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Beatrice panted heavily, blood dripping down her arm and the divinium sword onto the ground. She could feel the stab wound on her thigh and the cut on her arm starting to stitch itself back together, and she bit her lip at the strange, unworldly pain of that phenomenon. Not for the first time, she wondered: was this how Ava felt, every time she healed?
Beatrice was turning to leave when she caught a glimpse of her reflection on a window a few feet away, and she froze.
The golden glow from the halo on her back was starting to fade, but it was enough to illuminate the burn scars across half her cheek, and the long, twisted lines of scars on her arms. Her hair was a mess around her face, the bun she had started the night with falling apart.
What you are is beautiful.
Beatrice gritted her teeth and turned away.
Across the empty plaza, the Sisters of the OCS were picking themselves up amid the scattered unconscious bodies of the formerly possessed. Beatrice did a quick scan, and noted with relief she couldn’t quite feel that the Sisters were mostly only worse for wear, and that no one was in need of serious medical attention.
“What the hell was that?” she snapped, making the Sisters jump. “Why the fuck did you break formation?”
Everyone avoided her eyes, except for Camila. Camila took a step forward and opened her mouth.
“I don’t want to hear any excuses,” she warned, glaring at all the Sisters and avoiding Camila’s eyes. “As punishment for your mistakes, you are doing a 10km run tomorrow morning at five.”
Some of the Sisters groaned.
“But Beatrice—“
“No excuses!”
The Sister who spoke clammed her mouth shut.
“Now head back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
No one asked how Beatrice was going to get back to Cat’s Cradle. They were used to it by now. Even Camila hesitated only for a few seconds before she turned to join the others.
Beatrice stalked into the opposite direction, needing to walk off her rage before she started heading back herself. Nothing had gone according to plan, again. They could have lost someone, again.
She had barely covered a block when she heard footsteps appear suddenly behind her. She whipped around, her sword ready.
Lilith raised an eyebrow at the blue, glowing sword. “You’re getting faster.”
Beatrice lowered her sword with a scowl. “What do you want, Lilith?”
Lilith gave Beatrice a good look, her eyes lingering on the blood still visible on Beatrice’s arm and pants. The orange streetlights probably did not illuminate much, but something told Beatrice that Lilith didn’t need light to sense blood.
“Yet, you’re taking more hits,” Lilith remarked, almost casually. “I can’t decide if you’re getting better or worse at this.”
“I’m getting the job done,” Beatrice said, pushing down her annoyance and not quite succeeding, “and I’m walking away. That’s all you need to know. The Halo is not at risk.”
Lilith’s eyes narrowed. “Is it not? You’re alone. Your scars tell me you’re not healing right. One day you won’t be able to walk away.”
Beatrice smiled coolly. “Then I’ll go down fighting.”
Lilith only stared at her for a moment. Her nod was barely perceptible. “I’ll be there when that day comes.”
“Why?” Beatrice asked, her voice bitter. Did Lilith want to take the Halo back, after all this time? Not that Beatrice minded, really. She wouldn’t mind if Lilith took it out of her right now and killed her.
Lilith’s gaze was inscrutable, though Beatrice thought she saw a hint of sadness in them.
“Because we monsters have to stick together.”
Lilith teleported away, leaving Beatrice standing alone in the middle of a deserted street.
Beatrice took a shaky breath. Then, she turned around and kept walking into the night, a single tear falling down her cheek.
*
Ten months ago
Beatrice tried to go through some breathing exercises after she got on the cab at the airport, knowing that it was still an hour’s drive to Cat’s Cradle. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking, and her mind and her heart and her everything was in a mess.
She wasn’t sure how she got herself on a plane. She wasn’t even sure if she had told Hans that she was taking a few days off, that she didn’t leave anything turned on in her apartment in the Alps. It wasn’t the same apartment that she and Ava shared, but it was now similarly abandoned at a moment’s notice after a call from the OCS.
She really shouldn’t get her hopes up. The Halo came back without Ava, after all.
It wasn’t even glowing like it should, Camila had said. It was just… an old piece of metal now. None of them would have even thought it was real but for the fact that it appeared in a burst of blue and silver right in the middle of the dining hall in the OCS. All the Sisters had seen it with their own eyes.
There was no other explanation for it — the Halo came back. Without Ava, without any explanation or clue as to what the hell happened on the other side.
Beatrice, to her shame, had hesitated when she heard the news. It was for all of ten seconds, but she hesitated nevertheless.
Ava had told her to live her life, and Beatrice had tried. For two months, she had tried. She had moved back to the Alps, to her old job if not her old apartment, to the acquaintances whom she had hoped would become friends, at some point. She had forced smiles and said yes to dinners and drinks when no part of her felt like it, when all she wanted was to curl into a ball and cry her heart out (although she did that too). She had gotten into a routine, and some days she felt like she was even getting close to enjoying it, that she was getting close to the kind of living that Ava wanted her to have.
