by Viola Rivard
Selia was the first to say goodnight. Eloisa repeated the phrase, but doubted she’d be able to sleep.
Eloisa remained awake long after Selia’s breaths became slow and even. She tried several times to close her eyes, but she could only stand the darkness for so long. Though she reminded herself that she didn’t fear the dark, she couldn’t resist lifting her hand to the shaft of moonlight and holding it up until her arm began to ache.
She considered lighting the lamp at her bedside, but knew that it would be a horrible waste. Grace day, when they received their weekly rations, was still three days out and if she fell asleep with the lamp oil burning, there would be nothing to light their room with for the next two nights, two nights in which she would need to write her assessments and her counter-truth.
I wish I were a man.
It was a blasphemous thought in its own right, but in Eloisa’s mind it was a mere stepping stone to more sinful thoughts.
A dragonkind male would have no trouble seeing in the darkness. Unlike in humans, where males and females were nearly identical save for their sex organs and a few superficial differences, the dragonkind sexes were as different as light and darkness.
As a girl, Eloisa had been taught that males were superior in almost every way, and nothing she’d witnessed had refuted this. Males were larger, stronger, and incapable of contracting sickness. Their bodies could not be scarred and the stronger among them could even regenerate limbs.
And of course, most obvious of all, they could phase.
Female dragonkind shared only a few traits with their male counterparts. They were long-lived—functionally immortal if their bloodline was pure enough. They also had heightened senses of smell, hearing, and vision, though their keen eyesight couldn’t pierce the veil of night as a man’s could. Their healing was superior to a human’s, but with a little creativity, it was easy enough to scar, blind, or otherwise permanently maim them.
And of course, most obvious of all, they could not phase.
As a girl, it made perfect sense to Eloisa that males were superior because males were the only ones who could harness the magic that allowed them to phase into their dragon forms. Throughout the decade of her youth, she’d seen her father, his knights, and even her baby brother phase into dragons and seeing it had never ceased to take her breath away. She had felt humble before the great and powerful beasts, and had believed as she was taught, both by society and by her mother, that she was to keep her head down and her words soft. The world belonged to the dragonkind men, as did their females.
The only advantage females had over males was their aurasight, though men had worked hard to eradicate the ability over the centuries. It was the first truth she’d learned in the tower, and Eloisa still wasn’t sure if she’d fully internalized it. Surely, if she had, she wouldn’t find herself so often preoccupied with thoughts of men. Of holding their roughened hands, of touching their hot skin, and of kissing their lips.
As her thoughts drifted, Eloisa ran her fingers over her lips. It was something she did often on the nights when she couldn’t sleep. She had never kissed anyone on the lips, not even Selia. She sometimes heard of Daughters exchanging kisses, some just to see what it was like, others as a prelude to outright fornication. Eloisa had never held such interests and if Selia did, she kept them to herself.
Sometime towards the early morning, sleep began to wrap its tendrils around her. Eloisa fought against it, knowing that she’d be more tired for having a short rest than none at all. She lost the battle briefly, slipping back into the darkness of her mind where she awaited her dreams.
They never came.
Something roused her back to waking. She knew she hadn’t been asleep long, because the room was still dark. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, and then strained to look around for the source of her disturbance. Across the room, she could just make out Selia’s shadowed frame, still resting on her bed.
It was not in the room, but outside of it, Eloisa soon realized. She heard the sound of footsteps approaching fast. Stretching out her senses, she recognized Sister Verity only seconds before she appeared, holding a lantern in one hand and clutching her chest with another.
Sister Verity was wearing her nightclothes.
It was the first thing Eloisa’s mind registered, but was followed quickly by surprise as the Sister didn’t shuffle past the room, but stopped at the doorway and peered both ways down the hall before stepping inside. She lifted a finger to her lips as she regarded Eloisa, and Eloisa could see that a fine sweat had broken out across her face.
“Be silent,” Sister Verity whispered. “You must come with me at once.”
