Chapter 1
Beatrice doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting there, in front of the Arc, when Camila finds her.
“Beatrice,” Camila whispers. Her hands cup Beatrice’s face and softly turn it to look her in the eyes. Her cheeks are cold to Camila’s touch. Beatrice isn’t sure how much Camila knows, and she doesn’t have it in her to ask, to mention anything on her own.
When their eyes meet, Camila recognises nothing but darkness in her sister’s eyes. Beatrice stares at Camila but seems to focus on a point beyond her head. “Beatrice, we have to leave. Now. Adriel’s followers are everywhere, they are confused, angry and violent.”
Beatrice stares at her sister. “I can’t, Camila,” she whispers, “I can’t, I have to – what if she comes back and needs me? I have to stay here.” Tears fill her eyes as she looks up at Camila. Beatrice's fingers tremble when she grabs her sister’s hands to move them out of her face.
“Oh Bea… I understand, I promise I do, but we have to leave. Please.” Beatrice shakes her head. Soft sobs escape her mouth.
“Camila, please… don’t make me leave,” she pleads with a strained voice.
Camila’s heart breaks a little when she looks into her sister’s eyes filled with tears and pain. “If you stay, they will find you and I am pretty sure they’ll rip you into pieces.”
Beatrice scoffs. “I’d like to see them try.”
“Well, we wouldn’t, Bea. We care about you, and you’re in no state to fight dozens of them. We want to make sure you’re safe. So please…”
Beatrice shakes her head vehemently. “I have to protect the Arc, Camila. For her. What if she comes back and they’re here, waiting for her? Mother Superion asked me to protect her, and I already failed once, Camila, I have to protect her, I… “ Her voice crumbles. She looks up at Camila with tears in her eyes. Her sister blinks rapidly to avoid tears of her own.
She gently brushes away the tears rolling down Beatrice’s cheeks. “There will be time, Bea. If – When she comes back, we will all be there. You don’t have to do this alone, your sisters will be there with you, every step of the way. But right now, I need you to come with me, or else you won’t be there for her when she comes back.”
Beatrice stares at her in silence, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Camila extends her hand and, reluctantly, Bea grabs it. Camila exhales. “It’s okay,” she says, not to Beatrice but to her sisters over the radio. “I’ve got her, we’re heading home.”
Beatrice doesn’t remember much of what happened after. Camila drags her outside ArqTech through deserted passages to avoid running into lose zealots. Somehow, eventually, they end up back at Jillian’s villa. When they enter, they find Jillian, Mother Superion, and all her sisters waiting for them in the entrance hall. The looks on their faces are unmistakable. Defeat, anger, grief. Beatrice wonders how much they know. What has Yasmine told them
“I’m sorry, Jillian,” Beatrice mumbles, not sure if anyone but Camila is even able to hear her. She takes a deep breath. “Michael, he – Ava… They didn’t…” For the first time since she can remember, Beatrice is at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” she whispers eventually and stares to the ground to avoid having to see the reactions of their friends. Jillian’s sobs sound through the hall, consuming the space. Beatrice doesn’t dare to look at anyone. She doesn’t want to see their grief-stricken faces and be reminded of the reality of it all. Her hands jerk at her sides, searching for someone to hold on to before she realises there is no one there. Not the one who should be, anyway.
“Beatrice.” She raises her head as Mother Superion approaches. She has her characteristic stern look on her face but her eyes shimmer and Beatrice notices a single tear rolling down her face. Mother Superion puts a hand on her shoulder. “You did great. The OCS is eternally grateful for what you did today… The world is grateful.”
Beatrice averts her eyes but manages a nod. “Get some rest,” Mother Superion says before turning to Camila. “Make sure she gets some rest, Camila.”
Camila grabs Beatrice’s arms and gently pushes her upstairs and into the room she moved into a few days ago, where she starts untying Beatrice’s armour.
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Beatrice hears herself tell Camila. Her sister raises her hands innocently and takes a step back. Beatrice doesn’t look her in the eyes as she continues undressing. She loosens the knots of her armour carefully, focused on keeping her hands steady and her mind from wandering. These are routines she’s familiar with. Something she knows she can do. Something to keep her hands busy.