But it was the hardest thing that Beatrice had ever had to do. Ava was in every corner of Beatrice’s mind and every second of her day. Her presence lingered in the additions she made to the bar menu, the scribbles on the sketchbook that she had left behind, and in the questions from their regulars.
Beatrice was, if she was being honest, barely holding it together. The fact that it was only the Halo that came back and not Ava was why Beatrice hesitated. Why disrupt all the progress she had made for what felt like nothing at all?
That thought lasted for all of ten seconds, before the tiniest sliver of hope squashed all logical thought of the way. Beatrice had to know what happened, had to figure out why the Halo came back. If there was even a minuscule chance of Ava coming back, Beatrice would take it.
And thus, Beatrice was now in a cab, trying and failing the breathing exercises that she had taught Ava barely months ago.
The cab driver must have thought Beatrice was crazy. When they finally arrived at Cat’s Cradle, he said a hasty goodbye, the car speeding away even as Beatrice was trying to get her bearings.
The Sister at the gate was expecting her, and Beatrice was ushered inside quickly. They went straight to Mother Superion’s office, and the door opened with barely a knock.
Camila threw herself at Beatrice. “Beatrice! Welcome back!”
Beatrice somehow found it in herself to hug back. “Hello, Camila. It’s good to see you.”
When Camila stepped away, Mother Superion was waiting. To Beatrice’s shock, Mother Superion pulled her into a hug too. “Beatrice.”
“Mother.”
Mother Superion patted Beatrice’s back twice, and let go. “It’s good to see you. Let’s not waste time. Here it is.”
Mother Superion gestured at a wooden case in the middle of her desk. It surprised Beatrice how small it was. The box was smaller than a hardcover book. The Halo’s power and burden felt so large that Beatrice forgot that the Halo itself was small, small enough to fit into the back of someone too young and too small to carry the world on her back.
Her hands were shaking as they undid the clasp on the case. When it opened, they all gasped.
Beatrice stared at the pulsing, yellow glow emanating from the Halo. “I thought… I thought you said it’s not glowing?”
“It wasn’t,” Mother Superion said, shock laced through her voice.
“We’ve checked, over and over,” Camila was saying. “We kept the case open the whole time during the first day. Many Sisters had seen it, many had gotten close. None of them — is it — is it reacting to you, Bea?”
Beatrice felt tears in her eyes. Was it reacting to her? Did Ava send this across realms to Beatrice? “I don’t— I don’t know.”
“It’s not our code,” Mother Superion muttered.
“Not morse code, either,” Camila said, still staring intently at the glowing and pulsing Halo. “The pulse is at a regular interval. Bea, can you go outside for a minute? I want to see if it’s really reacting to you.”
Beatrice felt reluctant, which was silly, because the Halo was right here, and Camila and Mother Superion were not going to keep it from her. But seeing this — seeing this stirred something in Beatrice. Something that felt suspiciously possessive, and Beatrice didn’t want to let it out of her sight even for a second.
Camila tugged Beatrice’s arm. “Just for a minute, Beatrice. You can wait outside the door.”
Beatrice nodded slowly, and dragged her feet out. She paced outside the door for a minute before Camila called her back in again. This time, she saw it with her own eyes.
The Halo was a dull gray until Beatrice stepped into the room. A gentle, golden glow started pulsing when she got near, exactly like how divinium reacted around a Halo-bearer.
The three of them were silent as Beatrice stopped in front of the desk again.
“It is reacting to you, Bea,” Camila said, somewhat unnecessarily.
“How?” Beatrice asked, her own voice feeling distant. This question felt unnecessary, too. Who would know how? This had never happened before.
Mother Superion took a deep breath after a moment of silence. “Camila, go over the books again. I know this has never happened before, but look for clues about the Halo’s function. See if there are leads we can follow up on.”
“Yes, Mother,” Camila said, her voice quiet. It was a stretch, and they all knew it. “How about Dr Salvius? I know she’s still grieving for her son, but she knows a lot about —“
Urgent footsteps hurried down the hall, and they all turned to see a Sister, still in battle gear, knock on the open door. “Mother Superion!”
There was blood on the Sister’s hands, and Mother Superion crossed the room in a few strides. “What happened?”
“The mission — it went sideways. Sister Dora and three other Sisters are injured,” the Sister reported, tears in her eyes.
“Is the medical team attending to them?” Mother Superion asked, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Do we need to call in extra help?”
The girl — and really, she was so young, younger than Beatrice remembered being as a rookie — was shaking. “I don’t— I don’t know. Sister Dora was leading the mission, I don’t know…”
“Calm, you did well,” Mother Superion gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s go to the infirmary and see what they need.”
Beatrice exchanged a look with Camila, who had silently closed and locked the wooden case, cutting off its glow. The two of them followed a few paces behind as Mother Superion led the way to the infirmary.
When they got there, Beatrice paused in shock. There were typically eight beds in the infirmary, but now the number had gone up to twelve, with the beds squeezed closer to each other. Half of them were filled with patients.