Eloisa’s head was still muddled with her broken sleep, and she climbed from the bed, not entirely sure that she wasn’t dreaming. When she went to grab her Lightlace, Sister Verity smacked her hand.
“There’s no time for that. Get your veil and follow me.”
Eloisa did as she was told. Contrary to what others believed of her, she always did as she was explicitly told. It was just that sometimes her mind, her feet, or her pen would wander, and those were the times when she got into trouble.
Her hair was a mess, but she did her best to pin her veil to her head as she sprinted behind Sister Verity, who was ascending the spiral hall at an unnerving pace.
“Sister, where are we going?” Eloisa practically slurred the words. She rubbed at her eyes again, as if the act could somehow rid her of her fatigue.
Sister Verity spoke without looking back. “The Cloister, Daughter.”
Her words did not fully wake Eloisa, but they did put the stirrings of panic in her gut.
“Why?”
She knew that there was only one reason a Daughter would be in The Cloister, but her mind refused to draw the logical conclusion because it simply made no sense.
When Sister Verity didn’t answer, Eloisa said, “Sister, I don’t think I’m supposed to be in there yet. The ceremony is still weeks away.”
Sister Verity spun around and grabbed Eloisa by the arm. “The Goddess has no need for ceremony. All She needs is your Truth, and She will give you Her blessing. You’ve come this far. You’ve devoted a century of your life to Her. How could she not have you?”
Tears in her eyes, she looked up as she spoke, as if beseeching Phaeda to answer her question.
Never, in all of her years, had she seen Sister Verity give such a display of emotion, and all at once Eloisa was terrified.
“Sister Verity, what is going on?”
Again, she received no response. The Sister began pulling her along like a chained dog.
The room that Eloisa shared with Selia was at the highest point of the tower’s center. Eloisa had read once that heat rose, but as they ascended into the upper level of the tower, beyond the cramped, hive-like rooms of the Sisters and past the Maiden’s rooms with their heavy doors, Eloisa’s skin grew chilled and clammy.
When they finally reached the ornate double doors that led to The Cloister, Eloisa dug her heels in, forcing Sister Verity to stagger. The Sister whipped around, her teary eyes replaced with a fiery glare.
“I am saving your eternal soul. Try and act gracious.”
Eloisa yanked her arm free. “Clarification, please! How can you expect me to be gracious when you’ve told me nothing?”
Sister Verity was already pushing the doors open. “Just come inside and I will explain everything.”
As Sister Verity stepped inside, leaving Eloisa at the doorway, Eloisa knew it was her opportunity to run. She glanced over her shoulder, and then into The Cloister. The room was illuminated by moonlight spilling in from the skylight, and beyond Sister Verity’s shambling form she could see the massive likeness of Phaeda.
She was drawn in not by Sister Verity’s words, but by the beauty of the statue. Beyond the walls of the tower, the statue would have been sacrosanct, as it depicted a female goddess in the form of a dragon. At least a dozen spans high, it loomed over the room, its elongated neck ben
t so that its head pointed downward, its sapphire eyes leering at the room’s occupants.
It was the second time she’d seen the statue, though the first time she’d only peeked at it, too afraid to enter the room without permission. Constructed of marble and ivory, the serpentine dragoness was adorned with crystal scales that caught the light and reflected it throughout the room. On Phaeda’s back were expansive wings, the likes of which Eloisa had only ever seen on the backs of swans.
She felt the weight of the divine press down on her as she entered The Cloister, her bare feet making nary a sound on the marble floor. In moments such as these, she wondered if she was truly feeling Phaeda’s presence, or if it was simply the majesty of it all, filling her with awe. In any case, she didn’t hesitate when Sister Verity instructed her to go to her knees.
“Good, good,” Sister Verity said, rushing over to close the door behind them.
The sound of the slamming door gave Eloisa a start, and she felt her earlier uneasiness creeping back in to gnaw at her confidence.
“Please, tell me what’s going on.”
