Connin
45th Day of Spring, 997th Year of Grace
The island of Paradise lingered in the corner of my eye--a silver pearl cradled by the blue velvet sky. It shone bright, its silhouette etched against the morning sun.
I pressed my forehead against the frosted glass of the window, and the sky-island almost seemed within reach.
But I knew it was far, far away from my grasp.
I praised the Lord for a beautiful day. I praised Him for the beautiful life He had blessed me with, and I praised Him for His guidance and love.
I glanced at Paradise--the Lord's divine kingdom--hanging on the firmament and admired it as I got dressed.
I muttered another prayer to the Lord and got out of the dormitory room, heading for the first lesson of the day.
***
Sunlight spilled from the eastern window--getting caught on the threads of my robe and dancing among my dark lashes.
My hair gleamed in the sunlight like the golden threads used to embroider the clothing of high-ranking officials and nobles.
The wind stirred the banners that hung on the pillars of the Lower Hall--the place where we practiced sorcery and learned how to cause miracles by conversing with the Law.
I remembered Sister Maeryn telling me once that my eyes were pale blue--like the bright sky on the summer morning I was found at the steps of the cathedral seventeen years ago.
I didn't remember anything from before I had been taken in by the Church. And no one knew how I had ended up on the steps of the cathedral that day.
The priests thought of me as a blessing sent by our Lord and raised me as one of their own.
And perhaps, I was a blessing.
Sorcery is the act of causing miracles by praying to the Lord and conversing with his divine Law. But the Law did not respond the same to each individual.
The more easily the Law responded to an individual's request, the more closer to the Lord one is--at least, that is what the Church believed.
And I had been able to converse with the Law ever since I could remember, and the Law responded to me more readily than most people.
That was not the end of it.
I also had dreams. Of the future, and the past. I received warnings of danger, and news of fortune from our Lord.
The Pope named me an Oracle for my gifts, and I had risen the ranks--standing at the rank of a bishop before I turned ten.
However, despite being a bishop, I still had to attend lessons on history, law and sorcery.
Today's lesson was on the fundamentals of evocative sorcery.
Our class was tasked with conversing with the Law and cause a miracle that manipulated a force of nature--like fire, water, wind--to be used in offense, defense or utility.
I observed fellow young acolytes summon fireballs or miniature rain clouds overhead. But I also saw many failing to accomplish anything.
We were taught from a young age that one had to be respectful and accepting of the Law. Only then would there be any chances of it answering to our plea.
But that didn't apply to me.
"Carry me," I whispered to the wind and it answered with gusts lifting me off the stone floor.
I floated in midair , a few inches from the hall's ceiling, my hair and robes dancing wildly in the gales.
I observed people staring at me with awe and envy in their eyes for a moment before I said, "Let go."
I plummeted towards the ground and many people gasped.
"Catch me," I said and a gust broke my fall right before my feet touched the earth.
Most people exhaled in relief while some clicked their tongue against the roof of their mouth.
I also heard footsteps so I looked up to find the priest in-charge of the lesson approaching.
"As expected of an Oracle, your grace." He bowed. "I had heard of you from others but it is my first time seeing your miracles myself."
I grabbed his shoulders and gently made him raise his head.
"You need not treat me differently from the other students, Father," I said, bowing. "I am also a student. Please address me as Connin going forward. Rank and standing do not matter here."
"Very well, Connin," the old priest said, his wrinkled face offering a smile.
I returned it.
The Law smiled too--for I felt it in the sudden cool breeze that entered through the windows, caressing my face and drying away the sweat beads on my forehead.
I did not care who my actual parents were, or why they abandoned me at the steps of the cathedral.
I knew that the Law loved me. And so did our Lord. And I would do anything to be worthy of their love.
Alexandra
46th Day of Spring, 997th Year of Grace
The journey to Belmire took around four days and we had to celebrate our birthday huddled together in the corner of a wagon, sobbing.
Or at least, I wept while Adam just held me close.
Belmire was a quaint city built on the side of a hill near the borders of the western and the southern province.
