The Challenger's Return: Rebirth of the Rainbow Mage

Not sure if this is actually needed, but just in case, it couldn't hurt:

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Torture (is this how this is done btw?)

"I spent a long time with Mr. Proprietor and my friends, and eventually grew numb."

"I thought 'Is this what life is?' and felt happier that at least I had a place to stay."

Her 'voice' sounded airy.

Otto sensed that she was holding back a lot of emotion.

Then, Mirabelle cast her solemn gaze around the room, spending a second to make eye contact with each person.

"But then, Mr. Otto bought me."

A few rogue tears leaked from her eyes. Her voice choked up,

"I finally realized that maybe all along, that I just wanted to have a home."

"All of you have given me... a home."

"And for the first time, I thought, 'maybe it's ok to live for more than ten years.'"

Mirabelle smiled at them through her tears.

But she wasn't finished.

Her eyes firmed, and she tapped and gestured seriously with her right hand.

"I think all of you have the right to know my secret. It's…ugly."

Almost immediately after stating this, her eyes turned downwards, worry writ large on her face.

It wasn't until Julia cleared her throat and said gruffly,

"We'll keep your secret," while steadfastly avoiding her eyes, did Mirabelle silently laugh and feel somewhat more reassured.

Then, Mirabelle reached down, and pulled her shirt off.

The room quieted in an instant.

The team's words of comfort were immediately choked back.

Her upper body was a terrifying, deeply scarred mass of flesh.

In Mirabelle's bird form, her body was covered by her brilliantly colored feathers.

But as a human, it was to the point where Otto almost couldn't see a patch of normal skin.

Pale and yellow burn scars mottled her stomach, as if the slave traders had tried to roast her over an open flame.

Her arms were covered in blue and purple, where it was likely her wings were broken again and again.

Her chest was full of raised bumps, and an enormous, vicious red ring hung wide around her neck.

It was far and away the worst example of torture any of the kids had ever seen.

Silence coated the air like a cloying perfume.

Every single person at the table felt a sort of blank rage building up in their chest.

Even Otto was slightly shocked by their cruelty.

At that point, Mirabelle had been, what, a few months old?

Not fully mature, even by Chantrelle standards.

Those slave traders had very obviously actively, maliciously tortured her.

Worse was that if she had sung, her intelligence was obvious…

Jason was the first to turn his face away. His hand slammed down onto the table with a loud bang, causing it to dent slightly at the point of contact.

Then, he got up and walked away to hide his burning eyes.

This was the same Mirabelle they'd been teasing this whole time?

Elliott was sitting next to her. He did his best to hide his desperate emotions, and reached over to hold her small hand, then rubbed soothing circles on her back, scars be damned.

The more he got to know her, the more he felt fond of this little bird.

She had all the qualities he admired: she was hardworking, diligent, positive, intelligent, and never complained about her hardships.

Not to mention that she was enormously helpful to everyone in combat, and even when she made mistakes, she made sure to learn from them.

But what struck him most was that she was kind. Kind to a fault, even.

Whenever Jeremy, Julia, Jason (or even, occasionally, himself) complained about something: too much training, not enough good food to eat, no breaks, they felt tired, sore, couldn't sleep, etc., Mirabelle always found a way to help.

In the virtual world, she could do anything, taking time out of her own rest to bake bread or sweets after Jason taught her how they would be made on Earth, getting the team pillows, massaging their muscles while singing to put them to sleep (even if it was doubtful that insomnia actually occurred in the virtual world in the first place…), or just offering up a few encouraging words to help them to persevere.

Elliott's favorite phrase of hers that would always make the other three blush was,

"I can do it and I'm only 6! Hehe."

Then, she would stick her tongue out and run away as if she was really only 'six,' waiting for one of the four of them to chase her.

Suddenly, Elliott's eyes began to uncontrollably sting at the contrast between this crying, emotional Mirabelle and that chirpy, positive bird.

A few of his tears dripped onto Mirabelle's hand… she didn't pull away.

Jeremy didn't respond for a couple moments.

He almost instinctively entered into stealth to deal with his anger, to calm himself before speaking.

Otto shot him a meaningful glance and lightly shook his head.

Jeremy's fists clenched and he finally couldn't hold back his words.

His voice was deadly calm, but laced with something dangerous,

"Can we kill them?"

"Even if they're in a safe zone, doesn't Otto have that hammer thing in his room?"

"They oughta PAY."

As he spoke, he pounded on the table.

The table and his voice revealed cracks simultaneously.

Julia was already sobbing.

She knelt before Mirabelle and embraced her firmly.

The hug didn't end for a good long time.

Otto and Ramesthes exchanged glances as Jason returned to the room.

Ramesthes trotted over to Mirabelle and offered what small words of comfort he could.

He scratched his head.

The team sat in silence for half an hour.

Until Otto suddenly raised an eyebrow in Jeremy's direction, and spoke.

"How did you know about my gavel?"

His eyes rested on Jeremy meaningfully.

Jeremy didn't even have a moment to respond before Otto moved like lightning and caught him by the collar. Jeremy's eyes went wide with fear.

Otto pretended to take a small paddle out of his spatial storage ring.

Jason choked upon seeing it,

"Isn't that the one from our house!? H-How do you have that!?"

He instinctively backed away, while Otto looked at him in amusement.

Then, he turned back to Jeremy.

"For disobedient 14 year old chil- *ahem* teammates."

SMACK

SMACK

"Teach you to go into my room."

Jeremy's fake screams echoed throughout the room, until they were stopped, by a small tinkling, song-like laughter.

Mirabelle's face sported the widest grin the team had ever seen.

She signed,

"Thank you."

The team smiled at her in return. Suddenly Jeremy and Jason lifted her up, scars on full display, and carried her above their heads while cheering.

Elliott, Julia, and Ramesthes also followed, laughing and joking.

Until only Otto remained in the room.

His fake smile vanished along with the paddle made of mana in his left hand.

He painfully unclenched his right hand, revealing cuts to his palm so deep that bone was visible.

His hand dripped blood as he straightened it out.

In his mind's eye, a small figure stood, her upper body scarred almost beyond recognition.

It was precisely Mirabelle's torso.

Otto had memorized everything they'd done to her, right down to the shape of every distorted pore of her skin.

He cast his eyes downward to hide his murderous glare.

His expression reflected only ice.

Mana radiated outward from his body, swirling and condensing, growing in size, volume, and strength.

His figure cast a terrifying, barely moving shadow onto the ground.

The entire house shook down to its magically-stabilized foundations under the pressure of Otto's rage.

Then, he reined it in.

This emotion was something he wasn't willing to show his team.

He wouldn't even show his brother.

Otto breathed deeply.

The room was silent.

He looked up again.

Suddenly, the ice had melted.

He smiled, and it was as if spring had come.

The room warmed.

Otto pulled out his communicator.

His voice was light.

"Keyword is Orgrell, a group of humans, around 6 years ago."

"Yes…No…Nope, only looking to find them! Haha, yes, don't worry about it. I will take care of the rest."

"Here's a transfer. 100 Smekkers. I want this done fast."

"Thank you."

Otto ended the communication.

He walked out of the room.

Mirabelle was one of his from the moment he took her onto his team.

He would take care of this by himself.