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Putting on the black habit of a Sister Warrior felt like a right of passage, like Yasmine was finally truly making her dreams come true. After everything that happened, formally being a Sister Warrior felt at once monumental and suddenly overwhelming. It made Yasmine think about all the things she had done to get here to this place. Things she would never have thought she could do. Fighting with a knife. Actually killing someone. Watching the life go out of their eyes.
It was still difficult for Yasmine to process that she had been the one to end someone's life. Yes, it had been in self defence, and yes, she knew well that Cardinal Foster would have killed her, right then and there. He would have already killed her at the conclave if she hadn't fought him off then. But still, knowing that because of her, a life had been extinguished was not easy. She had dreamed about it, nightmares in which he had come at her with a knife he hadn't actually had in reality. A huge knife that somehow ended up in her hand and she sliced him apart, the blood everywhere.
The first time Yasmine had had that nightmare, she had woken up screaming. It had taken her a moment to understand where she was. Camila had been there for Yasmine, talking about how brave she had been, how much she had proven that she indeed could be a Sister Warrior. Part of Yasmine wanted to curl up and cry, to say that it had been a mistake. That she was not cut out to be a Sister Warrior after all. But she remembered, back in the cathedral, how she had been sitting there, bleeding, trying to not look at the cardinal's dead body. How Camila had found her and helped her.
There was no way Yasmine could now disappoint Camila and the others, despite knowing that Camila would never pressure her to do anything she was uncomfortable with, now that the immediate danger was over. But Yasmine realized once she truly looked inside herself and examined her feelings, that despite how hard it still was to cope with what happened, she did not want to go back to her life before. To simply read books and stay on the side-lines. To being a part of something only in theory, but never truly being a part of it.
No, Yasmine wanted to be a Sister Warrior. With everything that entailed. She was glad that Mother Superion agreed and had held a ceremony to officially welcome Yasmine into the OCS. And now, here she was, having been sent into a small room to change into her brand new habit. Or rather, into a habit she was sure had been worn by many Sister Warriors before her but was now hers.
Holding it up reverently, Yasmine swallowed, emotions welling up in her. So much was still uncertain, with Ava gone and Beatrice having talked about leaving as well. Yasmine had not told anyone about the kiss between Ava and Beatrice she had witnessed. But she had tried to be there for Beatrice as much as she could. Having seen the kiss and the agony in Beatrice's face when Ava disappeared, Yasmine understood how devastated she was. Even so, Yasmine also knew she would miss Beatrice if and when she left.
In a way, Camila, Beatrice, Ava and Mary were the first real friends Yasmine had made in her life. Before, she had been too concentrated on finding the Crown of Thorns, on academic success and on fulfilling her oath to think about friendships. But as much as they had been suspicious about Yasmine at first, she now felt truly at home here in the OCS and losing even one of her new friends hurt. Especially after already losing Ava.
But Yasmine knew this was not her decision. And she understood if and when it was too painful for Beatrice to stay here without Ava. That Beatrice possibly felt like she failed, even when everyone was assuring her that she hadn't. That it had been Ava's choice to sacrifice herself.
Sighing, Yasmine took off the skirt and blouse she usually wore, as well as the head covering. Putting on the habit was easy enough, she had done it many times, but it still felt peculiar. It was simply a black habit, looking exactly like any other Yasmine had worn ever since she had taken her vows. But still, putting on this specific one felt different. Monumental, even. Like she was entering a new phase in her life. Reverently putting on each piece of clothing, Yasmine last fastened the head covering and put the cross around her neck, then turned around to look at herself in the mirror.
For a second, she barely recognized herself. Yes, she had worn a habit like this before, but not for some time. And never with this specific cross around her neck. The one that had saved her life. Feeling how her thoughts were about to spiral back to how it had felt to take a life, Yasmine instead touched the cross reverently and thought about how Mother Superion had given it to her. How scared she had been to go into that dark museum. But she had done it and she had helped the others to get the Crown of Thorns.
Taking a deep breath, Yasmine let go of the cross. She gave herself a small smile and straightened up. She could do this. She was a Sister Warrior already. She had already proven herself in battle. Nearly chuckling at how that made it sound like she was a contemporary of Areala's and Cora's, riding into battle during the crusades, Yasmine inhaled sharply once again and turned around. It was time to go and embrace her new sisters. Or old sisters. Whichever.
