Gabrielle stood right in front of the Chapel’s front gate, with water still dripping from her everywhere as the drizzle turned into a true tempest in the blink of an eye, right as she started the long way back home. The demihuman caravan was, with some luck, already far away and back on track towards wherever it is they were going — as the girl took off her habit and squeezed the water out now that she was covered by the little roof of the gate, she realized that she had no idea where those people were going to.
“Our Goddess has called us back to her embrace”, said Bohlin when she asked. Of course, this answer was of no help! Gabrielle didn’t even know there were Gods and Goddesses at all, so this was all news to her. Sadly, asking for more details only got the young boy flustered and upset. “She just said we have to go, so we’re going! Simple as!” he said, shaking his head to stop any more questions. “Wherever is that we’re going, it’s probably going to be better than here”
Better than here… another alien concept.
When Gabrielle looked up to the skies during her lonely days of nonstop working, she often wondered if this was truly all there was to life: to work, survive, trying not to get in trouble and eventually ascend! If she was to believe the Prologues of the Saints then for sure, this would be everything! And yet she had to repeat this to herself several times a day to make sure no “tantrums” overtook her. And now turns out there are better places to be? What was she doing here, then? Maybe she should go to another place?? Find one where she could…
…
…What would she do, in a better place anyway?
There were too many things to reconsider, and little Gabi was already getting dizzy trying to keep up with her own trains of thought. As she squeezed some water off her hair, Gabrielle tried to make a list of things to reconsider — after all, everything is much easier if you make a list! That’s what Sister Arianna always said.
Okay. Number one was to think a bit more about where she was, why she was there, and if she should go somewhere else. Better, if she could choose… but that would imply knowing what other places are there, and if they really are better at all. And how to judge if they—
One thing at a time, damn it.
Number two would be all that entire thing, then. The whole “what places are there and how to judge them” thing.
Number three? Her habit. She still really resented having to hide her hair all the time, but today she was given little biscuits! Crunchy squared biscuits wrapped in a soft blue silk, a gift from the kind demihumans (No, elves. They don’t like being called demis) after all the help. Why is that relevant to her habit? Well, after a quick thought, Gabi realized that coming back home with a precious treasure like that would immediately make the other girls jealous, so she needed to hide them.
And the best place to hide them, the place no one would ever find them, was right under her habit. People didn’t like to touch her anyways, especially not her hair, so the delicious treasure would be hidden until she needed it!!
Gabrielle grinned to herself, patting the bundle of silk nestled on her red mess of a hairdo. Yes, this had to be the best idea she ever had, and honestly, in hindsight, maybe she should have thought of it quite sooner… but she never really had anything worth hiding in the first place.
So yes. Number three: maybe this habit of hers wasn’t that bad. Maybe she could give it some use.
Oh hey, I counted to three…!
All intentions to follow Sister Arianna’s method crumbled down almost instantly as the girl noticed that detail. Of course she knew how to count, she was supposed to count up to ten by this point! But every time she was questioned about it by the sisters, the names of the numbers just jumbled in her brain. Why? Why did that always happen when it mattered most!? She probably had to add it to the list.
Right, the list!
Number four: the counting thing. She was just dashing through those items! Gabrielle fixed the habit (item number 3) on her head, made sure it looked nice and presentable, and with a renewed sense of confidence she pushed the gates open.
I can probably ask Sister Arianna about those things too, if I will bother her anyway.
Her dress was still dripping, so she had to make sure to hug the wall when entering the main hall of the chapel. Everything looked so dark and gloomy when the place was empty, dimly lit only by the ceremonial oil lamps; the benches and old stone statues cast all sorts of deformed shadows on the velvety carpet separating the seats in two rows, leaving the transept in relative obscurity…
Gabrielle didn’t need to get even close to any of that though: the East Door was very close to her right, leading to the dressing room and the hallway beyond it. If she hurried, she could maybe arrive at the table without being noticed! With some luck, they would still be praying to bless the meal!
The perfect plan.
The East Door was open, as it always was outside of Gooday’s mass. The fancy silk robes the girls wore that very morning were now hanging on their walls, along with many other pieces of clothing the nuns used for service. Gabrielle allowed her hand to slide slowly on the soft, fancy cloth while she walked, her heartwarming with the gentle sensation. There was another open door right on the other side of the little dressing room, and beyond that: the East Hallway.
