“They’re cherry drops,” said Bishop Geist, indicating the little red candies in the ceramic bowl. “I know you like cherry drops.”
Eva knocked the whole bowl off the desk. It thudded loudly against the wall as candies scattered around the room.
“That was unnecessary,” said Bishop Geist, mildly.
“How dare you go behind my back to speak to her like that,” said Eva, pointing an accusatory finger. “You’re not supposed to interfere with her. You agreed that she wouldn’t have to directly deal with anyone from the upper levels of the church, especially not you.”
“And you agreed that she would remain useful to the church,” said Bishop Geist. “I’m sure you can understand why her actions in recent days might be considered a threat to that.”
“I’ve got it under control,” said Eva.
“Do you?” asked the Bishop, standing up from her desk and going to pick up the tossed bowl. Miraculously it had remained in one piece. “You know, sometimes when a sheltered young thing from the country finds herself in the big city, she can end up finding herself in the big city. Do you catch my meaning?”
Eva just glared at her.
“That sort of personal journey can be a beautiful thing,” said Bishop Geist. “It can also be a dangerous thing, if left unchecked.”
“I’m telling you, it’s still manageable. I can still manage it.” said Eva. She waved the paper with the schedule on it. “But this is completely unreasonable. She’s used to performing one or two church duties a day back in Longren. She can’t keep up with all this.”
Bishop Geist clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Sister Eva, I think you’ve forgotten something important. The church doesn’t exist to serve the Saintess. The Saintess exists to serve the church.”
“But still—”
Bishop Geist suddenly raised her hands and smashed the bowl against the edge of the desk, loudly shattering it. After a moment of silence, the Bishop smiled again. “Don’t think you’re the only one who’s capable of making petty threats,” she said, dropping the shattered pieces of the bowl that remained in her hands. “I’ve been rather indulgent with you and your Saintess over the years, but let us be clear—I still hold all the cards. Or would you like me to have a longer conversation with our little Anne? I’m sure there are a few things she’d be interest to learn… about herself, and about you.”
Eva gritted her teeth and squeezed her hands into fists, but she choked out a, “No, please.”
The Bishop clapped her hands happily. “Great! So you’ll manage to keep up with the schedule somehow?”
“…Yes,” said Eva. “We’ll manage.”
“Wonderful! Then you and the Saintess can continue to enjoy your freedom, and the Saintess doesn’t need to know anything about a certain… strangeness in her ‘miracles,’ hmm?”
Eva didn’t respond.
“Don’t fret so, sister,” said Bishop Geist, placing a comforting hand on Eva’s shoulder. “No one is forcing you to bare this burden alone. As long as you stay on the right path, the church will be there to make things easier for you both. And, of course, you know I'm always here for you, if you ever need to talk, or vent your anger. You know I don't mind.”
Eva was biting her thumbnail and turning her head away.
The Bishop wasn’t an even remotely trustworthy person, which Eva knew better than anyone. But also, when it came to certain topics, the Bishop was the only person Eva could safely turn to.
“Is there…” Eva began. “Has there ever been any record of a Saintess receiving prophecies? Visions? Directly from the Goddess?”
The Bishop sat back down in her chair. “Is this about Anne’s recent creative assertions about the will of the Goddess?”
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Eva gave the Bishop a pleading look.
Bishop Geist sighed. “There’s no need to worry on that front, as long as you don’t let it go too far. Every Saintess has provided a… unique insight into the doctrine’s of the church. That’s more or less expected, as long as it stays within the realm of interpretation. As for prophecy… I’d recommend against making that sort of claim. Every Saintess has performed miracles, but only the first Saintess received direct revelation from the Goddess, and she was said to have divine blood.”
Eva nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you, Bishop.”
“If you’d like to check the ancient records yourself, you’re welcome to,” Bishop Geist smiled wryly. “After all, you know very well where to find them.”
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Anne was doing her best writing out the original plot of The Foundling’s Wings. She was trying to focus especially on what led up to certain events, and which characters died when. For a fantasy romance novel, The Foundling’s Wings had a surprisingly high body count.
The King of the elves, as well as the first two elf princes, Zaos and Elyon, died in the razing of the Sacred Forest. Only Agis and the small remnants of the elven army that were outside of the forest at the time survived.
