Warrior NUN: Margo

PROLOGUE- "Exodus 23:20"

Margo clutched the engraved gold-plated talisman around her neck, it was all she had left. She stood at the entry of the apartment and through blurry eyes watched the enraged fire swallow all her belongings. The apartment wasn't anything special, but it was the only place where she could remember both her parents vibrant and happy. Her father was a strong and proud man, never forgetting his roots and through hardships would hold steadfast to his faith; something he tried to instill in her, but she never took to it. Neither did her mother and maybe that is what caused their separation. Her mother was a gentle soul, always smiling and always loving but was free-spirited and didn't believe in being controlled by religious practices. The memories of who they used to be wilted and cracked under the ferocious flames, turning to ash and dust.

"Ma'am...MA'AM! the firefighter exclaimed, "you shouldn't be in here. Is there anyone else inside?"

Margo paused as the question echoed in her memory. She placed her arms on the cool steel table and stared at the case worker across from her.

"And then what happens?"

"And then... I usually wake up."

"So...your dream just stops," Dr. Sheffield stared blankly at her, "And you're sure you don't remember anything else?"

"No," Margo replied hastily, "After the firefighters pulled me out, I guess I passed out."

"And your mother? What about your mother Margo?"

"I don't know," she replied softly holding back her tears, "I guess she's dead."

"Well we don't know that for sure, there were no remains found in the apartment," Dr. Sheffield said looking over the paperwork.

"She has to be. I've been in this facility for almost 4 months and she hasn't come and looked for me," she said as her eyes welded with tears, "she always does."

"Margo," Dr. Sheffield paused, "has your mother done this before?"

"It was an accident," Margo sighed deeply, "A couple years ago our apartment burned down...but she was using then. She's been clean for a year now," Margo said lowering her head.

"Well...she could be healing just like you...in another facility perhaps," Dr. Sheffield replied trying to sound hopeful.

"Well why won't anyone tell me anything?!" she shrieked, "I'm not a child anymore, either my mother was in that fire or she wasn't!"

"Margo, all we want to do is to see you recover and reconnect you with your mom. We appreciate your maturity for your age, but the situation is a little more complicated than that."

"Complicated? How?" Margo questioned raising her brow.

"You have dual citizenship in Spain. Unfortunately, if we are unable to locate your mother, I am afraid that you will have to live with a... Cristóbal Pena," she said fumbling through the paperwork.

"My father," she whispered.

"Oh," Dr. Sheffield sat back in her chair, "Tell me about your father."

"Well," Margo sighed, "the truth is, I don't remember much about him. He left when I was seven. Prison," she mumbled, "This is the only thing I have left of him," she continued clutching the talisman around her neck.

"Archangel," Dr. Sheffield mumbled looking over Margo's case file.

"Huh?"

"Oh nothing. I was just commenting that it's a symbol for Michael the Archangel."

"Oh," she replied in a low tone.

"Are you catholic too?"

"It's my father's faith," she replied firmly.

"And your mother?" Dr. Sheffield continued looking through her file, "What was she?

"My mother is a free-spirit."

"I see," she said with a half-smile, "Well, Margo...until we can locate your mother, I'm afraid that you will be placed in the care of your father in Spain."

"I can't move to Spain!"

"You have no choice Margo."

"But I don't even know my father."

"It says here that your father returned to Spain after he was released from prison and is now a part of the order."

"Order?" she said raising a brow.

"He is a brother," she said reassuringly flashing a symbol marked on her wrist.

"What is that?" Margo said leaning in.

"It is the mark of a sister."

"You're catholic?" Margo questioned.

"Yes, and I can assure you, if your father has taken vows to devote himself to the cause of the order, he will take very good care of you."

"But that still doesn't change the fact that I don't know him," she said leaning back in her chair, "and I have no interest in getting involved with any of his religious practices."

"Unfortunately, at this time, there is nothing I can do," Dr. Sheffield sighed, "You have to go with a living parent. You're still a minor."

"Please," Margo urged, "I know my mother is out there. Please keep looking," she continued with tears in her eyes.

"We'll keep looking," Dr. Sheffield replied firmly rising from her chair, "We'll keep looking."

