Time drained our coffers as our fortunes worsened. The current state of the town was not unprecedented, but for it to decline immediately after our divine spell of good fortune made it seem far worse. Murmurs of sin and deserved punishment filled the town; the citizens could not accept that their lives lay at the whims of fate’s spinning dice. Someone had done something, and the gods were displeased. But who, and what? Nobody could say.
The military had burned through much of our food and gold reserves in several drawn-out battles simultaneously, high on the divine favour they presumed warded them. These battles had not gone smoothly as they had hoped. Either they underestimated the enemy, or overestimated themselves—and nobody wanted to consider the enemy stronger than God’s will. This year’s harvest could not compensate, and food had to be rationed. We were not starving yet, but the possibility loomed over our heads like an omen. Medicine and wards had to be reserved for the maimed military, plunging the rest of the populace into poor health, compounded by our lean diets. The head priestess’ shoulders weighed heavy with the confessions and lamentations she heard on a daily basis from the commoners. She eventually gave in to my pleas and allowed me to man the confessional on occasion—a decision that I came to regret.
“They say you descended upon a winged steed bearing gifts. Where the hell are they? Surely you could afford to hand out a few bowls of soup. All I have to eat are crumbs after my son has had his share—which, mind you, is hardly enough to feed a toddler! And we’ve got another baby on the way!”
“It’s absurd that there isn’t a drop of sphia in this town. Not one! Do the soldiers like the taste of it too much to spare some for the rest of us peasants? My father can hardly get out of bed, and none of us can get any sleep with his wailing through the night. I’m sure the church has some—hell, I’m sure you could brew a vial if you were so inclined.”
“My crops are dead, and I can’t afford to wait till the next harvest. I can barely afford to plant another crop. Why? I told him… I told my husband that new house was a bad idea! Seems like the moment we bought it, everything’s gone to the dogs. Say, maybe you hate that hideous coat of yellow he painted it over with? I’ll do anything to paint it to your liking. What colour would you prefer?”
It was agony. Attendance doubled as the town lined up to vent their anger at me. While nobody went so far as to accuse me of cursing the town, they all expected me to do something about the situation. All I could do was acknowledge their troubles, but I lacked the courage to make promises. My empty platitudes disappointed everyone that showed up. I was heartbroken. I was angry too; not at them, but myself for being so powerless. My respect for the head priestess only grew knowing how her heart must have broken having to endure this alone.
“Before I showed up, who handled the confessional?” I flopped onto a chair, exhausted from the day’s work.
“Me. I rarely let anyone else do it.”
“I don’t understand how you did this for years.”
“Well, people weren’t as angry then. But there were times like this too.”
“Hm… well, that doesn’t really answer my question.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t have a good answer. When it became too much to bear, I cried into my pillow. That was all I could do.”
“What about the other nuns? Couldn’t you have vented to them a little?”
“The other nuns”—her voice softened, her face forlorn—“never wanted much to do with me.”
“Why’s that?”
“We get along fine, but… I’ve known most of them since we were kids, but there was never time for anything beyond small talk. I spent my childhood buried in books, devoted to the convent. Naturally, the circles they formed excluded me. I never gave myself a chance to be a part of them. And why should I have? I was training to be a nun; a servant of God. Helping the needy fulfilled me far more than talking to children my age did. Looking back, that was horribly pretentious of me.”
“I don’t think it’s pretentious to help people.”
“No, that’s not it—my intentions were not as pure as you assume. Maybe it filled me with a sense of superiority, or perhaps it was an excuse to justify my stunted social skills. I don’t know. Either way, there was no room in my heart for anyone other than strangers seeking aid. Not even an inch,” she said, looking at me sternly.
“I see… It never once seemed to me that you and the nuns were on bad terms.”
“Bad terms? I wouldn’t say that… They didn’t hate me. I still talked to them on occasion, and we shared meals together. But I could always sense the distance between us that iced over time, and neither of us wanted to break it. It wasn’t hate, but… they saw me as an outsider, one that could never understand their whims and troubles.”