Prince Sebastian’s death kicked off the shadow war in the capitol, but many others also died during it, including the Quellinian ambassador and many of Corvina's allies among the nobility. They were all pretty minor characters, so Anne couldn’t remember any of their names…
Then, of course, there was the Battle of Quellinia River. Many of those who had survived the previous two events were conscripted into the army and forced to fight, and so many people died. One of the most notable deaths during this event was actually the same assassin who had killed Prince Sebastian, a mysterious figure known only as The Unseen Rain.
And finally there was the uprising, when the rebellion finally took over the palace, supported by survivors of the first three events. The Emperor, Agis, and Corvina all died during the uprising. Even Corvina’s maid, Helen, had died trying to protect her lady when the rebel army had stormed her estate.
At the point where Anne had stopped reading the book, the only survivors from the main cast were the original Saintess, Duke Marshal, and Eva.
Of course, at that point, Anne had been hit by a truck and died and been reborn. Which meant that she didn’t actually know what happened in the original novel after that point. She’d never finished the book. There had been at least a few chapters left. But it seemed like it was probably leading towards a happy ending, at least for the Saintess and the Duke. After all, it was a fantasy romance novel. The main couple had to end up happy, right?
At some point, while Anne scribbled something out and started rewriting again, trying to lay out all the information she had in a way that would be useful, Anne nodded off.
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In her dream, Anne saw a young Eva, maybe in her preteens, reading books in a dark room by candlelight. It was some sort of storage room, cluttered and dusty. Eva’s eyes looked wild and excited as she devoured whatever was in the book she was reading.
Then the Bishop, looking maybe 10 years younger than when Anne had seen her, approached from behind, placing a hand on Eva’s shoulder.
“You know this place is off limits, child,” said the Bishop.
Anne’s point of view shifted, so that she was just outside of the room. There, she saw the young Saintess, in a night dress, looking frightened as she peered into the room at Eva and the The Bishop. Neither of them seemed to notice her presence.
Then the young Saintess turned to look at Anne. “They thought I didn’t know what they were doing,” she said.
Then the dream shifted again. Anne was in a dense forest. The light filtering through the trees had a distinct green tint. The air felt heavy.
And the Saintess was there, an adult now, looking haggard. Her dress was torn, her hair hung wildly around her, and her eyes had dark circles under them. She was barefoot, and she was hugging herself for warmth, but she was walking with determination. Her eyes were focused on something specific. She had a goal.
Anne followed her gaze and saw what looked like the moss-covered stone ruins of an ancient building, maybe a palace or a cathedral.
As the Saintess passed by where Anne was standing, she turned to look at Anne again, and she spoke, “They thought I didn’t know who I was.”
A bright light began to shine from the ruins, growing brighter and brighter, until it engulfed everything, and Anne couldn’t see anything anymore.
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Eva gently shook Anne awake. “Saintess, Saintess,” she whispered.
“Yes?” said Anne, blinking against the candlelight.
“Let’s get you to bed,” said Eva gently. “You shouldn’t sleep here.”
“I finished writing the prophecy,” said Anne, blearily gesturing to the papers. “At least I think I finished.”
“Good, good,” said Eva. “I’ll look it over later, I promise.”
Eva helped Anne over to the bed, and Anne collapsed down into it. Eva watched her settle into the blankets. Reaching over, she softly brushed a hand across Anne's cheek. “I’m sorry,” said Eva, quietly. “Things are going to be a little difficult for a while. I couldn’t… I couldn’t get them to cut down on your schedule, but I’m going to be there for you through all of it. So please don’t be too stressed. I’ll get us through this.”
Anne mumbled an acknowledgment. “I’m sure it’ll be fine with you there,” she said, hugging her pillow closer to her.
“Just get some rest for now,” said Eva. “You’re going to need it. And Saintess?”
“Hmm?” said Anne, whose eyes were already closed.
“Please don’t tell anyone else about the prophecy,” said Eva. “This is important. No one else can know. No one that you haven’t already told.”
“Okay,” said Anne. “I won’t tell anyone else.”
Eva smiled briefly. “Goodnight, Anne,” she said, softly.
Eva took the written prophecy with her when she left.