Dora, to their relief, was sitting up and waving at them with a weak smile. Her left arm was in a sling, and there were traces of blood on the bandages on her right leg, but she seemed fine, at least.
Beatrice tugged Camila’s elbow as Mother Superion went ahead to talk to Dora. “Camila, when did — when did the new beds get added? They weren’t here two months ago.”
Camila’s face was grim. “About a month ago. We needed them. Adriel is gone, but he brought too many demons over before that. With our ranks so depleted and filled with mostly rookies, we’ve been seeing more casualties lately.”
A dreaded question lingered on Beatrice’s tongue, and she didn’t know how to ask it.
Luckily, Camila knew her well. She placed a hand over Beatrice’s. “We haven’t lost anyone, thankfully. But I fear…” Camila turned to scan the half-filled infirmary, “… that it’s only a matter of time.”
Beatrice had nothing to say to that. Camila gave her a sad smile, and went to offer comfort to the injured Sisters.
Beatrice… didn’t know any of them. They were all new faces, people that Beatrice had refused to train. Yet leaving them now felt wrong, somehow. So she stood stoically by the door to the infirmary, hands behind her back, as she waited for Mother Superion and Camila to complete their rounds.
The walk back to Mother Superion’s office was silent. Camila had to leave to take care of some other matters, so it was just the two of them who were walking back.
“Where is Yasmine?” Beatrice suddenly asked. Yasmine was perhaps the only other familiar face that she had not seen.
“She’s at the Vatican, acting as my representative to the new Holy Father.”
Beatrice nodded. “I see.”
It was a little surprising, but Yasmine would be able to hold her own, and she was someone who knew a lot about the OCS. It suited her.
When they reached Mother Superion’s office, Beatrice couldn’t wait any longer.
“Mother Superion, why didn’t you tell me that the OCS is struggling?”
Mother Superion sat down behind her desk, her face drawn with weariness. “Beatrice, while you will always have a place here, you renounced your vows to build a life of your own. I will not take that away from you.”
Beatrice swallowed as she sat down across the older woman, her eyes brimming with tears. “I would have come back if I had known. I want to help. You’re still… you’re still family.” Probably the only ones I have left, Beatrice thought.
“I know, that is why I cannot ask.”
Beatrice looked down, and felt a few tears fall into her lap. She wiped the corners of her eyes impatiently.
“How have you been, child?”
Beatrice could not look up. She was sure that if she saw the same care in Mother Superion’s eyes that she had heard in her voice, she would break down entirely.
Instead, she cleared her throat. “I… I’ve been better.”
Mother Superion was silent for a moment. Then, a sigh. “You miss her. We all do.”
Beatrice nodded, feeling fresh tears fill her eyes.
“We miss you too,” Mother Superion said.
Beatrice whimpered, and couldn’t hold it back anymore. She started sobbing, hugging herself tightly. It had been hard, trying to move on when Ava occupied her every thought. It had been so hard, being around people who hadn’t known the way Ava’s smile could light up the room, and who didn’t know how much Ava had sacrificed for all of them. It had been so fucking hard, trying to ‘live her life’ when she felt dead inside.
Being back here again, her brokenness and grief being seen so plainly, was almost a relief.
And when Mother Superion wrapped her arms around Beatrice, Beatrice let go.
She cried, and cried, and cried.
*
Beatrice had cried so much that day that she could not have fathomed that she would be in the same position two days later.
And yet here she was, sobbing and shaking in Mother Superion’s arms, this time covered in blood. Some of it was her own, from a cut on her arm. But most of it was Sister Rosalind’s blood. Young, curious Sister Rosalind, barely nineteen years old.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice repeated, wracked with guilt this time instead of grief, “I’m sorry…”
“It’s not your fault, Beatrice,” Mother Superion said, her voice tight with worry.
Beatrice could not see how it wasn’t. She was rusty, she had not been training much beyond the occasional runs in the past two months. She was distracted by the stupidest thing — a glimpse of the yellow street light in the heat of the battle, looking so much like the glow of the Halo at an angle — and missed the chance to stop the knife from plunging into Sister Rosalind’s chest.
Sister Rosalind was now on life support, and it was all Beatrice’s fault. Beatrice should not have volunteered for the mission, she should not have been blinded by hubris and thought that she was in the right mind to lead a mission in the field. She should not have done that out of guilt for not helping out earlier. And she certainly should not have done it because she couldn’t stand to be in the same room as the Halo that did nothing but pulse in a yellow light and stubbornly refusing to reveal anything more.
“Go clean up,” Mother Superion said some time later. Beatrice had no idea how much time had passed. “I’ll send Camila with some food to your room. Go.”
Years of obeying Mother Superion’s orders pushed her to her feet, and she somehow managed to find her way back to the guest room and went through the motions of cleaning up.
Camila greeted her with a hug after she set Beatrice’s dinner down at the desk, but Beatrice couldn’t bring herself to talk. The only reason Beatrice ate dinner was because Camila simply sat and stared at Beatrice until she started eating.
