Chapter 27: Chapter 26: Here, But Far Away

Maria wanted to scream. To shout and scold her daughter for her recklessness.

...But as her little girl curled up in her lap, shaking from whatever nightmares had dragged her from the sleep she had been unwillingly forced into as her mana levels had been depleted.

...She was so small. So light. Even in her little armor, she felt like she barely weighed more than the day she was born. 

Seeing her like this, her eyes open, her body irresponsible, her breathing coming out in whimpers as tears flowed down her face. It frightened her.

Scarlet had been Maria’s world since the day the girl had been born. She was bright, energetic, sweet and showed Maria a level of admiration that made her feel like she could take on the world.

She had always done what she could to set an example for the girl and help her regardless of what crazy thing she tried to do. When she had wanted to learn to weave at the age of 1, Maria supported her. When she wanted to gather magic stones, Maria supported her. When Scarlet had wanted to learn magic, Maria did her best to learn the words as well, even if she lacked the skills needed to cast it. And when Jonathan started to force Scarlet to go to the Slave Camp, Maria had swallowed her fears and walked into the imposing structure with her head held high and a sword at her waist, ready to cut down anyone who dared to lay a finger on her baby girl, be they slave or guard.

Maria had been strong. Among commoners, she was among the top 0.1%, stronger than most of the city guards. She had always hoped that she could use this strength in order to protect her daughter.

...But that fight against the Corrupted Monstrosity had shown her just how relatively weak she was. If she was to compare herself to any of the Nobles in the army, she had been weaker by a sizable margin. Only carried along by the ‘Fairy Lashes’, the magic weapon that her daughter had made for her. Compared to Mehal, she was laughably weak. Even a hundred of her wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“I’m so sorry Scarlet. I wasn’t strong enough to help you.” Maria said, holding her baby close to her. 

(It wasn’t your fault.) Spindle said soothingly, gently brushing Maria’s hair with her new human-like hands. (None of us were prepared for a monster like that one.)

(...Scarlet had been.) Maria said, glancing at the massive crystal that her daughter had been storing mana in for months, now drained of all of his magical energy. Such a massive amount of power spent that the mental fatigue from it had caused the young girl to simply collapse. “I will grow stronger. I will not let anything happen next time. I promise.”

Scarlet didn’t respond. She just continued to mumble rapidly to herself.

Words, or at least sounds, that Maria had never heard before were streaming from her mouth. They were different from the magic words that Maria was familiar with. But it sounded too structured to be mere nonsense.

“Scarlet, please snap out of it. You're starting to scare us.” Sidney whined. “You’re acting like you're possessed or…”

The words didn’t finish leaving his mouth before he was struck hard in the head with a paper fan.

“Choose your words carefully, or don’t speak at all.” Mehal said, his tone threatening as he opened the fan up, hiding most of his scarred face as he looked over the edge down towards the military camp.

A military man was walking up toward them, one of the captains in charge of this company. 

“Sir.” The man saluted in front of Mehal before speaking. “Is everything alright? Is there anything I can do for you and your party?

“We’re fine. Just make sure you keep the fanatics back down at your camp until we recover enough to leave.” Mehal said with a wave of his fan. 

“I wish that was as easy as it sounds.” The soldier said with a sigh. “The Priesthood is in a steer over the girl. I’m not sure how much longer threats of court martial will keep them at bay. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but if you are going to go, please go soon.”

“I’m sorry. Would you mind telling me why the Priesthood would be causing problems over Scarlet?” Charles asked a frown upon his face.

“You don’t know much about the Church of the Earth and Sky, do you?” The captain said, giving the boy an understanding look. “Not surprising. You're too young to have been exposed to much of it, and your grandfather wasn’t a fan of the church. Well, in the Book of Reclamations, Mother Earth descended from Heaven during the battle with the Demon King. She was described as being a beautiful woman with dark red hair, a pure white raven perched on her shoulder.”

“Ah! I know that story!” Raphaela churped before quickly slapping her hands over her mouth, afraid that her teacher would get annoyed with her too.

“In the story, the soldiers who fought against the Demon King’s armies didn’t have to fear death, as the voice of Mother Earth would call them back, even if they were killed.” Mehal said, knowing the story. “They saw Scarlet using powerful healing based skills, and with her red hair and white raven, they probably think she is the avatar of the Goddess or some such nonsense. The same sort of thing happened with your great aunt Jessica. It’s the reason your grandfather has such a beef with the Church… And the former crowned prince… And Master Typhus, the High Elf King, the Merfolk’s Grand Chieftain, the Beastmen’s three elite generals… and several others.”

“Our Duke truly was a dotting older brother who suffered from his little sister having way too many suitors.” The captain nodded his agreement. “Honestly, his love for the girl stretched beyond the realm of family relations.”

The children all gooked at the bluntness of the two, while Maria clutched Scarlet to her chest even tighter in horror. “No way! All those weirdos need to stay away from my daughter!”

“Pure white Bonds often have very strong healing Bond Skills, so people with them inevitably gain the attention of those who are interested in pure things.” Mehal shrugged weakly. “They are praised for their purity, even though they are just people, no different from the rest of us.”

“...I suppose asking for your help clearing out the area is out of the question.” The captain said with a sigh. 

