"Joan…for as long as we exist, you must wage war against the false gods. That's why mother brought you into this world. One day, you will lead soldiers in the fight to save humanity. Do you understand, Joan?”
A six-year-old girl with blonde hair and blue eyes innocently looked up at her mother with a confused expression. She was taught to never harm another person, so why were these "false gods" different? "Why must we hurt them, mother? Are they evil? Are they scary?"
The woman looked disappointed at that innocent question. It seemed her daughter had yet to fully comprehend the values of The Iron Fist; good soldiers follow orders without question, anything less and they are defectors. "They are evil monsters who want to control us. Don't ever ask me why again…" She sternly replied.
The child feared consequences for expressing curiosity. She sadly lowered her gaze like a lamb would in the presence of a wolf. "I understand, mother…"
The woman held her child's shoulders, her darker blue eyes coldly and firmly staring into those of her child. "You will learn how to be a good soldier, Joan. As my firstborn, it is your birthright. You will learn…"
A good soldier never cries. A good soldier never disobeys. A good soldier never hesitates. They kill the moment they see the enemy, the moment their back is turned, when they are most vulnerable. This would be the first lesson that Joan painfully learned in her training, not even knowing it was training at the time.
The mother sighed as she approached the table, taking a small creature from its cage. It looked tiny, weak, and fearful. She presented it in front of Joan, alongside a sharp knife. Up until then, Joan had only seen it as a mere kitchen utensil. "Kill it, Joan." The woman commanded without hesitation, standing behind the child with her arms behind her back.
Joan faltered, backing away. "It's…it's just a baby! I can't, mother! It's not a bad creature! It's scared!"
Joan was suddenly and roughly grabbed by her arm, which was twisted painfully. Her mother looked directly into her eyes, even as she dug her fingernails into her. "I gave you an order."
Joan cried out in pain, so unbearable she could barely breathe. She weakly attempted to free herself, but the more she pleaded, the more the pressure increased.
Amidst the struggle, the creature got away, upon which Joan was dropped to the floor. "You let it escape, because you hesitated. Stupid child…" The woman kicked Joan in the stomach, before lifting her up by her hair like a ragdoll. "Will you let prey escape again, Joan?"
The child struggled to see through the tears dripping from her eyes, and breathe through the blood dripping from her mouth. "P-Please mother… I won't do it again… I won't do it again… please don't hurt me again…"
The woman was disgusted by the pitiful display. "Soldiers don't cry, Joan, nor do they plead. You won't eat anything until you make up your mind and decide to be good."
Begging did nothing. The hunger was terrifying, twisting her stomach in desperation. For three whole days, Joan scratched at the door, begging for freedom and food, apologizing over and over to the point of exhaustion. On the fourth day, Joan's pleas ceased, and she was freed.
The same creature was placed in front of her again. She was hungry, she wanted food, she didn't want to be starving anymore.
"Joan, you know what to do."
She walked forward, almost involuntarily, now driven only by primal survival instincts. At that point, everything went black, and she could not remember how many times she pierced the creature. The next thing she knew, her hands were stained with blood, and all that remained of the creature was its bones — the rest was now in her stomach.
The woman looked upon Joan with approval, but not with a smile. "This is how you should kill your enemies, Joan. You did good, you have been forgiven. You are becoming a great woman."
Joan did not sleep that night. Even after cleaning the blood off her, she still felt stained, and would forevermore.
Every day, Joan witnessed the cruel reality of the Mercury Finger, the assassins, the exterminators of false gods. Where children are trained to kill, where no mercy is given. On occasion, she was tormented beyond her limits, numbed under agonizing pain. She came to kill animals without regret, without comfort. Joan endured, for the sake of her siblings, for the sake of appeasing her parents…She merely wanted love, any kind of praise for enduring all this torment so greatly. She never received such grace.