After Camila left, Beatrice lowered herself to the floor and hugged her knees. She kept her gaze on the open case on the desk, still pulsing in a steady glow.
The sky outside the window was an inky black by the time Beatrice finally voiced her thoughts out loud.
“Why, Ava?” Her voice was hoarse. “Did you send this back? Are you trying to tell me something?”
The Halo kept on pulsing, infuriatingly unresponsive.
Beatrice looked down, at the darkness beneath the desk. “I don’t know what to do. You told me to live, and I tried, I really tried. But it hurts … it… fucking hurts to live without you.”
She glanced up quickly at the Halo, and back down again. “I know this isn’t what you wanted for me, but the OCS needs me. My… my family needs me. They’re the only ones I have left.” She wiped her tears roughly.
“I say that as if I could actually help,” she continued bitterly, chuckling without humor, “I failed them today. Got someone — almost got someone killed. I failed you too. I couldn’t protect you. I’d trained so hard before, but none of it was enough. I’m never good enough.
“What should I do, Ava?” She sniffled. “Tell me what to do!”
The yellow glow pulsed steadily.
Beatrice didn’t know how long she sat there, sobbing quietly. When she looked up again, her eyes were blurry, and the glow from the Halo was softened against the night.
She pushed herself unsteadily to her feet, using the bed and the chair as handholds. She slumped forward at the desk, her hands barely managing to grip the edges of the desk in time. The cut on her left arm stung sharply, but she pushed that out of the way.
In the quiet of the night, the Halo was beautiful. Beatrice hadn’t really looked at it before. Not properly. Now she did. She noted the designs etched in the rings, the few chipped edges, the tiny dark smudges that might have been blood. That might have been Ava’s blood.
She blinked, and rubbed her eyes. Staring at the pulsing glow was doing something strange to her eyes.
She looked again. This was something that had been inside Ava for months. This might be the closest thing she had to Ava now.
Her fingers traced the Halo, feeling the slight warmth that pulsed in time with the glow on her fingertips. Ava had said once that the Halo felt a little warm, that she no longer got cold easily because of it.
“Why are you responding only to me?” Beatrice asked, not sure if she was talking to the Halo, or to Ava. “What are you telling me?”
A memory slipped through, unbidden: “Take the Halo, Beatrice,” Ava had said on that fateful day. “Take it.”
Beatrice had refused then, because taking it would mean ending Ava’s life. But now Ava was gone, the OCS was a mess, and Beatrice was not strong enough to protect the only family she had left.
Was this why it came back? Was this why it responded only to Beatrice?
Beatrice straightened up. With shaking hands, she pulled her shirt over her head and flicked it onto the bed. She took the Halo from the case, her heart hammering in her chest.
“Take the Halo, Beatrice.”
She twisted her arm, and brought the Halo to her back.
It burned.
Beatrice screamed, and passed out.
*
Mother Superion was furious. She had been yelling at Beatrice for a few minutes now.
Beatrice sat numbly on the same chair where Mother Superion had held her. She stroked her left arm absently. The cut that was there hours ago had healed, leaving only a faint scar behind.
Mother Superion slammed her cane against the desk. “Are you even listening to me?”
Camila jumped from where she stood beside the desk, but Beatrice’s eyes flicked to the new chip in the desk impassively.
“It doesn’t matter, it’s done,” Beatrice said, fidgeting a little. It was strange to feel something stuck in her back. It was even stranger to not feel any warmth at all, nothing like what Ava had described. “The Halo healed my injury, so we know it works. I should start training with it.”
“You don’t have to,” Mother Superion said, her voice quieter. When she turned her head, Beatrice caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. “It’s not your job.”
Beatrice couldn’t deal with Mother Superion’s devastation and Camila’s heartbreak anymore. She stood up. “With all due respect, now that I’m the Halo-bearer, it is my job.”
She left, and started training.
She trained all day, testing what the Halo granted her (phasing, improved strength and speed, but nothing — not after nights and nights of trying in her room — nothing that came close to levitation), and trying to get back into form. She trained by herself mostly, but joined the other Sisters after a few days.
The Sisters were both awestruck and a little intimidated by her. Beatrice could not find the patience that she used to have with recruits, not when she realized that their lives were literally in her hands now. Being their Halo-bearer was a far heavier responsibility than just being their instructor.
Over a week later, they got their first report of demon activity.
Beatrice gasped when she saw the first wraith demon with her own eyes. The sheer wrongness and ugliness of it shocked her, even though she had seen Shannon’s drawings of them before. It made her more in awe of Ava, who had seen such evil and still decided to fight in the end, even if she had never signed up for anything that came remotely close to this.
When Beatrice killed her first demon and saw it explode into nothingness, she smiled.
Finally, something that felt right.
*
After Beatrice’s third mission as the Halo-bearer, Lilith showed up out of the blue, scaring the souls out of the Sisters around them. Beatrice sent the Sisters away while Lilith watched impassively.
