Rise of Winter, Week 4, Day 4

“Are you ready?” Bridian asked softly, gripping Freddie’s hand in a comforting gesture.

They were at the main church of Hernel, already having passed through the winding streets of the city, navigating around the towers that were nearly as tall as the sky itself. As the black carriage with white metallic accents made its way through the city, people had stopped to stare. Freddie was eyeing a family waving at the carriage, her hand raised to wave back when she turned to her father.

“As I’ll ever be,” Freddie said, smiling at her father to give him the reassurance he clearly needed.

Freddie herself didn’t care much one way or another how her Affirmation went —mostly due to the fact that she could see her Divinity was positive. Thus, was spared the usual anxiety that went along with an Affirmation. That fact had eased most of her parents’ nerves as well, but some fear still remained in her father.

“Stop needling her, dear. You’re stressing yourself out,” Freddie’s mother said, poking Bridian in the shoulder —after which she began gathering the fabric of her dress and standing. “Now, it is time to go.”

“Yes, mother,” Freddie laughed, waiting for both of her parents to leave the carriage.

It was as Bridian stepped out and looked back at her that Freddie took a deep breath, steadying herself. Then she stood, taking her father’s hand and descending into the controlled chaos around her.

There were crowds on either side of the carriage, filled with people of all ages watching from behind a black velvet rope. Ahead of Freddie and her parents was the Duke, decked all out in a sleek black suit with silver and white accents, including several medals. Bridian was in a similar, if less decorated, outfit, and Aster was in a black dress that had embroidered silver stars across the seams. Freddie was the only one in color, and it made warmth spread through her stomach.

They didn’t force me to fall in line—they didn’t even bring up that there was a line.

Past the Nemos, there were the Knights of the Void lining the way to the steps of the church. However, as soon as the stairs began, the path became lined with priests and priestesses dressed in all different shades of the rainbow. Each had body chains wrapped around their robes, denoting them as servants of the Divine. Some had circlets adorning their heads, others shackles around their wrists, some body chains were dainty and form-fitting, others large and loose.

The Duke held out his arm for Freddie to take, and so she stepped away from her parents and took the lead with her grandfather to approach the towering church.

The building itself was a block wide and several stories tall. It was made of a brilliant white stone that was polished so thoroughly it shone in the mid-morning light. At the face of the building, there were several columns that had been carved to be members of the Divine reaching up to support the edge of the roof. As Freddie ascended the stairs, she caught sight of a woman in pale yellow robes and golden chains.

A priestess of Frill.

Freddie met her gaze and nodded.

The woman smiled back gently before her eyes flashed white for a millisecond, and her grin widened.

Freddie was already moving on, though, and did not see it.

The further up the steps the family walked, the quieter the crowd became until, finally, they were at the entryway of the church —where a man in all grey met them. His robes were tapered at the edges, clinging to his wrists, ankles, and waist, but flowed freely at his elbows, knees, and chest. Chains of silver and gold circled the man, weighing down his clothes.

Freddie had already felt it, but suddenly, the man’s aura became overwhelming with proximity. It was a struggle for her to remain upright, but the Duke remained steadfast and supportive next to her. His aura pulled forward thoughts of lies being pierced by arrows and truths being held up in righteous flames. It was an interesting sensation, and so Freddie pushed her own aura out.

[Bright as a Flickering Flame]

The effect of Freddie’s Skill was nothing compared to the priest’s. But the Skill was not squashed. Instead, the severe look of the man softened partially. As Freddie looked closer at him, it almost seemed as if his mouth had twitched in amusement.

Pausing for a beat, she squeezed the Duke’s arm and looked up at him. He was smiling down at her fondly, giving her a short nod. Freddie’s gaze was unwavering, and she straightened her back as she unwrapped her arm from her grandfather’s.

Showtime, baby, Freddie laughed in her head.

Turning back to the priest before her, she stepped forward.

Bowing her head, she began the performance of her life.

“The Awakened meets the Master of Day. May Her heart shine on the Truth of my Sleep.”

This time, the man did smile, bowing slightly back, “In Her stead, I, Horace the Veritous, High Priest of Abelia, Lady of High Noon, Goddess of Truth, meet the newest Light in the Void.”

Freddie’s eyes sharpened as the man began to glow was a pale silver light, but her voice remained strong as she spoke, determination to not be intimidated filling her, “I hereby invoke the rites of Affirmation.”

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Power filled Freddie’s voice and flowed into the air before the church, and behind her came a rhythmic beating as priests began hitting their chests with their fists and stepping forward to close the gap that the Nemos had used to approach the church.

“Enter, Light of the Void,” Father Horace’s voice was no longer masculine. Instead, it was overlaid with the light voice of a woman, “And may your Truth be Attested to.”

“May my Divinity be True as is my birthright,” Freddie spoke the ritualistic response, ignoring the oppressive feeling of Divine energy.

