Lilith, the Duchy of lakes, salt, and wealth, is said to have been ruled with an iron fist for thousands of years by a Ducal family, backed by the six noble clans of Lilith who live on the highest hills of the Eastern Shore.
Most people are unaware of this, but there is a tradition among the Devan's six clans that binds their youngest heirs to the ruler of Lilith through a marital engagement in order to avoid conflict of interest across generations.
One day, a particular pregnancy occurred within one of the six clans, and the child was to be born of a well-known name across the duchy and a particularly influential noble from one of the seven great noble families.
Upon the pregnancy being revealed to the clan, it has been decided that if the child were to be born a girl, she would, as requested by tradition, become a Matriarch of her clan and, by extension, marry the heir of the Ducal family of Lilith. If, on the other hand, the child were to be born a boy, he would be to become the clan’s Patriarch, and the tradition of becoming the Duchess would be passed onto the next born of the clan of appropriate rank. In either case, the child's destiny was already written before his or her birth, yet according to what happened next, the child's destiny was to take a very different turn.
As most of her clan were expecting, the child turned out to be born a girl and was born with an exceptional mana pool, fit for a noble of the highest rank and a mother to in the future bear a ducal heir, but alas she was born afflicted, requesting her to be baptized under the Authority of Djeem the Accursed, rather than being baptized under the Authority of Sora, Daughter of the Mountain, as she was expected to become the Duchy's Duchess in the future.
She was deemed unpresentable and even less bridable to the ducal she was promised by her clan from birth. She was not even claimed to be a clan member and was given the atipic name "Raflesia" as she was exiled far away from nobility to behold her sight, to Ondra, the island in the middle of the lake. Isle on which, Raflesia, the little girl, would spend her entire infancy with only her servants sent to care for her.
Soon came the little girl's coronation, but no name was given to her; still exiled on her little island where she was not allowed to live, she remained "Raflesia, the Accursed." But it would be untrue to say that her coronation hadn't changed anything for the little girl; she was now finally able to wield a power that was hers and hers alone; magic.
From the lineage she came from, Raflesia was expected to become both an earth, wind, and lightning magic user, which she turned out to be, but her first instance of using magic was not to split the earth apart, summon tornadoes, or even less condense lightning, but rather something rather more simple. Something she could never do as a child because of her inability. Raflesia played, using her magic, with the dolls, which she, with her condition so far, could only appreciate through the women taking care of her and playing on her behalf.
Raflesia was born with a gift that all experts in magecraft are born with: the ability to infuse and store mana within objects, which she did to give life to her doll.
She saw something in these dolls. What exactly?
She didn't know it yet, but Raflesia, with the help of the servants who were the closest thing she had to a family, created dozens of puppets that she controlled entirely on her own. At first she had a very hard time controlling one at a time, but it didn’t take her long to adjust to the control she had had two at a time, then three, then four, and so on till she felt satisfied.
Raflesia was very fond of the puppetry art she had developed. She loved seeing her dolls, through magic, take life and become more alive than she ever felt.
At first, she started with regular-sized dolls, and by stages, it went from regular-sized dolls to human-sized ones, which she made to assist the women she shared the island with.
Raflesia and her dolls had come a long way since the point where she couldn’t even play with them without the assistance of her servants, but she was still not satisfied. Her puppeting art had allowed her to reach an extent to which they could see, an extent to which "she" could see through them.
For her, who has been afflicted, unable to do anything on her own, this milestone was for her, for for the first time she truly experienced life through their yet-inexistent lens.
She wished and expected more from her dolls, more for herself.
Raflesia, knowing that there was nothing she could do by herself to upgrade her dolls in any way, made a request to her clan, the one to allow experts to come over to her isle to help her develop her dolls. But alas, her clan, fearing that the news of her existence would spread, refused her request.
This was, for Raflesia, who had been exiled from birth, her first time in 15 years feeling that anger and disappointment toward her clan. And though she took no measures toward this goal, she, within her heart, silently swore to take revenge upon them.
It happened a few years after Raflesia's 15th birthday, for the first time, as far as she recalls, that the isle received visitors other than her fellow clansmen. It is unspecified how he learned of her existence, but he did, and that day, he, the 40th Pontiff of the church, appeared on Raflesia's doorstep with a young boy and proposed his help and support with her art, as the Pontiff had explained that her art was of great interest to him, a help which Raflesia, of course, accepted.
With the Pontiff’s and his young assistant's help, Raflesia's first puppets, whose features were previously merely those of a faceless and expressionless mannequin, were now, under Raflesia’s control, similar to those of a human.
The first puppet, which they, together with their effort, came up with, was the one whose name and appearance Raflesia deemed to be the stellar opposite of hers. Raflesia called it Karen, whose name meant, in the old tongues, purity, an ideal which, with her own body, Raflesia thought she would never reach. Yet that day, she, through Karen’s lens, a doll that was by no means human, felt herself scratching, even if it was only slightly, the closest she had ever been to feeling herself fully human.
Not long after, Karen received an invitation from the Pontiff to enter under his protection, which would finally allow her to break free from the prison that little isle was meant to be for her, an invitation that Raflesia accepted, not as herself, but as Karen, Maiden of the Church, rather than Raflesia, the Accursed.
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Namely and officially coronated under the Caelus family of the Seven Great Nobles, it didn’t take long for the mysterious Karen Caelus, whose background was unknown to most, to rise to the rank of Bishop and, in the span of a single decade, to rise to the rank of Archbishop.
