We Dream of Hope

Seraphine's Past

It was days of getting nowhere for Nadia, she felt tired alone and vastly unprepared for everything. Maat and Odion were spending so much time practicing that they rarely had time to talk anymore, sure they exchanged passing comments every night over their food, but it wasn’t anything like they had before. Hello, goodbye, Nadia just passed her time figuring out what she wanted. To her credit Sera after the third day patted her on the shoulder she went a full day not sharing her thoughts or reading into anyone else’s. She still felt useless, she watched them practice and saw how much better everyone was becoming and here she sat, the secret weapon, or more like dead weight. She felt like she was just taking up space, she longed to pick up a sword like Ma’at and swing it with proficiency. At least then she would know she was trying to help. Talking with herself just seemed to be useless. 

Sera had to have heard her discontent with everything because during their dinner she started to share something personal out of the blue. It was a tale she said that would explain everything. “I wasn’t always this way you know.”

Everyone looked up confused that she sounded so vulnerable.

“I know over the past few days you have all been thinking how could anyone be so cold? I may be heartless, but the truth is I just know how the world works. I remember the remnants of the old world, how we all turned on each other and if you saw it you’d probably be the same. Even Hope wasn’t so bad in the beginning.”

“What do you mean?” Nadia leaned forward.

  Digging a nail into the side of her can picking at the flaking paper as Sera continued, “The world was failing. Every member of my family had already chosen their side, I was young and weak. They left me to die hoping I would be consumed by my own frailty. I prayed to some unseen desire to just have it end.” With her next breath and paused and started to blink rapidly while pushing back uneasy thoughts, “Each day held a burning hunger that was never satisfied and each night I sat eyes wide open wondering if the next thing I met would kill me slowly or lack mercy and prolong the suffering. It was a living nightmare that held no end in sight. I was to the point that I felt taking my own life would yield a better result or, at least then I could choose how I would go. 

When I finally made the choice that I would finish off myself before something could take my last option away I was plagued by deciding how it should happen. Drowning was least preferable, I hated water and I didn’t want to risk one of the merfolk saving me. Death by fire was also unappealing, it seemed those that burned suffered a great deal. If I was going to suffer for my choice to end my life, I did not want to suffer during my death. I once read a story about someone who bled to death, it was said to be like falling asleep. A short term of pain from the cut and you just drift off as your head grows light and your eyes turn heavy. So I felt like sleeping peacefully would be a great escape from this tragedy. 

The first day I set out for a weapon. I just needed the sharpness, if I could find that glimmer of steel I would be content. It didn’t take long before I stumbled upon a camp, a group of people sat around a campfire telling stories about fighting and laughing at the way things would twitch as they died. I didn’t take notice of what the people looked like, I only eyed the blades propped against the rocks. For as much as I wanted to die, I knew that these people would make me suffer and I was determined to not be caught. 

I slid my hand forward taking careful note to keep the rest of me hidden behind the large rock. One blade fell but no one took notice, they were drinking heavily and the tales told were far more interesting than shifting weaponry. I could hear the metal sliding against the grass and I swore it was loud enough to draw at least a small gaze, but still, I was unnoticed. Relief washed over my face as I grew victorious in my endeavor. I didn’t want to inconvenience these unknowingly generous people and so I decided it was best to just end it there. At least then they wouldn't lose their weapon and I wouldn’t be alone as my life slipped away. 

The blade was chilled against my arm and it was so big. I hadn’t noticed the size until I measured it to my twig of an arm. I was dwarfed and fear grew inside me as I held the sharp edge to my wrist. I closed my eyes thinking the world was better off without me as I gathered my strength to make one swift cut. I reared my arm back and tried to bring it forward but found it to be stuck held high in the air by the softest touch.

The owner of this hand which gripped me gently and still much too powerful for me to break free was so pale. Her eyes looked hurt staring at my little skeleton. They were soft looking down as her mouth remained emotionless against her ivory skin. Those bright blue eyes shined on me and I wanted to feel something but my dreams were shattered beyond hope’s reproach. Her other hand gently took the sword from me and laid it on the ground quietly. She maintained her grip on my hand but swung herself around as elegant and gracefully as anything I had ever witnessed before as her hand reached up cradling my cheek.

