Her looks were a picture of perfection, further beautified by its humbleness without any exaggeration in her appearance despite descending of noble blood and status. But perfection is a virtue no human possessed and so, that perfect picture of her was being isolated and wracked in ice and sharpness day after day in the minds of commoners and nobles alike.
She recognized this but she still did not try to change it, for changing human nature was a feat deemed vain and wasteful. No one changes, people hold to their innate desires and inbred qualities and show them either brazenly in a fair courageous display, even if these desires and qualities were distasteful, or hide them behind a mask more fragile than glass collapsing at the moments of truth and logical confrontations. To her preference, the brave display of one flaws or greed was more admired regardless of its pitiless nature, and in front of her emerald eyes, the masks were a see – through veil that did not deceive them once.
She had so much from the past to hold on to, her memories about her father's just yet merciful conduct of his duties and so after his death, as his only child who inherited a large part of his influence and power, she had so much more too look for in the future. But the future never came, its springing stagnant in the hateful persistent present she found herself, like her city, stuck in. No one wanted to change a thing, and the sole person who shared with her her dreams of change and a different future for the city turned out to be a hesitant unreliable ally, his dreams and visions no more than whimsical wishes, dying as soon as they were born.
Betrayal for her faith in that man was what she felt, and her heart learnt of no forgiveness to this crime and this crime alone.
She tried to open her doors to the poor and overlooked people to enter through them with the grace of their forgotten rights and unanswered prayers but none approached the opened doors, content in their static position and afraid of consequences so the doors were as mercilessly as her unforgivness, closed and locked.
She entertained the rightful demands of her father's old friends and of the counselors when she recognized benefit for the city in them but with the governor's negligence and inconsistent orders, she found herself willingly turning down many demands and beseeches, her moral compass opposing that of her cousin with its steadiness and tough perseverance.
Her popularity declined, even among the nobles, but she did not care for her status were a pillar of support, built by her father's and uncle's graceful feats and honorable deeds that nothing could defile and so, being an extension of that pillar, nothing could defile her. She was immune to shady rumors, to false stories, and to any kind of slights. However, this did not equal the love of the people which she was bent first on getting, but as the gap between the two grew larger and larger, she viewed herself righteously above the ignorant masses, gleeful in their daily struggles and meek in front of the laws posed on them without attempting to change anything unless they used their vicious tongues and malicious rumors and speculations. They did not even try to look for a truth and gripped tightly to whatever vulgar story circulated, declaring this path as their sole way of rebelling back or protesting. They engrossed their suffering in the entertainment brought by bloody games and ruthless duels casting their dreams onto them.
They fell from her favor and lost her respect while she continued to soar, convinced that whatever means she used would not vilify her, for her principles remained noble and just.
She may have portrayed her uncle's patience, but her dreams were burning as passionately as Germanous's whims, though their flames stayed stable while remaining fiery. She adopted her uncle's realistic views on things, filling her mind with the facts the reality of her city and province was flowing with, holding tightly to one fact in particular, the necessary yet unfeasible change of her fellow citizens or their governor's attitudes and debaucheries. The justice that Germanous did not pass down, she passed on her own way, after taking the boy she named Ombra under her wing and who remained in the shadows like her "honorable" punishments she exacted where her cousin hesitated or did not approve of. Her methods were grim like her newly acquired prospective of the city and the citizens who inhabited it. These acts where her secret noble sacrifices. But could she call them as such, a sacrifice, when she felt nothing, nor pain neither regret when enacting them?
Then came that fateful day. The day that reignited her hopes in change and showed her the only path toward this city's redemption from corruption and injustice. A foreign slave had carried out his own justice and killed a greedy depraved old merchant whom people revered for his wealth despite actually hating and disdaining him and his lavish selfish lifestyle. Yet the man was condemned to a brutal death instead of being rewarded and taken as an example. But his story did not end there. He wrote for himself a new beginning that enlightened her path once again, winning the trial and gaining forgiveness with the same brutality he was condemned to die with. Only then did she realize change was possible, but only drastically. Upon such a city full of pervert nobles and money and power hungry men and women, only a drastic solution could save that sought chance and birth her dreams to life.
