Seated comfortably on top of a white leather cushion that was embedded into the inside sill of her window was the angelic Priestess who found her attention drawn forth, and lips rested in a neutral pout as her mind swirled with visions of her past. Scattered like a puzzle, yet conjoined as if the pieces could fit with purpose.
In another life long ago, the woman wore an off-the-shoulder gown sleeves puffy and gown airy as the diaphanous material clung to her form in a sheer cream white and soft pink. Natural champagne curls fell down the right side of her face, the left tresses pinned back as the rest fell over the middle of her back. She stood tall in her ensemble of entertainment and beauty, heels with pearls and diamonds scattered all over, shimmering at whatever light would catch it. Nails manicured to near perfection, the tips pointed and polished with a blush pink.
The stage behind her was in the shape of a half-moon, the building that offered shelter to the soldiers was dimly lit with a bar in the far back. A burlesque theme with an enchanting symphony of sultry music that came from her red lips. Brilliant eyes that budded into adulthood scanned the row of people who sat at the circular tables, ears pinned back as she watched them stare at her in awe or amazement. This was beautiful. All of her hard work paid off, and it seemed as if her singing might take her somewhere one day… One day.
Bel ended the show with a shimmer of light infused notes to flutter around the room, landing on the shoulders of the audience to immerse them into the theatric act themselves. Behind her was a skilled band in the genre of Jazz, enjoying themselves as they kept their key in range of her own. When the show came to an end, their instruments faded to black with a heavenly noise, and the woman bowed for herself, and clapped for the band behind her.
Off to her beauty room she went, happiness galore on her soft and feminine features, footsteps pitter-pattering all across the hallway that took her to her destination. There were employees who congratulated her for her fantastic show, and others who simply screamed happily. When she stepped into her private room, there was a man who stood there in a simple black suit that was clad to his body; a slim and sleek grey tie, with his hair pulled back in a high pony-tail. His cuffs twinkled with an uncertain magic, something likely taboo.
“Miss Belore. Are you aware of how loved you are by the audience? Thank you for bringing a shred of light to my men. They needed it, especially after…” War. “I noticed your little light trick earlier- are you….?”
Bel was quick to cut him off, gulping hard with furrowed brows. “Thank you, Sir. No. I only sing for the troops, and occasionally dance if it is asked of me. At times I perform tricks, but I am no healer.” For the flawless skin she had, opalescent beneath the sheen of the light in her room, it seemed as if those eyes have seen something terrible- almost an equal to war itself.
The Suited Man frowned and pulled a manilla folder out of his jacket. “Lying will get you nowhere in this world, Miss Belore. I would like to recruit you. The Grand Mender of my Cohort has passed, and none of his students are viable quite yet. They are too young, or can barely hold responsibility themselves- let alone, a single decision and opinion. Your people need you.”
Bel frowned and dropped her shoulders. “Of course, Sir. I will start tomorrow.”
The man smiled and nodded, making his way to the door as a hand lightly tapped her shoulder. “Great job, again. See you tomorrow.” Just like that, he vanished into thin air and the sound of the door closing behind her could be heard- yet no body was to be found.
Bel snapped back to reality, shaking her head as she wondered where her life began and would end. With so many memories missing- an entire life, really, she was confused. Where was she to begin, or where was she to end the madness? With recent outings with Dazen and the people they met on their trip camping, what else was there? She wanted to know more. Only fragments of her past were given to her by the now-late Patriarch Heartsworn. None that could give her the answers she needed.
All she knew was that she hated half of what was inside of her right now, and there had to be a way to take the corruption out of her- how did she become one with the shadows, anyway? She was a woman of grace- of light. A woman whose faith was the light, and nothing else. What was she going to do?
