Of Angels and Salamanders.
Chapter One:
Tears and raindrops.
At the age of eight she was but a child however that would soon change for on this day she would begin to grow and mature, not into an adult but a soldier. As she lay under a red velvet blanket she held on to the sheet as if it were the childhood she didn't want to lose. She lay afraid yet excited and still a little tired.
Outside the room on a flower box filled with roses in bloom there sat a bluebird. The gentle creature sang its song to the girl calming her nerves on this new day. Sunlight creeped in through the window and crawled across her almost porcelain doll-like features. Her skin was as pale as the clouds in the sky that day and her lips as red as Andui, the ruby moon.
There came a knock on the door that drew the girl's gaze toward the entrance.
'Beatrix!' Called the gentle voice of Mada, the maid.
'Yes Mada?' She replied.
'I have been sent to wake you. Please get dressed in your uniform and proceed to the depths of the castle for training. You have one hour.'
'Thank you!' Beatrix called back.
As much as she hated to, the poor girl dragged herself out of bed. She crawled along the mattress on all fours and paused before reaching the end. A smile crossed her angelic face as she decided to do one last thing before leaving her childhood behind.
She climbed to her feet and walked to the centre of the king-sized bed. She and began to jump up and down on the bed. She bounced up and down happily as her long brown hair dance in the air. She jumped up and down with such force that she knocked the chandelier from the ceiling in the room below. She finally stopped jumping when she heard the sound of crystal shatter.
With a final leap she landed on the floor and went to have a bath. After a while, when she was 'wrinkled like a prune' as her deceased mother once said she got out of the bath and dried her tiny body. She reentered the room with one towel around her waist and another in her hand.
With the towel in her hand she rubbed her hair until it was dry as a bone and with the other she dried her body. Inside a wooden wardrobe there hung her soldier's uniform, which consisted of a pair of white leather shoes, a long red shirt with white cuffs and collar and a pair of tight white trousers.
Within half and hour she had washed, dressed and combed her hair. She stood in front of the mirror to make sure she looked presentable.
'Mother, I will become strong. I will meet him again one day and justice will be done. In the coming months I may become different; my mood and attitude may change but dearest mother I promise you, you will be avenged.' She said to her reflection.
Beatrix looked on as the girl in the mirror shed a tear. She wiped away the tear and closed her eyes. Instantly she traveled back to that fateful night when her mother was killed.
The wind outside was furious; its howling drowning out the desperate cries of a woman. She was lying on her bed with blood pouring from her nostril. Eyes glazed with a look of pure fear looked upwards to the man who was holding her down. He was barely a man possibly one of the races in between man and beast as his skin colour was light green and sickly looking and his hair as red as the burning sun.
His long, deadlocked, flaming red hair, fell within her grasp. Firmly she grabbed and pulled the locks causing the man to scream loudly. With another thrown fist the woman fell back on the bed
Between a crack in the door two bright eyes could be seen watching the events. The eyes belonged to a child of six who could do nothing but survey the violence.
The woman became that man's slave for a few moments of hell, her body no longer her own. When the man had finished taking his pleasure of her pain, his hands crawled up her body and to her neck. With a firm grip he strangled the poor woman and ended her suffering.
'No!' Cried the young Beatrix.
The man's eyes were drawn to the door. He pulled up his trousers and walked to the door by which time the young girl had fled. Clutching her teddy bear by its hand and wearing nothing but a flower patterned night gown the girl fled from the house somehow losing the man.
The girl ran and ran until she finally came to the palace. Soaked like a rat she walked through the gates and found two palace guards. Tears and raindrops, each indistinguishable from the other ran down her delicate face as she pleaded for help.
'What's wrong?' Asked one of the guards.
'Mother. She. He. Was on top of her. He hurt her.'
'Your father?'
'No, a man with orange hair. He.He!'
'Where do you live?'
'Se-seven Ornitier Street.'
'Take her in.' Said the guard to her partner before running into town in search of the attacker.
As night turned to day and dark clouds fled the sky no word came of the man dubbed the Flaming Salamander. From that day on Beatrix was raised within the confines of the castle. When she came to the age of seven she enrolled in the Alexandrian army, so that she may become strong enough to defeat the man who raped her mother.