That touch was the first time in a long time I had felt love. She wanted me to feel something positive, but with so much hurt that beautiful creature saw my heart was broken. The sound around us died and I could hear her speak into my heart trying to pick the pieces up and glue them back together if it meant just a small smile could wash across my face again. As she searched for something that would be worth saving in me I could feel her heart sink in terror at everything that happened. She could hear the slander spoken by my parents as they left. They wanted me to die, it would be easier in the end after all. She cycled through my days and nights hearing my silent cries for help but with a return of no answer. Each of my prayers fell on silent ears and her heart grew more in the dark. Finally, as the end of my long toil drew to a close at my final wish her eyes wept. Tears ran down her face glistening against the light of the fire like little diamonds falling on the grass. 

Nothing was her fault, but she spoke and the angelic sound of her sorrow finally lifted my spirits. I was finally feeling wanted. Someone finally wanted me to be happy and only because they knew I deserved to be. The first words she spoke to me still ring in my ears whenever I feel sad or wonder if everything was worth it. “Don’t cry.” What came after was never as important as those words, something about her being here for me, or the simple statement that she was there, I can’t recall. “Don’t cry.” She wanted me to be happy, she wanted me to smile.

I wanted to smile, just for her, but in all the neglect and ruin of my life, I couldn’t find the strength. I tried to force it a wide grin but it cracked my cheeks and my chapped lips burst open from waterless trials. I could feel the sting against my skin. That seemed to hurt her more than my wish to die. She saw me suffering and she saw how much I wanted to please her. She wanted legitimacy, that fake smile caused even more sadness to break over her face and I immediately let it fall trying to stop the pain. 

She reached to her side and produced a bottle of water that I held to my lips. It was chilled and tasted like copper as my bloodied lips fused with the liquid. I drank the entire bottle in one sitting, but she didn’t seem to care. In fact, she provided food and new clothes for me as she told her tale of how she came to be here. 

She loved this world and wanted everyone to feel happy again. Her name was Ramiel, she called herself an angel on a mission from the highest power, the righteous power of good. She told it in simple terms for my childish mind to understand. Talking about the struggles of fighting through the night and as the sun rose she asked me one simple question. “After everything you have heard, do you want to help everyone the same way?”

I thought about it. I knew that I didn’t want my life to be marked by uselessness, but that wasn’t the point. 

“I can give you purpose, but you have to want to help others.”

I nodded and told her that no matter what, I wanted to help those like me. I wanted to help people who were neglected by the demons of this world. I wanted the demons gone and I wanted everyone to be happy. No one should have to suffer as I had. I knew it would have been easier to just accept death, I was done with the fight for myself. For her, I was going to fight for others. 

She smiled at my decree and told me that she would make me her guardian. She read tales from a far-off land of wolves. They were humanoid creatures who saved travelers from being lost, they fed those who were hungry and would be the voice to mourn those forgotten and ill. She called me her Wulver, and slit her wrist telling me to drink and my spirit would find the strength to always save those I loved and fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. 

Her blood tasted like a warm glass of honey, it was thick and filled my insides with a warm coating that I could feel all the way to my toes. I felt different from the moment the blood touched my lips, a new sense of strength grew in my bones and my skin healed rapidly. The world grew clearer and everything sounded louder, it took a few days after the event for me to shift into a wolf. She loved watching me run around carefree and ready to fight for this world. 

I was brought to the other angels and they laughed at how small I was. Against the giants bred by Azrael and Uriel I was nothing. She didn’t care how I compared though. I was my own strength and she was proud of what I would accomplish. I showed everyone just how strong and loyal I was. Through everything I was the last remaining of the war beasts, I was the one to take down the most demons, surviving every battle, dodging every demonic spy, slaughtering each of the legions sent against my source of hope. 

It was after a great battle that left many dead where Ramiel decided she was no longer suited to be named an angel. She took the name Hope after the story I shared and the emotions she stirred in me. The drive to create deep in my gut, I knew everything with her was going to be okay. 

So that’s all there is to know about me, and my beginning. Nadia, you carry in your blood that same power, that beautiful feeling to inspire others, you just have to reach deep down inside of yourself and show us your own strength. Sure, you may not be good at fighting, but you are our Hope, you carry the light of everything good in the world and you do it without realizing how much of a burden it should be. Continue to be our light, continue to spread your hope and fuel those wishes shared by others to watch the world change. We need you, don’t ever forget that.”

“But what about all the bad she did.You even said it yourself.” Nadia twisted her can in her hands, squeaking the tin against her palm.

“After she experienced true loss she was changed. It wasn’t always bad, but don’t think that you can only be good or bad. I’ve seen good people do things absolutely terrible and I’ve seen moments when the most vile of people showed outstanding goodness.” She finally looked up again flashing a smile, “Don’t ever forget people are capable of both.”