12 The Ark Of A Child's Nightmares

"That's how Valkyries work, we wage wars to indicate our status."

After the sheer annihilation of the sad deer, Mavislin had her eyes on the poor creature's eyes.

"We represent the gods of war, not angels at all," replied the girl who had an eyeball in her mouth.

She was extremely bothered at how her race was being defined. Ysabeau sighed as she got a piece of cloth and wiped away the blood that was trickling down the young child's chin.

"You guys are still better respected than me," commented Baldwin.

"That's proper," replied the Valkyrie.

Soon, after much yelling and arguments, the trio of adults managed to get little Mavislin asleep. In a mountain of plushies.

"She won't drown in that, right?" asked a very tired Angry Man.

"Amazingly, no."

"Is it always that hard to get her to fall asleep?" asked Baldwin, wiping sweat away from his brow.

Poor Gillian was busy healing a burnt wound that Mavislin had made to stay up late.

"It's not getting her into bed a difficult task, it's the latter part. She constantly has nightmares of her past. Even the Old Chapel can't ease her pain. We may be adults, but we can't truly replace the family love that she's so deprived of," explained Ysabeau, with a heavy heart and saddened eyes.

"The least we can do, is be there for her," replied Baldwin, looking out the window.

"But for how long..."

A few days had passed. A day started by shining brightly through the window of Mavislin's room. Though she was surrounded by plushies, she had only chosen one. Her eyepatch bunny to hug tight, nightmares still fresh from her mind.

Once again, the Old Chapel tried her best to comfort the crying girl, but to no avail. A tall, intimidating man and a shadow was not a pleasant sight to wake up to.

"Still haven't got used to it, huh?" asked Gillian, entering the room with Baldwin.

"Don't worry, Angry Man's made breakfast. Grilled Ham and Cheese Toastie. It'll be good," said Gillian, as the Valkyrie scooted away from the duo.

"Shadows can cook?" asked the young girl, hugging the bunny tightly.

"Yea, somewhat," replied Gillian, eyeing Baldwin from head to toe.

"Thanks for the thousand nicknames I didn't need."

The three went down to eat, where Ysabeau was reading some loose papers. As Mavislin chowed down on the sandwiches, the adults were reading the news update about the Congregation's status.

" 'Beware of witches, vampires, and werewolves within this organization'," said Ysabeau, looking at a report.

" 'Warning! Those found to have an association with the Congregation will be hanged by dawn!' " said Baldwin, looking at a poster.

" 'Wanted! A being that was able to shapeshift into the shadows has burnt down the Capital of the Campania!' " said Gillian, staring at Baldwin.

"Well, at least we know one of the information is true. The entire Congregation has collapsed, the alliance that we tried so hard to maintain is in shambles..." complained Gillian, slumping down on a chair.

"One thing good is that we can have the freedom to do what we want."

"So where's Old Man Pond in all of this hullabaloo?" asked Gillian.

"He's gone missing, no one knows where'd he'd gone and or what he is doing. Most of the members there are quite angry that their leader has abandoned them. And another thing bad is that about at least a thousand of us have been rounded up. And sent to greet Death's door," explained Baldwin, sifting through more papers.

"Looks like Death's gonna be very busy these days," replied Gillian, earning a sharp glare from his wife.

"They've even split up the families that had part human, part Mage in them. Looks like the children have been untouched due to moral reasons. But the teenagers have all been rounded up and burnt at the stake," said Ysabeau, looking at a list of names being burnt at stake and the ones waiting for it.

Mavislin's eyes widened as she recalled what had happened back in Valokia. Her hands shook, her head whirled. The Old Chapel sensed a change in the poor girl's heart and sent her a small plushie of a giraffe. However, the Old Chapel's efforts were futile as the young girl ignored the toy beside her.

Even the very plushie that was given to her by her mother did not help. Screams and cries echoed through her head. Bombs rang in her ears. Chaos and destruction sprinkled all over Arcadia. The constant wails, the constant agony, the constant hatred, the constant fire, the constant...

The sight of her friends... Bombed. The sight of her parents...Dead. The sight of her brother... Rounded up. The sight of her home... Ashes. The sight of Valokia... Gone.

Anyone would do...