by Cory Huff
Nia started as someone touched her arm. It was one of the other three priests, her name escaping Nia. “Are you ok?”
Nia looked around. Nearly everyone had filed outside into the courtyard. Nia realized that she had been sitting, staring ahead with a blank look on her face. “Yes,” said Nia. “I…” Nia was lost for words. She wasn’t sure what had happened to her. “How did these priests know that they were supposed to become priests?” she asked.
The priestess smiled. D’arcy was her name, Nia remembered. “You would have to ask each of them about their individual stories, but for many of us, we have developed our own relationship with the Creator. We have learned to listen in prayer and receive His guidance. For some of those who have learned to listen, the priesthood is the next logical step.”
“Are there other gods besides the Creator?” Nia blurted out, immediately wishing she hadn’t said anything at all.
D’arcy smiled briefly, “there are many gods in the world Nia, called by many names. We believe that they are all facets of the Divine. Why do you ask?”
“My…mother kept a shrine to Gaoth in our home when I was a girl.”
“Oh, yes, the spirit of wind, yes? Your mother probably invoked Gaoth as a protector and an agent of learning? Not many folks use that name any more. I heard your mother is passed on, is that correct?”
Nia suddenly went quiet and still, but nodded once, sharply. She was sweating. She didn’t want to talk about her mother’s death with this woman. “Thanks for answering my question. Let’s go watch the ceremony.” Nia pushed past D’arcy and hurried outside. Nia intended to just disappear into the crowd and then make her way out of the church grounds, but she was stopped by the voice of Abban. Stripped of his frock and standing bare-chested in the waist deep water, gripping Adare, who was also stripped down, by the wrist, Abban was speaking. “Adare con Daeg, in the name of the Creator, I baptize you that you may be reborn.” Abban pushed Adare down into the water, immersing him and bringing him back up out of the water. As Adare emerged, Nia felt electricity dance along her spine. She felt a desire to make a covenant like that. To belong to something. To make a commitment. To make a public declaration of her intention to help others. She had vowed to Uisce that she would do so if she survived the wolf attack. She would keep her word. She would make a vow. A binding one.
But it would not be to the Creator.
Nia turned and walked out of the temple grounds, back to the woods.
“And Thomas carried buckets of water to the women’s baths for a week. He left them at the door and knocked and waited. Every day for a week.”
Sophronia laughed, a sparkling, enchanting laugh. Thomas was thrilled by it even as he was embarrassed by Emaile’s story. He could feel his face flushing.
They were standing on the street in Western Atania, near Sophronia’s home. There were small, crumbling homes up and down this street, including a neighborhood pub just a few doors up. Like most of Atania, the houses were made of stone. Most of the roofs were made of thatch. They were standing just outside the rubble of an old building that had once been quite large. One wall went up for ten stories or more, but the rest of the. Building was essentially missing, stones and other rubble carted away for other uses years ago.
Dressed in their full armor and weaponry, Thomas and Emaile were there to patrol and reassure the people that the Church was aware of what had happened to Sophronia’s brother. The church was committed to keeping the people safe.
Thomas coughed when he caught Sophronia’s eye. She had such a penetrating gaze, it made him uneasy in the best way. He was never sure where he stood with her. Maybe because he wasn’t sure where he wanted to stand with her. Thomas was a Squire and he was dedicated to becoming a church knight. There was no vow of chastity, but he didn’t want to lose focus. Sophronia, in the few days since he’d met her in that graveyard and carried that poor woman into the church, had become a serious distraction to that focus. But it was the kind of distraction that made him feel good.
He started and coughed again when he realized that he was still holding her gaze. She didn’t look away.
“Why don’t you two just get a room?” Emaile said, a note of humor in her voice.
Thomas grew deeply embarrassed and studied the ground. It was awkward for a moment.