A long stone hallway that held some rusty pieces of armor, paintings, tiny marble figurines and other things that no one was allowed to touch, but everyone touched anyways when there were no nuns around.
Gabi shuffled onwards, steeling her determination to not even look, much less pet, the collection of marble dog figurines Father Enrico kept there. There was no time to waste, and she could always give them a little pat on the head another day, so she went straight to the door – only for it to open right before she could touch it. She froze. If it was one of the girls, or saints forbid many of them, they would gleefully take the chance to smack her once or twice, with the excuse of “mistaking her for a thief”.
It had happened before, and even if they pretended it was a joke, Gabrielle knew very well they really tried to hurt her, to leave a bruise or two at least.
Trying to prepare for the worst, the little girl covered her face with both arms and closed her eyes, just bracing for impact as the door opened.
“Gabrielle! You’re late for dinner again!”
That voice. It was too old to be one of the girls, too abrasive to be Sister Arianna’s, and the pitch was way too high to be Father Enrico. When the girl opened her eyes, she saw one of the nuns standing right in front of her, arms crossed, an incomprehensible expression on her wrinkly face. Sister Tasce.
Gabi stared at her for a moment, feeling the relief wash on her. This was one of the older nuns, her body riddled with little wrinkles despite the vitality of her movements, and her face displaying many tiny freckles around her cheeks. Now it felt so obvious to the girl, Sister Tasce was this “miss freckles” the other girls talked about… but she knew it would be but a second before she forgot that face again.
She was ready to bow her head and apologize to the nun, before the back of Sister Tasce’s hand swiftly smacked the girl’s cheek. The sound was quick, dry, quickly followed by two or three more on each side. Smack, smack, smack! It felt so distant, like stings rather than hits, but for some reason the fact that it was her face being hit just made them feel even harsher. An annoying whistle blew inside her ears while her eyes grew a bit glossy. For a moment she felt like yelping, but she could only gasp.
“Disrespectful little ingrate!! You made us all worried!!” Lied Sister Tasce, more out of obligation than actual concern. “Be thankful that Father decided to keep the gates wide open for you tonight, or else you’d have to sleep right out there with the wolves!! Ohhh, I know that would be fitting for a wicked child like you. But alas, the Saints are merciful! You better go to the dining room right now and quietly eat, Gabrielle.”
The girl felt her cheeks slowly swell and redden, her face so uncomfortably hot. She felt the need to rub them or say something, anything really, but Gabi knew better than to just answer. With time, she had learned that excusing herself only made people angrier, so she just bowed her head in respectful apology and then stared at the Nun, looking into her eyes as she had been instructed to. She would wait to have permission to leave…
—
Sister Tasce, on the other hand, had immediately regretted all her choices. She needed a way to vent her frustrations with Father’s constant nagging and demanding, and no one really cared about the Witch, so she could hit it without any repercussions as long as this didn’t make trouble for others or stopped the Witch from working.
It was satisfying for a second, but then reality hit Tasce back. Because she knew her fit of rage would not mean a thing.
The kid, it felt no pain.
She knew this, it knew this, everyone knew this. She could smack the child, spank it, scream at it, whip its back until it bleeds, she could probably even stab it with a knife and only then would she see this Devil wince—and worse was that stare it always gave her afterward. That intense glare, the way those unblinking eyes looked straight into one’s soul as if aware of her sins, of her shameful attitude…
So not only was it unsatisfying to hit this Witch, for there would be no reaction at all, but now she also had to feel judged for it. These were the moments where Tasce wished she had never ordered it not to complain. Because oh, she knew this was her doing, she and her big mouth had cast this upon everyone, and now she just had to take it and not even dare to complain.
It had been almost seven years since she yelled at a crying little Gabrielle to be silent and not complain about her just punishment. Tasce couldn’t even remember what the whole deal was about, or how it started, but she remembered grabbing the noisy Devil by the ears. Something about its lament simply struck a nerve in the nun, so in a fit of anger she simply screamed:
“NO MORE CRYING. BE SILENT!!”
And it obeyed without hesitation.
The kid grew quieter from then on, biting its lips every time a tantrum was about to start, forcing itself to quiet down as soon as it was told to. A miracle, really! Until it finally stopped crying altogether.
Tasce didn’t realize her mistake until that very moment. She had given the Devil a reason to shed some of its normalcy, and now all that remained was this unnerving, taciturn husk in human form. The children kept teasing it, trying to get it to cry or scream, yet nothing worked! No punishment changed that cold, expressionless face! No amount of screaming made it show any sort of emotion or remorse, it would just stand and tremble in fear—but how could one feel fear without the face betraying some of it!?