Joan's heart hardened as time went by, the small creatures she was made to eliminate did not spark anything else into her, because crying would only cause punishments to happen. She had no tears to shed…The blood smelled like nothing, and she felt no weight in her flesh any longer. It was numbness, emptiness in her gaze.
Before she knew it, it was finally time for Joan's first real mission. This was to be her initiation, her rite of passage into the Iron Fist as an official member. Her mother, of course, made sure to impress the importance of this upon her.
"You are finally ready to undergo your final test, Joan. Do not disappoint, humanity is counting on you. Your ancestors will be watching."
The mission was simple: bring the head of a godlike being's champion.
Joan was sent far away, on a long and arduous journey. She grew cold and hungry, barefoot in the snow, with torn clothes and bruises. But a voice in her head compelled her onward.
Proceed.
Joan's internal monologue no longer sounded like her own voice. By now, it instead sounded like her mother's.
Eventually, she stumbled and fell to her knees before the entrance of a cabin. The door opened, and in front of her stood a bearded man, with kind eyes and big hands. The man seemed to be concerned for her. "Are you lost, young one? You poor thing… you look so cold…"
Joan was…puzzled, about the way the kind man spoke to her. The only thing she knew about him was that he was the target she had been sent to eliminate.
The stranger gently held her smaller hands, warming them up, before wrapping a comfortable coat around her. What is all of this? Why is he doing this? Could it be… kindness? "Come, I'm going to make you some warm food, then I'll give you some new clothes." Her hand was being held so carefully, he wasn't squeezing nor pulling, but merely guiding her. Compared to him, she was barely taller than a chair. The inside of the house was warm and comfortable, the man gave her new shoes alongside a warm bowl of vegetable soup. The house emitted a pleasant tepor from the chimney on the roof. The food smelled so great… and the big shoes she was given were very warm. She was used to wear the old shoes of her mother, this was new.
Joan did not know how to act, but she was extremely hungry, so she drank down the soup quickly. Her stomach felt warm and full, she hadn't eaten anything good in so long.
The man smiled at her, revealing a set of white teeth. His face had hints of redness from the cold. He looked comforting… and strange. She compared him to a large bear. He slowly reached out his hand, and as Joan expected a painful punch or a slap, perhaps for something wrong she must have done. She instead opened her eyes to a soft pat on the head, he was ruffling her hair. "You were starving, weren't you…? You poor kid… you can have more if you want."
Joan merely shook her head, somehow feeling her limbs become less rigid. This feels… good, the couch she's sitting on is soft, it smells like the man. Like leaves and dirt. And the coat is made of soft materials, like the fur of a sheep. This whole place felt surreal.
"Would you like to tell me what happened to you? Why were you all alone out in the snow? Where are your parents?"
"… I can't tell you." She said, in a feeble voice, why can't she bring herself to kill him? He's right there… She's being such a bad kid… and yet…But she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to kill anyone.
The man sat by her side, he did not sound angry from her lack of a proper response. "Why is that?"
"Because I need to complete my mission, I need… I need to kill you, my mother and everyone counts on me. If I don't… I won't have anywhere to go… they will leave me to die, and I'll be a bad kid. I cant be a bad kid, i just have that… I don't want to be hurt again, please." Joan expected shouting and fear. She expected a fight, so that he could protect himself from her…
But… the man didn't look afraid or hateful, he wasn't angry. He didn't despise her. He opened his arms and held her close in a warm hug. He did not hurt her. Joan felt something after such a long time of being numb, a soft warmth in her heart, and tears came flowing out of her eyes like a river. He did not punish her. "You can stay with me, you don't need to go back… you don't need to kill anyone. I will protect you, and I will make sure you're never hurt again. Whatever they've done to you, it isn't right, and you have a chance to live a happier life… I promise. I will take care of you, and we can live together without any worry."
A happier life? Can she really abandon everything and live here? With the tall man with the big hands… that gives her warm soup everyday and warm clothes. "Really…? You won't… hurt me?"