As we entered the city gates, the first thing that caught my attention was the magnificent castle sitting atop the hill in the distance--probably the Governor's estate.
The sun wasn't as harsh here as the south, and the people didn't stare as long.
The Church's influence wasn't strong in the area because the Governor didn't like outside forces meddling in his government. And since the land was bestowed to him by the Pope for his services in the war thirty years ago, others couldn't complain.
Of course, he still had to comply with the Church's creeds and also had to build one cathedral near the city square.
It was less troublesome for us because the number of Inquisitors and priests the rank of bishop or above could be counted on one hand.
I had heard stories about the time Pa spent here in his youth. I had even asked him why he decided to live in Orrinwick if Belmire was safer.
I recalled he said to me: "I couldn't choose anything but my hometown."
Perhaps... it was because of his selfishness that I had to suffer losing my parents. If only he had chosen to live at Belmire, me and Adam wouldn't be orphans. If only...
"We're almost there," Adam said.
I only nodded in response and we we kept walking through the streets, hand in hand.
***
In a run-down tailor shop with cracked windows and a bunch of clothes all over the place, we were seated on stools arranged by the shop counter.
A man stood behind the counter--bulky frame, stubbled face and a bald head. He had dark brown eyes and tan skin that spoke of his origins from the kingdom beyond the sea.
It was Mr. Taylor Bodkins, the old friend Pa told us to look for
"Darwin is dead?" Mr. Bodkins asked, his voice gruff and a hand massaging in-between his brows. "H-How?"
"The Inquisitors found out about us," Adam answered, fidgeting on the stool. "One of his patients probably reported us. I always told him not to use sorcery to treat--"
"That's not possible!" Mr. Bodkins slammed the counter, making me flinch. Realizing he had startled me, his brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly. "S-Sorry. I meant... Darwin was a sorcerer with mastery rivaling that of a bishop. How could he--"
"How will we know?!" Adam stood up, raising his voice. "There might have been someone of a higher rank among the Inquisitors. Or if there were more than one bishop among the Inquisitors, could he have handled them? While protecting our mother?"
I tugged at Adam's cloak and he took his seat again, still seething in anger.
"Pa said if we all escaped, the Church would chase us to the end of the world and we would then always be on the run. He said we would never be able to live in peace." My voice began to break. "H-He... They sacrificed t-themselves for our sake. So that w-we could live on in their stead. A-And I don't want to say that their sacrifice was w-wasted but I'm not worth someone's life. I-I'm not."
Tears stained my face already and the trembling returned.
My family was broken. My parents dead. Every moment ever since we left home, I prayed to the Lord--I prayed and prayed that it was all just a bad dream. I prayed that everything that had happened was just a nightmare.
I prayed that I would soon wake up and find myself in my room, with Adam sleeping on the floor. And that when I'd walk into the kitchen, I would see Ma and Pa again--going through their daily lives like everything was normal.
I imagined Ma's scream when the Inquisitors might have dragged her away. I imagined Pa getting beaten up when he might have resisted.
I couldn't say another word to Mr. Bodkins.
Adam wrapped an arm around me and I sunk into his chest, sobbing while he gently stroked my hair and patted my back.
"We need to get in touch with the True Faithful," Adam said. "Perhaps, they could help us with our predicament."
There was silence for a moment. Then Mr. Bodkins said, "I can help you get in touch with them. But it would take a few days. Do you have a place to stay meanwhile?"
"We were thinking of staying at an inn for the night but... we don't have enough coin for a few days' stay," Adam said. "We were hoping the True Faithful would provide us with temporary lodging and perhaps... work for me."
Mr. Bodkins didn't say a word for another moment. Then he said, "There's a room available above this shop. It's not that big but I think it could accommodate two people. You don'thave to pay, of course."
"Wait, we can't burden you like that--"
"Don't worry about burdening me, lad." He put a hand on my head--and perhaps Adam's too--the texture rough and calloused. "I'm just helping out my friend's kids in a pinch. And if you don't want the room for free, you can pay me rent after you find yourself some work."
Adam didn't argue any further.
