Blood and Borne
All Mercy has ever known is blood.
Her mother's golden ichor is pooling beneath her palms while she lay facing the trembling body. Her mother is extraordinarily beautiful, and crying, but not the least bit scared. Mercy's father is laying waste to the barn, blood-curdling screams erupting magic boom, after sonic shred. His fit of rage must mean that Mercy has just been born...
Her mother cups her cheek and coos: "It is okay now, small one. You are here and all is well— but you must help, and I am so sorry it has to be you. I have done all that I can, and you... you are my gift to all. Heal this world, my child."
Life leaves her eyes, the first time Mercy has a chance to meet them. A rich and chestnut brown. She must have loved them so, for Mercy to know those words born from her mind. I guess this is how Mercy is created: sacrifice. It doesn't seem like things went as planned.
"It is okay now, small one. You are here and all is well— but you must help, and I am so sorry it has to be you. I have done all that I can, and you... you are my gift to all. Heal this world, my child." Mercy decides she mustn't forget her words no matter what. Every day she must remember, though she doesn't yet know what they mean.
Before she can decide where to start processing a wave of energy shoots toward her.
"THUNK!" Her Mother's body becomes ghastly petrified as some spell from her father sends her corpse spilling into a corner.
The first emotion Mercy experienced in this world was the love thundering from her Mother's ethereal form, and it is now being overtaken by a dripping, dangerous malice for her father.
How disrespectful!
The bewilderment refused to clear as questions peppered her mind: Why would he do that to her? What happened to me? Where am I?
Mercy looks down toward her near-naked body. Ill-fitted clothes meant for a teenage boy lay loose as rags upon her shoulders and torso. Handprints of golden blood from her mother linger where she tried to cover Mercy as best she could.
Mercy's vision begins to focus and she starts to take in the rest of her surroundings. An entire wall of the barn has exploded in some magical spell, and yet the building still stands resolute. The golden ichor of her mother's blood paints defensive sigils upon the standing walls and beams, all intersecting into the center of the cramped barn in a pointed star. Mercy begins to shake her legs into function, laying safely in the most central point.
She begins to decipher her Father's latest rant for answers: "He was supposed to be mine! Our greatest weapon against those devils, and it's only a GIRL."
Am I a girl?
He levels the most condescending look of disgust upon Mercy and spits.
"You're useless to me"
He begins muttering a spell that whips the loose straw into a frenzy, creatures howl from the woods in panic, and the room begins to shine with a brilliant blue light.
He levels his staff at this girl who has never wronged a soul, who was innocently created by his greed, and who will watch as he pathetically fails in his attempt to murder her in cold blood.
As the light extends in a fanned-out arc a serene laugh bounds merrily around the room, and the growing blue shadows turn golden as they crash upon the abusive caster.
He screams in blinding agony and is rocked off his feet. Excruciating panic leads to a final moment of cruelty as he steals the corpse with a flick of his staff and flees the barn, not once looking back for fear of his own life. The corpse of the Laeminia Goddess floats behind him, looking quite pleased with herself even in death.
The aftermath congeals slowly. Shadows return to their starry night hue and Mercy is enveloped in darkness once more. She takes stock of the very few things she may understand: Mercy is truly alone. Mercy is completely lost. And Mercy has everywhere to go.
One would normally think this to be ranked a top-tier tragedy for young Mercy, but as a cool smile creeps upon her face there is one thing she knows for sure: If her Mother could whip her father from the dead, then Mercy has no excuses to accept cruelty from anyone.
She doesn't know how, or who will have hell to pay, but she will avenge her mother and follow in her steps.
"Heal this world, my child." This parting cadence neutralizes some of the chill swept into her dilapidated and very exposed barn as curiosity gets the better of her.