I guess I am too much of a coward to do so."
Just like so many of us here. Just like myself and Derieri.