“Beatrice?” Camila asks, one hand on the doorhandle. Beatrice looks up and into her sister’s tear-streaked face. “I am so sorry,” Camila whispers and a sob sounds trough the room. Beatrice doesn’t answer. “Let me know if there is anything I can do for you…” Beatrice averts her gaze, looks back down to her hands. Camila quietly opens the door and slips outside.
Silence fills the room. Slowly, Beatrice sits down on the bed, her armour still on. She stares at the frescoes at the ceiling but has trouble making out anything specific. Her hands find their way to the cross around her neck.
Warrior Nuns die. Beatrice knows that, she has known that ever since she first witnessed it. For her, this has always been a truth, though an inconvenient one. She watched so many of her sisters die for a greater purpose, she thought she would eventually get used to the pain of losing her friends until, well, until it would their turn to mourn for her. When Shannon died, Beatrice grieved along with her sisters. Then they moved on. When Mary couldn’t, Beatrice did her best to be considerate, not to fault her for getting consumed by her desire for revenge, or justice, as Mary called it. Hatred, she had been taught, was the wrong reason for fighting.
When Mary died, Beatrice had Ava. Ava held her, and the simple fact that she was present helped Beatrice to not be consumed by grief or anger. Now, with Ava gone, who would be there to pick up the pieces?
Beatrice knows that she sent Ava through the portal for a reason. It was the only hope for her to keep her safe, and, eventually, to keep her to herself. She wonders now if it was the right decision. Even though she wishes these thoughts wouldn’t occur, she keeps asking herself but what if she doesn’t return? What if I lost her, forever?
Warrior Nuns die. During the last months, Beatrice’s mind was quick to remind her of this. It did so whenever Ava was in danger. When they fought the FBC in Switzerland, when Vincent kidnapped her in Madrid, when the Halo gave out and Ava hit the ground and Beatrice held her lifeless body in her arms. Yet, some part of her always hoped it wasn’t true. Some part of her always hoped that even though Warrior Nuns die, Ava wouldn’t. Not Ava, who never wanted any of this. Not Ava, who is a bundle of pure joy and wonder, whose innocence and appreciation of life make Beatrice forget about the very real threats in the world. Ava didn’t ask to be the Warrior Nun. She didn’t ask for the so-called ‘privilege’ of getting to sacrifice herself for a higher cause. For Ava, sacrificing herself was the absolute worst-case scenario. She had just gotten her life back, why would she want to give it up? It doesn’t seem fair to Beatrice, to expect Ava to give it all up. No one should have expected Ava to give it all up. It doesn’t seem fair to have Ava sacrifice herself for a world that never cared for her. For most of her life, people treated her shitty, and Beatrice thinks she could understand if Ava didn’t give a damn about what happened to any of them.
But Beatrice also knows that Ava’s decision was hers alone to make, and that she struggled with it. Eventually, she must have decided to sacrifice herself for the world, so that the few people that did care about her could live their lives. Even though the world treated her badly, Ava remained open hearted and willing to put other’s needs before her own. When you put it that way, Beatrice thinks, it’s almost admirable. Almost, because no matter how hard she tries to understand Ava’s sacrifice, let alone appreciate it as Ava asked her to, all she can see is unfairness, anger, and pain. They had no right to her life. They had no right to expect Ava to sacrifice herself for any of them, and everyone who did must be so selfish Beatrice feels sick.
Her eyes are burning and the tears welling up cloud her vision. Somewhere inside her chest a heavy, ominous void appears. Beatrice tries to push it down, but it only grows until she feels it pressing against her heart, making it hard to breathe. She lets herself fall onto the mattress and forces herself to take deep breaths. The air she sucks in desperately does not quite seem to reach her lungs. Her breathing quickens, and yet, for some reason, Beatrice seems to run out of oxygen. The colourful ceiling starts to flash before her eyes. Humans, flowers, animals keep growing until they become too big for the confines of the painting and start to float through the space and towards Beatrice. For a brief moment, she considers screaming for help but then the ceiling is upon her, pressing on her chest with suffocating force and pushing her down through the mattress and into the dark.
When Beatrice wakes up, she finds Mother Superion and Camila at her bedside, whispering intensely to each other. When she realises Beatrice is awake, Camila shushes and both women turn to face her.