“What do you want, Lilith?”
“I had been sensing the Halo’s power, much fainter than it used to be,” Lilith said, scrutinizing Beatrice. “I didn’t realize that it was you.”
Beatrice grimaced. “Yes, it’s me.”
“How did it happen?”
Beatrice hesitated for a second, and decided that there was no risk in telling Lilith. If Lilith knew more about why it might have happened, Beatrice might even get some answers. “A small portal opened in the middle of the dining hall at Cat’s Cradle, and only the Halo came through.”
“Just the Halo?”
Beatrice nodded grimly.
“And you decided to take it?”
“It responded only to me, for reasons I do not yet understand,” Beatrice gritted her teeth. “The Sisters needed a Halo-bearer.”
Lilith sighed. “You had been the Next in Line, technically.”
“I don’t care about being the Next in Line,” Beatrice snapped, “I never wanted this.”
“And so it seems the streak continues — the Halo only goes to those who don’t want it,” Lilith said, the barest hint of bitterness in her voice.
“Do you still want it?” Beatrice asked, her hand tightening around the grip of the divinium sword. She couldn’t let Lilith have it, not one of her last connections to Ava.
Lilith’s face twisted in disgust. “No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To find out what’s happening with the Halo. I told you that a Holy War is coming. You will be a key player in that, whether you like it or not.”
Beatrice really couldn’t care less about this supposed Holy War right now. “Let it come to me, then.”
Lilith raised one eyebrow slightly. “Don’t get cocky. The Halo is much weaker in you than it had been.”
Beatrice’s heart sank. She had sensed that. She had a few new scars now, even though Ava had never gotten scars after being healed by the Halo.
“I am just doing what I can,” Beatrice finally said, a sudden weariness weighing her down.
Lilith was silent for a moment. “I know,” she said with a nod. “I’ll see you around, Warrior Nun.”
After Lilith teleported away, Beatrice let out a shuddering breath.
Her hands shook, and her heart shattered into pieces yet again when she realized that Lilith had addressed her, not Ava.
*
The next few months were… a blur.
It was a relentless cycle of training and mission and training and mission. Beatrice pushed the recruits harder than ever, needing them to be more in sync with her during missions. Any mistakes or slacking infuriated her, because those could cost lives, and Beatrice could not lose another person. She could not, damn it.
She got better at controlling the Halo’s powers, though it was decidedly underwhelming. It was weaker than Beatrice had expected, just as Lilith had said. She couldn’t do half the things that Ava had learned to do in half the time, and it infuriated her even further. (Yet part of her understood. No one could ever compare to Ava, not even herself. Maybe especially herself.)
Camila tried to help, tried to offer her company. But Beatrice wouldn’t let her. She feared that Camila, with her caring and cheer and kindness, would break the carefully constructed hold Beatrice had on herself and cause her to break into pieces when she could least afford to. (She was the Warrior Nun, she couldn’t break. Not anymore.)
Mother Superion was cold and business-like with her, and Beatrice was truthfully relieved at that. She could deal with a Mother Superion who meant business.
That was true until around six months after Beatrice had gotten the Halo, when she had woken up in the infirmary with a searing pain across half her face and arm.
Mother Superion sat next to her bed, her head bowed.
“Ow,” Beatrice exclaimed, bringing her good hand up to feel the bandages around her face. Her mind pulled up jumbled memories of fires and burning buildings, nothing quite making sense just yet. “What happened? Am I — am I not healing?”
“You are, just slowly,” Mother Superion said, her eyes the saddest that Beatrice had ever seen. “You almost died, Beatrice. You pushed Sister Valin out of the way, and was crushed by a burning pillar. Your injuries were much more severe when you were brought back, and you’ve been unconscious for three days.”
Beatrice blinked slowly. Yes, a possessed villager had knocked over some candles, sparking a fire. Everything had dissolved into chaos after that.
“I see. Was anyone else hurt?”
“No.”
Beatrice nodded, exhaling in relief.
“You almost died, Beatrice,” Mother Superion snapped, “do you have anything to say to that?”
Beatrice stiffened a little, grimacing at the pain radiating up her arm and face. “I did what I had to do.”
“No,” Mother Superion said firmly, “you did not have to take everything on by yourself. Don’t think that I don’t read the reports or talk to the Sisters. You lead a team, but at the first sign of danger you send them back, and take on everything yourself. That was why no one else was around to help Sister Valin that night.”
“If they had stayed, they would have been the ones who got hurt—“
“Or they could have pulled you both to safety!” Mother Superion stabbed her cane at the floor. “Have you forgotten everything I taught you about trusting your team?”
Beatrice turned away, even though that pulled at her face and it hurt. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt. I thought you, of all people, would understand that.”
Mother Superion let out a deep sigh. “I do. But I’ve handled that badly. With myself, and with Ava.”
Beatrice clenched her fist, her heart aching sharply. They didn’t really say Ava’s name out loud. Not anymore.