“I’m game if he is,” said Sophronia. Surprised, Thomas jerked his head up and saw the two women grinning at each other. They turned and looked at him, Sophronia crooking an eyebrow. Thomas’ mouth dried up and he stammered, “uh…”
The women broke up into peals of laughter. People walking by on the street looked to see what was happening and Thomas blushed even deeper. They were making fun of him. He straightened his back, putting his left hand on the hilt of his sword, nodding to them. “Ladies, my shift is over. I’ll see you again tomorrow.” Using his best marching technique, Thomas pivoted on his heel and beat a strategic retreat.
“Oh, Thomas, don’t be offended,” said Emaile. “I’m just jealous.” She laughed.
Thomas walked faster and more stiff, if possible.
Emaile turned to Sophronia. “We might have taken that a bit too far. I think he really likes you. He just needs some time to realize it.”
“Oh, I know he does. I see that look in the pubs, “ said Sophronia.
“Then why would you tease him like that?”
“I want to see what he’s made of,” replied Sophronia. “I’ve been singing in pubs since I was a child. I get a lot of admirers who never say anything, they just follow me around, making it awkward, just like Thomas was doing. I find its best if I scare them off right away. Otherwise it gets weird. He’ll either stop coming around, or he’ll make a move. Either way, I don’t have to waste my time worrying about what he’s thinking.”
Emaile’s jaw just hung open. She’d never heard a woman be so calculating about a man’s interest.
“You’re shocked, but you don’t have these kinds of interactions daily,” said Sophronia.
“Thomas is a good man, perhaps one of the better Squires. He’s incredibly focused. I’ve never seen him show interest in a woman, he’s that focused. He doesn’t secretly go drinking and whoring with the other Squires. He’s dedicated. He would make a great husband.” Emaile grew a little bit heated.
Sophronia rolled her eyes. “Husband? He can barely talk to me. I don’t need a man like that as my husband. I want a man who will speak plainly, who will say what he wants, and who won’t be tongue-tied around me.”
Emaile paused for a moment and considered. She liked Sophronia. She was fun, vivacious, and a little bit mean. Patrolling the streets of Western Atania with her had been full of laughter. Getting to know the people of the neighborhood made her realize that this is where she wanted to be stationed after she became a Knight. She wasn’t sure Sophronia knew what her beauty did to men. Or perhaps she knew exactly what it did and used it to manipulate. Either way, this was a dangerous woman. She’d had enough for the day. “I need to catch up to Thomas. We’re supposed to report back together. He’s probably waiting for me to catch up because he knows that he can’t report back alone.” Emaile gave a salute similar to Thomas’ and turned and strode off, if not with quite the same rigidity.
Sophronia watched her go and shook her head. Nobody understood what it was like to be her. Men followed her around. The ones who couldn’t say what they wanted sometimes became dangerous. They tried to take what they were too afraid ask for. That’s why Sophronia had learned to defend herself. That’s why she had delved deep into the parts of Atania that she was sure that others didn’t know about. But she couldn’t deny that Thomas’ quiet, competent, kind manner with the people of Western Atania had impressed her. And despite her usual affection for outspoken men, she had to admit that there had been some truth to her quip about being game if Thomas was. He was cute. And very strong.
“Emaile, wait. I’ll go with you and talk to him.”
The two women walked quickly and caught up wi
th Thomas just as he was turning onto the main road, heading East towards the temple grounds. The main road was less busy. It was late in the day, not dark yet, but people were heading home after their trips to the market stalls. They were far enough South that the other side of the road was a wall of trees and greenery.
The greenery shook and a man stumbled out. Tall, thin, and wiry, with a shock of blonde hair. He looked disoriented, and maybe on the edge of panic. He was covered in dirt. He looked like he'd been rolling in it. His eyes were black and blue. He was in terrible shape. He was breathing heavy as he stumbled onto the road, and he sagged to his knees when he made eye contact with Thomas. “Help me,” he breathed, barely audible from across the road.
Thomas darted across the empty road and squatted down next to the man. The women followed closely. “What’s wrong?” Asked Thomas.