It was so unlike in the in-between when Frill had held her so gently, guiding her into a new world. This Divinity was sharp, searching, waiting for Freddie to make a misstep. Father Horace took Freddie’s arm into his own, turning them to face the inside of the church.

The room they faced was filled with fancily dressed men, women, and children, all staring at Freddie and Father Horace as they walked up between the pews and toward the pulpit. As they walked towards the stage Freddie could see that rather than a chorus, or seats, there were twelve statues decorating the stage at the front of the room.

She recognized each statue on sight. Marasha would be proud. Beginning at the far left, there were two statues, Frill, the Goddess of Compassion, with her hands wrapping a bandage around Morloch’s ever-bleeding wounds. Morloch, the God of Sacrifice and Self-Improvement, was sat cross-legged, a cowl covering his head. Then came Greta, the Goddess of Patience, wielding her battle axe, and Abelia, the Goddess of Truth, holding her hands over her own eyes to block out the untruths of the world. Next came Zanth, the God of Music, wielding his lyre and staring at Nivienne, the Goddess of Art, lovingly. Nivienne was in the process of sculpting her own body. The next three Gods were huddled together, there was Tritanne, the Goddess of Herbalism, holding a fern out to Jino, the God of Alchemy, and Kroston, the God of Nature. Finally came the ancients, separated from the other nine. Oberon, petrified in eternal pain, Maeve, his mother, wailing for her loss, and Kite, the God who formed the mountains to protect the suffering Oberon.

In front of the statues was a lower platform a half step up to the figures. It was wide enough for a lectern to go on it during Seventh Day’s sermon, but as Freddie looked on all she saw was a bowl of water and a dust-colored rug that Father Horace led her to.

Turning his head to Freddie, he spoke in that two-toned voice once more.

“Kneel and Pray. For your Truth must be Affirmed.”

Freddie nodded and untangled her arm from Father Horace’s. The man stepped back, and Freddie surveyed the statues briefly before kneeling down on the rug. It was soft, and her knees sunk into it. A wry grin spread across her face as she clasped her hands together.

She wondered, then, what it would mean to pray to Frill. To the Goddess that had saved her soul. Would she appear? Frill had sent that notice, had said that she would come if Freddie called—but she should only call in dire need. That implied she would only appear once. That if Freddie wasted her shot so early, she may never get another. So she ran back to what Marasha had taught her. She ran through the names of dozens of Gods and Goddesses and even more general Domains whose Gods she didn’t know of. She thought of what mattered to her.

Power.

Freedom,

Fire.

Family.

The first three were normal. They were goals she’d had in elsewhere. Goals that Kalina had never achieved. But the final one. Family. That was new. It was fresh. It felt right. She didn’t just want the power to be free. No. She wanted the power to protect her family. Maybe it was old Freddie talking. Maybe it was a ghost enacting its final will. But that wasn’t quite right. Because Freddie didn’t truly feel like the old Freddie was anything but her.

Freddie felt warmth from the Nemos, not because of a ghost. But because they were there. No matter what Freddie chose, they stayed beside her. Even then, during her Affirmation, her parents and grandfather were waiting just inside the door —watching with the same loving eyes they’d always had.

Even when her dreams had had her cling to danger. When she had been poisoned. Injured. Thrown herself into training. Had demanded entry into a dungeon. There was so little pushback —not out of recklessness but out of respect.

What is my Truth? Freddie wondered, and then a wicked grin spread across her face. That’s easy.

Freddie clenched her hands together further, using the entirety of her strength.

I pray to be Affirmed, not for me or for my family line to be Blessed.

I pray to be Affirmed, not because the Queen requires it.

I pray to be Affirmed, not because the Divine wish it.

I pray to be Affirmed because it will bring a smile to my grandfather’s face.

I pray to be Affirmed because it will ease my father’s worries.

I pray to be Affirmed because my mother worked hard planning a party just for the occasion.

Freddie laughed manically, and several people startled.

Father Horace peered down at Freddie, staring viciously at the statues before her. No, staring above the statues —where there was an empty alcove in the wall with a blank statue without any defining features.

As she prayed, the statue shifted and turned, taking a new pose, one reaching down to Freddie, arms outstretched. Then clothes began to sprout: a long flowing dress with an apron. Next came a pulled-back ponytail and soft facial features.

Then a vibrant red light appeared before the statue —no, the icon. A rip in reality tore through the church. Freddie could feel the air still, she could feel the pews and the people seated in them fall away, and suddenly she was no longer in the church at all.

“Welcome,” said a soothing voice, “To my Domain.”

Freddie looked at the only consistent thing in the swirling red light —the rip in reality.

As she watched, a woman manifested. Thrice as tall as any statue in the church, she stepped from the tear and shrank with the shift of her hips.

“Do you know my name?” She asked.

Freddie’s wild grin hadn’t faded. It’d only grown wider. Only grown more insane.

“I do.” She said.

Then she stood, looking up at the Divine being before her.

“I called you, after all. You are Minare.”