The stairs were always the worst part.
She could tolerate the rest. She was already used to the robes, for how she’d donned them for so long already. These ones were thicker, a bit, and yet still scraped the floor in much the same way. She’d almost tripped too many times to count. It took time for them to notice, just as it took time for her to speak with them at all. It was easier to move now, at least, and it made every step simpler to take. She could tolerate the eyes on her. She could tolerate the actual deed. She could tolerate the title in name alone, and she’d already tolerated the worst that came with it--born of crushing messages and cursed skin alike.
She raised one hand to the back of her neck, her fingertips not daring to breach the draping blonde shielding the wound. She feared touching it. It still hurt each time she turned her head the wrong way. It made climbing that much harder, given the way by which she struggled to look up.
The steps were endless thrice over, up and down again. Several weeks had done little to help her adjust, although she was fairly certain her legs were growing stronger. She’d thought to ask the clergy to carry her when her feet began to blister and her muscles began to ache. She strongly doubted they would. They spoke far too highly of her strength. She appreciated it and hated it all at once. Sonata would’ve let her be weak, maybe.
They’d let her do it alone today, at least. Allison liked the peace that came with isolation. It kept her title out of their mouths and the job at her leisure. She wasn’t rushed. She could enjoy what little there was to enjoy, empty as the world below otherwise felt. For that and that alone, she could endure the ascent, her beading sweat and her aching calves irrelevant. The city came second, crass as it was for the blossom to say. She liked the song better.
The little acolyte embraced the breeze so high above the Blessed City, the softest gust of a summer’s morning a welcome reprieve upon heated skin. Dawn graced the bell tower splendidly, rosy pinks splashing the waking sky as delicately as their namesake below. The silence was surprisingly beautiful, and the world above was hers to hold close. She alone could shatter its peace in the most lovely way. It was her birthright, made bitter by praise and expectation. That was the frustrating part. The actual task was all her heart could ask for.
She didn’t hate tolling the bell. Not in the slightest did she regret blessing the city with Valkyrie’s song, although there were days when she thought to keep it to herself. It was a feeble dream, and yet one that made her smile weakly to herself. It was her partner, after all. Technically, that was her birthright, too. It was a thought equally warm, and she treasured its calming cry. It awaited her with a sparkling shimmer and the stolen splendor of morning, the palette of dawn splattered upon resplendent bronze. For Valkyrie’s Call alone, she could smile.
One little hand trailed gently along the metal, just barely warm as it soaked in newborn sunshine. She preferred every color of the skies over Velrose that was caught in its reflection, and yet her own visage staring back felt almost intimate. Petting a bell was silly, probably. She did it anyway. Sonata might’ve thought she was weird.
“Good morning,” Allison murmured. “It’s time to wake up now.”
Talking to the bell was also silly, more than likely. For how close Sonata and Valkyrie had been, she liked to imagine the idea wasn’t hers alone. At the very least, Valkyrie’s Call never made fun of her about it. It was nice to her in that way.
“It’s pretty outside today,” she went on softly, patting the bronze with a delicate touch. “We have to say good morning to the city, too.”
If the clergy heard her talking to the bell, she wasn’t exactly sure whether they’d think her a devoted acolyte or an insane one. It was another benefit of being alone.
“Can you help me today like always? I’ll do my best. We can do our best together.”
It wasn’t as though the bell would ever answer. Still, it was the closest she’d get to companionship, and Allison swore she felt it in her heart. She had nothing to lose, should she cling to the feeling. She let her fingertips linger along the ever-warming metal for a moment longer before rescinding her touch.
With the dawn as her witness, she traded bronze for rope. The thick, rugged texture between her palms was never quite as comfortable as the smooth feel of the bell itself, and she had a preference. Regardless, Valkyrie’s Call was Valkyrie’s Call, and she loved her partner all the same. Were it not for the physical strain, she probably would’ve enjoyed the action that came with eliciting the song.
As it were, it was the product alone that she treasured right now. Actually ringing it was more difficult than she would’ve liked, and the rope alone was tricky to simply grasp. She’d seen Sonata do it a handful of times. She’d emulated the positioning as best as she could, although it came somewhat more naturally up close. It still left her sore, and the stairs always made it worse.