"Never, you're just a small child, you deserve to live a happy life, who could hurt you in such a way?…" The man caresses her hair, while humming a soft melody. Joan's breathing slowed, as she finally felt at peace for the first time in her life. She felt like an infant once more.
She let all of her tears out. Then she rested against the man, starting to doze off in the embrace. For the first time, she truly believes in defying everything she has been taught for freedom, she trusted the man and reached out for this bright hope. She could run away and reach stability.
It was so close, she was so close. But it was never her choice.
Her head was hurting.
Massacre.
A command imprinted in her mind, like one would teach a dog how to sit for a treat. Her vision grows blurry, everything hurts, who is this voice? It's ringing in her head, it was her mother's…
MASSACRE.
She can't see anything. She doesn't know what's happening, it's all red now, red like crimson blood, it smells like blood too.. She felt like she's been unconscious for a long time, before she's able to see again. And when she does see what is in front of her… her mind breaks in pieces.
The body of the kind bearded man lay in a puddle of blood, his severed head just a few meters away. Her hands and clothes were covered in his blood, holding the iron dagger that murdered him. She killed him, how did she kill him?! Why did she kill him?! She didn't want to! Neither her body nor her mind were her own any longer, for she had become a soldier. Joan screamed until her throat became dry, unable to let out further noise. It was horrifying.
And then… everything afterwards was a blur. Joan barely remembered returning back to Base Mercury, nor the other members cheering and congratulating her, nor her mother's rare words of approval. Neither did she remember soon being declared the new Premier.
"You make us so proud, Joan, my sweet Joan. You're a perfect soldier, you're so obedient…" Her mother said in a falsely sweet tone.
Joan did not hear. All she saw was that leaking red liquid dripping, staining everything… Her soul now tainted by a crimson red that shall never fade.
Joan Arteaga became a husk of a human being that day, losing any grip of reality and descending into suffering. She did not remember the proceeding five months. All she saw in her sleep were figures and voices. She could hardly distinguish what was real and what wasn't…it was all a punishment, she thought, for being what she was. She stopped caring about running away, embracing her fate and this gruesome mission. It was this very same curse that sent her ancestors insane, in a weak effort to destroy the traitor who ruined the Great Zephyr. Joan was sure that she saw her in her mirror, more than once, watching, talking. She screams revenge, and so do the others. For as long as Joan will be alive, she will fight.
She has taken many lives — mortal and divine alike — like an untamed beast.
All she saw was blood and red, as the woman commanded "Kill, Joan" while holding her shoulders. She was older, full of wrinkles, but still in control.
Joan killed, Joan won, Joan did everything right. Everything to survive. The insignia painfully carved on her back, the scars she inflicted upon herself as a symbol of victory… She gave everything she had left for this prison of hers. But it won't ever be enough.
When will it end?
When will I finally rest?
Please save me…
I don't want to live like this.
MAKE IT STOP!
…
Joan?
Joan??
JOAN!
The woman snapped out from her thoughts, seeing her sister Marianne staring at her with a serious gaze. Those blue eyes of hers were far more piercing than anything she has ever seen. She must have fallen asleep, she's used to these kind of nightmares. Nightmares that make her remember things she'd rather forget.
"Stop spacing out. Are you ready to go out and fight? Our targets are starting to move."
The woman stared down at her hands, her face permanently forced in a pained smile. She was trembling subtly. No. "Yes, of course, I'll send the assassination group ahead… Go without me for now." The woman was left alone in a matter of a few seconds, as she stared at herself in the mirror of the room. She does not recognize herself anymore, that woman in the reflection is too much like her mother. Two raindrops of the same cloud… With an hint of hesitation, she looked back. But the command in her mind made her walk away, leaving behind even that one last bit of humanity that she felt in that moment…The memories are hidden back into her heart, bottled and locked away to be numb.
Joan will be a good soldier again. Because puppets do not disobey.