Snippet #2722968

Without so much as a glance, a pressure on her shoulder exploded onto her face, coating her left side. "Silly angel." her father moved her to the ground, not bothering to clean the red on her face and shoulder. "What were you trying to do?" she turned her head, seeing him stalk over to the weakened angel. When he placed his foot on the angel's stomach, and he let out a pained cry, she saw red. Without much thought, she found herself taller, not by much but taller, and holding a blade too big for her hands. Her hands were no longer chubby, and she found it easier to focus on where she was looking. Her mind became slightly clearer, also.

She took a few huge leaping steps, before swinging the blade. It took all the energy out of the one swing, and it fell from her hands before she got the chance to rear back for a second. Her hands burned from holding onto it, and she clutched them to her chest with a whine. The man, no longer being recognised as her father, had jumped to the side. His eyes widened and the both of them fell into an awkward silence, before-

"Yeah! Miniel!" she turned her head, seeing her youngest brother, Samiel, chuck a familiar weapon to her. It slid into her palm easily, fitting her body shape. Her old sword, the one she used to train with when she- when she was little? That made no sense, she was little now. She shook her head clear of the thought and took another leap toward the man. Unprepared for any skill from a now-10-year-old girl, he prepared to disarm her. It didn't work as well as he wanted, as she was prepared.

"Like you said," she grunted, slightly surprised by the high pitch of her voice. Her throat hurt as if she never spoke before. "I'm a natural fighter." she skidded on her feet two seconds before he could grab her, and she spun on her left heel, coming up to an opening in his ribs. Without hesitation, she swung and scored a clean cut. He jumped away once again, growling and healing instantly.

"Or was it that I'm not designed for Heaven, huh bastard?" She heard Sam's cheer behind her, and she retightened her grip on her sword. Her arms were getting tired, even if it had only been a swing of two.