The man looked at Thomas and his lip quivered. “They’re all dead.”
“Who’s dead? What’s your name?”
“Liam. My name is Liam. They’re all dead. Aaron. His brothers. It was …” he trailed off, with a look of horror. “What day is it?”
Thomas noticed the women. He looked at them, nodded, and turned back to Liam. “It’s Thursday. Who is Aaron? Are you sure he’s dead? What happened?” Thomas pulled a water flask from his pack and handed it to Liam, who absently brought it to his lips while staring into the distance. After taking a drink, he seemed to revive a bit.
“They were on us so suddenly. Aaron died almost immediately. It was horrible. The worst thing I’ve ever seen, and I butcher animals for their hide.”
Thomas put his hand on Liam’s shoulder, who started and seemed to come out of daze and realize that there were people there. Thomas asked, in a strong, authoritative voice, “Who murdered your friends?”
“Not who. What.” Liam responded. He stood up. “Creatures. With fangs. Like the stories. Childhood fables. Monsters.” Liam seemed to grow in strength with another swallow of water. His eyes grew intense as he seemed to take in Thomas, Emaile, and Sophronia, seeing their weapons. “Nobody deserves to die like that. We have to go back and see if anyone else survived.”
Thomas shook his head. “If armed … creatures… murdered your friends, they might still be there. How many were there?”
“I don’t know, a dozen?” Said Liam. “But they ran away when…”
Liam stopped himself short.
“When…” and he trailed off.
“They’re gone.” Liam said firmly, changing tactics.
Thomas spoke, “Emaile, head back to the church and get a priest, and maybe a couple more Knights. We will go into the woods with Liam and see if there are any survivors. We might need backup. Sophronia, will you come with us and look for survivors?”
Emaile stood up, nodding. “I’ll be back in an hour. Leave us a trail marker.”
After hesitating a moment, considering, Sophronia nodded as well. “Yeah, let’s do this.” She was sure they were far enough away from her secret place that they wouldn’t go near it. And this might make a good story. And perhaps she could make up with Thomas. That might be fun.
Nia walked through the green woods she knew so well. She paid special attention to the noises. The red and blue birds were chirping. Animals skittered through the underbrush. That meant there were no predators nearby.
No wolves.
She took a deep breath when she realized that she had stopped walking, standing frozen like prey. She had stayed in the woods for years and had never been attacked. She willed herself to walk deeper into the woods, towards the pond and that strange closed off area, surrounded by thick shrubbery.
She shuddered when she came walked past her lean-to. It was just as she’d left it. Collapsed and dragged as she had made her desperate escape from the wolf. Her arm ached and she again took a deep breath, willing her life force down into her arm; willing healing into her arm.
As she approached the grove, she thought she’d have to crawl through the thorns and branches again. But then she wondered if she could go around it. One end of the enclosure had been open towards the pond. Sure enough, as she came to the end of the overgrown hedgerow, she was able to peer around and see the opening. Her sandals got wet as she waded through the shallow water and into the tiny enclosure.
The altar was still there. She walked over to it. The hashmarks were still there, stained with her blood.
Nia was overwhelmed as memories of that night hit her hard. Her body’s fight or flight response kicked in, and she stepped back. She was definitely not nervously looking around to reassure herself that the wolves were gone. Just being cautious, that’s all.
Reassured that she was alone, she stepped forward to the altar again. Something had happened that night in the enclosure. It felt like what the priests talked about - a presence. Something had answered her desperate plea in her time of need. She had called on her mother’s faith. She had invoked the spirits that her mother believed in - the old spirits that people had believed in for a long time before the Church of the Creator had appeared in Atania.
Nia’s mother had always left out gifts for the spirits, telling Nia that the Spirits were ever-present in the world, watching and observing. That they could be kind and benevolent to those who left them gifts, mischievous and malcontent at other times. And when angered, the Spirits could be terrible and malevolent. Mother had left gifts to keep them happy, and to show gratitude for all of the little ways that the Spirits made sure that the chickens laid eggs, the foxes were kept away, and the milk never spoiled.
