Angel Monarch

Vicky pretended to sleep. Her body felt like a massive wound, every movement sending a new spasm of pain through her body.

Despite her intact memory, yesterday felt dreamlike. She could recall each scar on her body, and all the pain each of them caused.

Most weren't too bad, just some light skin tears or maybe flesh wounds. These only needed a few stitches. A couple of others went deeper, scratching even her bones.

One of the worst by far were the two stab wounds on her chest. They permanently disfigured her body. She only dared look at them once before she broke down crying.

Luckily, Bea healed her ribs, so they weren't a source of pain and discomfort. Every wound and injury not caused by the blades could be healed; thus, any broken bone or bruise disappeared.

The damage to her chest wasn't the worst. Her face's disfigurement felt much more traumatic. She took one brief glance, then immediately regretted it. With a scream and inexplicable sadness, she broke down, only stopping after doctors sedated her.

Even then, her Ascended constitution worked overtime, like it felt guilt for the irreparable injuries. The sedatives lost their effectiveness quite fast, and now she pretended to sleep, so nobody talked to her.

Both her mothers and Bran stayed inside the room, talking about the future. They still ignored personal topics, but the cordial conversation was a great start.

From their talks, Vicky learned everything about the current state of the war. The odds weren't great, especially because most of the plans depended on her powers of portal making.

It felt good that everyone needed her help, but it also brought an enormous pressure on her. That, combined with her recent facial disfigurement, brought a wave of dark depression over her radiant soul.

Currently, the war was the last of her worries. She would've rather withered in this bed, then get up and acknowledge her new reality. Vicky knew it was wrong, and she should push through her personal troubles, like Sera always does, but she simply couldn't.

With this dark cloud weighing on her, her lack of will to live, and the shame and guilt both these emotions brought, she decided to stay asleep. The pain continued eating away at her body, but it wasn't close to the pain consuming her soul.

Vicky only perked up once. Her parents stopped discussing the war, changing the topic to her mental state. They talked about bringing the other kids inside so they could cheer her up.

This filled Vicky with dread. She didn't want her new friends judging her appearance and dislike her because of her new looks. Even worse, she hated the idea of Henry seeing her face, and making a disgusted expression. Just thinking about it broke her already fragile heart.

Bea and Sera were both against the idea, while Bran suggested only bringing Henry and maybe Lydia inside.

After waking, all three listened to everything that had happened during the sleepover. The children awoke sooner than either Sera or Bran, so all of them took part in the tale telling. The other parents also listened in.

Most of it wasn't anything special, just normal kids having fun. Sera and the others were a bit surprised when they heard about Truth or Dare, and the kiss between Vicky and Henry.

Bran brought the connection and the kiss up to convince the two mothers about bringing Henry inside. At his point, Vicky couldn't hold it anymore, and while hiding under the covers, she wept silently.

The voices around the room abruptly stopped as they all realized Vicky was awake. The room's silence felt louder than any noise, but Vicky cared little. She just continued sobbing from the overwhelming, suffocating pressure.

She felt the bed's mattress shift as someone sat down at its edge. Vicky heard voices speaking to her in kind and warm tones, but the meaning of each word escaped her. She couldn't focus on anything her parents said, like they were talking in a different language.

Vicky wasn't sure how long they tried to console her, but eventually the voices stopped and the weight on the bed disappeared.

Outside of Vicky's tent, the three of them spoke in hushed voices. Trying to find a solution to Vicky's depression. They were so occupied with their argument that neither noticed as Henry and Lydia snuck inside.

The two kids noticed Vicky under the covers. It shook with every sob.

Henry and Lydia exchanged uncertain glances. They thought leaving might be the best option, since they probably underestimated the issue, but neither wanted to let Vicky suffer alone, so in the end, they stayed.

This decision lacked a plan or approach, however, Lydia swiftly remedied this. As she walked around the tent with curiosity, she accidentally knocked over a metal plate full of tools. They hit the ground so loudly that it was a miracle nobody outside heard.

Vicky wasn't as oblivious though, and upon hearing the sound, her flight or fight reflexes kicked in. She jumped out of bed, expecting to see an intruder attempting to kill her… Instead, she came face-to-face with her crush…

Henry's eyes widened the moment he saw her. The injuries covering her body were only a small portion of the surprise. What he really didn't expect was Vicky's lack of clothing. She only wore some sort of hospital fabric, which covered her lower half, but left her stomach and chest exposed.