“I’ve lost enough of my girls,” the older woman said, almost in a whisper, “I’m not losing any more. And that includes you.”
Something stirred within Beatrice’s heart, an ache to be held and protected. But everything else was too big, too overwhelming.
“I’m the Halo-bearer,” Beatrice said instead.
“Yes, against all common sense,” Mother Superion snapped, still mad at how Beatrice took the Halo.
Beatrice felt tears fill her eyes. “It was the only thing that made sense at the time. The Halo responded only to me. The OCS needed help.”
“We could have—“
“It reacted to me, Mother! Only to me. What was I supposed to do? What if it was Ava trying to tell me something? This is the only connection to her that I have left!”
Mother Superion was quiet as Beatrice wiped her eyes.
“I was selfish,” Beatrice continued, propelled by momentum, “I wanted to know what it’s like. To feel how Ava felt. But it didn’t work. It’s silent and it’s cold, Mother! Ava said it’s supposed to be warm, but I’m so cold,” she sobbed, “I’m so cold inside.”
The burns on her cheek stung when she cried. It made her cry harder, and it only hurt more. Mother Superion was silent as she stroked Beatrice’s hair, offering cold comfort.
*
Later, when she was released back to her room, she took off the bandages on her face and arm carefully. She didn’t think much of it, but when she went to brush her teeth, she froze at her reflection in the mirror.
The burn scars were harsh and red, covering almost her full left cheek and the left side of her forehead. Her forearm and the edge of her palm had similar gnarly scars.
These wouldn’t heal further, she knew. The Halo had already stopped working on them.
Her fingers shook as she traced the scars softly.
What you are is beautiful.
She howled and punched the mirror, shattering it and cracking her knuckles.
*
Present day
She should have known that it would come to this. Her dying alone, about to be torn apart by a swarm of the possessed.
It reminded her of Mary, and it comforted her, to know that she wasn’t the only one to end up like this. She was following the footsteps of someone respected and beloved, and perhaps she would be remembered similarly.
The pounding on the door intensified, and Beatrice knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the possessed crash through the door and tear her apart. At least she had sent the other Sisters away in time, when she realized that it was a swarm that awaited them instead of the few that they had prepared for.
Blood was pouring through the stab wound on her abdomen, and from various other places on her that she had lost track of. At this rate, perhaps she would even pass out before the door got knocked down. Maybe that would be a form of mercy.
She whimpered — if only accepting her death meant that it would stop the fucking pain — and doubled over. Pain lanced through her middle, so overwhelming that she was about to topple over.
But then — a flash of orange appeared in the periphery of her vision.
Hands, strong and firm, closed around her shoulders.
Then an unpleasant twist in her gut — she had felt like this once before, at the Vatican, a lifetime ago — and the room around her disappeared.
When she fell, it was into gentle arms. When she blinked, she saw a glimpse of grass and the night sky, and Lilith looking more gentle than she had ever seen her.
“Li…Lilith?”
“You’re not healing. I told you that one day you won’t be able to walk away,” Lilith said, somehow sounding like her normal self.
Tears fell from Beatrice’s eyes. “And I told you I’d… I’d go down fighting.”
Lilith sighed. “You always keep your promises.”
Beatrice smiled weakly. Lilith had kept hers too, to be here with her at the end. She felt better, knowing that she wasn’t dying alone, even if Lilith’s arms was the last place she would have imagined it to be.
Lilith simply held her as Beatrice gasped and shuddered, feeling life seeping away from her. Tears kept falling from Beatrice’s eyes, and she didn’t understand. She had made peace with this, hadn’t she? She had been so tired for so long, wasn’t this the rest that she had wanted? Why wouldn’t her tears stop?
“Don’t be sad, sister,” Lilith said, to Beatrice’s shock. But when Beatrice squinted, she could see the shine of unshed tears in Lilith’s eyes. “It will be over soon, and you’ll move on to the next.” Lilith stroked Beatrice’s hair back, and Beatrice almost closed her eyes at the comfort. “You won’t have to worry about duty or the Holy War anymore. Maybe you’ll even find Mary, and — and Ava.”
Beatrice grimaced, recalling a conversation from a long time ago. “She sa—said there’s nothing.” She gasped for air. “Nothing in the — in the after.”
I want to live, Beatrice realized with a start. She blinked away fresh tears.
She was tired and heartbroken and lost, yes, but she had a purpose. She had people she was looking after, people she was fighting for. And she had, even after everything, the tiniest sliver of hope that Ava was coming back to her.
I want to live, Beatrice thought to herself, fear and regret filling her being.
“At the very least, you can rest,” Lilith tried to say, though Beatrice could see the tear tracks on her face now, silvery in the moonlight. “I must confess, I am envious of you. I wish I could rest, too. But monsters like me are hard to kill.”
Beatrice stared at Lilith, at the scales on her face, her neck and arms. Lilith, who had brought her here so that Beatrice could have a more dignified death, so that she wouldn’t die alone.