She did not believe in the power of destiny, yet the mystic guidance of the chain of circumstances led her to that man's younger friend and disciple. She did not hesitate to buy him and get him out of his misery, not for his sake but for the sake of her dream. The lad told her of the dual wielder, of how many times he had altered his fate; joining the Fianna and becoming their number one knight, their banner of nobility and honor, only to elope with his king's fiancée in the name of love but with the indignity of betrayal, yet not once did he stop persisting. He fought his way across friends and enemies, keeping the furious reputation of his blades. He survived, he reached a haven in the boy's village and kept on living. Though begrudged by his king, when duty called to defend his land against the invading Roman troops he briefly reconciled with the man for a greater cause and re – established the nobility bound to his name, as fighting for the sake of his people outweighed the mar of love and betrayal, though the former was in itself a fracture of the knight's personality and charm, sometimes sung in love ballads, at other times shunned as a great disgrace conquering the latter when he left his hiding place, declared his name and joined the battle needing no one's approval, acting on his own accord by the name of another type of love, the love for his land and people.
He always took matters to their extreme, and Sabina realized that a true change like the ones made by the lancer to his own life story was only happening if she used the same drastic approach.
She tested him with few missions, yearning for her actions to take place in their rightful shade of light. Though carried secretly all the same with Ombre, those done by the lancer were carried out in that light.
The "Justice Pallbearers" appeared soon after, sharing her same drastic method of carrying fairness and equity but they were demolished by the same terms they used through her uncle and the lancer, she never attributed the win to Germanous or Caecilius.
The win led to another proof to her unshakable facts. Oscar, the boy she picked up from the gutters was longing to establish himself away from his master, and gain the same recognition. While she did not approve of the dream, knowing the lad's abilities, she admired the determination and waited for a surprise she was certain the days would not bring. She allowed him to train, to do whatever he wanted and he returned the favor with his sincere service to her household. That is until he decided it was time to show his talent to the world, though it was not ripe yet. When she attended his trial in the arena, she felt a craving to wear red for the first time despite her detest for flashy things. But it was a symbol, an admiration to the lad's dreams and attempts at realizing them despite the futility of the trial. Thus, she wore red to celebrate his dream that the dual wielder was destined and obliged somehow to end in a shower of blood. The perfect tribute for the dreamer who did not lose his enthusiasm the way she did once.
Ambra was a different case from Oscar. His act was not on behalf of his dreams but hers so she did not have an ounce of respect for his trials in pleasing her. To begin with, he did not even understand her true wish that extended beyond the presence or absence of one person as he had thought. Germanous meant nothing aside from providing an example to the corruption of the city. So she left him to face the consequences of his own misinterpretation of her wishes and he deserved nothing less of what he met.
Sabina was not a woman who sought affection, but the dual wielder gained a sort of affection from her. Not in the words of love but in the fondness for nobility and justice, and her fascination with how he would abandon the two latter to survive. To cleanse a city did not call for honor or nobility, it did not need chivalry or knighthood, it just needed the instinct of survival. And no man better than the dual wielder possessed these instincts and surrendered to them when the times called for that. Yet he remained stubborn, refusing to open his eyes to this truth and that this fact which he felt but refused to dignify with affirmation or discussion was what drew her to him, the perfect tool for an extreme change that would rupture the city then rebuild it from clean pure ashes and ruins the way his twin blades soared after every battle, dignified and untouched by the vulgarity of the crowds or the brutality of the games.
She had to open his eyes, make him admit this truth, but her nemesis was playing the same game. Touching the soft yearning side of an outcast knight, flowering his path with promises and visions that were beyond the dreamer himself.
Germanous offered him wishes, not promises. He gave him a vision not a method. He radiated with hope but was actually sinking in despair and weakness. Meanwhile, it was her who held the facts and truths and offered they key to true freedom, both of enslavement and of the mirage of deceitful dreams that stood in the way of the full potential of the lancer and prevented him from obeying her.
The same way Germanous never ran out of dreams, she did not run out of practical solutions and real keys to alter the situation and open the doors of freedom and change. Ruthless as it sounded, she had to tie these two together as long as the Celtic knight refused to open his eyes and see the governor's hopelessness and inability.
The lancer opened her eyes to the extremity needed for her dreams as he reawakened them and introduced them again to the light, and it was her turn to teach him how to distinguish between reality and dreams that remained mere shadows in an unwilling mind. She had to guide him to where he truly belongs.
By her side, fulfilling her dreams.