Love is a god, and She Demands Empathy

Part I: They Do Not Deserve You

"No sword, just a shield then. No sharp edges."

"Only the strongest of us ever could. And that is not you, Diana."

ßßß

"Isabel, my love, I've told you not to bother your father like this, no?" Minerva Maru scolded her little girl. "Leave him to his formulas, and he'll figure this illness out more quickly," small Isabel's face contorted in confusion, after all, she understood this particular piece of the puzzle. "Come, Isabel, it is time for your language lessons," her mother finished as she steadily pulled the child away from her father's study.

"But mama, I know how to help him." The bright-eyed little girl could not be contained by her disappointment in being denied once again. "Please, let me–,"

When they were out of listening distance of Dr. Maru's study, Isabel wasn't prepared for her mother to stop, quickly crouch down, and tightly grab both of her shoulders. "Isabel, we've spoken about this. You cannot walk down your father's path. I know you're smart. So much smarter than I was at your age, but you just can't. It's not done, my love." Minerva verged into her native Italian.

"Mama, you're hurting me," the little girl whimpered as her mothers fingers left indents in her shoulders. Upon realising her daughter's pain, Minerva quickly released her daughter with a kiss on the forehead. She quickly brushed away the tears that had begun to speckle little Isabel's cheeks, not out of pain, but frustration. "Why, mama? Why isn't it done?" Isabel hissed in angry confusion, mirroring her mama's mother tongue.

Minerva looked her daughter in the eye, and considered being kind to her, telling her something innocuous, like 'I'll tell you when you're older'; instead, Minerva decided her beautifully gifted daughter deserved the truth, "Because you aren't a man, my love. Because our world is cruel to women who are smarter than the men around them, like you will grow up to be. Like you already are, my beautiful little dove."

Isabel's teary expression became confused again, "But why mama?"

The youngest Maru found herself pulled into a firm hug, "I don't know, my love. I just don't," Minerva murmured into her daughter's raven locks.

ßßß

"You are stronger than you know, you just need to believe."

" It was me, I asked her to."

"Ares is alive! I can feel it in my bones."

"Fine. Train her harder than any amazon before. Until she is even better than you."

ßßß

"What do you think about Dreyfus? The kike is guilty as sin don't you think?"

Isabel Maru wasn't particularly paying attention to the conversation across the quiet pub, but she knew it was about the well-publicized French travesty happening on the continent that started almost a decade ago. Without drawing too much attention to herself, she flagged down the buxom barmaid. Despite the crowds on occasion, she was a sucker for a calm drink at the local pub. As the barmaid passed the men's table, one of them reached a hand out with ill intent, but only to be dodged with practiced ease. Wiping the foam from her lip with her handkerchief, she greeted the auburn barmaid with a flash of her dark eyes.

"What can I get for you lass?" she asked as she practically bounced over to Isabel's solitary table.

"I'd like the sweetest pint you've got," Isabel replied with cultured ease, though with a notably foreign, though continental accent. Isabel's eyes calmly, if a little hopefully, monitored the woman's expression as she took Isabel's request. To Isabel's surprise, the barmaid's pale cheeks flared briefly. Before the barmaid walked away to fulfil the order, Isabel decided to venture a question, "Miss, have those men been bothering you?" Isabel's tone was kind enough, but she wasn't as good at keeping the murderous intent out of her eyes completely.

The barmaid was taken aback, but not unkindly. The sight of this foreigner, and a teenager no less asking after her welfare was well, sweet. Offering the younger girl a kind frown, the barmaid replied, "It's nothing I'm not used to, or can't handle. How old are you lassie?"

Isabel conceded, "Old enough." At the persistent gaze of the barmaid, she relented, "Sixteen."

The Barmaid raised an eyebrow, but decided to offer the teenage foreigner an olive branch, "Name's Morag, let me know if they bother you, alright?" Isabel nodded as Morag went to fetch her a cider.

After a couple minutes punctuated by some more uncouth remarks from the soldier's table, Morag returned with a cider, "Sorry, but all we have is this English drink." Morag muttered dejectedly. Isabel tasted it and let out a chuckle at the barmaid's nationalism.

"I'm guessing you prefer the Scottish alternative," Isabel ventured.

To her surprise, Morag shook her head. "Don't snitch, but I actually prefer the German swill over the others," Isabel chuckled some more at that.

Morag glanced over at the other occupied tables, and noticed that they hadn't quite finished their drinks, and the head bartender, Ben, was lazily wiping down the bar top. The teenage girl in front of her leisurely sipped at her cider, while her eyes flitted back and forth between the barmaid and some papers in front of her. "What are those?" Morag asked.

Isabel focused on Morag for a moment before answering, "Everything I've ever dreamed of." Isabel's voice wasn't nearly as well, happy as the sentence should've made it seem.

"And yet…" Morag prodded.

"And yet, I'm worried I'll disappoint everyone." Isabel finished with a frown. She considered a moment, and decided to unburden some of her self on this kind Scottish woman. "I'm from an old family on my father's side, but from India. So his father suffered quite a lot in Europe, and passed that perseverance onto my father. My mama isn't Christian either, so her family has also suffered. Her ancestors were slaughtered at the pleasure of those who thought themselves better." Isabel's voice had become quiet, as to not alert the men at the table a few metres away to her otherness, but Morag could understand the young girl quite well.

"You're a gypsy then?" Morag asked kindly. Isabel's eyes flew up at Morag, not because of her words, but because there was no dislike in them.

"Yes, but I have more Jewish blood than Romani." Isabel basically whispered.

Morag was quite for a moment before offering the girl in front of her some support, "My mother and I worship the old Irish goddess, The Morrigan. Not the new one with his prophetic son," she winked at Isabel, whose expression became less dire at Morag's confession. "Do you keep your mother's faith?" Morag asked softly.

Isabel thought for a moment before answering, "Not any more." Something unidentifiable to Morag burned in Isabel's eyes for a moment before they flitted upward and retrained their former light. Isabel Maru took a deep breath as she splayed her hands out across the documents in front of her. "These are from a university in Germany. They'll let me study what I've always wanted. And I'm so scared that I won't live up to my family's legacy."

Morag made an executive decision and plopped down into the booth next to the young girl. "I'm just a barmaid, and I don't know if I'll ever leave this town, so my ah, wisdom is limited." She took a deep breath. "But I think you'd be letting your family down if you didn't take this opportunity. You see those men over there?" Isabel nodded. "I'd fucking kill each one of them with their butter knives if it meant I could have what you do. But that's not how the world works, and no, I've nothing against you lass; but this is an opportunity that I'm sure was denied to your ancestors on the merits of their blood, no mind their sex." Morag raised an eyebrow at Isabel, who for her part flushed a little bit, but nodded all the same. "You've said it yourself, 'Its everything I've ever wanted', was it? There's no better way to betray your heritage than denying yourself that which you truly desire most. So, when you get to Germany, what is it you will study?"

Isabel Maru drains her cider and puts it on the table. She opens her eyes after savouring the last of the delightful drink. She looks up at Morag with her eyes shining once again and calmly declares, "I'm going to become the best chemist in the world."