“Yet they let you man the confessional! That’s funny.”
She giggled. “You might be right. Then again, it is my duty. You know, one of them did once tell me that I was the perfect nun, and that she wanted to be like me. We never spoke after that conversation. I was not a friend to confide in—I was simply an ideal for her to strive towards, even if I did not feel I met that standard.”
“...That might be putting you on too high a pedestal.” I pause, realising I might have offended her. “What I meant was that she saw you purely as the role you played: a nun. The congregation only needs you to act as a nun, but a friend should see past that… that’s what I think, anyway. I’m not one to talk.”
“I don’t know… Standing atop this pedestal—that was and will always be my role; one I have no choice but to play. In hindsight, my childhood was a terrible mistake. It locked me into this path. However, I have no regrets. I have saved lives, and will continue to save lives. That is the least I can do to repay those that raised me.”
My world shrunk over time, leaving her as my only refuge. I desperately took on more of her work. She understood and empathised with my pain completely, having experienced the same. We became inseparable, sharing meals and even baths together, too exhausted after a long day’s work to wait in turn. I became obsessed with confiding in her, as though my thoughts were meaningless unless she heard them. She reciprocated, telling me her hesitations over the future, and stories of her past. Soon we came to know almost everything there was to know about each other—a bond I had never once experienced in my countless years of life. It intoxicated me. The angel painted in the stained glass window had always seemed mute, as though it were me frozen in death—but when by her side, it turned vivid—full of life, like the wells of amber in her eyes. I longed to be reflected in them now and forever.
“Quite the line today,” I observed through the window with apathy as I concentrated on brushing her smooth, golden hair. Listening to the commoners was no less depressing than before, but it had become routine.
Her eyes, reflected in the dingy dressing table mirror she sat before, stretched open and flicked up to meet mine.
“Perhaps you should let me listen to them. The sight of you agitates them sometimes.”
“No. No. I’ll do it. Don’t you worry.” I continued brushing her hair gently as a mother would.
“Why? I appreciate you doing this, but…”
“I’ve seen the toll this takes on you. Is it so wrong to let me shoulder that burden?”
“Yes, but… I’m a priestess, you know? I was trained to do this. And we can’t have you at the confessional forever. If the people would rather lament to me, it is only right that we let them.”
“The people? But—” My words hung in the air. Something had changed. I stepped towards the window, and sensed a rumbling.
“What’s wrong?”
I opened the window a crack and the issue became clear. The noise! A massive crowd had gathered two storeys below us, yelling on the streets. Both displeasure and confusion showed in their voices; this couldn’t be an organised protest. They had simply gathered and realised they could complain to each other rather than wait their turn for a chance to vent at the deity; neither approach helped, so why wait?
“Um… they seem a little unhappy.”
“Oh no. No, no, no… No, see, this is what I meant. I should have faced them instead of you. How, how”—her voice began to quiver—“long has it been since I last swapped with you? I’ve been so busy with the inventory and coffers lately that…”
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“Relax. Stop worrying. This really isn’t healthy for you—”
The sound of glass breaking shattered the warmth that enveloped us both in our room at the top of this place of worship. I looked down—someone in the crowd had taken the initiative to throw a rock into the chapel. For a moment, the street fell silent—but just for a moment. Chaos ensued immediately after. Rocks rained against the walls of the chapel, shattering the windows and chipping away at the walls.
“No! What—what’s going on!” The priestess rushed to her feet and towards the window. The shock at having our sanctuary violated so brazenly in broad daylight stunned me into silence. The frenzied mob climbed in through the broken windows and rushed into the chapel. Moments later, they returned, their arms full of stolen silverware.
The people were looting the chapel. Perhaps there were a few among them poor enough that they had no other resort. The majority of them were not, but emboldened by the crowd regardless to follow suit. They streamed in like filthy rats.