“Beatrice,” Mother Superion says. “Jillian heard screaming from your room and came to notify us. It seems you suffered a mild panic attack.” She pauses, frowning at Beatrice. “It is absolutely essential that you rest properly. If you need anything, call for Camila. She will provide anything you need.”
“Well, almost anything,” Camila mumbles under her breath and Mother Superion shoots her a sharp look. Mother Superion reaches for Beatrice’s shoulder, examining her with a worried look on her face. From up close, Beatrice can see that her eyes are wet and red. “Rest, Beatrice. You don’t have to look after anyone else, let your sisters look after you for once. That is what family is for.” Then she turns around and leaves Beatrice and Camila be.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Bea?” Camila asks quietly
.
Beatrice shakes her head. She can’t think of anything that doesn’t require supernatural abilities on Camila’s part. “I can also just sit here and keep you company, you know?” Camila offers and tentatively takes Bea’s hand. “Or if you want to talk to someone. I am here for you, Bea.”
Beatrice tries a smile but it feels foreign on her face. She still can’t muster up the strength to say anything. Talk? Talk about what? She doesn’t think there are any words to describe the pain she’s in. Words couldn’t express the emptiness and uncertainty she woke up to. The simple lack of Ava is not something she can grasp yet. Beatrice can’t manage more than a sigh.
“It’s okay, Bea. You don’t have to pretend. You don’t have to hide your pain. Just feel it, let it be.”
Beatrice’s eyes scan Camila’s face. Her body starts trembling with sobs, softly at first. Her eyes fill with tears until she breaks out in sobs and her body is shaking violently. Immediately, Camila gets up to hug her sister. “It’s not fair,” Beatrice whimpers into Camila’s ears. “It’s not fair Camila. She never wanted any of this and now she’s gone, and…”
Camila’s hands softly stroke Beatrice’s hair. She remains silent and waits for her sister to continue.
“I know there’s no one to blame but Adriel, I know that but… I just can’t stop asking myself why? Why would He let it happen? And I feel so horrible for saying it but why her? I just… We just…” Beatrice looks up at Camila, who is still holding her and crying silently.
“I don’t think I can do it without her, Camila.” Beatrice pulls out of Camila’s embrace and instead hides her tear-streaked face in her hands. “I feel so terrible, I feel like a failure. I failed to protect her.”
“No, Beatrice, you didn’t. Ava did the most Ava thing she could, and that is to look out for everyone else, she did it because – “
“I failed her!” Beatrice suddenly shouts at Camila, who startles. “I couldn’t protect Ava and if I can’t protect the people that I love most then what am I still here for?”
“Bea,” Camila whispers and slowly pulls her back into a hug, giving her space to pull away if she needs to. “Listen to me, you are still here because we love you, and we care for you, and we will be here and be your support system for as long as you need us to. I understand you are hurting. I understand you feel like you couldn’t protect her, Bea. But Ava is Ava. She was never good at listening to others. And she set her mind to it, so no one could have been able to stop her. But most importantly, she wanted it because she loved us. She loved her sisters. And she loved you, Bea.”
“I – I can’t –“ Beatrice gasps for air in between sobs. “I put us all into danger when we first tried to take Adriel down, Camila. And you want to know why? Because I let my feelings get in the way of the mission. I compromised the mission to save Ava’s life. Because I wasn’t ready to lose her, not even for the sake of the entire goddamn world. I ruined our plan because I couldn’t lose Ava. And look where it got us. I feel anger, and pain, and I know there is nothing I can do now. I know I shouldn’t let anger and pain consume me but it’s – there’s just so, so… much of it and it’s suffocating me and –“
Camila grabs Beatrice by the shoulders and shakes her. “Beatrice.” Her voice is stern. “Look me in the eyes and listen!” Reluctantly, Beatrice looks up. “You are not a failure, Beatrice. And I won’t let you believe that about yourself for one minute. We love you. You are wonderful. You are Smart, talented, kind, caring. And that is why Ava loved you. And don’t you dare forget it because if you do, it will be an insult to Ava. Every time you belittle yourself you invalidate Ava’s feelings for you, and I can’t let that happen. Understood?”
Beatrice’s eyes shift down to her hands folded in her lap. “Past tense. You’re using past tense, Camila. You make it sound like she’s dead.” And with that, she turns her back to Camila. Camila remains next to her sister’s bed for a moment before she exhales shakily and then turns around to leave. “I’m sorry, Bea,” she whispers, barely loud enough for Beatrice to hear, and exits the room.