Outside of the room, Mother Superion, Mary, Beatrice and Camila were waiting for Yasmine. For a moment, Yasmine felt overwhelmed by so many eyes on her, but they were all smiling at her. Camila stepped forward, pulling Yasmine into a tight hug. Hugging back gratefully, Yasmine took a deep breath. The emotions she was feeling were overwhelming, bringing tears into her eyes. Beatrice hugged her as well, while Mary clapped her on the shoulder, a little too hard maybe but Yasmine wouldn't complain.
Mother Superion nodded at Yasmine with a smile, her eyes shimmering with something curiously like tears.
"Welcome to the OCS, Yasmine," Mother Superion said, gravely, repeating what she had said before, in the ceremony. "I know you will make us proud."
Yasmine swallowed thickly, the praise meaning everything to her. She nodded at Mother Superion, trying her hardest to push down the tears that now wanted to well up in her eyes in earnest. It was even harder when Mother Superion stepped towards her, putting her hand on her shoulder. They both stayed like that for a long moment, Yasmine still trying to keep her emotions at bay. Then Mother Superion nodded at Yasmine again, before saying there were other matters she needed to attend to. The way Mother Superion briskly turned around and left, leaning heavily on the cane Yasmine knew she didn't need anymore, made Yasmine think she was more so trying to not show her emotions than actually needing to tend to urgent duties.
It made Yasmine smile softly, thinking about how far they had come since they had met in that flower shop in Madrid. Since Yasmine's life had gotten turned upside down in a way she had always dreamt about. Somehow, she still had never imagined for it to be quite like this.
Camila smiled up at Yasmine, raising her eyebrows questioningly.
"So, how does it feel to officially be a Sister Warrior?" Camila asked, a little cheekily but mostly with affection. Yasmine laughed, thankful for Camila lightening the atmosphere.
"It feels great." Yasmine looked down at herself and smiled, inhaling deeply. Looking back into Camila's, Mary's and Beatrice's faces, their expressions open and affectionate, Yasmine didn't want to withhold anything from them, chuckling a little nervously. "Though still a little strange to be honest."
Laughing lightly, Camila put a hand on Yasmine's arm.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it quickly, I'm sure." Camila smirked mischievously at Mary, making Yasmine wonder what she was going to say. "Wearing this habit will become a habit in no time."
"Seriously?" Mary asked, groaning exaggeratedly. "And here I thought I escaped the puns."
Mary was dragging her words out, making them over the top dramatic, though the way her eyes shone in amusement betrayed her complaint. Camila and Yasmine both laughed, but then Camila's face fell and both her and Mary turned to Beatrice, whose face looked pained. Yasmine realized with a start that reminding Beatrice of Ava when she was gone was probably not a very nice thing to do. Mary and Camila clearly thought that as well, their faces falling. Camila stepped towards Beatrice with an apologetic look in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Bea, I didn't mean-"
"No, it's alright," Beatrice interrupted Camila, smiling a little, though it looked strained, her eyes still sad. "Ava would have appreciated the pun."
Beatrice's voice hitched a little saying Ava's name. Mary and Camila both gave her a side hug.
"Yeah, she would have," Mary said, quietly, squeezing Beatrice's arm, who gave her a grateful look. Not really knowing what to do, Yasmine simply stood there, glad when Camila turned back to her and held out her hand with a smile.
"Let's go find something to eat, okay, Sister Warrior Yasmine?" Camila asked, putting on a pompous air, obviously trying to dispel the heavy cloud of emotions that seemed to have settled around them. It worked, as Beatrice now chuckled, while Mary shook her head amusedly. Yasmine took Camila's hand and squeezed it, smiling at her gratefully.
"I would like that, yes," Yasmine said, following Camila towards the mess hall, Mary and Beatrice coming with them as well.
It still felt weird to Yasmine to walk through the hallways, meeting Sister Warriors who nodded at them and greeted them. The realization that Yasmine was one of them now still hadn't fully sunk in. She smiled again when she thought about what Camila had said, that it would become a habit. While the pun did make her miss Ava more, Yasmine also agreed with it. Or rather, she hoped it would be true.
That one day, putting on the habit of a Sister Warrior, being a member of the OCS, would just be routine, like putting on any other habit had been her entire life. Though a part of her also wanted it to stay special. After all, truly being a part of the OCS was everything she had ever wanted her entire life.
And now it had become reality.