On the bright side, she was powerful, little or not. She held the city in her hands, and its guardian in her grasp. Not one person would miss her song, and it was a happiness she could shower Velrose with in full. It wasn’t enough of a thought to make her smile on the way up. It was still a solid motivator to start.
With more effort than was desirable, Allison braced against the floor of the bell tower. So, too, did she push hard off the limestone, leaping as high as was possible as she clung to the tolling rope. Her size was a detriment, and each toll always left her hanging awkwardly from the glimmering rope as she pulled. It had always amazed her that her body weight sufficed at all, and she concluded it to be her partner’s miracle. She was floating, suspended delicately aloft at the apex of the Blessed City. Where she fell to earth, Valkyrie’s Call sang in her place. It was her favorite part.
Logically, it was everyone’s favorite part, and she couldn’t blame them one bit. The bong that erupted at her side echoed harshly throughout her soul, blighting her eardrums with a volume that she was still getting used to. She didn’t dislike it at all. Every sensation she earned in the wake of the loudness was well worth the tolerance.
Her heart was happy, reverberating with every crystalline toll. Her blood pulsed gently, and the way by which it rippled from her head to her toes felt equal parts electric and magical. Allison was ringing in her own way, her skin vibrating and every part of her following suit. Valkyrie’s song rained onto the city below, carrying far along the winds of morning with every heavy pull of the tolling rope.
When she fell to earth, she kicked hard, sailing high above once more. She was most definitely sweating, and her ankles hurt after six tolls. Still, she persisted for Valkyrie’s sake. It was supposed to be for Velrose’s sake, granted--and, partially, it was. They deserved Valkyrie’s song just as much as she did, and she held the right to its blessing in her hands. It was her miracle. Regardless, it took two to grant a wish, and she couldn’t leave Valkyrie’s Call to do all the work. The thought helped her stifle the ache, and she buried her residual distress in the warmth of the bell’s resonant song.
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Eight tolls was satisfactory, and Allison descended to the floor of the tower with grace. Valkyrie’s Call set her down gently, as always, and she trusted its guidance. Velrose was most definitely awake now. In the aftermath, she was always torn between continuing and resting. Were she stronger, let alone bigger, she sometimes wondered if she could ring the bell endlessly. The thought of offering up Valkyrie’s song until the city got sick of it always made her giggle, and she wondered if it was even possible. The bell was simply too wonderful to hate. Even the clergy wouldn’t be mad, surely. Sonata would’ve told her to let Valkyrie take a break. She wouldn’t have disagreed.
Sonata could’ve tolled the bell forever, maybe. She was the best at it.
With her feet flat on the floor of the tower once more, the slight bite of soreness sunk into her ankles at last. It would dissipate soon, hopefully. Allison's blood was still resonating, somewhat, and she treasured the residual sensation while she had it. The echo of Valkyrie’s song still bounced off her soul preciously from within. Her hands tingled where a rope had graced them moments before, her skin warm and light. She’d asked the clergy about the sensations before. They weren’t all universal, apparently. It was one more thing that was special between her and her partner alone.
Sonata had felt them, too, probably. She wished she could’ve asked.
Allison once more exchanged materials, discarding rugged rope in favor of smooth metal. It still rumbled beneath her touch, her skin vibrating as she laid one palm flat upon the bell. She rested her body weight against Valkyrie’s Call, pearly robes clashing with deep bronze tints as she embraced its warmth at her back. It wouldn’t budge. It never did. She stole the rising sun with her eyes, peeking through rosy clouds and sprinkling rays onto her shoes.
Our acolyte has fallen.
It was a similar morning, at that time.
We must hurry.
Nowadays, at least, she could walk. They’d never made her run up the stairs again. She didn’t particularly want to.
It matters not if you know how. It will guide you. You are our hope, little blossom. Deliver us from sin, Lady Acolyte!
It should’ve been precious. There should’ve been warmth, the first time. She’d had suspicions as to the blood that splattered the rope beyond where her hands could reach. To this day, she tried not to think about it much. She didn’t always do a great job.
Please!
It wasn’t as though there was an alternative. Sonata would’ve wanted her to, anyway.
“I…hope I’m a good acolyte for you,” Allison murmured aloud.
She earned nothing. It was natural.
Allison rested her head against the bronze, the nape of her neck stinging slightly as blonde spilled in excess onto the metal. “I hope you’re…happy with me. Do you like it up here? The city is really nice from this high up. You can see everything.”