“You’re not… a monster.”
Lilith laughed, and it rang hollow with despair. “If I am not, then you mustn’t think of yourself as one too.”
Beatrice smiled weakly. Monster or not, did it matter, at this point?
Lilith stroked her hair again. “Did you realize, sister, that we were both the youngest recruits to the OCS? I held the record, yes, but it was because of my family. You were the next youngest recruit.” Her smile was tight. “Isn’t it funny that we had trained our whole lives to be holy, only to end up like this?”
Beatrice shuddered out a laugh, feeling Lilith shake with a silent laugh of her own.
“You can… you can rest, too,” Beatrice said, putting the last of her strength into this because Lilith needed to hear it, she had needed to hear it for a long time. “Go home. To Mother. Camila. You can… rest there.”
Lilith shuddered. “I’m not sure about that.”
“Please, sister,” Beatrice closed her eyes, knowing that these were her last words, “one last… favor from me. Go home.”
Darkness was taking over all her senses. But she could still hear.
“Okay, Bea. I’ll go home. We’ll go home together.”
Good. Perhaps she could set one last thing right.
Just when the darkness was becoming overwhelming, it was pushed back. A familiar orange glow grew from the corner of her consciousness, bringing warmth along with it.
Was this heaven?
Then a shout. It sounded like her name. Then —
“Oh fuck Reya!”
And then there was nothing.
*
When Beatrice opened her eyes, she wondered yet again if she was in heaven. It was bright, and warm. She didn’t hurt anymore, and she was on a soft bed. There was even birdsong from somewhere in a corner — a window, maybe.
“There you are, you sleepyhead.”
Beatrice turned sharply. She blinked, not believing her eyes.
Ava — her Ava, was sitting next to her bed, smiling at her and holding her hand. She looked like she did when they were in the Alps, before the thought of an imminent battle etched a permanent seriousness to her brows.
Just then, though, Ava frowned. “Bea? Can you hear me?”
“Ava,” Beatrice rasped, still too shocked to say anything else. Was she — was she dead?
Ava straightened a little. “Right, you must be thirsty! Let me get you some water, you’ve been asleep for two whole days—“
Beatrice gripped Ava’s hand and stopped her from pulling away. “You’re here.”
Ava’s face softened, and she moved closer again. She brought Beatrice’s hand to her lips, and kissed it gently. “I’m here, Bea. I’m back.”
Beatrice tried to push herself up. She couldn’t feel any of the injuries from earlier, but there was a certain fatigue deep in her bones, and she didn’t feel as strong as usual. But Ava’s arm was strong as she wrapped one arm around Beatrice’s back and helped her up.
When Beatrice felt steady, she pulled Ava to the bed and into her arms. She whimpered when she felt the familiar shape of Ava’s body against hers. Ava, alive and warm and here, in her arms again.
“Bea…”
“You’re here,” Beatrice repeated, crying as she held Ava closer. “You’re here.”
“Yeah, I’m here,” Ava sounded like she was crying too. “I’m here.”
They held each other, crying and shuddering against each other. Beatrice did not understand a single thing, but she didn’t mind it one bit.
At one point though, Beatrice started coughing. Her throat was parched.
Ava pulled back gently. She smiled at Beatrice, and kissed her on the forehead. “I really should get you some water. Just one sec, okay? It’s right over there.” She pointed, and Beatrice saw the jug of water and a couple of glasses on the desk a few feet away. Ava waited for Beatrice’s nod before she stepped away.
Beatrice’s eyes were glued to Ava the whole time even as she coughed again.
Beatrice’s hands were shaking, so Ava held the glass to her lips and helped her drink. After she was done, Ava went to put the glass back on the desk.
When she came back, Beatrice pulled her to the bed again. She reached up, and caressed Ava’s cheek with trembling fingers. “H-how?”
Ava’s smile was sad. “It’s a really long story. But the short version is, you saved me. I was healed, on the other side. I absorbed most of the Halo’s powers, and I don’t need it in my body anymore. But I needed it as a key to come back. I needed time to grow strong enough to bring Mary back with me—“
“Mary?” Beatrice gasped.
Ava nodded furiously, grinning. “I found her on the other side. I brought her back. But I had to train, and I had to send the Halo back as a beacon for my portal, but I never thought —“ her face fell, leaving devastation in its wake, “I never thought that you’d take it, and that you’d — you’d —“
Beatrice lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry. It seemed to respond only to me. The Sisters needed a Halo-bearer.”
Ava nudged Beatrice’s chin to make her look up. “I know. Camila told me. It went both ways; the Halo is part of me now, and part of me was in the Halo. You’re the only thing I thought about when I was on the other side, I guess that’s why it responded only to you.”
Beatrice straightened suddenly, her arm twisting to reach behind her back. She felt… nothing. No Halo, no scars.
“It fell out when I healed you,” Ava explained. “I absorbed what’s left inside it. It’s really just a chunk of metal now.”
