[ Obligatory Warning. This chapter contains some content that readers may not find comfortable, such as...
Child abuse
Sexual Assault
Please read with caution ]
I have been called many things in my lifetime. Martha, Miss Simmonds, Commander, Ma'am, Dame, Marcy and even Master Commander.
But none of those titles have hit in the same way that Mother does.
Truthfully, I never believed that I would be a mother. For a very long time, I did not believe that I would become anything. I expected to become another common soul on the streets, insignificant to the world yet still there and living. Taking the air. Drinking the water. Eating the food.
In fact, I had no desire to be a mother. Because if being a mother meant to be like the monster I lived with, to make those weaker than me suffer, I would rather die in the streets and be carted off like trash.
But that monster bearing the title of mother saw value in me. Something she had never even considered.
She saw value in my appearance.
She saw the greedy hands of people decades older than me, wishing to caress my purple lockes like the new night sky for any cost.
She saw the value of my clear blue eyes, though dull when she looked away. Eyes that people would die to have gaze at them.
She saw value in my smooth skin despite our living arrangements, despite her punishments. So clear and soft, that people could just take a bite out of it like fresh bread.
Yet she saw no value in me as her child. Her own flesh and blood. As I saw no value in her as the one who had held me in her womb for months upon months. Neither of us valued each other for our relationship, but the benefits we could bring.
I have had the blood of many men stain my hands, but staining my hands with hers was the only instance I truly remember.
It was the only one that I truly felt no regret over.
I can still remember the expression on her face. Walking back into our home with such a proud grin on her face, tossing a bag of clinking coins in her hand. Her job never earned that much money. She got paid on Saturday.
She had sold me, her ten-year-old daughter, to a whore house. And grinning ear to ear about it.
What I felt was not rage, nor disappointment. It was surrender. It was what I had always expected. The only thing I expected from her. I was prepared to leave quietly to that place of debauchery, if it would truly bring her joy.
But with that money. The money she got from selling me. She went to a restaurant and bought herself a feast, drank herself silly. Then had the gall, the audacity to come back into our home penniless with me starving.
Stinking of booze and giggling like a fool.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and ask what she thought she was doing. I wanted to berate her, to grab her by the hair and force the drunkenness out of her.
Gorging yourself instead of giving your daughter her last meal at home.
And then I could hear through her giggles.
"It's such a shame. The brothel next door surely would've paid more for that thing."
"Maybe I should've let our neighbors borrow it. It surely would've been steadier."
"How useless. She hasn't even got any magic."
"If only I had birthed more of pretty things like that."
The phrases surrounded my head and wrapped my heart and mind in barbed wire. I had truly never entered her eyes. I had never been her daughter, her responsibility to raise and love.
I had always just been a thing for her to pass around as she wished. An animal to be sent out to slaughter.
A beast she had tamed.
Perhaps it was then that I cast away a piece of my heart and mind. The parts that longed for that affection I had seen so many other mothers give their children. The smiles, the warmth, the worth.
The belonging.
I had lost myself. I don't know when I stood up, ignoring her giggling and rancid scent as I walked past.
Going through the drawers.
Grabbing that dull kitchen knife she would've been able to replace with that dirty money.
Plunged it into her chest with power I never knew I had.
Ignored the burning, tingling sensations, the pain I had grown used to from her lightning magic as I went in again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Andagainandagainandagainandagain.
I had done it until I was sure she was dead. That the cursed magic of hers could no longer hurt me.
Sure that I wouldn't have to deal with her stupidity any longer.
I had dropped that dingy knife and finally gazed at my hands and arms. So very scrawny, yet covered in cooling blood. The evidence of the power I had just felt.
A cool wind blew through the house that night, as a slain monster lay in the main room. Instead of feeling it freeze me to the bone, it felt warm and comforting. Like a friend.
The useless child who could never even dream of using magic felt it surge through her like a tornado for a whole night.
In the morning, I stumbled out of that place I once called home and began to walk. Blood still on my pathetic form.
The reason no one had heard the monster screaming in agony was because of my magic, having activated on its own to restrict her air flow. Not only did I stab her, but I suffocated her as well. Truly, I was a beast.