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CONFIRMATION- "Ephesians 4:22-24"

Two years later...

Margo rolled over to the other side of her twin-size bed to silence her blaring alarm. She was convinced that waking up thirty minutes early to her alarm was a far better sound than the 15-minute bellowing of church bells that would jolt her out of her sleep signifying the beginning of morning prayer. She sat up and peeled back her covers and slipped out of bed. Her roommates were still sound asleep. She grabbed her shower caddy and tip-toed to the door and made her way down the corridors to the common area; if sister Francis knew she was out roaming the halls at this hour she would have a few choice words about her following innate instructions even about lavatory use. However, Margo felt it worth the risk because this was the only alone time she would be granted during her day; the nuns ran a tight schedule.

Margo's toes flinched as she touched the chilled ceramic floor and turned the old metallic dial of the shower. As the steam filled the room and the warm drops of water washed over her, her mind faded into dullness replaying the events that occurred two years prior. Her mother was gone and as soon as she landed in Spain, her father gave her up to the church. He said it was for her benefit because she was lost and with instruction through the church, she would find herself in God. Margo closed her eyes allowing the water to rinse over her face and the heat soak into her skin. She tried to drown out the idea of being abandoned; she couldn't understand why she felt so hurt by it, they didn't know each other.

Knock! Knock!

"Margo, it's us!" a gentle whisper said on the other side of the door.

"Us who?" Margo whispered back.

"Marla, Simone, and Paige. We wanted to wish you a happy birthday!"

Margo turned off the steaming shower abruptly causing the old pipes to moan and rattle. She inhaled deeply and wrapped herself in her towel. Her roommates, who dubbed as her classmates, had no sense of privacy. She swung open the shower door to see her disheveled roommates anxiously standing across from her.

"You do know it's not my birthday right," Margo replied slightly raising her brow.

"Oh, we know," Paige said with a smile, "but it's been exactly two years since you came to St. Joseph's, so in a way it's kind of like your birthday."

"Yea, so we wanted to get you something," Marla chimed in.

"Here," Simone said pulling a small box from behind her back handing it to her, "We all pitched in."

Margo opened the small box that encased a small charm. She didn't know what to think. She had tried not to get too close to anyone since arriving at St. Joseph's, especially her roommates. They were always prying for information and trying to include her in stuff. Eventually she realized that they wouldn't give up and their efforts were harmless; they had formed a unique bond, they were sisters.

"It's Michael, the Archangel. Like the one you used to wear around your neck," Simone continued, "we know it's not exactly the same but..."

Margo's eyes welded with tears. The nuns had stripped her of all her jewelry when she came to St. Joseph's, it was forbidden to wear such gaudy things in the church and served as a distraction. That first night, Paige had found Margo on her bunk alone sobbing. Paige immediately gathered the girls together to console Margo. She had explained to them that it was the last birthday present that she received when things in her life were normal, the one happy memory she had of her childhood; before her father left and before her mother turned into an addict.

"Thank you," Margo replied in a low trembling voice, "I really appreciate this," she continued holding the charm close to her heart.

"Well put it away quickly," Marla chuckled, "We can't afford another one if the sisters take that away."

"Yea, especially sister Francis. She has it out for you or something," Paige remarked.

"I will," Margo said wiping the tears away that were streaming down her face, "I didn't even know any of you were awake."

"Oh please," Marla laughed, "You're not exactly quiet when you get up in the morning."

"Sorry, I try to be," she said sniffling trying to force a smile.

"Well, we just wanted to give you this before your day started... before Father Maurice takes you for your confirmation ceremony."

"What?" Margo said staring blankly at them.

"Shh Simone," Paige said nudging her.

"Ouch what?" Simone said rubbing her side, "I thought she knew."

"Confirmation? Today?"

"Yes," Marla exclaimed, "Normally your confirmed at fourteen but you didn't grow up catholic. That's why they put you in this two-year program to get you confirmed as soon as possible."

"She's still too old," Simone mumbled.