Sister Verity shook her head. “After, I promise. But now you must say your vows and speak your Truth.”
“But I…” Eloisa shook her head and started to stand. “I don’t know the words. The ceremony isn’t for weeks. I haven’t practiced them.”
Sister Verity put a hand on her shoulder, forcing Eloisa back down. With her other hand, she produced her Oathbook from her pocket and thrust it at Eloisa.
“The thirtieth page. Say the words and speak your Truth.”
Eloisa accepted the Oathbook, her hands trembling as the thumbed through the pages. It was Sister Verity’s personal book, and although the spine was worn and the pages were yellowed with age, there were no creases or notations to be seen. Eloisa had no doubt that the Sister knew every line of all one-hundred twenty pages by heart.
When she opened her mouth to begin speaking the words, she first let out a strange warbling sound. She looked up at Sister Verity with pleading eyes, but the Sister returned her stare with a stern expression.
What would be the consequences if she refused? Eloisa had no idea. She’d broken rules plenty of times, but never had she refused the order of a Sister, especially Sister Verity. And although she had the impression that Sister Verity was doing something she wasn’t supposed to, Eloisa had never known Sister Verity to break a rule or to even paint the truth.
If Sister Verity said that her eternal soul was at stake, she meant it. So, Eloisa read the words.
“Goddess Phaeda, Mother of the Sun and Stars, Keeper of Light, Holy Maiden of Purity, Seer of Truth, I humble myself before you.”
Try as she might, she couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice as she spoke. Her eyes flitted between the words, Sister Verity, and the white dragon looming over her. The words felt like an incantation, and she wouldn’t have been surprised if the statue came to life and devoured her whole.
I’m not ready. I’m not worthy.
She couldn’t push the words from her mind, even as she continued reciting her vows, the vows that would, if accepted, make her a Sister of the tower and bring her fully into Phaeda’s fold.
“I come to you pure of body, m-mind, and soul. I claim no king, no emperor, no earthly sovereigns, or lands. I claim only one title: Daughter of Phaeda. I now shed that, too, as I bestow upon you my deepest Truth. I pray that you take it into your keeping, absolving me of my final burden. My Truth is this…”
Her mind stuttered, her entire body trembling now. This was the moment she’d been dreading for years, since the very day she’d taken her oaths as a Daughter a half-century past.
Her Truth.
Every living person, human and dragonkind alike had one. It was the secret hidden inside the soul, the private desire that many might find shameful to speak of, either because it was selfish, or because it was abhorrent or perverse.
If she were to speak her Truth, no matter how vile or banal, so long as it was indeed her deepest Truth, Phaeda would absolve her of it. The goddess would cleanse it from her soul, and she would fill the void with Light and Truth. At least was what she’d always been told.
Eloisa wet her cracked lips. “I’m sorry, I don’t know it. I can’t think. I’m not prepared. I need more time.”
As the words poured out of her, Sister Verity fell to her knees and took Eloisa’s shaking hands into hers. Her aura danced around her head, flickering with so many colors that Eloisa scarcely knew what to expect.
“Do you want to know what my Truth was?”
Eloisa’s eyes widened, and she nodded without having to consider it. Never had a Sister offered up her Truth. It wasn’t explicitly against the rules, but it was understood that Truths were to be left in the past, never touched again once they’d been cleansed.
“My Truth was that I wished vengeance on my father. I wanted him to suffer and I wanted him to die, and I wanted him to know that I was responsible for his misery. For a century, I learned the scriptures, the oaths, and the prayers, but it meant nothing to me because deep in the core of my being, all I truly wanted was to be free of this place, free so that I could enact what I believed to be justice.”
Sister Verity’s grip tightened. “I knew, deep down, as you do, what my Truth was, but I was afraid to speak it. I was afraid because I didn’t want Phaeda to cleanse me of it, because that hatred was all that I knew, it was all that I thought I was. But when I spoke the words I—”
Her head turned towards the doorway. It was still shut, but she must have heard the approaching footsteps as Eloisa had seconds before.