Even after the Church had come along, and so many of the neighbors had converted and abandoned the old ways, mother had refused to go to church and refused to change. She had warned the neighbors that forgetting the spirits would have consequences.
Memories of her mother floated to the surface. Memories of Mother kissing her good night, burning sage, feeding her scrambled eggs and saying a blessing over their meal, thanking the Spirits for the bounty, milking a cow while singing a soothing song, of slaughtering a goat and invoking the spirits in gratitude, of weaving a rope while teaching Nia about the different domains of the spirits.
Talamh was the hearth Spirit. He was steady and he made the home secure. He made food grow and provided light and warmth. He was quick to burn your house, but just as quick to defend your home from invaders.
Gaoth watched over the winds, weather, clouds, and was responsible for making people angry and hasty. She could spark fires, blow ships off course, and knock down homes, but was also the force behind righteous fury and people defending their homes.
Uisce was the Spirit who made the wells full. She was changeable as the sea, but was the Spirit who most loved humans. She watered the crops when happy, and destroyed with floods when angered.
Tine was the darkest spirit. He held up the world and the houses. He was the most difficult to anger, but when aroused, he laid waste to the world by shaking it. He was the one Spirit that Mother rarely mentioned.
Nia knew that her mother was a dedicated believer. She had kept herbs and given gifts. She had songs and little gestures. But she didn’t know how that translated into the kind of intentional, militant faith that the Church Knights had. It was a different type of faith. It was more flexible and subtle. More natural.
But Nia still felt like she needed to show her gratitude and dedicate herself to something. She needed something to believe in and to dedicate herself.
Acting on instinct, she turned to the thorny branches and snapped one off. She squeezed the branch in her hand, thorns puncturing her skin. She kept her face from wincing and she squeezed harder, pushing the thorns in deeper. She held up her hand and watched as blood began to seep between her fingers and down her wrist and forearm.
She opened her hand, working the thorns out of her skin. She dropped the branch to the ground and put her hand, palm down, over the scratches and marks on the altar. She smeared the blood all over the dried blood.
Nothing happened. Wasn�
�t something supposed to happen? Perhaps she needed to be more explicit. She cleared her throat.
“Talamh. Gaoth. Suice. Tine. I don’t know you, but my mother taught me about you. She knew and revered you. I believe that something saved me here. I hear the words that the winds bring me, and I believe those words are from you. I want to know you and revere you like my mother did. If you are there, will you show yourselves to me and help me do as she did?”
As she spoke the words, the wind died down. The birds stopped chirping. Even the pond stood still. The air became close and heavy. The entire world seemed to be listening to this sincere, if clumsy plea.
There was no noise. No flash of light or vision as the Knights described. But Nia knew that the Spirits were there, watching her and approving of her. She knew that they would show her what to do. She knew that something profound and shifted and changed within her, and it seemed right and completely natural.
Nia went to the pond, washed her hand and sat down. She pondered quietly what had happened. Her life was about to take a very different direction. She felt calm. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the light on her skin, the gentle breeze that started again, and the faint lapping of the water against the cool, dark earth that she had dug her feet into.
Nia felt connected.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Death
Thomas tried to lead Sophronia into the woods. He could see pretty clearly where Liam had emerged from. Liam had pushed his way through the greenery, breaking tree limbs, leaving foot prints.
Liam pushed forward, stumbling but insisting on being out front. He’s getting in the way, thought Thomas. Liam stumbled forward, muttering about his dead friends and the monsters that he thought he saw. He had obviously seen something horrific. Thomas remembered that the Knights taught Squires that battle did strange things to a person’s mind.
Sophronia kept trying to help Liam. Catching him when he stumbled, only to be pushed off as Liam continued to strive forward. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered. “We’re going to get killed. Those things are going to kill us.”