Marla glared at Simone. Her cold stare was enough to settle Simone's blunt attitude towards Margo's belated ceremony. All the young girls that attended St. Joseph's were confirmed together and had grown up in the same boarding schools. It was unusual for a girl to be accepted into such a restricted school after a certain age, but given the circumstances, Margo was an exception. They all understood but sometimes Simone's personal feelings would get in the way; she was a little jealous of the attention that Margo received even if it was negative attention.

"So... how do these things usually go?" Margo asked nervously.

"Well," Paige cleared her throat, "You'll kneel before the bishop while he anoints you and then he'll state your name and seal it with a prayer."

"That's it?"

"Well the gist of it," Paige said, "that reminds me, are you keeping your name?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well you either get to keep your birth name or choose a saints name to go by."

"Oh," she said with a puzzled look, "I think I'll keep my name. I'm named after my grandmother...my father's mother."

"Speaking of your father," Simone interrupted, "I think it's best that you know, that he'll be there."

"What? Why?"

"He's your sponsor. Usually it's like your godparent or something but he's your only living family member."

"Oh," Margo replied softly.

"What's wrong?" Marla asked in a concerned tone.

"Nothing," Margo replied, "I just wasn't expecting to see him."

"Well you'll only have to see him for the ceremony and that's it," Marla said draping her arm around her, "It will be over before you know it."

DONG! DONG!

"I guess that's our cue," Marla said hearing the church bells, "we better get dressed."

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RESURRECTION- "Romans 6:4"

Bishop Serrano walked down the aisle looking over each candidate to be presented for confirmation; Margo stood out like a sore thumb. She wasn't much older than the other candidates but these past two years she had really blossomed physically and so she appeared much older. Her father stood behind her with his hand firmly gripped on her shoulder. She could hear him chanting a prayer softly behind her Gloria al Padre, al Hijo y al Espíritu Santo.

"Saint Peter," the Bishop announced as he anointed a narrow-face boy first in line, "Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen," the boy responded.

"Peace be with you."

"And with your spirit."

The Bishop moved swiftly down the line until finally reaching Margo. Margo inhaled deeply and leaned in to receive the Chism Oil on her forehead.

"Saint Margaret," the Bishop announced, "Be sealed with the gif- "

"I'm sorry," Margo interrupted with a whisper, "You said Margaret and my name is Margo."

Bishop Serrano stared blankly at Margo before giving a sharp look to her father. Cristóbal squeezed Margo's shoulder Dios esta mirando. Margo rolled her eyes at the sound of her father's warning but knew it was better to be obedient in this moment than to cause a scene. She sighed and nodded allowing the Bishop to continue the confirmation ceremony.

"Be sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen."

"Peace be with you."

"And also, with you," Margo replied with a forced smile.

As the ceremony concluded, all the candidates that had received their rite of passage into the faith rejoiced; all except Margo. They embraced their loved ones as Margo stood awkwardly next to her father. In the two years since she had been at St. Joseph's she could count on one hand how many times she had actually seen him; he was consumed by the church and his personal journey to power among the religious authorities.

"Estas lista para el siguiente paso?" Margo's father said smiling at her.

"Huh?"

"Perdoname," he said shaking his head, "me English is bad. We go eh with Father Maurice now," he said motioning to a small door behind the alter.

"Okay," Margo said hesitantly, "What for?"

"Bautismo," he replied firmly.

"But I've already been baptized."

"Esto es especial."

Margo followed her father down the aisle behind the alter through a small red door. Father Maurice was standing in front of a metallic wash bin full of water. Margo scanned the room; it was a very odd scene.

"Saint Margaret, welcome," he said opening his arms.

"Hello Father Maurice. Nice to see you, but if it's all the same to you I'd like to still go by Margo," she said tucking her hair behind her ear.

Father Maurice and her father stared at each other for a moment before mumbling amongst themselves. Margo didn't understand why they kept trying to force this new name upon her, she thought she had a choice.

"Yes of course," Father Maurice smiled, "Margo. Do you mind changing into this?" he continued handing her a white robe.

Margo reluctantly took the robe and went behind a thick red velvet curtain that hung in generous folds from the ceiling on the other side of the room. She didn't remember her first baptism, she had only seen pictures and in those pictures, she also wore a white robe; guess it was tradition. The marble tile felt cool beneath her feet as she made her way back to the wash bin. Immediately, Father Maurice began the renewal of Margo's baptismal promises.