Like mother, like daughter.
I had walked through the cold streets of the early morning, many people still asleep or barely.
Somehow, I had stumbled my way right into the line of sight of a patrolling city guard. He had seen me and instantly grew worried for my well-being.
A foreign concept to that young, beastly little girl known as Martha.
"Are you alright, little girl?! Where is your mother or father?! What happened?!"
I had not replied to that man. Though when I thought back to that incident as an adult, I cannot help but feel admiration for a man so dedicated to his job. To charge towards a bloodied child without fear nor hesitation.
I'd comment on his not so sharp mind, but that would be quite rude.
That man, had he not found me that night, would've surely walked past my dying body in an alley. I had somehow cut myself with that dull knife while attacking that monster. Multiple times. In dangerous places.
That man's care was the first kindness I had ever experienced in my life. The second was the doctor who treated me and allowed me to sleep in her hospital as they searched for my parents.
The third was the judge of those lands I had once lived in pardoning my terrifying crime as self-defense. A child backed into a corner by her very own mother wanting to live, they had said.
I was not living. I did not live for a very long time.
I survived.
I crawled out of the gutters, I fed on trash, was treated as waste.
But I survived.
I survived when they put me into an orphanage, with people running it that had the same thoughts as that monster I had slain.
I survived when I was adopted by a lowly noble house, forced to be the punching bag of a young master.
I survived to be discovered by a knight, that silver-haired woman who saw herself in me. Who struck fear in the eyes of that family.
I survived her training. I survived my failure. I survived my success.
I survived that tough love that I could truly tell was affection.
I survived the knight tourney, where they looked down on my small frame and delicate appearance. Some of them did not.
I survived to take first place and be given the privilege to join the Andize Army at the age of twenty.
I survived the lecherous thoughts of my idiotic superior, who only knew how to judge her subordinates by their pretty faces.
I survived that battle that she almost got every single one of my comrades killed in. I watched her fall in the battlefield. I rallied what was left of our meager forces and made our enemy retreat.
I survived the jealousy of those around me as I rose in the ranks.
I survived their low blows at my commoner status, their jeers at my gender. I survived those because they meant nothing to me, who had seen and walked through hell without a second thought.
I survived their fear of my power once I wiped an entire battlefield clean, leaving only the red blood of my foes upon the ground and my armor.
I survived my position as Master Commander, the motions becoming mechanical, the trainings dull. The King increasingly annoying.
I survived and somewhat enjoyed the companionship I received from Duke Dubannes and his wife, the man the same age as me who had gained his position through blood but had to suffer under the king just like I, a commoner.
I slowly began to live once I met her.
A rare day off when I decided to go for a stroll in the streets of the kingdom's capital. A small cafe I had enjoyed. It was quiet.
Though the quiet was interrupted by some idiots harassing a young lady, calling her a 'dirty Endymite'.
I had to abandon my quiet lunch to beat them over their heads with each other before watching them scurry off. The lady my age, perhaps older than me, thanking me with a soft voice. Refusing to meet my eyes.
Her skin was a dark color, typical of those from the Endymion Empire. Ebony hair in a long braid going down her back and pink, fuchsia eyes. It was those eyes that made her memorable to me.
Gradually, I noticed that I seemed to be able to see her everywhere. At first it was small things. My meals already being paid for at restaurants, orders I made for clothes already paid for as well, gifts or useless trinkets in my office. I thought nothing of it.
I became especially attached to a small bunny wood carving that had been sent. After I showed any bit of interest towards it, more bunny themed items would show up.
When I met the little gift giver again, I had a purple bunny shoved into my arms and a sudden yell of-
"My name is Lianne Nsoki! Thank you!"
Before she disappeared again.
Like a shy bunny.
I began to see her more and more, mainly to have her give me presents and then run away. At some point, we began to give greetings and farewells to each other when I received my gift. I learned more about her and she learned more about me.
And somehow, on some day, she had kissed me.
And it felt nice.
We only became more and more intimate as time passed. I grew comfortable in her presence, like I did not have to be Master Commander Martha before her. I could just be Marcy, her girlfriend.
