The Divine Defender X

Paliurus Squadron (III)

Kaleen tossed and turned in bed, trapped within her mind.

Illusory battles haunted her dreams. She found herself in the midst of a molten landscape, a fluid waste of liquid sand and mineral trees. A solution of every place she had ever imagined, and overwhelmed by enemies. Her blade swept clumsily over an Elven warrior in its faceless suit of armor, leaving her open for a brutish Sorian, who’s fists connected with her midsection like the hammer to a gong. An angel’s arachnid legs seized her and held her fast against a stone. All of her strength left her. Kaleen heard the aural chorus of her hymns but it gave her no advantage, no matter which spell she tried to sing. No fire appeared to sweep away her enemies and no force broke her bonds.

Spindly steel limbs forced her chin up and her eyes spread. Before her, Paliurus Squadron had been arranged in similar bonds. The Elf’s sword, the Sorian’s claws, the Angel’s sharp limbs, each caressed the vulnerable neck of a fellow sister whom she knew she had failed. One by one, she saw her squad mates beheaded, and suffered their lifeless eyes to stare into her own, each judging her unfit to lead.

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The Divine Defender IX

Paliurus Squadron (II)

Paliurus Squadron – as the assembly of the Mothers recognized it – gathered for the first time in the open stone court used by the convent as a training field. They had each been brought their full combat dress by a pack of excitable Cherubim at the tower. Now outfitted and dismissed, they awaited their first communication together as a squadron.

At the head of the Squadron, Kaleen stood with a weight upon her head she had never felt before – the dull iron band of the common Seraphim had been replaced with the silver crown of a Seraphim captain. For a few hours she had been weighed down by this unnatural addition to her armor. She felt she would never get used to it. This weight seemed to have been balanced by lightness at her hip as sleek blade replaced her heavy mace. But this changed little – the crown was closer to her skin than the sword, and still discomforting. The crown even contrasted her skin and hair more than her old, dull little iron band did. In every way the silver crown seemed to call too much attention to itself.

Hampered by this turbulence, Kaleen stood before her squadron on the court.

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The Divine Defender VIII

Paliurus Squadron (I)

The Seraphim (and one Cherubim) formed a line in front of the Mothers, who appraised the whole group. Kaleen stood in the center, Andante and Shanti on opposite ends and the two strange women directly beside her. Though wind blew enough to upset their gowns, there was a tense silence nonetheless. Their every movement would be scrutinized.

To Kaleen’s immediate left stood a dark-skinned Damakran woman, a head taller than Kaleen with her hair down to the jaw in a bob, dyed a light red. She was not as large as Mother Nall, but Kaleen could trace the rough shape of her biceps under the fabric of her sleeves, as well as her broad shoulders and the solid definition of her abdomen through her gown. The fin-shaped protrusion on the peak of her head, characteristic of the Damakran, was subdued, rising only three inches and tapering off the back of her head.

A ghost of a woman with wolf-like ears pointing backwards and a gray tail stood to Kaleen’s right hand. Around her neck she wore a small, ornate iron band bearing magic runes. Everything about her was frighteningly pale, from her wavy locks of hair to the near-transparent skin on her hands and neck, assuming a semblance of color only on her face. One of her eyes was covered in a black patch, while the other was red as the Sargassan sunset. She was shorter than Kaleen but not nearly as small as Shanti, and very light of build, almost dainty. Perfectly straight and unshaken and with a countenance that betrayed no emotion, the woman seemed almost like an apparition.

For several minutes these figures remained solid as statues until Mother Leyka stood before the squadron again, turned to the two mothers, and presented them.

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The Divine Defender VI

Andante Hemispherous (II)

Kaleen kept expecting to hear “Oh, letter-writing, would you desire my aid? I have written many exquisite letters and read treatises on the art,” from Andante, but was pleasantly wrong to think so. That night she occupied the desk with her parchments and quills. Andante scarcely seemed to notice. Though surreptitious at first, Andante’s apathy emboldened Kaleen, and she was soon writing freely. Kaleen thought she might address her father with his full name and proper titles, thus preserving the formal tone of the letter without directly acknowledging their connection in the header. She hoped to bury that bit of news just early enough to capture him, but late enough not to startle him. The search for this delicate balance consumed many feet of parchment paper.

“The temperature in this room is very agreeable.” Andante said. Kaleen turned to face her, but found her book instead. Kaleen clenched her fist. It was absurd that anybody could just talk from behind books like that. Andante continued after a pause. “My old room was in the lakeside dorm, it was so terrible. Gave me chills, drove me to hysterics.”

Kaleen tried desperately to swallow her anger. It would be terribly unbecoming of her to sting a fellow sister. “You have an opinion on everything, don’t you?”

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