The Archbishop, Karen Caelus, as her rank allowed her to, returned to Lilith, where she took over the leadership of the Duchy by spreading her loyal followers across every important position in the duchy.
***
Sister Sarah went to a corner of the room, took an empty seat next to the others, only to, a moment later, reveal her true form, one of a lifeless doll.
"Back in the day when Faty Adidy was recently unleashed upon the "Faceless One", I was, among the fourteen, the one who, along with Ezekiel's siblings, was the most expected to find you instead of the Medvedik,... " she said, in a hoarse and tired-sounding voice.
I did not doubt her words, for I knew from what I was informed and was given to witness that dolls under her control were running rampant across this city. I can only imagine that it must’ve been the case years ago.
After all, this Archbishop is the one who, several decades ago, single-handedly took over the entirety of the Duchy. As unlikely as it was, up to very recently, she represented a huge percentage of the local clergy present in Lilith.
The Prioresses, Bishops, Clergymen, and the Archbishop of Karen Caelus are all aliases and alter-egos for the person in front of us.
" … May have it been me instead of these heartless duo, maybe the outcome of that night would have been different. Don’t you think, Faceless One or maybe do you prefer it if I call you Ronandt?"
I did not answer.
"Why this silence?" She asked, upon noticing my silence. "Is it because of my appearance? Because this is all that is left of "me"?'' She commented sarcastically, "Defiled might I be, your aggressor, I remain. Defiled might I be, loved I was. Weren’t you too, Faceless One?" She said, staring at me with those green eyes partially hidden by a hanging wart.
"To answer your question, maybe, but I see no point in dwelling on what could’ve been." I answered, neither replying to any of her two last questions. "Only what happened and what will happen matters."
"I see,... I cannot say I agree. Isn't it why you are here, in front of me? To claim retribution for that which could have been? That which has been stolen away from you?"
I remained silent.
"I have… often imagined it, how that night could’ve been. How we could’ve handled things differently."
"Are you saying that you regret what you did to me?"
"I do. Though it was the Medvedick work that led us to our current predicament, I still regret and realize that it was us who did you wrong. After all, you were a frightened and full of rage child, but a child nonetheless."
Strangely enough, I did not doubt her words.
"I know what it's like to be burdened by something over which you have no control." That night, had we given you room to speak for yourself, maybe things would’ve been different. But here you are, here we are. Though that doesn’t matter, I still would like you to know that I wished things that night didn’t escalate the way they did."
Unpleasantly enough, once again, I did not doubt her words. Not out of sympathy, but because of what occurred that night.
She was the only one, along with my great-grandfather, who fought me off after realizing I was only a child, and she was also the one from whose hesitation I had extracted the opportunity to retreat to the Iharana for a moment before being caught again by her fellow fourteen.
At that moment, a strange feeling was invading my heart, a very uncomfortable one. I didn’t know how to put it, but I didn’t like it.
"It is unsettling, isn’t it?" She asked, as if having read what was on my mind.
"Huh?"
"It’s unsettling, of course it is. I know how it feels. Why would you display regrets? After all those years, why now? Why are you genuinely asking me for forgiveness? How wouldn’t this be unsettling? After all, it wasn't what we came to them for. Disappointing to the end,.... she never gave me what I expected most of her to give me.
I had the clear impression that this one was not for me, but rather for herself.
Having heard of her story, I recognized that there were points where one could say that our situations were similar, but that had to be it.
"My my, … I think I might've transposed too much here."
"You’re wrong." I interrupted.
"What?"
"You might think I am like you, but I am not."
Looking at my side, I saw Nia, with whom I exchanged a gaze and a nod.
Stepping forward,"I am neither here for revenge or retribution. Just like how you have come for the little child that I was, I have, today, come for judgment, my judgment."
"Judgment, huh... I see." She nodded, as if having come to a conclusion.
She looked at me, then ventured her eyes to Nia at my side, whose eyes were fixated on the many dolls seated on their respective chairs around us.
She must have realized, just like me, the weirdness of these dolls the Archbishop used to puppeteer. While I was curious about how she was able to control, from the rumor, so many dolls, which were, when active, no different than a normal human, no different than a noble.
I have now finally got my answer. I wasn’t sure of the way they were made, but I realized immediately upon setting eyes on them what the raw materials that were used to make them were. And here I thought the barrier being fueled by the remnant’s mana was creepy enough.
A moment later, after the woman’s stare came back to me.
"I, here and now, agree with you that only you are right. There is no use in wondering what could’ve been. I have made my choice and you yours, and today it is upon us that their consequences dawn. "
As she spoke, around us, Nia and I began to notice moves from the puppets, all of them. And in their empty eye sockets, faint, creepy green flames flickered about.
If I were to guess, they would get fully active the moment Nia and I were to make a single move.
"Child, if our circumstances were different, I would’ve allowed you to pass judgment upon me, but despite the many lives I’ve lived and the oath I, Rafflesia, the Accursed, have made upon my life, there is only one person to whom I would allow myself to be held account to anyone but one person, his excellency, The Pontifex of the Church." She declared, closing her eyes.
The illusion dissipated at that point, and her already sickly defiled body assumed its true form, or what was left of it.
The already morbid sight unveiled a more morbid one.
As to where the rest of it was, a glance around us and a quick guess revealed the answer to my question.
I sensed an enormous amount of mana building up around us, no, around the entire isle.
"This is where it all ends. This is my final wail. " She announced, her voice not sounding human anymore.
The next instant, the entire isle was razed off the map by a storming tornado.