Messenger of God

Chapter Seven.

Amara’s long brown hair rustled to and fro, following the path of the wind with an easy urgency. One strand fell gently into her eyes, hiding her chestnut colored gaze from the lowering sun. She stared down at her hand as she snapped two fingers together, watching the flames spark to life before snuffing it out with ease. A furrow etched into the crease between her brows, she continued the motion as she was seated, back to the wall and legs dangling. Every few moments she knocked them gently against the rough surface of the brick building. 

This is exactly how Florence found her. The captain sighed, lifting herself up and onto the large windowsill to take place beside the other girl. Blue eyes turned to watch the girl’s side profile. Admittedly admiring the woman in the golden hour lighting. The slope of her nose and arch of her brow seemingly much more prominent and soft in the basking glow.

“Have you even gotten any sleep, Angelo?” She raised a slitted eyebrow, and brown eyes glanced at her for a moment before returning to the skyline. A long sigh rose from the girls chest as she turned towards the captain before she leaned back, baring her throat in the slightest. Florence copied her position, but kept her chin down turned as they faced each other.

Silence stretched on as she trailed her gaze up the girl's exposed neck, watching as she swallowed a few times before lowering her head to meet the Captain’s blank blue eyed gaze. Whereas every emotion showed on her face, the elusive Captain’s face was unreadable. Amara wondered what it would be like to be able to read the esoteric younger girl. She was brought from her thoughts by a clearing of a throat. Brown met blue in a staccato of colors. 

Florence broke the staring contest first with a tilt of her head, glancing to the side.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she questions,and Amara hums in thought, turning her gaze back to the mass of green before them.

“How much did he tell you?” She questioned, turning her brown gaze back to the girl with a small deprecating smile.

“Nothing, actually. But a meeting with him is usually never good. I would know.” There’s a flash of something in the girl’s eyes but it's gone as quick as it arrived. One day Amara would be brave enough to inquire about the look in those blue eyes.

Amara sighed, she’d like to think that in the time they had known each other, they could call themselves friends. She feels safe with the Captain for some odd reason. Though, this news could quite literally shatter that security that they have.

She eyed Florence for a moment, observing the girl's stiff posture with a low sigh before removing the manila from where it was placed between her clasped thighs. She raised it and offered it to the woman. Really what did she have to lose?  

Florence eyed her for a moment before reaching roughened hands to take the folder. She glanced up once more for approval before opening it with careful hands. Immediately greeted with a photo of a young child, grinning with a missing front tooth. She ran a slender finger over the photo.

“Is this you?” She glanced at the nervous woman and watched the nod that followed. She hummed with a small smile before returning back to the folder in her hands. The silence that followed as she read, flipping through the pages with deft fingers before her eyes paused on one line. Species.

“You… are a half-breed. Huh.” She glanced at the brown eyed girl for a moment before humming and closing the folder and handing it back to its respectful owner.

Amara watched for a reaction, wringing and wringing her fingers in wait.

“What do you think about it?” She didn’t know why, but Amara felt as though she cared about the Captain’s opinion.

Blue eyes regarded her for a moment, glancing between the brown and noticing the worry shining back in them. The girl really did suck at hiding what she was feeling. Every emotion she felt in the moment was reflected back in the kaleidoscope colors of brown.

Florence awkwardly placed a hand on the other’s knee, the warmth of her hand prominent through Amara’s issued black trousers. While unfamiliar, the feeling wasn’t unpleasant. She studied the girl’s hands, her fingers long and slender. Her nail’s were quite the surprise, neatly kept and well trimmed. Small scars adorned the sides of the phalanges, littering with small little nicks and scrapes that told stories of each day that had created the woman in front of her. The Captain cleared her throat and then gave Amara’s knee a small squeeze before leaning back to gaze out to the sun as it set over the distant lands. Her blonde hair was in it’s usual ponytail, but a few strands had escaped and they carried along with the wind in conversation.

“I think it doesn’t make me think much differently of you. You are still annoying as shit and take nothing seriously.” Florence gave an awkward crook of the lips in her direction as she continued, “you being a berserker doesn't make you any less the person you were before. Plus, it’s not as though we didn’t know Berserker's exist. Just thought they were dying out of existence. We knew they used to existed at one point.”

Amara chuckled wetly, swallowing down the tears that had risen, and when Florence lifted blue eyes to her own, a little perfect quirk of her lips that was so so unfamiliar, she sniffled and huffed a laugh.

“They really call them… us, Berserkers? Of all things, why that?”

Florence glanced up, caught off guard by the way Amara was gazing at her. With wettened eyes and lashes, a red nose and gentle eyes. She shook herself from her reverie and awkwardly gripped her own thighs as she spoke.

“Berserker's have somewhat of a long bloodline, there are thought to have been twelve elementals. All from different backgrounds, they contained a mix of elemental and mage magic that as a non-blood, one wouldn't expect. You carry a different type of blood. It appears human, but it is anything but. Berserker blood is seen to be sacred.” The Captain explained and Amara hummed, filing this information into her “good-to-know” folder in her mind.

Pushin’ past the limits, tripping on hallucinogenics.

Amara gave the smaller girl a gentle nudge with her foot, and Florence moved up ad off the ledge, holding out a slender hand to the girl.

Cigarette burned my finger, cause I forgot I lit it.

Amara reached out her own hand, glancing into the sea of blue for a moment before taking the offered hand and allowing her body to be pulled off the ledging. 

Reppin’ with my sinners, cause fuck it, man, I ain’t no beginner. 

Amara misjudges the step and stumbles forward into the Captain, blinking down at the other woman. Blue eyes gaze up and into her own, and Amara noticed the way Florence stared at her, an unrecognizable expression in her eyes. Amara’s own lip’s parted and blue followed the motion.

And then I crawled back to the life, that I said I wouldn’t live in.

A nervous gulp left Amara as the staring contest continued, but it was broken off by a loud shout from across the hall.

“Miss Florence! Miss Amara! Mandatory meeting in the Dining Room! You’ve got ten minutes!” A messenger shouts before turning and running in the direction of the dining hall without awaiting a response. Florence had dropped the girl from her embrace the second she heard the yell and immediately the unrecognizable expression was gone and the regular blank, hardened expression Amara knew slipped back onto her face with ease.

 The Captain nodded in the direction of where the messenger had ran, “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go or Father will have our heads served on a platter.” She turning without further idling as Amara rushed to catch up.

As she ran alongside the Captain, she couldn’t help but think over what had just happened.