In her dream, Beatrice stands at the edge of a cliff. The water beneath her is pitch black and the waves crash against the stones with a deafening thunder. Beatrice stares down into the turbulent dark and tries to make sense of what she sees. She tries to remember what she is doing here. When she looks around, she realises she is alone. The plain beyond her is desolate and lifeless. She starts walking along the edge, not knowing where she is going or what exactly she is looking for. Then, suddenly, a bright blue flash rips through the air. Beatrice’s heart stops when she hears a scream. Immediately, she turns around and runs towards the noise.
“Ava?” Beatrice screams. No answer. In the distance, Beatrice can make out a dark pile lying on the ground. Her pace quickens, even though something in the back of her mind is desperately screaming at her to stop. To turn around and run into the other direction.
When she reaches the bundle, she recognises it as human. Her hands grab it without her consent and turn it around. Ava’s lifeless face is staring back at her. Her skin is gray and black with ash, her eyes are mere black pits and smoke is rising from them. With a stifled scream, Beatrice drops Ava’s head but immediately picks it up again and cradles it against her chest. Her scream rips through the cold air. She looks around as if expecting someone to show up in this wasteland to help her.
The storm over the sea has intensified. The spray of the waves crashing against the cliffs now reaches Beatrice where she is kneeling with a limp Ava in her arms.
“Let me go, Beatrice.” Shocked, Beatrice turns her gaze back to Ava’s face. The same lifeless dark pits stare back at her. “Let me go.” The voice is unmistakably coming from the body in her arms, even though it still lies dead in her arms. “Please, let me go.” The voice shifts from hollow command to sad pleading. “Let me go, please. I am in so much pain.”
“No,” Beatrice murmurs. “No, not this time.”
“Let me go, Bea. I can’t go on like this. It hurts too much.”
Beatrice sobs heavily but her hands wrap around Ava’s legs. She gently presses Ava’s body against her as she gets on her feet. Carefully, she treads over the rough ground to the edge of the cliff.
“Please, Bea.” Ava’s voice weak voice asks again.
Beatrice buries her face in Ava’s shoulder, if only for a moment. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, Ava,” she whispers. She takes the last step to the cliff’s edge and stares down into the clashing waves. “I love you,” she whispers and lets Ava’s body roll out of her arms and down into the darkness.
With a violent jerk, Beatrice awakes. Her heart is racing as she blinks to try and make out her surroundings.
“It’s alright, Bea, I’m here.” Camila’s voice sounds through the dark. Beatrice feels a hand gently brushing against hers. “You’re okay.”
Beatrice is still breathing heavily, though the shock is fading and instead, grief is creeping up inside her chest to wrap its arms around her heart.
She is still in her room at Jillian’s. The curtains are drawn, but beyond them, darkness has spread over Spain.
“I had a nightmare,” Beatrice whispers, as if it was necessary to clarify.
Camila softly squeezes her hand. “It’s alright. I heard you shout her name.”
Once again, tears are rolling down Beatrice’s cheeks. “I had to let her go, Camila. She was in so much pain I couldn’t bear it. I just – I had to.”
“I know, Bea. We all know. It’s okay, nobody is criticising you for anything you did. You did what was best for Ava. Because you love her, and we will never fault you for that.”
Beatrice stares at Camila for a moment, while the woman is softly caressing her arms with her thumb. Beatrice’s eyes wander over Camila’s face as if she’s searching for something. She repeatedly opens her mouth like she wants to say something but never goes through with it. Camila waits patiently. She knows when not to press Beatrice. She will sit here and hold her hand as long as Bea needs her to and should that be all night, she will stay all night.
Eventually, Beatrice’s eyes meet Camila’s. She doesn’t look scared or frenzied anymore. Now all Camila recognises in her eyes is grief. “I did love her, you know,” Beatrice finally says.
Camila gets up from her chair and moves into Beatrice’s bed to wrap her arms around her. “I know. I know, Bea.”
“I don’t think I will ever not love her, Camila,” Bea mumbles against her shoulder and Camila’s heart clenches.
“I know,” she says, because she doesn’t know what else there is to say. “I am sorry for your pain.”