Fake. All semblances of emotion it showed had to be fake, mere imitations of humanity by the Adversary themselves!! Because it was impossible to think a person would be dense enough to pull this silent, judgemental charade for years on end. Oh, to think that having a silent child would feel bad. This was a mockery. Mockery for sure, it had to be. The kid clearly did it on purpose as a challenge, as a way to flaunt the strength the Adversary herself had given it…
Sister Tasce’s fists balled for a moment, so tempted to hit it again. To make it feel the pain, to force the fear of the Saints into its sinful little body until its heart beat no more, and get rid of this pest who had been pestering them for Saints know how long now! Was it ten years?
But no. She couldn’t. Not only was she already wasting time that she could be using to eat, but Father himself wanted to keep the child alive. It was useful to them that way.
But the Devil just kept staring.
The old woman breathed in, this was a test of her temple for sure, and she would not fail again. Not tonight. She simply sighed, snatched the devil’s hand, and hurriedly walked back to the eating hall without a single word.
Be patient, Tasce… just give time to the Saints and all will fall into its rightful place. By the mercy of Humanity itself.
Amen.
—
Gabrielle felt confused, but she merely accepted this. There was no use asking why or what, there never was a point to it. She just allowed the woman to pull her like a ragdoll through the door and towards the warm, loud dining room while adding a new item to her list.
Did I make too much noise when slapped? Maybe I should be a little quieter next time…
Gabrielle stood right in front of the Chapel’s front gate, with water still dripping from her everywhere as the drizzle turned into a true tempest in the blink of an eye, right as she started the long way back home. The demihuman caravan was, with some luck, already far away and back on track towards wherever it is they were going — as the girl took off her habit and squeezed the water out now that she was covered by the little roof of the gate, she realized that she had no idea where those people were going to.
“Our Goddess has called us back to her embrace”, said Bohlin when she asked. Of course, this answer was of no help! Gabrielle didn’t even know there were Gods and Goddesses at all, so this was all news to her. Sadly, asking for more details only got the young boy flustered and upset. “She just said we have to go, so we’re going! Simple as!” he said, shaking his head to stop any more questions. “Wherever is that we’re going, it’s probably going to be better than here”
Better than here… another alien concept.
When Gabrielle looked up to the skies during her lonely days of nonstop working, she often wondered if this was truly all there was to life: to work, survive, trying not to get in trouble and eventually ascend! If she was to believe the Prologues of the Saints then for sure, this would be everything! And yet she had to repeat this to herself several times a day to make sure no “tantrums” overtook her. And now turns out there are better places to be? What was she doing here, then? Maybe she should go to another place?? Find one where she could…
…
…What would she do, in a better place anyway?
There were too many things to reconsider, and little Gabi was already getting dizzy trying to keep up with her own trains of thought. As she squeezed some water off her hair, Gabrielle tried to make a list of things to reconsider — after all, everything is much easier if you make a list! That’s what Sister Arianna always said.
Okay. Number one was to think a bit more about where she was, why she was there, and if she should go somewhere else. Better, if she could choose… but that would imply knowing what other places are there, and if they really are better at all. And how to judge if they—
One thing at a time, damn it.
Number two would be all that entire thing, then. The whole “what places are there and how to judge them” thing.
Number three? Her habit. She still really resented having to hide her hair all the time, but today she was given little biscuits! Crunchy squared biscuits wrapped in a soft blue silk, a gift from the kind demihumans (No, elves. They don’t like being called demis) after all the help. Why is that relevant to her habit? Well, after a quick thought, Gabi realized that coming back home with a precious treasure like that would immediately make the other girls jealous, so she needed to hide them.
And the best place to hide them, the place no one would ever find them, was right under her habit. People didn’t like to touch her anyways, especially not her hair, so the delicious treasure would be hidden until she needed it!!
Gabrielle grinned to herself, patting the bundle of silk nestled on her red mess of a hairdo. Yes, this had to be the best idea she ever had, and honestly, in hindsight, maybe she should have thought of it quite sooner… but she never really had anything worth hiding in the first place.
So yes. Number three: maybe this habit of hers wasn’t that bad. Maybe she could give it some use.
Oh hey, I counted to three…!
