Legion

Wretched and Divine

I've spent some time over the last few days since New Year's day wondering what we actually were. We're obviously the rebels, opposing F.E.A.R. but it's not exactly a good versus bad fight.

Not all of us are exactly good, for example, Xenos, but not all of us are that bad, such Marlene and the other girls in my dormitory. So can't really call ourselves good compared to F.E.A.R., but we are obviously better in terms of treatment towards people.

I keep thinking of this while I change along with the other girls in my dormitory and got ready for the day's activities. While jogging to the square where older rebels would teach combat, I ran past Xenos and his friends who were laughing loudly at some girl while she tried and failed to apply her warpaint correctly. I stopped right in front of the group to give them my best death glare, something I perfected while trading supplies in the compound.

Turning around, I went over to the girl who now had hands covered in black face paint and she turned to me glumly, with a dull look in her eyes.

"Hey, do you want me to help?" I ask, smiling at her.

"Yeah. Thanks by the way, for defending me," she responded quietly.

I proceeded to take small handfuls of black paint and painted her face, making it look like the black colour was dripping down her face and accumulating all over her body. I doused her arms and legs in the thin paint, getting my hands covered in the paint.

Fifteen minutes later, a girl in perfectly done warpaint stood in front of me smiling in disbelief.

"Do you like it?" I grinned.

"I love it, how did you know how to do this? You're pretty new here and I've been living here since I was ten," She answered, her face showing uncertainty in my handiwork.

"I don't know," I admitted, my large grin reducing into a small smile.

"Thanks, anyway," she shrugged, turning around to walk over to her dormitory.

I looked at her forlornly as she walked down the hard desert road, her friends running up to her and complimenting her warpaint. She turned around and gestured to me, making her friends look at me in shock, that I, the outsider, can do perfect warpaint. I smiled shyly and waved at them, slowly taking in their gawking expressions.

I turned around and started jogging toward the more prominent house in the middle of the town, its sides slightly brown and dirty from the dust, the seal of the rebels in black paint on its slightly dirty walls. This is where the rebel leaders live, and they only come out during training sessions or during important events. 

They don't get many visitors.

I started having second thoughts once I reach the door, What if The Prophet answers the door? What will I say? What will I do?

My body betrayed me and knocked on the weathered door, waiting for a response. I stood there for a couple seconds, hoping that no one would answer the door so I could get out of here. Right when I decided that no one was home and started to turn around, I heard footsteps from behind me.

"What are you doing here?" a deep voice asked from behind me, and I turned slowly towards the face of the man talking. 

I looked at the serious face of The Deviant and completely lost it, "I-I'm s-s-sorry, I-I just wanted to ask a-a-about s-something that h-h-happened r-r-recently," I stuttered out, tears filling my eyes as I turned my head down, watching the tears fall down get soaked up on the dry desert ground.

"No, no, it's okay, come inside," I heard him blurt out quickly, grabbing my hand and dragging me inside the house, only stopping to close the door behind me.