One month prior to the present day in the Ancient Cathedral, a prelude to darkness…
Through the window by the side of her bed, the elven devata known to her friends and peers as Sister Alyssa could see so clearly that the sky beyond the Cathedral was still dark, the stars and moon still shimmering silver amidst the darkness of the skyline of the Upper City made reality from the holy city’s many beautiful spires and towers dwarfed only by the grandeur of this ancient palace of royalty and worship built in reverence of Elicia. Even if dawn, like all things, would arrive in time.
Quietly, she pulled the curtains back to cover the window, and looked around the room through the nightlights around her lit with tiny flames wavering weakly in the dark. Sister Violet and Sister Natasha were still asleep, the former silent like a corpse with the latter snoring softly into the silence of the darkened room. And for good reason, too.
It was still early into the night, after all.
With a small smile upon her lips, Sister Alyssa lay back down upon her bed, pulling back the sheets as the back of her head felt once more the warmth and softness of her pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, only to have her own thoughts make themselves known to her so deafeningly and undeniably. So much so, that she felt the tips of her elvish ears twitch as she tried to silence her mind if only for the respite she so desperately wanted, even if only to ease the passage of time. That in this moment, felt like one eternity after another as she lay in bed.
Indeed, she wondered so keenly even now, what would happen next, and what could be. She did, after all, volunteer with such gusto for her task ahead, if only to see the world far beyond the Holy See of Arcadia. To serve, in the name of the Central Church, those in need to make a stride towards the perfect world espoused in the divine words of the Codex Elicia where humans and elves could live together in peace. She had seen the work of the Central Church first-hand, and faithful service, she was sure, was the key to working towards this envisioned world by mending the wounds and scars of wars long past. Even if she knew so painfully well within her that many of her fellow elves here in both the Upper and Lower City believed such logic to be complete naivety. And that it was best, much like those wandering Wild Elves who rejected most of Elicia’s Law, to stay away from mankind and their Archons who ruled the world in their god’s name.
It was, after all, the reason why she had left the comforts of the mansion that was her home, of which was now to her little more than another part of the Upper City’s elegant skyline. Never return, her father had told her, all but spitting out the words when he had heard the news of what he had so succinctly put as his only child consorting with the enemy. And it hurt her that he could not understand that Elicia, as per the words she had studied so diligently from her Codex and had seen so clearly from the works carried out by her fellow devatas of the Central Church, loved her subjects each and all.
Now, however, long after she had made her peace with him, it no longer mattered. What mattered, was instead the task ahead that she had volunteered for, when the call for an elven devata came from distant lands. Perhaps it was easier to simply go to an Elven Reservation such as Eldia to serve Elicia in its almost fully elven clergy in an elven community, but a part of her knew that Wintervale was the place to go, if only to make the difference in the Melodia she hoped to see. It was with this that she had done her fair share of reading on this human village, speaking to travellers and pilgrims visiting the Ancient Cathedral at length about it if only to learn all that she could. Even so, books and hearsay could only do so much in preparation for a new life in a world beyond the Holy See of Arcadia.
And she wondered, perhaps even more acutely as she lay in bed, what her friends who slept nearby thought of this, if they would miss her too like she would miss them. She wondered also, perhaps too brazenly so, if she was in their dreams and their waking thoughts this night as she thought about them in hers. Or that perhaps, to them she was but another devata, another colleague in the ever-growing clergy of the Central Church. And perhaps, in the darkness of the night as she felt her thoughts slowing down, as she felt so softly her pillow upon the back of her head as she closed her eyes, it was best left unsaid.
Best left untold, forever.
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A few hours later, just before dawn…
The next time Sister Alyssa opened her eyes after being gently shaken from her slumber, she could see Sister Natasha gazing lovingly upon her with eyes blue like aquamarines, her red hair slipping from her hood as she sat upon the bed dressed in her devata robes of white trimmed with purple and gold. Now, the lights were on, and in the blurry distance of her groggy vision, she could also see Sister Violet sitting down upon her own bed and faced away from the both of them, dressed in hooded regalia of similar make that went so well with her long brown hair.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Morning, sleepyhead!” Sister Natasha said to Sister Alyssa with a smile so bright that it made her smile in turn. “It’s time for morning prayers!”
“Yeah, it’s time, isn’t it? I…”
Sister Alyssa closed her eyes, her smile turning to sudden sadness as Sister Natasha leaned in to embrace her. Sister Violet had joined in as well, and as they held each other close, she felt a slight wetness upon her nightgown as she embraced them both with all her heart and soul.