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Chapter One:
Tears and raindrops.
At the age of eight she was but a child however that would soon change for on this day she would begin to grow and mature, not into an adult but a soldier. As she lay under a red velvet blanket she held on to the sheet as if it were the childhood she didn't want to lose. She lay afraid yet excited and still a little tired.
Outside the room on a flower box filled with roses in bloom there sat a bluebird. The gentle creature sang its song to the girl calming her nerves on this new day. Sunlight creeped in through the window and crawled across her almost porcelain doll-like features. Her skin was as pale as the clouds in the sky that day and her lips as red as Andui, the ruby moon.
There came a knock on the door that drew the girl's gaze toward the entrance.
'Beatrix!' Called the gentle voice of Mada, the maid.
'Yes Mada?' She replied.
'I have been sent to wake you. Please get dressed in your uniform and proceed to the depths of the castle for training. You have one hour.'
'Thank you!' Beatrix called back.
As much as she hated to, the poor girl dragged herself out of bed. She crawled along the mattress on all fours and paused before reaching the end. A smile crossed her angelic face as she decided to do one last thing before leaving her childhood behind.
She climbed to her feet and walked to the centre of the king-sized bed. She and began to jump up and down on the bed. She bounced up and down happily as her long brown hair dance in the air. She jumped up and down with such force that she knocked the chandelier from the ceiling in the room below. She finally stopped jumping when she heard the sound of crystal shatter.
With a final leap she landed on the floor and went to have a bath. After a while, when she was 'wrinkled like a prune' as her deceased mother once said she got out of the bath and dried her tiny body. She reentered the room with one towel around her waist and another in her hand.
With the towel in her hand she rubbed her hair until it was dry as a bone and with the other she dried her body. Inside a wooden wardrobe there hung her soldier's uniform, which consisted of a pair of white leather shoes, a long red shirt with white cuffs and collar and a pair of tight white trousers.
Within half and hour she had washed, dressed and combed her hair. She stood in front of the mirror to make sure she looked presentable.
'Mother, I will become strong. I will meet him again one day and justice will be done. In the coming months I may become different; my mood and attitude may change but dearest mother I promise you, you will be avenged.' She said to her reflection.
Beatrix looked on as the girl in the mirror shed a tear. She wiped away the tear and closed her eyes. Instantly she traveled back to that fateful night when her mother was killed.
The wind outside was furious; its howling drowning out the desperate cries of a woman. She was lying on her bed with blood pouring from her nostril. Eyes glazed with a look of pure fear looked upwards to the man who was holding her down. He was barely a man possibly one of the races in between man and beast as his skin colour was light green and sickly looking and his hair as red as the burning sun.
His long, deadlocked, flaming red hair, fell within her grasp. Firmly she grabbed and pulled the locks causing the man to scream loudly. With another thrown fist the woman fell back on the bed
Between a crack in the door two bright eyes could be seen watching the events. The eyes belonged to a child of six who could do nothing but survey the violence.
The woman became that man's slave for a few moments of hell, her body no longer her own. When the man had finished taking his pleasure of her pain, his hands crawled up her body and to her neck. With a firm grip he strangled the poor woman and ended her suffering.
'No!' Cried the young Beatrix.
The man's eyes were drawn to the door. He pulled up his trousers and walked to the door by which time the young girl had fled. Clutching her teddy bear by its hand and wearing nothing but a flower patterned night gown the girl fled from the house somehow losing the man.
The girl ran and ran until she finally came to the palace. Soaked like a rat she walked through the gates and found two palace guards. Tears and raindrops, each indistinguishable from the other ran down her delicate face as she pleaded for help.
'What's wrong?' Asked one of the guards.
'Mother. She. He. Was on top of her. He hurt her.'
'Your father?'
'No, a man with orange hair. He.He!'
'Where do you live?'
'Se-seven Ornitier Street.'
'Take her in.' Said the guard to her partner before running into town in search of the attacker.
As night turned to day and dark clouds fled the sky no word came of the man dubbed the Flaming Salamander. From that day on Beatrix was raised within the confines of the castle. When she came to the age of seven she enrolled in the Alexandrian army, so that she may become strong enough to defeat the man who raped her mother.
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