It had been hours since Belle had last stirred, a statue of vigilance at her post. Rumors circulated that she never blinked, her hands, massive and strong, clasped tight around the hilt of her war hammer. Belle was not like the other Vicinage sisters. While most sported cascades of bleach-blonde hair, hers was short, dark brown. Yet, her twin, Jada, shared her dark hair but was undeniably more 'Vicinage' than Belle could ever hope to be. Belle was the black sheep, the ugly duckling, perpetually alone.
It was this profound sense of isolation that made her eternally grateful to Valery Snowdrift, the General of Defense, who had offered her a vital role: protecting the city and monitoring the colossal wall that bordered the wasteland. Belle would protect her sisters, even if they had long since abandoned her. She had seen Nikola present Electra with the Light Bringer, a weapon of crackling power, but had been too shy to request one for herself. Fortunately, Forgea, the blacksmith, a woman whose keen eye missed nothing, had crafted a bespoke hammer for Belle’s birthday. Belle was significantly larger and stronger than the other girls, and Forgea, with her practical wisdom, knew she required a weapon scaled to her formidable strength.
Belle trained relentlessly, every single day, yet she had never seen true action. She had initially yearned for a place on the attack force, the brave souls who ventured into the wasteland to battle the mutated zombies. But Blaze, the General of Attack, had scoffed, "Lose some weight first." So Belle remained grateful for Valery’s patronage, swearing unswerving loyalty to her leadership and to the city itself. Whatever Valery commanded, Belle had resolved to obey, without question.
Belle knew that tensions were escalating on the political front. The battle, she sensed, might soon shift from the city walls, from the zombie hordes, to within those very walls, pitting the noble families against each other. The Petalcrests currently held sway, bolstered by the other northern families: the Skylars and the Snowdrifts. The western families had fought alongside the northerners in the previous civil war, but now, the alliances were brittle. While the Torqueburns would forever remain loyal to the Petalcrests, the Mossbrook sisters were fractured; Viper and Shade, it was whispered, were growing dangerously close to the Tanzanights.
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Belle was often surprised by the sheer volume of gossip she absorbed simply by standing still. Few realized she was positioned high above them on the wall, within perfect earshot of their whispered rumors. Her post was directly above the most popular tavern in Cape Lumous, a raucous establishment where almost everyone not of noble blood came to drink, commiserate, and, most importantly, gossip. The rent was practically nonexistent, so the drinks were cheap, and a collective belief in the wall’s impenetrable strength fostered a false sense of security. Belle suspected Valery had placed her here not just for defense, but also for crowd control, should any tavern brawls escalate. Belle wasn’t keen on such duties; technically, that fell to the city police, but she harbored little faith in Justine Veilstorm, the Chief of that department.
The other western families, the Vicinages and the Reddingtons, had questionable allegiances. They might well align with the southern Tanzanights in a civil war, along with the other southern family, the Veilstorms. Belle shook her head, a rare, subtle movement. She didn’t trust the southerners; they had, after all, originally fought with the East during the last civil war. No, Belle resolved, her job was to defend the city – from outside threats and from internal ones. That meant the zombies weren't her only enemy. The Tanzanights and their new, chaotic material, Ether, were as well.
A shrill steam whistle pierced her thoughts, yanking her back to the present. The train was chugging out of the city, its destination the Tanzanight mines. Belle watched, her breath catching in her throat. Perched atop the train, her long, blonde hair whipping wildly in the wind, was her sister, Electra. In one hand, she clutched the Light Bringer. In the other, a glowing, pulsing purple stone.