Vicky, at age eleven, hadn't reached puberty yet, but the situation proved awkward, anyway. Henry quickly turned around with a heavy blush, feeling shame for glimpsing at Vicky.

Vicky just jumped back under the covers, continuing to cry. Vicky thought herself so ugly that his crush couldn't look at her any longer.

This, of course, wasn't the case. Henry did examine most of Vicky's injuries in that brief second, but there was no change about his thoughts relating to her. Yes, it was surprising, especially her face, but it was nothing too serious.

Lydia watched this exchange from the sidelines. She alone understood each side's feelings. She really wanted to berate Henry for turning away, but she also understood why he had done so.

She also guessed Vicky wasn't ready showing her injuries to anyone, but leaving her alone to fume in her self-hatred wouldn't do her any good.

With little options, Lydia did something bold by her standards. She sauntered to the side of Vicky's bed and climbed under the covers.

Vicky wept with her back towards Lydia. She clearly saw the cuts and deeper wounds all over the flesh. They didn't look too bad, and even after fully healing, they would leave scars, but scientific medicine was amazing in its own regard.

Everyone always talked about how miraculous the Evolved are with their healing powers, but few spoke of the doctors and their medicine. The surgeons excellently stitched Vicky together, and with some blood coagulating medicine, they were already mostly healed.

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Vicky noticed Lydia's approach, but she couldn't care less about her nearness. In the depths of her depression and self-pity, she couldn't think properly.

With a gentle hand, Lydia turned towards Vicky, so they saw eye-to-eye. She allowed Lydia to turn her, but kept her face covered with her hands.

The first scars Lydia noticed were the two ugly ones on her chest. On her right side, the blade went through her areola, permanently removing her right nipple.

The left was better. The blade entered above her left areola, missing it. But the assassin must've twisted the blade, making the scar much messier.

The other injuries were insignificant. Only the two scars proved terrible, yet her beauty remained largely unaffected by them.

The only parts of Vicky's body she couldn't see were her legs and face, but she doubted any serious damage happened below her waist. This meant Vicky's real problem was the face injury, which she kept hidden even now.

Lydia took a deep breath, then leaned over and hugged Vicky. Her crying stopped for a moment, then she felt Vicky's small hands wrap around her shoulder while she continued to weep. With one hand, Lydia gently stroked Vicky's white hair as she began whispering into her ear.

"You shouldn't feel ashamed about these scars. Each one marks a victory over odds, your survival through suffering… Also, I don't think they are ugly at all, even though you do. I think they are stunning!"

Vicky's crying lessened as she listened. She spoke, sniffling slightly, for the first time since her surgery. "You are lying… They are hideous, just like me!"

"That's not true… To be honest, I'm kind of jealous… I always dreamed of having battle-scars, but unlike you, I might not get a chance to even fight… I want to be an Evolved, part of the Angelic Order, but not everyone has such privilege…"

"Anyway, I think you underestimate how little care about looks these days. Especially people who love and support you!"

Gently, Lydia pushed Vicky away, so she could look at her face. After a bit of hesitation, Vicky let her. Her teary eyes stayed closed, not daring to look at Lydia's expression.

Lydia felt a bit surprised. She wasn't expecting the terrible, ugly scar that made Vicky break down be so… Mild…

It wasn't a horrible disfigurement, like Vicky thinks, but just a long stitched up line running from the middle of her eyebrows to her left jawline.

In reality, Lydia felt a bit underwhelmed, and she could hold in her laughter. Vicky was about to cry again, so Lydia quickly elaborated on the situation's ridiculousness.

"You know, it's hilarious you think that scar makes you ugly. I think it makes you even more attractive. Every other Evolved has perfect facial features, perfect skin, hair, everything. But, people like imperfections, it makes people more exotic, it makes them stand out."

Vicky finally opened her eyes. She continued to stare at Lydia with disbelief, which brought another giggle out of her.

"Oh, don't look so surprised. If you want proof, show yourself to Henry. I'm sure he won't see you any lesser… But maybe consider wearing real clothes… Or stay in these hospital pants if you want to see him blush again!"

This time, they both chuckled, and Vicky swiftly dressed up with her newfound confidence.