"Do you reject Satan?" Father Maurice said firmly placing his palm on Margo's forehead.

"Yes."

"And all his empty promises?"

"I do."

"Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth?"

"Yes."

"Will you remain faithful to God?"

"Yes."

"And remain faithful to the will of the church?"

"Yes."

"Amen."

"Amen," Margo said closing her eyes to prepare herself to be submerged into the wash bin.

Margo's head bobbed beneath the water for a few seconds as she waited for Father Maurice to pull her back up, but he didn't. Instead he held her there until her body began to scream for oxygen; he was drowning her. Darkness enveloped her. She couldn't help but wonder if her father knew that this was the church's intensions or if he even knew it was happening. Drowning wasn't the loud splashy scenarios you often see in movies; it is a quiet form of death and could happen right in front of you without you even knowing.

Father Maurice pulled Margo's semi lifeless body from the water. Margo's father handed him a relic from his pocket, it was the talisman he had given to Margo. The talisman the church had taken from her two years ago. He handed it Father Maurice who uttered a sacred prayer as he burned the symbol onto Margo's wrist. The pain jolted Margo from her lifeless state and she began gulping at the stale air.

"It is done brother Cristóbal, she is part of the order."

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GUARDIANS OF THE REALM- "Ephesians 6:12"

Margo lay still in her bunk for a second before wiping the sleep from her eyes. She sat up slowly. Her head was throbbing, a side effect from the lack of oxygen. She was alone which was unusual considering she spent every waking moment with Marla, Simone, and Paige. It was silent and although it was something that she would usually crave, the silence put her on edge. She could feel it gnawing at her insides; it was like a void needing to be filled. She glanced around the dark dormitory. It wasn't the darkness of night but a hopeful darkness that happens just before the sunrise. As Margo's vision adjusted, she could see a distorted figure sitting in the corner.

"Hello?" Margo said faintly.

"Good morning my child," the voice said firmly.

"Who...who are you? Where am I?"

"You're at St. Joseph's."

"What happened?" Margo said rubbing her head.

"What do you remember?"

"I remember my father taking me to a small room behind the alter to be baptized I think and," Margo paused. She could feel a bandage wrapped around her wrist, "I remember being burned."

"You had an anxiety attack and passed out during your confirmation," the distorted figure rose from the chair and with assistance from a cane, walked toward Margo's bed, "on your way to the ground you knocked over incense. It burned you."

"The order," Margo whispered.

"What?" the voice said firmly, "speak up."

"I heard Father Maurice say that I am apart of the order," she said pulling of her bandage revealing her raw skin, "What have you people done to me!" she yelled.

"Silence," the voice demanded, "you will not raise your voice to me child," the voice scoffed.

"I—"

The figure took the cane and struck the edge of the bed. Margo's eyes widened. Her heart began to race. She felt like she was still sleeping because this couldn't be reality. As beams from the egg yoke sun poured through the crack of the blinds, the voice Margo was speaking with began to take shape in the form of a woman.

"Father Maurice was right. You have a rebellious nature," the voice ridiculed, "I am mother superior."

"Is this a joke," Margo asked rubbing her burn.

"No," she said swatting Margo's hand.

"Ouch," Margo said rolling her eyes, "well what can I do for you mother," Margo continued sarcastically.

"I'm sure you've heard about a secret sect of the church called the order of the cruciform sword or the OCS. Perhaps around one of your mouthy classmates."

"There have been whispers," Margo said quickly, "but what has that got to do with me. Aren't you all nuns?"

"For the most part," she said firmly.

"Well, I'm not a nun," she smirked.

"No. You aren't and that is not why I am here," she said as she paced back and forth, "I am here because the OCS is at war with the spiritual realm and because of this war we have desperately activated a classified sect of the OCS called the guardians of the realm."

"Guardians of the realm," Margo chuckled slightly, "what does that even mean."

"It means exactly how it sounds. For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places," she quoted.

"So...what does this have to do with me?"

"You remind me so much of her," she said staring at Margo.

"Of whom?"

"Ava," she said with a faint voice, "she was reluctant to be recruited as well, but the halo chose her."

