Sisters No More

“Alright, this is it!”

The proclamation from my friend and manager Paxar Vega, wearing an all black hooded cloak, brings a smile to her face as she stands in the middle of a clearing with nothing but trees in sight all around us.

“The final fight!,” She announces gleefully to myself, who happens to be standing next to her, and the rest of the participants in her venture. “The Paladin of Piety and Queen of Visionaria Reya Serra finds herself surrounded by her enemies…”

“Why in the world are we doing this?” I interrupt, raising an eyebrow at her as I draw attention to my attire, what appears to be an all-white medieval ensemble. “Why am I in this ridiculous costume?”

“Weapons training,” Paxar replies, pulling back the hood of her cloak to reveal her long brown hair. “As for the costume, that’s part of playing the character.

“I fail to see how this...what was it you called it?”

“LARPing, short for Live Action Role Playing,” she answers.

“I fail to see how this live action roleplaying that we have been doing will aid me in any manner for my upcoming match against The Duchess of Dishonor,” I tell her, shaking my head.

Paxar lets out a heavy sigh. “Reya, how many matches have you had where weapons were allowed to be involved?” she questions.

“Several.”

“And how many of them did you yourself actually USE a weapon?”

As I ponder that for a moment, she interrupts with an answer to her own question. “None, Reya. The answer is none. Not even in that match against Slater where you two were practically forced to use them and you both still fought without them. Yet here you are, in a weapons match. A weapons match that you asked for, b-t-dubs…”

Glaring at her seriously, I lift up the weapon in my hand slightly. “I had my reasons.”

“Well, you need to learn how to actually handle one,” Paxar declares bluntly. “Because rest assured, Rayne will beat you mercilessly with anything at her disposal. Maybe even a garbage disposal if she can get her hands on one. Is that what you want, Reya? Do you want to be left bruised, bloody, and broken in front of not only your fans but your boyfriend?”

The mere thought makes me shudder in horror. “Absolutely not.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Still, perhaps it would have been best if I had taken The Earl of Enterprise up on his offer,” I say to her, frowning slightly now at having previously declining his invitation to train with him in preparation for this match. “He is rather proficient in such...chaotic extremes, from what I understand.”

“It’s too late for second thoughts now,” Paxar tells me. “Sure, you could’ve trained with JMC for this weapons match. You probably would’ve been just as prepared, maybe more so. But what if you got injured? What if you hurt him? That wouldn’t have worked out well for either of you if something like that happened…”

“I suppose not,” I reply with a deep sigh.

“With my training regimen, you not only gain weapons proficiency that you need but it has the added bonus of being totally safe. After all, these weapons, including that replica warhammer in your hand, are all made out of foam.”

“Your method, while unorthodox, does have a safety advantage,” I respond with a nod.

“Now, can we continue?” Paxar inquires, glaring at me. “I’d like to finish this session before it gets dark and these kids have to get back home for dinner.”

Once more, I nod in response as Paxar puts the hood back over her head and the several teenagers around us that have been waiting patiently prepare themselves. “As I was saying before being interrupted, The Paladin of Piety and Queen of Visionaria Reya Serra finds herself surrounded by her enemies. Her fate and the fate of all of Visionaria hangs in the balance!”

The teens move closer as I move myself into a fighting stance, holding my weapon with both hands. As one steps into range, I swing it back ready to strike.

“FIGHT!!!”



For a moment, I stare at my reflection in the lengthy and luxurious reflecting pool, one of the many tourist destinations that make up the infamous National Mall. I flash a smile at the reflection before turning away from it to face the cameraman standing several feet away from me.

“Are you ready?” I question him politely. He replies with a silent nod.

“Very well. Shall we begin?” I inquire rhetorically as I take a step closer to him.

“I asked for this.”

Pausing for a moment, I let out a heavy sigh.

“I asked for all of this. The backlash stemming from my year long absence and my return to the ring, the unprovoked attempts at assaulting both Paxar and myself, even this upcoming weapons match. Yet though I did indeed ask The Duke of Detroit and the Director of Wrestling Operations Ryan Omega for this particular match, it was The Duchess of Dishonor who truly wanted it. Since my return to the ring against Lady Emevlas, The Duchess has saw fit to be a distraction to me seemingly every time I compete. Look no further than my most recent match against The False Deity Seth Iser. I could have defeated him, yet The Duchess decided to make her presence known. As a result, I was on the receiving end of a Deprivation DDT and yet another pinfall loss to that man due to shenanigans.”

Taking another step closer to the camera, I stare directly into it seriously.

“No more. This ends at Armed and Dangerous, Rayne. You seek to hurt me as you feel that I have hurt you? In that ring with weapons at your disposal, you will be able to attempt just that without any consequences for doing so. Though if you think I am merely going to stand there while you brutalize me, you are wrong. I fully intend to fight back. We were sisters by choice Rayne, not by blood. You chose to break that bond when you assaulted Paxar and myself on the night of my return and you chose to forge new bonds with those cretins that make up The Orphanage. The result of those choices will be your blood shed on the canvas at my hands. I do not take what I must do to you in this match lightly, but I have no qualms when it concerns brutalizing you with a barrage of weaponry until you can no longer move. You are the one that wanted this.”

For emphasis, I point at the camera for a moment before pointing my finger at my chest.

“I shall be the one to end it. You brought us here to the extreme, Rayne. Yet you, a woman all too familiar with the history of my family in the squared circle, forgot that history. My sisters not only went to the extreme on multiple occasions, they thrived there. There is a reason that the warhammer that Cera used to wield and I now possess carries with it such prowess. She used it to mercilessly batter her opposition with it, leaving them bloody and broken. The Silver Knight himself Sir Matthew used it as well in his latest confrontation with The False Deity in which he brutalized him with it. Now, you may say that I myself have never been to the extreme. You would be correct, of course, but as with most things there is a first time for everything. The ability to dominate under extreme circumstances is a family trait, coursing through my veins…”

As I blink, I let out a slight chuckle accompanied by a smirk on my face.

“Cera always wanted to diminish my pure heart, yet never could despite numerous attempts at doing so. No doubt now she would say that once I put her weapon in my hand and use it to beat the hell out of you that I would truly become tainted…”

Taking a quick glance down at my scarred arm, I shake my head.

“Perhaps I am tainted, Rayne. Perhaps I always was. Perhaps every Janason woman has been. Yet, unlike them, that is not what truly defines me. My heart is pure, my speed is swift, my toughness nearly unparalleled. No one would dare question my abilities as a competitor in that ring, with those same abilities earning me the respect of both allies and enemies all over the world. That is what defines me.”

I lean in closer to the camera, staring intently once more.

“Bring whatever weapons you choose, Rayne. Bring the entire Orphanage if you must. After all, they are your new family, which you quickly latched onto after betraying your former one. As for me? I have my friends, a newfound family of my own, and my sisters standing behind me should the need arise. However, all I believe that I shall require is myself and a warhammer with which you are intimately familiar. I am sure you shall be delighted to see it once more slamming into your face. When you step into the ring with me, I shall be both armed and dangerous. You, on the other hand? You will be left on the mat broken, bruised, bloody...and beaten at the hands of the one true Queen of the Visionaries.”