“No! Stop! Stay away!” Heads turned below towards the head priestess’ voice: one they had not heard for a while.
“It’s her—and the deity! Up there, in that window—look!”
“What? What are they doing up there? Shouldn’t they be opening the chapel? Look at how many of us are here already—would it hurt to open the doors a little earlier?”
“What do you mean? She’s half-dressed! Where’s her habit? Her hood? I’ve never even once caught a glimpse of her hair before, and here she is, yelling at us looking like she just rolled out of bed!”
“Isn’t that the Shepherd next to her? With—what, a brush in her hand?”
“What the hell? Bloody nuns have all the time in the world to look prim in the morning, do they?”
“And to think they’re living off our money! I can barely afford to put food on the table—what a sight!”
“Hey! You fools! Stop looting the place and find them! Drag the nuns out here, every one of them—they’ve mocked our faith long enough! And that so-called Child of God too!”
“Everything’s gone to shit after she showed up. Everything! And to think she gets to live here for free, like royalty!”
“Who’s the one that let her? The head priestess, that’s who! Find her!”
I slammed the window shut and drew the curtains. Blood drained out of my body, and the room began to spin.
What… What’s happening?
Her voice cut through the fog. “No…! They’re in the chapel… What do we do? What am I supposed to do?!”
“We…” My mind drew a blank. I did not want to face the crowd.
The floor shook as the crowd thundered up the stairs, throwing doors open and ransacking rooms on their way up. They would rip us apart and to shreds.
All I wanted was a home and someone to love. It took me all of eternity to find what I sought. Homes can be reconstructed, but people cannot. If I let her slip through my hands now, how long will it take for me to find her again? There might never be a second chance, for she is not immortal as I am.
“Hide! We have to hide—quickly!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me into the closet, snapping me back to reality. I shut the door behind me, plunging us into a womblike darkness. The thick, mahogany doors muffled the frenzy of the mob, granting us a moment’s relief. We both knew it would not last; but what were we to do? We were animals trapped in a cage. There was no way out—except through the window, to our deaths.
“It’s… really warm, and hard to breathe… Could you move a little?” She squirmed uncomfortably, her back against the wall of the cupboard.
“There’s no space. If I move, the doors will creak open.”
“Ah… well, to be honest, we’re likely to be found anyway, with how they’re turning our rooms inside out… maybe we should have chosen a better hiding spot. Or the window…”
“No. Absolutely not. I will not watch as you throw your life away for no reason.”
“You don’t have to. We could go together, hand in hand.”
“I would never. That isn’t what my hands were made for.”
“So stubborn. I think it’d be a beautiful show of defiance.”
“Defiance?”
“That the head priestess with her heart in the clouds, yearning only to serve the people, could find a friend to die with.”
“Nobody is dying today.”
Her smile did not reach her eyes, still filled with terror, but it was a smile nonetheless. It disappeared in an instant as the mob thumped their fists against the door to our room.
“Hey! This one’s locked!”
She wrapped her arms around me how only someone staring death in the face could. I reciprocated, knowing that this might be my last chance to feel her warmth. Her heart thumped against mine. Her body, drenched in sweat, heaved as though every ragged breath she drew seared her lungs.
“Are you okay?”
“No. I’m terrified.”
You’re not the only one, I held myself back from saying. The sight of her on the verge of panic was enough to push me over the edge too. There was so much left unsaid between us. So many days left unspent together. I am not asking for the world. All I want is a slice of it; this chapel, for us to call home. I want to show you that you need not walk this path alone. Is that too much to ask?
The door to our room splintered open with a crash.
“It’s empty. What? Did they jump out?”
“No, you fool, they’re obviously hiding.”
“There might be a secret passage. Search the other rooms! We’ll search this one.”
Tears streamed out of her eyes wide as saucers as she began to hyperventilate.
“Calm… calm down… I need you to calm down, or they’ll hear us,” I whispered.