Taking on a rushed, urgent tone, she said, “Truth does not need to be considered, Daughter. It simply is. Recognize what is true to you and say it. Say it, now.”
Eloisa bowed her head, tears rolling down her face. Sister Verity was right. She knew her Truth. She’d always known it, and at the same time, had discounted it. It was not some great and terrible secret. She didn’t wish harm or death upon anyone. She held no hatred in her heart. She did not even resent her family for sending her away, or forgetting about her.
Throughout the century, only one desire had plagued her. It was the wish she held closest to her, that colored her every hope and dream. Without it, she didn’t know who she was, or how she could possibly have any joy in life.
For the first time, she understood what it meant to give herself fully to the goddess, and it terrified her. But if the alternative was to damn her eternal soul, then what choice did she have?
“My Truth is…”
“Go on,” Sister Verity encouraged. Her grip had become almost painful.
Eloisa sucked in a breath and then let the words fly from her in a sob.
“I want to know the love of a man.”
Speaking the words aloud felt akin to tearing her heart from her chest, but she felt nothing from the goddess, and heard no voice save for Sister Verity’s.
“Bless you, Sister,” Sister Verity said, pulling her into an embrace that was unexpectedly warm. “Feel no shame. You are far from the first to speak that Truth. Phaeda has heard you. You will no longer be a slave to your worldly desires. You are free.”
Eloisa cried against Sister Verity’s shoulder. “No, this wasn’t right. The goddess didn’t speak to me. We should have waited for the ceremony. This is—”
“Sacrilegious,” thundered High Maiden Ionia as she slammed open the doors. “I should have known I would find you here. Stand up, you insipid wench!”
Eloisa was shocked enough to hear such a harsh tone from the demure High Maiden, but it was a double blow to realize that she was talking not to her, but to Sister Verity.
“You cannot have her now,” Sister Verity said, her aura at once flaring hot red and imperious purple. “She has spoken her Truth and belongs fully to Phaeda.”
Ionia strode across the room, her white veil flying back as her hand rose. Sister Verity made no effort to block the slap that struck the side of her face. The sh
arp sound echoed throughout The Cloister.
“Whatever you think has happened here, you will speak of it to no one. If I hear so much as a whisper of this, I will leave you in The Dark Room to rot.”
For the second time that night, Eloisa was taken by the arm and pulled along. She tried looking over her shoulder at Sister Verity, but the older woman had hung her head, her aura once again a muddle of incoherent colors.
High Maiden Ionia’s aura was always a blue so pale it was nearly white. It was a color that Eloisa had grown to associate with purity and piousness. Selia had once told her that Eloisa’s own aura was similar to High Maiden Ionia’s, except that it shimmered a majestic gold—though less and less with each year that passed. Indeed, many of the Sisters had told Eloisa that she could be High Maiden herself one day, could she but control her wickedness.
Today, High Maiden Ionia’s aura looked to a pale gray, though it flickered with a sallow shade of yellow—the color of cowardice. Eloisa blinked several times, and when the color remained, she knew she must be truly addled from her time spent in the dark.
The thought put a new and intense panic into her. Was that where she was being taken? Was she to be punished for breaking with tradition?
“High Maiden Ionia, you must know that I…”
She started to say that she had nothing to do with any of this, but she recognized that it would be painting the truth. It might not have been her idea to go forth with speaking her Truth and her vows, but she’d done it just the same. She was every bit as responsible as Sister Verity.
“It was not my intention to break the rules. Sister Verity came to me in my chambers and I went with her, not knowing what she intended. When I—”
“Enough,” the High Maiden said, sounding weary. “You, too, must put this out of your mind. There was no ceremony. You are not a Sister, nor will you ever be one. It is through no fault of your own, but you must leave this place.”
Eloisa was shaking her head. “I don’t understand. Leave where?”
“The tower, Princess.”
It was the first time she’d heard the title in decades, and Eloisa’s mind did not immediately register it as her own.