“That it would be. We’ll be lucky if the Hunting Association doesn’t attempt to ban us over this.” Mehal said with a shake of the head. “We’ll be heading up towards the mountain lake in the morning, after I’ve had a chance to rest up and start the molting process. If they are going to ban us after we get back to town, no point in hurrying.” 

One of his Bond Skills, [Molting], allowed him to replace body parts and damaged tissue. A covenant skill to have for someone who can’t always avoid taking serious damage. This wasn’t even the first arm he had ever lost, and was nowhere near as painful as the time he had to replace his kidney.

Give him a month, and he will be as good as new. 

“Can’t be helped. We’ll head back to the field base and report what happened. ...I wish I could tell you that I would snuff out any unwanted rumors that might reach the Hunting Association, but there are too many people for that. Not to mention that people died, so any withheld information could land me court martialed myself.” The man apologized.

“I know. Don’t worry about it. Enough people high up are already aware that trying to hide anything is a waste of effort anyways.” Mehal said, before dismissing the man. “...Maria. I would have liked to hold still until Scarlet regained her senses, but I am afraid we have to get moving. We aren’t in a good position to deal with fanatics.”

“Alright.” Maria nodded, believing that the man probably knew best.

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She didn’t want to be anywhere close to people with such intentions for her daughter.

And so, an hour later, they all started moving again.

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“Please Scarlet, you have to eat.” Maria said, holding up some of the girl’s cookies to her mouth.

Rebecca obediently opened her mouth and chewed slowly on the cookie, but there was little change in her overall demeanor. None of the energy that they were all used to seeing. She looked around them with eyes that were full of fear and a lack of comprehension. 

Who were these people? Where was she? How did she get here? And more importantly, how did she get back home? Back to that safe little micro condo where she could control her world. Where she could simply stay safe in her little bubble. Her comfort zone.

(Scarlet, please snap out of it. Try to remember this world. Try to remember us.) A voice, familiar and strange, echoed inside her head.

It sounded so much like her own voice.

Scarlet? What was Scarlet? Why was the voice calling her that?

The people around Rebecca were talking. Saying things that she didn’t understand in some kind of foreign language. 

One of them was a man, his face horribly burned and scarred, one of his limbs missing. He frightened her greatly. 

Was he the man from that one time? The man they pulled out of the factory bathroom? Was he back for his vengeance against her?

Rebecca moved as far away from the man as she could, squeezing herself into the side of the woman with the giant spider. 

She didn’t know who the woman in the beautiful white armor was, and the giant spider with a human torso was puzzling to her, but for some reason, she felt no fear of them. She only felt the woman’s warmth and a familiar smell that she couldn’t describe.

For some reason, it reminded her of her mother. Of that gentle woman who had held her close at night and who had taught her how to read and write in Spanish, and the sounds of their homeland. The kind mother who had always watched out for her and nurtured her.

Rebecca missed her mother. She missed her so much. “I’m sorry momma. If I had acted sooner, then you wouldn’t have died.” Rebecca cried, hating herself for not rebelling against the factory before it had become too late.

It was something she had never forgiven herself for.

(It wasn’t your fault. You were young and everyone was scared. You were only able to act because you felt you had nothing left to lose.) The voice came again, trying to comfort Rebecca. The girl’s head turned about, trying to find the source of the voice, when she spotted a white raven sitting on the ground just in front of her.

A white… raven.

She’d seen one before, hadn’t she? The day her mother died.

At the time, it had felt like some kind of spiritual sign. Something to let her know that her mother was still with her in spirit. The albino raven had given her some degree of comfort as she retreated into a pseudo faith in order to help her keep going. It had been that sight which had given her the courage she needed to start the fire.

Later, when she had gained some freedom and access to the internet, she had looked up everything she could on white ravens, in the spiritual sense.

They were mentioned in mythologies from all around the world, from the Native Americans to the old Mesopatanian religions.

While black ravens were seen as terrors that were connected to death, white ravens would be viewed as being connected to rebirth, similar to a phoenix.

One of her favorite stories was one from Welsh myth, involving the Goddess of White Ravens, Branwen. She was the Goddess whom Rebecca could identify with the most. Because despite being a beautiful and kind higher beings, Branwen had been like her and her mother. 

Branwen had been tricked into leaving her homeland and had been forced into slavery. The human King she married, whom she had loved with all her heart, had forced her into the kitchen and made her work until she collapsed from exhaustion. The people treating her like mud, despite her being their queen.

Branwen’s story had been a tragic one, where everyone she loved died horribly and the land was consumed in conflict for no reason save for the fact that she was ever born. At the end of the story, she took her own life, going to the underworld to be with her beloved son and brothers, as well as the King, who she still loved regardless of the things he had done to her. 

Though the stories said that she continued to watch over the world through her white ravens, who could travel between worlds and acted as her eyes and ears, and that she would help along the souls of women who suffered similar injustices, guiding them to peace.

To Rebecca, Branwen had been like a patron goddess.

(Scarlet. I might not be a Goddess, but I will always watch over you.) The voice said, moving closer to her and rubbing its beak against her hand. (I will protect you. I promise.)

(...Branwen.)

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