Violence

"Violent V," Fix calls me.
 
The colorful half-elf has a nickname for everyone, whether to imprint themselves on their chaotic mind or just because some Eisen names are honestly difficult to pronounce, I can not say. But the title thrills me. Fills me with the image of all the strength I had gained... over night.
 
I had been helpless so long, aside from a carefully cultivated mask of contempt I wore to keep myself safe as a Villeneuve without magic. But then, the kidnapping. All of my sharp words, and threats, and then desperate tricks, failed. My would-be captors were ready for all of them, carefully researched to ransom or leverage my powerful parents. But someone intervened: a Queen. And I was set free.
 
But the sheen has worn off. My Patron has come calling, and named me her Champion. To steal a blade from a Demon Lord of Undeath. It seems... impossible. A life's quest. I crowed to the Ravens that I had not the strength to fell a god YET, and they raucously echoed my words. The Queen chose her fool well, it seems.
 
But there is another Patron. A rose in scarlet silks who wants the old me. The soft me I had nearly forgotten, who I had buried back in Montaigne. A calling not of domination, but of submission.
 
Well, maybe domination too.
 
I don't know if I can be molded how she wants. She is a gifted teacher, but I'm a dull tool and an oddity besides. Alex insists I have potential. I want to believe her.
 
But I've been wrong about myself before.
 
Killer of Gods?
 
I saw death in that house. Not the fake death of Halloween. But real mortality. Writ large on lashing toothed tendrils, that were a second from snapping me in half. Some warrior I am. Some protector.
 
I'm just 'that Villeneuve girl,' still.