❝𝐈𝐟 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐨, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚.❞
Selfishly fascinated with her own strength, Valen Ferreira is willing to do nearly anything and everyth...
VALEN LOUNGED ON A BOULDER, soaking in the sun as it steadily lowered behind the rolling mountains.
Valen had rolled her sleeves to her elbows and dismantled her bun, her braids resting on her shoulders. Enclosed by colossal pines, wispy shrubbery, and mossy logs rested an ample lake, lustrous in the brilliance of the setting sun.
Everything was peaceful.
A large bird soared across the sky, its flapping figure dipping into the trees. As soon as the meeting ended, Valen had fled headquarters, finding herself wandering the shore after weaving through the trees and stepping over fallen trunks for an undetermined period of time. It was reckless of her, entering the forest on her own— but being on the grounds was not what she needed.
Not when he was there.
As she admired a prancing deer, a tickling sensation coursed through her hand—a monarch butterfly had stilled on her knuckles, gently flapping its orange, scaly wings as it suckled from her skin. Valen cautiously raised her hand to eye level. She recalled the first time she'd seen one—after her memory loss, of course. For once, she'd seen something prettier than the gangly spiders and ugly centipedes that'd crawl out from under her bed at dusk. She treasured the beauty of their patterned wings, the transformation they'd undergone to become the beautiful creatures they were.
But most importantly, she admired their meaning: change.
In the eight years following her memory loss, a myriad of events had arisen, but she always to overcome the circumstances, and she prided herself in that. But they'd had happened apart from another, and she had months, years even to readjust—but when those changes ensued days, hours after each other, Valen was at a loss. Never had she predicted that her nightmares would return, nor that she'd be reassigned to the Special Operations Squad.
Valen pondered on the day she'd enlisted, the day she'd dreamt of for years. When she'd enlisted, she eagerly envisioned the opportunity expecting her, the strength and experience she'd earn fighting alongside humanity's strongest and bravest soldiers. But is this what she wanted? To bear the weight that was humanity's fight for freedom, a weight she didn't wish to carry? What was she doing in the Scout Regiment fighting for people that couldn't care less if she was discovered bloodied and dismembered in a field? Had joining the Scouts truly been in her best interest?
Stop.
There was nothing at the moment she could do to reverse both her enlistment or her reassignment. If the Commander had reassigned her, it was because he'd seen potential in her, and under no circumstances did she plan to disillusion him. No, she'd uphold her status as a distinguished soldier, surpass any and all expectations, and challenge any long-standing prejudices people held towards her.
