To Follow a Saint

Have you ever looked in the mirror and thought: I look like if sin was a person.

No? Really? Because for me, it's every damned time.

Where my hair curls into spirals, where my eyes glow, where my skin scars, where my curves hang, all of it looks like a monster of temptation and shame.

I'm a monster of hate and hurt.

Hate being what people say when you try and greet them.

Hurt being what people say when you do nothing but shake their hand.

I have done nothing to them.

But they act as if my presence kills them.

Maybe one day, I'll learn to accept the curse that hangs heavy like a vise on my neck, like a snare on my throat.

Years of loneliness pass inside the dark cell of what I am to be.

"The candle lights the way for those lost to decay. The fire burns at the gate, may all follow their fate. The water flows through the stream, may eyes lay on its gleam. The shadow covers the valley, may all count their tally. The echo hangs in the air, may all fight the tear.

"No one can climb up the wall, for they would all fall."

I look up from my knees at which had gone numb years ago. I look to the figure who stands on the other side of the iron bars. A saint. Wearing a long white robe and holding a metal torch high in his hands. He wears a crest I begged to not have to see again. The crest of their kingdom.

"You chains will break away, depending on where you lay."

"Stop with the riddles, saint." My voice sounds unnatural, three years with nothing but the shadows will do that.

"Choose your side, you piece of hide."

A growl escapes my throat. "What am I to do?"

"To be free, follow me." The saint holds out his slender hand, and a black smoke surrounds him. The chains on my wrists fall away, and I slump forward. Never has my body been let go sense I came here.

The smoke surrounds my body, picks me up like a ragdoll. The iron bars furl like a curtain, and I am pulled through.

He drops me, and I slowly raise my gaze to his eyes. "You freed me..." I stand, my bones cracking like they haven't been in use in a millennia.

"Yes, and now, you are mine." The first words he's spoken without rhyming. At least I won't have to deal with more riddles. "Now, stay perfectly still, or this will hurt more than needed."

His hands are surrounded by that same black smoke, and it enters me through my eyes. It circles through my brain, flowing around like a poison. I don't hear the initial scream, only the echo.

I feel my claws flare out, I feel my horns form like a twisted crown from my head. My tail, which I had long forgotten, pierces through my skin, falling limp behind me. I crumble to the ground, completely limp.

The saint kneels down beside me. "Now, we are one."

The power I have with her now is intoxicating. Maybe this will be easier than I thought. She can't deny me. Not anymore.

I open my eyes, the strange thoughts leaving my head. I'm laying down on my back, and looking up at a ceiling which is painted in a pattern I do not know. The shape of dragons, of stars, of moons, of suns. Beautiful.

A breeze hits the length at which lies behind me. Like a limb new to the world, my tail needs time to adjust. It's scales have yet to form completely.

I sit up, taking in the luxurious room around me, a room fit for a castle. "Took you long enough to wake up." The saint voice rings around before I look over at him.

"What did you do to me?"

"I activated the one thing people fear about you."

"There are a lot of things people fear about me."

"Good." He stands from the chair he so casually laid in before rising. He is still wearing his robe, which seems ironic in the moment. Why would a saint help a beast that his kind locked away? "Because only you have the power to help me."

She startles. "How did you-?"

We're connected, beast. His voice rings in her head, but not around her.

"I'm not a beast." I hiss, barely understanding the situation, but unwilling to let it slip.

"You can kill armies in a blink." He states bluntly. "You are a beast."

"I have a name!" I yell, anger boiling up inside my chest.

"Yes, you are Vivian."

My eyes widen. "What did you do inside my head?!"

"I know everything about you now. I know you want revenge, I know what your father did. I know what you are capable of. And I know how to get you to help me."

I let out a surprised sound, a sense of vulnerability in my mind. I stay silent for a long minute, then whisper, "What can I call you?"

"Kasimir."

Smoke surrounds him, and then floats over in front of my face. It pauses, then enters my eyes once more. I doesn't flinch as my mind leaves me.

She doesn't remember falling in love with a saint. It just happened. The worst part is, he can still see inside her head. He knows exactly how she feel of him.

It's been a year with him now. And she's learned a lot. How to fight alongside him, how to work with him, how to get into his own head.

She's also learned why he wants her. He wants to take down the "holy" order. A night of vulnerability lead to him spilling everything. The "holy" order has been using their gifted magic to curse the royal family. The royal family no longer lives like they used to. No decisions are made by the kind, only the saints get to make the choices now. And they are choosing war.

He hates her. She's loud, obnoxious, and yet kind, and gentle. She's a beast! She has a name. You care for her? She cares for me.

The source that circles his hands is a ever present reminder that he cannot love. He can only care.