Once more, Valkyrie’s Call was silent. It would be several hours before she could hear it again.
“Do you get lonely when I’m not up here? I feel bad leaving you all by yourself at night. Do you get cold? Maybe I could…stay with you, just one time.”
The clergy surely wouldn’t allow it. Were the acolyte to freeze to death at the side of the blossom’s guardian, the city would fall to pieces. They’d have no acolytes left, and that would be a different problem altogether. It was still a nice thought.
She stroked the bronze with dangling fingertips, embracing the smooth sensation beneath her touch. “Did Sonata used to talk to you like this? Am I weird for talking to you? It makes me happy. I like it when we’re together.”
Our acolyte has fallen.
There was no one else left to be together with.
“Do you have a favorite?” Allison asked, her eyes cast far to the sky beyond. “Between me and mommy and Sonata, who do you like best? Did you have a favorite acolyte?”
Our acolyte has fallen.
You are our blessing.
She had two, once. Now, she had neither.
“I think they were both really great acolytes, just in different ways. I think they both loved Velrose a lot. They loved you a lot, too.”
Our acolyte has fallen.
You will play thrice daily. Your song honors her sacrifice, little blossom.
Velrose needs you. You are your hope.
Blessed is the blossom.
“I love you just as much. Maybe I can love you even more than that,” Allison offered softly.
Our acolyte has fallen.
There was nowhere else for worldly love to go.
She turned to face the bell with slow steps, dodging her reflection to the best of her ability. Were Allison to see iridescent garments inherited and cascading blonde stolen, her once-resonating heart would burn. If another acolyte entirely stared back, she’d have to surrender her partner. There was someone who rang the bell far better. It had simply been awhile. Sonata surely hadn’t forgotten how, for all of the years she’d guarded Velrose so lovingly.
She wasn’t Sonata. She didn’t want to be Sonata. She didn’t want there to be another Sonata at all. Her one and only regret would be losing Valkyrie’s companionship, and it would still be a trade more than worth it. She hoped Valkyrie’s Call wouldn’t resent her for the thought, should her thoughts be too loud.
Allison tapped her forehead delicately against the bronze, the warm metal kissing her skin. “Do you ever miss them? I miss them a lot. I think it’d be fun if we were all acolytes together. I don’t know if we’d be allowed to do that. Would it be okay if we shared? Would that make you upset?”
She didn’t mind the silence. From here, that was warm in its own way.
“I’m happy I get to be your acolyte. I’m happy you let me play you. I hope you love me, too.”
Our acolyte has fallen.
Blessed is the blossom.
You are our hope.
You are our savior, Lady Acolyte.
There was no one left to love her the right way, either.
The sun was cresting. Her aches had mostly been discarded, blunted by quiet companionship with one who wouldn’t answer. The downside to fluffy robes was the heat, and extended exposure to the hot summer sun would be uncomfortable. She had time before the day broke in full. She still had to descend, if nothing else. She didn’t look forward to that, either.
She regretted leaving, regardless. She always regretted leaving, even if she’d be back soon enough. Allison sighed. She patted the bronze once more, three uniform taps that graced her skin with shimmering warmth.
“I’ll be back later, okay? Wait for me. I love you.”
Were she to hear it back, it was all her heart would ever need. Even once would be enough. She supposed simply having Valkyrie’s Call in her heart should’ve sufficed, and that comfort was enough to keep her soul light already. Still, it would’ve been wonderful. She hadn’t heard the words in awhile.
Shunning the bell was hard. She’d feel the consequences of the tolling on her body once she started the descent, more than likely. Allison left the peaking sunrise at her back and made for the staircase, solemnly content to fall to the depths of the church once more. Free of Valkyrie’s grace, there was only her. Where their focus fell not to their guardian, it fell to their blossom.
No longer would her world be for two, nor would her song be private. Velrose would claim her, and she would be the acolyte of all. It was necessary. It made her want to stay. Sonata might’ve chided her for that. The encouragement, born of scolding or otherwise, would’ve been delightful.
Blessed is our blossom.
She was tired. She was always tired. Were she to peer over her shoulder and steal the bell’s soft splendor with her eyes once more, Allison would never find the drive to depart.
Our acolyte has fallen.
By choice or not, that was the one and only reason she could.