“Where… where are you? I can’t see you… it’s too dark…”
“I’m here. I’m right here. Look, I’m holding you as tight as I can.”
“Do something… can’t you do something? Make them leave…!”
“How? We just have to hide. Just stay calm and pray they won’t find us.”
She opened her eyes, wide and furious. “How?! You’re… you’re the Shepherd! Do something! Use your sword and cut them down! Blow them away with your light! They’ll kill us, don’t you get it?”
I can’t. I can’t do that. “I wish I could. I can’t.” I hugged her tighter. “I love you, but I can’t.” I felt her heart beat once—twice—before she screamed, shoving me back and out of the closet, into the light. For a moment, I hung still in the air, falling backwards, her face furious and streaked with tears that sparkled, pristine, clear.
The moment passed and I tumbled, slamming my head against the floor. The mob turned and stared, stunned. She was the one that broke the silence. She saw the mob in full view, and sense returned to her eyes. They narrowed in shock and confusion.
“You fell… just a slight push, and you fell like a little girl,” she mumbled in a daze. I touched the back of my head. It was damp with blood.
“Immortal, but you bleed so easily.” She looked down at me, her face blank and pale.
The mob’s faces contorted with shock and disgust. “Where were they? Where did you find them?” one asked. “In the closet! They were both in there—doing what, who knows!”
“No… I didn’t… She pulled me into the closet and trapped me there, against the wall!” Her eyes were wide open, burning with fury, staring through me, tears streaming out of them.
“The deity? She did?”
“Deity…? She’s no deity at all… All she’s done is bring misfortune on us all! No, that’s not right… She’s just a regular girl, with no power to speak of! She’s delusional—says she’s lived for countless years—but she’s as human as the rest of us!” She gasped for breath, pausing, as though regretting her words, but that only lasted a moment. She turned her eyes to the mob. “You’ve been spouting drivel about how she’s blessed us with her power, about how she’s warding us from death—but she hasn’t done anything! I’ve seen it with my own two eyes: all she does is man the confessional, but she can’t do a damn thing about what plagues us!”
What are you saying? Why would you say those things about me?
She still heaved and sobbed as she spoke, as nervous as she had been in the closet, but her heart bled, steeping every word she spoke in shame and fury. “There isn’t a drop of divinity in your blood… and yet, the town credits you for all the good that’s happened. Is it fun, making a mockery of us nuns? Pretending like you can weave miracles out of thin air, that your blood is anything more than placebo? If helping the city were so easy as impersonating the Child of God and sleight of hand, what do you think us nuns spend our entire lives training for? I cannot forgive someone who disguises themselves as the Child of God in front of the city. Have you no shame?! Even here, now, as the mob threatens to tear us limb from limb—all you can do is lie sprawled on the floor and weep, weak and powerless!”
Stop. Stop. I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I messed up. I’m sorry. Please, stop. Please. Every word she spoke stabbed my heart as though nailing it to a cross.
Having said her piece, she dropped to her knees and began sobbing. The mob stirred, their target clear.
“She’s… not the Shepherd?”
“Of course not—she was sent here to… ruin the chapel, starting with the priestess! And to take the city with her!”
“She’s no deity, she’s a witch! A curse!”
“She deserves death.”
The bloodthirsty mob surrounded me. Tall, ragged men towered over me, overlapping me in shadow, their breathing haggard and their sweat dripping onto me. Stay away. Stay away! They looked at me with eyes cold and narrow and devoid of mercy.
I knew immediately that—there was no reasoning with such men, and that to fight back would get me killed. It was a deep, primal response instilled within me, and I knew better than to argue with instinct. So I sobbed, for there was nothing else I could do.
One of them swung their fist into the back of my head, slamming it back onto the floor. My vision blinked out and as the last of my consciousness faded away, I felt a sliver of gratitude. It would be a mercy to die here at the feet of someone as holy and righteous as you. I can only hope that you might look upon my corpse and remember it.