He looks over at the bed she lays in, her horns about to poke holes through the pillow once more. He smiles softly, the feeling natural before grabbing the custom made horn gloves and walking to her side.

She snores with her mouth wide-open, and it makes him chuckle. He carefully slides the horn gloves one, protecting all soft material from her horns reach.

She doesn't react, but turns over, her tail wrapping around her waist.

She's dreaming.

This is what their relationship has come to. Forbidden, but never forgotten.

I wake up to screaming. What a sound. A twisted formidable sound. I hum, grinning slightly. That is until I realize who is screaming. I bolt out of the covers, forgetting to change into day clothing, and I run through the manor at which I had memorized.

Left at the statue, left at the glass doors. Straight through the kitchen, and down the spiral stairs. Right at the garden, up the main stairs.

Another scream, much closer. I turn, finding myself in a library, where a little boy, screams in agony, but nothing is around him. This isn't right. I thought-

I thought it was someone else. But who?

That scream...

He screams again, the sound reverberating off the walls, echoing through the hallways. I walk over and crouches down near the boy, who plugs his ears away from the sound. But there is no sound. I put a hand on his shoulder, and it is cold. Strange.

He looks up into my eyes, his a light colored blue. "Do you remember?" He whispers like an echo.

In a blink, he disappears, and I flinch back. I search around me, looking for any sign of the boy.

"Do you remember?" Another echo, this time moving. What is he?

I stand, following after the voice of the boy. I run and run, my ears picking up the sound only enough to follow.

I make it to Kasimir's office, not caring to look inside, considering the fact he would most likely not be in there.

But then again, you could always be wrong.

He sits on the floor, curled up like that boy was. He doesn't look up when I enter. This is where the scream comes from, but now it is distant, like a memory.

I walk over, then carefully slide down next to him.

He still doesn't react.

"T-that boy..." I start, "Is he-?"

"Me? Yes." He answers solidly, not looking up still.

What have you gone through?

Everything.

I'm not sure what takes over my arms, but I lift one and put it over his shoulders, drawing him closer to my side.

He doesn't pull away, and I smile to myself despite his obvious depression.

He takes deep breaths, sounding like he trying not to cry. After a long minute, he wraps his arms around my waist, tucking his face into my shoulder.

My breath hitches, and my arms hesitate from where they were. They finally settle around his shoulders.

When I was younger, his voice echoes in my head, I had the saints magic, but every saint comes with trauma. Years of being hurt by others and myself powered the source. It is what drove me to become the best saint.

I've heard the story by now a handful of times. He ascended to the top, his source the most powerful among his class. But once he learned their plan, he left, vowing to take them down.

But each time he says it, I feel a tug at my heart, each time stronger than the last. I let out a breath, lying my head on his.

"Thank you, Vivian."

"What?" I whisper. He's never thanked me before, and it sounds genuine.

"You heard me."

I smile, my heart soaring slightly. I hug him tighter. "You're welcome."

Arrows and spears. Spears then arrows. Some cut her sides, some miss completely. She roars, letting herself get lost in the chaos. The source surrounds her from a thousand different saints, but it does nothing against her. Her anger and desperation fueling off their magical curses.

He lies completely still under her, his chest only barely rising and falling. The burn on his side glows as it consumes his body.

She needed to get out of there, and fast.

She rears with a mighty roar, and wings sprout from her scaled back, the dark shadowing things looming fear over the saints. She picks up Kasimir in between her jaws and takes flight. He makes no sound of protest, but his breathing is weak and his heartbeat falters. She flies back to his manor, knowing that the place will not be safe for long. She transforms back, crying out in pain as she does so.

Breathless, she runs over to his body, which lay still. She falls to her knees beside him, looking over the wound which spreads like a wildfire.

"Kasimir!" She cups his face, and his eyes flutter open, even the blue in his eyes fades, and it hurts her very core. "You're okay, you're going to be okay."

She shakes violently as a single tear rolls down his cheek. He hisses as the burn travels up, now just below the area of his heart. When it reaches there, he will die.

"Tell me there's a way..." she begs.

"Kill..." he coughs, "kill the saints. Only then will-" he stops to raggedly breath, "will my mission be completed."

"No! You can complete your mission! Kasimir, please..." tears stream down her cheeks.

He hums softly, as if at peace. "You always looked beautiful in the sun."

Her eyes widen, tears in them.

"Maybe... we'll met again. And maybe then, we can love each other right." He lets out a sigh, his eyes dulling further. "I love you, Vivian." He breaths the last words out.

She stays motionless, then in her quiet desperation, grazes his cold lips with hers. Her tears slide down onto his skin, and the burn climbs up his throat, and over his face. It consumes his skin, then shrivels him to ash.

She stands, turning back to look in the direction of the "holy" order. She allows the beast to consume her. Vivian is not needed.

Not for this.