Editing Character:Sister Mercy (section)

=History=
My story, sadly, is quite usual in this land they called Creation. I was born as Golden Sonja, in a small village at North. Sometimes I wonder if my parents gave me that name because they somehow knew what I will become, or was it just one of the lame jokes of Fate. The townspeople used to say I’m the most beautiful thing my village had ever seen, but personally I think it matters little unless I can find some rich and powerful bastard to seduce. For what it’s worth, I’m just another girl you will never know, living in another village you will never hear of, leading another live you will never interest in. My parents aren’t anyone important, either. They are not rich, but they think the world for me. My mother was a normal woman who just wants her daughter to marry the right man. And a religious woman, too. I was never a religious person, and for the time of my life I couldn’t bring myself to pray. Not in the least. My father was a soldier, who fought in a war so small I don’t think anyone ever cared to name it. My father trained me in archery, among other things, because that was one of the very few things he could give his daughter. 

The day was just like any other day. Quieter, actually. Peaceful. Calm before the storm. Storm isn’t such a bad metaphor, when one comes to think of it. One moment before, everything was fine. Everyone went about their usual lives, another uneventful day in an unimportant little town. But one moment later…everything went to hell. My village was caught in the crossfire between the Tepets and the Bull of the North. And there’s so little we could do, when the war struck. I don’t know which we lack more – trained warriors or real weapons. All we could do was find somewhere to hide, pray to everything that’s holy for the war to past. And as soon as the war moved on and left our village devastated, deserters and stragglers came like predators smelled blood. I’m one of the few villagers who actually know how to operate weapons, and I did what I had to. I gathered every arrows I could find, took my father’s bow and went to the front line. I just stood there, at the entrance of our village, shooting any stranger who even looks like he wants something from us. It’s amazing how quickly you can get dumb about killing your fellow human being. I gave up counting at 34.

Because that was when I fall, from tiresome and despair. This will never end. No matter how many arrows I have. No matter how good a shot I am. No matter how many people I kill. They will just keep coming and coming and coming. Even if we could rebuild our village and ward against the scavengers, there will still be another war, and another, and another. Sooner or later, a war will left us so devastated, it would be better for us to just leave than trying to rebuild our home, the very place we were born and raised. And as long as there is even a single war still going on, someone somewhere would be suffering the same unreasonable fate as my people did. For the first time in my life, I felt so small and powerless. I wished I were more. I wish I could do more. I wish I could put a stop to this, to scold at those mindless goons to stop fighting over some childish reasons and play nice with each other. For the first time in my life, I prayed. I pray to be giving the power to stop all wars. How funny it was the greatest warrior in all Creation who answered my prayer.

Now I want to crack a joke about expecting someone taller. But no, he is as tall and handsome and majestic as the legends say, the Unconquered Sun. In all his light and glory, I could see a vision. A vision of a better Creation. There were buildings and vehicles of designs I couldn’t even begin to comprehend, but they were all much more beautiful and elegant than anything of our age. And all the people I saw in the vision, they were all so…alive. Not the people who had their life drained by endless conflicts. Not the people who lived in fear and despair for generations. The people were contended, alive, and full of vision about an even brighter future. I had no idea if it was the past, future or something else entirely, and I didn’t care. That is what Creation should be like. That is what people should fight for, what is worth sacrificing their lives and dreams for. I looked up at Sol Invictus, but before I could say or do anything, he extended a giant palm to me. Inside his palm was…a weapon, I supposed. 

The Sol Invictus did not say a word, but I understood what he meant. I just did. What was inside his palm, it isn’t just a weapon. It’s a mission, a quest, and a conquest. Someone has to watch over the Creation, to make sure all the wars are waged over all the right reasons, if there should be any war at all. I took over the weapon, and I made a vow to him. I did not say a word either, but I knew he knows, in the same way that I know why he offered the weapon to me. I vowed to become the wickest Anathema of them all, the most hated, feared and despised Chosen of Sun the Creation will ever seen. When I put my gaze on them, the bravest soldiers would tremble. When I raise my voice even just a little, the mightiest generals would beg for mercy. And when I raise my weapon, they will just run, run as far away as they can, shudder in whatever shelter they could find, just like me and my people did. I will become the monster who can stop a war with a raised eyebrow, and for that purpose I will use anything, kill anyone and go to any length I have to go. The Unconquered Sun looked at me, and smiled.

I stood guard at the village for days without need of food, drink, sleep or even ammunition. I felt easy. Alive. More so they I had ever felt in my entire live. Because now, I have a purpose. I shot everything dared to move in my sight, and my sight became broad and far indeed. I stood there until this strange organization called Salvation Army Sisterhood got to me before the Wyld Hunt did. Apparently I was starting to make a name for myself, and a really bad one indeed, just by standing there and shooting people semi-randomly. Good. Exactly the way I wanted. The SAS are all a bunch of psycho nuns who seek to deliver salvation through crossbows and executions. Just as well. In some ways, I am a nun too. I am on a mission appointed by the Unconquered Sun himself, and I will not stop until my objective is achieved. And what could I say, hanging out with a group of over-armed crazy nuns add to my reputation. I accepted the nun’s outfit they offered me and let them smuggled me out. People don’t tend to question nuns, and they question even less when the nuns are all carrying crossbows.

And the infamous Sister Mercy was born.