Ava was a beauty to her eyes, like a mere painting sitting elegantly behind a glassed frame. Every syllable falling out of her mouth lighted up the dimmed hallways of the church where she kneeled and prayed to be forgiven, every day and night to a point she bled.
The pull Ava had was stronger than the years of prayer because in a way, in a very selfish way this was what her heart desired. The Sisters, the church, saw Ava as an angel, some even said “Ava is the reincarnation of Jesus”, it could be true, or it could be wrong, whatever it was Ava broke into her heart, this was a fact, an undeniable fact.
What could she do now? Right now she’s watching Ava sparring handsomely, her muscles gleaming under the light, elevating the warrior which resided deep inside her, unbeknownst to her. It was obvious Ava's opponent, Lilith, the greatest fighter would lose, despite the arrogant grin plastered all over Lilith’s face.
“You can do it Ava. Break her.” She whispered softly to Ava, as she said, she trained her eyes on Lilith, sending a warning glare. She may have known Lilith longer than Ava but she sure as hell would do anything for the little gremlin compared to her Sister she had taken oath with.
“I don’t think I can beat her Bea.” Ava said, bending down resting both of her hands on her knees, huffing and puffing as though she was about to die. Hearing her own heart throbbing in her ears, making her head spin, churning her stomach, she wanted to run away, go to the farthest part of the world rather than be here, fighting.
“Giving up so soon? Pathetic.” Lilith mocked. She moved like a serpent, precisely methodical, calculative, ten steps ahead. She could predict Ava’s next five moves before she could take a step forward. She knew Ava was exceptionally strong, but the way she fought was predictable, too predictable. If Ava were to lunge at her to punch her jaw, Lilith would simply kick her leg, Ava would fall, she had fallen for the past three times the exact same way. Ava may be strong yet she hasn’t learned to be quick witted like herself or Beatrice.
“Mirror her.” She levelled herself with Ava and told her. “Go for her neck in the end because she would not go for yours.”
Beatrice’s words gave Ava a renewed hope. She straightened her back, stretching herself to tear Lilith apart, because why not? What worse could happen?
Therefore, she watched Ava becoming Lilith and she watched Lilith’s confidence shaking little by little. But of course she knew Lilith would figure out in the next one minute what Ava's plan except for the last part. Her grin grew wider as Lilith’s, only she knows Lilith has not what it takes to go for the neck, but Ava has, Ava may seem vulnerable, childlike but she was ruthless, she would make the hardest choice if she has to without batting an eye, that was why she was the chosen one, not Lilith. Lilith would hesitate as she would now in the next few minutes, afterall Lilith too was predictable. You judge someone so determinedly that you don’t realise that you are them.
And the sparring began. Ava moved, slithered as Lilith, dangerously beautiful, she missed and took punches the same amount Lilith did and she noticed Lilith becoming tired, although she never let it be seen on her face. A glint of mischief crossed her eyes as she realised she was coming to the end because Lilith’s move had begun to falter.
As they fought, Beatrice stood leaning against the pillar, hands folded over her chest, her face saying that Ava would win, it’s inevitable, Ava would always win. Then the realisation panged to her face, the faith she had on Ava was stronger, pure, innocent than she ever had on God. At this point, watching the Warrior Nun fight she asked herself, if she had really believed in God? If she did then why would a faith deemed so strong could be wavered by a woman?
In an instant she heard a loud thud, it was the sound of Lilith, the greatest fighter falling to the ground. “Okay you win!” She heard Lilith’s pleading voice, slender hands holding tightly to her neck as Ava stood towering over her. It was purely magical to witness such a scene, it wasn’t much for a normal person's eye but to her, this was something she would scribble secretly on her diary like the whispers of the ghosts that haunted the walls of the convent.
Before her body reacted to her brain’s message, she was swathed by warmth, a radiant warmth hugged her tall figure tightly, “I won Bea!” Air left her lungs, planets crashed together, time stood still in her mind as Ava’s sweet fragrance made her haywire. Instead of returning the hug, she was standing quietly, wondering if she should step in the pit of fire. If she did, she would get Ava. Was it worth it? Was Ava worth eternal suffering?
10 year old Beatrice screamed, “No! Don’t!” But 10 year old Beatrice had no clue what it feels like to be embraced by the warrior nun herself. So the 23 year old Beatrice took a leap of faith, pulling Ava closer to her, breathing her in, “You’re worth it Ava Silva, you’re so worth it.” She murmured against Ava’s head.