Elijah
47th Day of Spring, 997th Year of Grace
The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains and splattered itself over the plush red carpet on the oak floor.
I rose from the bed, my limbs aching from the hassle I had suffered the previous night.
I turned and found her hair scattered all over the pillow and the bed beside me. Her face glowed with a slight smile pasted upon it.
I stared at her for a few moments, trying to scavenge for any spark of passion within my heart--remnant of the fire that had raged the previous night.
But all I felt was an insatiable void that gnawed beneath my ribs.
The hunger for her from the night before was gone--the desire drained.
Most men would've smiled at their lover sleeping beside them and brushed a kiss along their brow like some sentimental fool in a romantic tale.
I wasn't 'most men'. Nor a fool.
I got off the bed in silence and dressed with ease into a beige chemise and snug trousers.
The glass of water I poured for myself was lukewarm as it slid down my throat.
The spring breeze--already tainted by the warmth of approaching summer--rushed in through the windows and caressed my cheeks.
I had begun to approach the window when she stirred.
"You're up early," she purred and rolled over, the duvet slipping from her shoulders and revealing her ample breasts as she rose up on her knees.
The sunlight sneaking in from the window behind her painted her back, tracing every curve of her tan body like a portraitist in love.
The duvet clung desperately to her hips, as if reluctant to reveal more than it already had.
But the reluctance was wasted--I had already seen and tasted everything that she had to offer.
It was nauseating to even think about doing it again.
"Come back." She tugged at the sleeve of my chemise, a sleepy smile on her face.
I realized I couldn't differentiate her facial features--she looked like any other woman I knew.
She rose a bit more and leaned closer. I didn't move an inch.
Her lips brushed against my jaw--warm and wet--and I almost flinched at the touch. "Didn't you say yesterday that you wished to wake up beside me like this everyday? Are you happy now?"
Lie--it was a lie used to lower her guard.
Her kiss slowly travelled from my jaw to my lips, deepening with each passing moment.
I let it happen despite the bile rising from my stomach and the stickiness creeping under my skin.
I let it happen until the bile almost reached my mouth and I couldn't go on anymore.
And so I shoved her away from me, my lungs struggling to draw air.
I couldn't do it anymore.
"What's wrong?" she asked, the concern genuine on her face.
"I can't do this..." I blurted and her face paled.
"What do you mean?"
"I just can't..." I sighed, each breath a chore. "Please... just... leave me alone."
"What?" she asked. "What are you saying? What do you mean?"
"Just leave." I grabbed my forehead and the world spun around me, a sharp pain cleaving through my mind.
"W-What about our marriage? You said you love me. You said you will marry me once you convince your father about us!" Her voice sounded like a shriek that attacked my ears.
"I don't love you!" I yelled in response. "It's was all a lie. Now, leave me alone. Go away!"
She stared at me for a long moment--perhaps, still processing her situation.
She began screaming soon enough.
"You bastard! I-I'll expose you!"
Rage boiled within me and I turned to face her but... all was silent and she was gone.
There was no tracs of her-- I found none of her clothes I had strewn all over the room the previous night, and the bed appeared unmade only on my side.
Confusion filled my mind, followed by a sharp jolt of pain shooting through my head.
After a few moments, the pain was gone and the world stopped twisting and turning.
Did she leave? I thought. Or was it all a dream?
I tried hard to recall scenes of the previous night but it appeared as if shrouded in a dense haze within my mind.
I could feel a subtle ache in my limbs though I couldn't remember anymore what caused it.
A knock rattled the door of my room, bringing me back to reality, followed by a female voice. "My lord, it is time for breakfast. Your father expects you at the dinner table in ten minutes."
I wiped away the sweat that clung to my forehead and answered, "I will head there in a moment. You may return."
"As you wish," the female said and I heard her footsteps walking away until they faded into the distance.
I exchanged the trousers for a hose and put on a dark surcoat over the chemise.
I could already feel the void within me begin whispering--it wanted someone to fill it up and make it whole.
The void wanted me to hunt to satiate its hunger.
And I'd gladly do it.