"Halo?"

"Yes," she said snapping back to reality, "I have no time to explain everything to you here. You must come with me immediately. You now bare the sacred mark of the archangel. You are a guardian of the realm."

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CHOSEN FOR THE CHOSEN-"Matthew 22:14"

Margo sat in the back of the oversized van tracing over her burn with her fingertips as they travelled down the bumpy motorway. The road lay before them like an endless tarmac river leading nowhere; there were no signs and no way of knowing where the van was headed. Mother superior sat sternly across from Margo staring at her as her body swayed with the movement of the van; it made her uncomfortable but not as uncomfortable as the black nailed woman-beast sitting next to her that she would catch glimpses of through her peripheral vision.

"So, any chance you'll tell me where we are going," Margo said hesitantly breaking the silence, "I mean you didn't even let me grab any of my stuff."

"You won't need anything," Mother superior snapped.

"Okay...well did anyone tell my father," she snapped back.

"You mean the father you don't have a relationship with," mother superior sneered.

"You don't know my- "

"He's the one that gave you to us," mother superior interrupted, "he believes it will give him a clean slate with the church by this offering."

Margo sat in shock. She knew that she didn't have a relationship with her father, but she never imagined that he would willingly give her up. Her eyes welded with tears as she starred at the triumphant arrogant smirk plastered on mother superior's face. She knew her father had a desire to become an intricate part of the order but didn't know that meant her life was the payment.

"Oh mother, maybe you shouldn't have said anything. We don't have time for an emotional breakdown while the new girl explores her daddy issues," the woman-beast interjected.

"No one is having an emotional breakdown," Margo said turning, "so stay out of it you...whatever you are!"

"I'm not a what," the woman-beast hissed, "My name is Lilith, and this is the result of the last chosen one not dealing with their trauma before they were recruited!"

"I didn't ask to be here, and I don't have trauma!"

"Clearly you do, or words wouldn't get under your skin. You need to get that in check quickly. There's no time for it," she said raising her voice.

"That's enough," mother superior said pounding her cane against the floor of the van, "I was not trying to antagonize you child. The details of how you were given to us do not matter now. We must stay focused on the mission," she continued.

"Mother—"

"Lilith! ENOUGH," She shouted, "We've learned our lesson before with Ava. Did making her acknowledge her trauma prove anything or change any of the girls' fate?"

"But—"

"We must stay focused on the mission to save the girls," she said with a longing gaze at Lilith.

"Okay...so clearly I'm lost," Margo said interrupting the intense stare, "what are we rescuing Ava from?"

"It's not just Ava," Lilith said in a low tone, "It's all of them."

"Well what are we rescuing all of them from?"

"Demon-possession," Lilith said firmly, "We thought we were saving the world. We thought that by destroying Adriel's bones it would close the portal that allows demons to come in our realm."

"What?" Margo said raising her brow, "demons? Who is Adriel?"

"We thought he was an angel," Lilith's voice trailed, "but he's no angel."

"Okay...so you're telling me I've been chosen to slay demons," she chuckled nervously.

"This is not a joke," Lilith snapped, "everything that you've ever told yourself that wasn't real is real and the scary thing is that they're after you."

"Wait, if you were there then why aren't you possessed by a demon too," Margo questioned.

"Lilith was saved," mother superior said, "and that's all you need to know about it for now."

"Well if you're going to leave parts of the story out, it's going to be hard for me to successfully complete the mission," Margo said sarcastically.

"You'll learn what you need to know," mother superior stated.

The remaining of the ride was quiet. The van finally reached a narrow road that led to an enormous ecclesiastical-stone church. Gnarled trees hung low in front of the aged building; it clearly had been vacant for ages.

"Oh, great another church," Margo sighed.

"This is the original headquarters of the OCS, "mother superior stated as the van came to a screeching halt, "it will now serve it's purpose as a training facility for the guardians of the realm," she continued gazing at the church.

"Training...I can't fight demons," Margo exclaimed.

"Lilith will train you well," mother superior paused, "you have been chosen for this."

Margo looked over at Lilith who had a sly smirk resting on her lips. She still had the face of a woman but the rest of her was nothing of a human.

"Shall we begin?"