“I’ll miss you both so very much…”
“Violet and I, we’re so proud of you!” Sister Natasha exclaimed, her voice a hoarse whisper. “And yet, I…”
She then stepped away from their embrace, her body quivering as tears rolled down her eyes and onto her blessed regalia.
“I’m sorry, Alyssa… I made a promise that I won’t cry today! Because, I know you’ll be alright, and I…”
“It’s okay!” Sister Alyssa exclaimed, tears in her purple eyes as she looked at both her friends. “We’ll always be together in spirit! I promise I’ll write back! They have a postal service in Wintervale, so…”
“It won’t be the same without you!” Sister Violet added in-between choking sobs. “But it’s okay, though! We’ll always remember our time together! Right, Natasha?”
“Yeah…”
With a wistful smile, Sister Alyssa opened her eyes and looked at both Sister Violet and Sister Natasha with a bittersweet fondness. It had been years, and with the three of them together, this shared bedroom and the Ancient Cathedral itself held for them so many warm memories. Of good times and tougher times, of setbacks and dreams fulfilled. It was unthinkable once, that an elf could ever become a devata and claim communion with Elicia, she who reigned supreme as the god of mankind and divine overlord of all Arcadia. She remembered how a few of her peers and even some of the visitors to the Ancient Cathedral would make that opinion very clear to her whenever they spotted her knife-shaped ears poking out from her hood.
Not Sister Violet or Sister Natasha, though. With them, it was as though none of this nonsense about the shape of her ears ever mattered, that she was but another fellow devata of the Central Church’s ever-expanding clergy. Until today, where everything that once was, would change for better or worse. She recalled so vividly and fondly how the Ecclesiarch herself had spoken of this to her when she had met her immaculately beautiful personage in her Studio the day prior, where they had spoken at length over a most lavish teatime about what was to be expected of her in Wintervale, a human settlement far from the Holy See of Arcadia. About the trials ahead for one girl willing to face it all in her stride.
“But…” Sister Natasha said after a while, as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her robes. “We’re going to be late at this rate, so let’s get you all readied up!”
“Like the first day we met, in this room…”
“Yes indeed!” Sister Violet chirped, the sadness in her voice replaced with excitement as she grinned first at Sister Alyssa and then at Sister Natasha. “We insist, as a final parting gift!”
Admittedly, it took everything within Sister Alyssa to fight back the tears welling up inside of her as they sat her down before the dressing table. But as her friends fussed over her with their soft fingers dancing gracefully all over her head with a whirl of combs, brushes and makeup, she found herself smiling as she closed her eyes thoughtfully at the sight of her golden hair being so lovingly worked upon. She remembered how it used to be so long, flowing down to the back of her waist. And she remembered how years ago, Sister Eliza from the room upstairs had ambushed her with her cronies, tearing at it with their scissors snipping furiously at everything of her that they hated.
It was, after all, those elvish ears that Sister Eliza had professed to hate with such passion that she only wished she knew why. And it was going to be saved for last, for a time that thankfully never came. Were it not for Natasha and Violet back there, she was certain she would have nothing left. And it was also there and then, that they had brought her before this very mirror in their shared bedroom, using scissors of their own to snip away the uneven edges of what hair remained, turning what had been destroyed into something beautiful. Ever since that day, she had worn her hair short, letting its golden locks fall gracefully close just short of her shoulders. Like a crown of gold fit for a queen, as Sister Violet would tease to her so playfully.
“There, all done!” Sister Natasha exclaimed triumphantly. “Open your eyes again, sleepyhead!”
“Oh, my… I’m…”
She paused mid-sentence and smiled deeply at the beautiful reflection before her, who smiled back at her upon the mirror with an immaculate complexion and lovely golden hair prepared so well for the day ahead. And yet, a part of her felt hollow even as her best friends celebrated the handiwork they had accomplished in what little time remained before morning prayers. It was a bittersweet feeling that ate at her even as she smiled and thanked them with all her heart, tore at her insides even as they helped her into the silken comfort of her holy vestments, and left her solemn as they walked out of the room together to congregate with their peers downstairs for those morning prayers. And perhaps Sister Violet and Sister Natasha, bless them both, felt the same way too, for they were silent every step of the way down.
After all, it was going to be the last time, at least for a long time.