I could never be happy for a long time. Lianne, the one woman I believed I could trust, betrayed me.
It had been a normal afternoon on one of my days off. We were having tea. My guard was down.
I was an idiot to think I could trust anyone. Especially her.
I slowly grew sleepier and sleepier, feeling as if something was wrong. It settled heavy in my gut, a persistent worry. Yet I had still fallen asleep.
Because I thought that I was safe.
I knew for a fact I wasn't safe when I woke up in bed next to her, naked as the day I was born. Without any recollection to how it could have happened.
Only an uncomfortable feeling in my mind and between my legs.
I don't believe despair was a word with enough power to explain how I felt on that day and the days after it. I had left that place after finding my clothes, leaving not even a suggestion that I had ever been there. Ran all the way to my abode on the royal estate without greeting a single person.
It was only once I was in my locked bedroom that I broke down on the floor in tears for the first time since I was that beastly little girl longing for a mother's love.
I felt terrible. I felt betrayed. Most of all, I felt ashamed. Ashamed that I had let such a thing happen to me, the strongest swordswoman in the kingdom. Perhaps on the continent. I felt like I shouldn't be in my own skin.
Yet I told no one of what happened, fearing that they would look down on my weakness. Of my helplessness.
Look at me with pity. Even though it was not my fault.
It only got worse when I realized that there was another life growing inside of me. The person I had trusted, loved, and hated had left me a final mocking goodbye.
That bastard. That bitch. That trash.
I knew that she had one, but I never thought she'd use it on me without my knowledge nor consent.
I had sat on my bed all that day, hand upon my stomach with nothing on my mind but self loathing.
Yet never did it cross my mind to get rid of that little life growing inside of me. I did not hate it, whatever it might be.
I hated who put it there.
I was truly terrified of what that child meant. What that little being would mean to me. It would be my child. My flesh and blood. My responsibility.
It made me think of that monster I slayed so long ago. Would I become the monster in this life's story? Something they had to slay to progress and grow? Would they become nothing but a thing to me?
I didn't want that. I would much rather run a sword through myself than turn into such a thing. To keep this child's life good, to make it nothing like mine, I must leave this place.
I ignored any attempted contact from Lianne. I resigned from my position of Master Commander. I called in a favor from the Duke of Archom, that Dubannes man.
And I left the capital to live in that household humbly. They forced me to be treated as a guest as I stayed there while my stomach grew bigger and bigger as did my fear.
Then, when that little life finally decided to come out, screaming and crying I felt relief. It was when she was placed in my arms and I finally got a good look at her scrunched up face...
That I was filled with an unimaginable feeling of joy.
She was small, fitting in my arms like she belonged there. Quieting down as soon as I held her, eyes still not opened. Warm and a little wet.
The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
My most precious treasure.
My new reason to live.
All I had known for almost all my life had been battle, the sword, and blood. When I left that behind for this little girl, I had no idea what I should do. What I should be doing. What to live for.
That is the present she brought with her. My reason to live.
My little Ava. The little bird I hope will never be stuck in a cage and my reason to live.
I watched her grow bigger. I fed her, seeing what foods she liked and hated. I heard her say her very first words, no longer babble, but the call of my proudest achieving title.
I watched her become more and more beautiful. I saw her grow stronger, more confident and wise. I saw her work her hardest and be surrounded by love. I saw her come to harm, become sick, terrify me half to death with even the possibility of losing her.
I saw her become a woman. From the little baby I once could hold in my arms to a young lady looking out at the world with ambition and the abilities to do whatever she put her mind to.
I saw my Ava become the world's Ava.
My little bird that had flown from the nest to bring her brilliant song and plumage to the world at large.
And I believe that is truly the greatest benefit brought about by my very proudest title. More prestigious than any I could ever receive.
Mother.
[ I have it. The Martha chapter. I legit started crying while writing this chapter, guys. Seriously 😭😭😭. I just want the best for Martha and Ava for reals. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter if you decided to read it. As always, thanks for supporting VRP and have a great day or night. ]