Beatrice stared at Ava, trying to comprehend the miracles that Ava had described so casually. Startled, Beatrice held her hands in front of her. No scars. Her hand touched her left cheek, and found only smooth skin.
Ava watched her do this patiently, a sad smile on her lips.
“My… my scars,” Beatrice turned to Ava again in disbelief, “you healed me?”
Ava nodded. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Beatrice looked down. Of course, she was a monster. It wasn’t just the scars, but the person she had become. Cold, focused only on the mission. She wasn’t proud of it. Ava deserved better.
“Not the scars, silly,” Ava said, cupping Beatrice’s cheek and making her look at Ava. “You almost died. A few minutes later, even the fancy healing powers I have now wouldn’t have brought you back. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I came back only to find you gone.”
The fear in Ava’s eyes ignited a familiar protectiveness in Beatrice. She pulled Ava close again, and they stayed in an embrace for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” Ava muttered.
This time, Beatrice was the one to pull back. “What for?”
Ava tried to smile. “For not being able to send you a message, or something. For letting you take on the burden of the Halo-bearer. You must have felt so alone.”
Beatrice felt tears fill her eyes. She could only nod.
Ava moved closer, until their foreheads touched. “I’m sorry. But I’m back now, and I’m not leaving you again.”
Beatrice’s heart lifted, lighter than it had been in a long time. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Beatrice smiled. She pulled back for a second, saw Ava’s smile, and went right back in for a kiss.
Ava kissed her back, and oh, it felt so, so right.
*
Hours later, Beatrice and Ava made their way to the dining hall at Cat’s Cradle, hand in hand. It was the middle of the afternoon, but there were three people sitting around one of the tables, chatting and laughing.
Beatrice felt as if she had stepped back into the past. At the table, Mary was slapping her thigh as she laughed at something. Lilith — Lilith with human skin and no trace of scales in sight — covered her mouth with one hand as she tried not to laugh. Camila had her back to them, but she also seemed to be shaking in laughter.
“Beatrice!” Mary called when she saw her. She stood up.
Beatrice was already running over. She threw her arms around the taller woman, burying her head in Mary’s shoulders.
Mary’s hug was achingly familiar and firm. “I got you, girl. I got you.”
“I miss you,” Beatrice mumbled, her eyes wet.
She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe she got both Mary and Ava back at the same time. Talk about miracles.
“I miss you too,” Mary said, “though not as much as Ava over there. She just about talked my ears off while we were on the other side. It’s always ‘Bea this’ or ‘Bea that’, I’m honestly not sure how I’m still sane.”
Beatrice laughed as she pulled back.
“Who says you are?” Ava shot back.
Beatrice wiped her eyes quickly as the rest of the group chuckled. When she turned back, Ava tugged her hand, and they both sat down. Beatrice found herself squished in between Ava and Camila.
Camila gave Beatrice a sideways hug. “I’m glad you’re all right, Bea.”
“Me too,” Beatrice said, recalling for a moment how sure she had been that she was dying. She glanced across the table, meeting Lilith’s eyes. “Lilith teleported me away. Or I might not have lasted long enough for Ava to get back.”
Ava squeezed Beatrice’s hand under the table. “Yeah. That’s like, the only reason I gave her a makeover.”
“A makeover?” Lilith scoffed and shook her head. “I suppose that will suffice.”
“Are you still…” Beatrice glanced between Ava and Lilith.
Instead of answering, Lilith extended her claws. “I still have the wings too.”
“Yeah, I’m still not over that shit,” Mary said, “what the hell, Lilith? Have you figured out what you are yet?”
Lilith froze.
“She’s a badass,” Ava declared with a grin.
Lilith turned to Ava in shock, though her lips quirked upwards slightly a moment later.
Mary nodded slowly. “Fair enough. Badass it is,” she said, patting Lilith on the shoulder.
Lilith caught Beatrice’s eyes, and they shared a smile.
Despite the many questions Beatrice still had about what happened to Ava on the other side, she couldn’t really concentrate as Ava started regaling her adventures, interrupted often by Mary. Beatrice felt simply overwhelmed with warmth and the presence of her family.
She exchanged glances with Lilith often, knowing that Lilith was someone who might come close to feeling what Beatrice was feeling.
With Ava by her side now, it was easier to see that Beatrice had not been a monster, but someone broken by the weight of grief and duty.
Beatrice knew she still had a lot of healing to do. She had pieces of her recent past that she needed to show Ava, and that Beatrice herself needed to come to terms with. There were the other Sisters whom she wanted to know better, and perhaps apologize to.
As she wrapped one arm around Ava’s waist and rested her head on Ava’s shoulder — no one at the table batted an eyelid — she thought about what Lilith had said, about how they had both trained their whole lives to be holy.
After everything that happened, Beatrice didn’t really know what holy meant anymore. But here, surrounded by her family and the love of her life, soaking in their comfort and laughter, she thought maybe holiness was something like this.