All intentions to follow Sister Arianna’s method crumbled down almost instantly as the girl noticed that detail. Of course she knew how to count, she was supposed to count up to ten by this point! But every time she was questioned about it by the sisters, the names of the numbers just jumbled in her brain. Why? Why did that always happen when it mattered most!? She probably had to add it to the list.
Right, the list!
Number four: the counting thing. She was just dashing through those items! Gabrielle fixed the habit (item number 3) on her head, made sure it looked nice and presentable, and with a renewed sense of confidence she pushed the gates open.
I can probably ask Sister Arianna about those things too, if I will bother her anyway.
Her dress was still dripping, so she had to make sure to hug the wall when entering the main hall of the chapel. Everything looked so dark and gloomy when the place was empty, dimly lit only by the ceremonial oil lamps; the benches and old stone statues cast all sorts of deformed shadows on the velvety carpet separating the seats in two rows, leaving the transept in relative obscurity…
Gabrielle didn’t need to get even close to any of that though: the East Door was very close to her right, leading to the dressing room and the hallway beyond it. If she hurried, she could maybe arrive at the table without being noticed! With some luck, they would still be praying to bless the meal!
The perfect plan.
The East Door was open, as it always was outside of Gooday’s mass. The fancy silk robes the girls wore that very morning were now hanging on their walls, along with many other pieces of clothing the nuns used for service. Gabrielle allowed her hand to slide slowly on the soft, fancy cloth while she walked, her heartwarming with the gentle sensation. There was another open door right on the other side of the little dressing room, and beyond that: the East Hallway.
A long stone hallway that held some rusty pieces of armor, paintings, tiny marble figurines and other things that no one was allowed to touch, but everyone touched anyways when there were no nuns around.
Gabi shuffled onwards, steeling her determination to not even look, much less pet, the collection of marble dog figurines Father Enrico kept there. There was no time to waste, and she could always give them a little pat on the head another day, so she went straight to the door – only for it to open right before she could touch it. She froze. If it was one of the girls, or saints forbid many of them, they would gleefully take the chance to smack her once or twice, with the excuse of “mistaking her for a thief”.
It had happened before, and even if they pretended it was a joke, Gabrielle knew very well they really tried to hurt her, to leave a bruise or two at least.
Trying to prepare for the worst, the little girl covered her face with both arms and closed her eyes, just bracing for impact as the door opened.
“Gabrielle! You’re late for dinner again!”
That voice. It was too old to be one of the girls, too abrasive to be Sister Arianna’s, and the pitch was way too high to be Father Enrico. When the girl opened her eyes, she saw one of the nuns standing right in front of her, arms crossed, an incomprehensible expression on her wrinkly face. Sister Tasce.
Gabi stared at her for a moment, feeling the relief wash on her. This was one of the older nuns, her body riddled with little wrinkles despite the vitality of her movements, and her face displaying many tiny freckles around her cheeks. Now it felt so obvious to the girl, Sister Tasce was this “miss freckles” the other girls talked about… but she knew it would be but a second before she forgot that face again.
She was ready to bow her head and apologize to the nun, before the back of Sister Tasce’s hand swiftly smacked the girl’s cheek. The sound was quick, dry, quickly followed by two or three more on each side. Smack, smack, smack! It felt so distant, like stings rather than hits, but for some reason the fact that it was her face being hit just made them feel even harsher. An annoying whistle blew inside her ears while her eyes grew a bit glossy. For a moment she felt like yelping, but she could only gasp.
“Disrespectful little ingrate!! You made us all worried!!” Lied Sister Tasce, more out of obligation than actual concern. “Be thankful that Father decided to keep the gates wide open for you tonight, or else you’d have to sleep right out there with the wolves!! Ohhh, I know that would be fitting for a wicked child like you. But alas, the Saints are merciful! You better go to the dining room right now and quietly eat, Gabrielle.”
The girl felt her cheeks slowly swell and redden, her face so uncomfortably hot. She felt the need to rub them or say something, anything really, but Gabi knew better than to just answer. With time, she had learned that excusing herself only made people angrier, so she just bowed her head in respectful apology and then stared at the Nun, looking into her eyes as she had been instructed to. She would wait to have permission to leave…
—
Sister Tasce, on the other hand, had immediately regretted all her choices. She needed a way to vent her frustrations with Father’s constant nagging and demanding, and no one really cared about the Witch, so she could hit it without any repercussions as long as this didn’t make trouble for others or stopped the Witch from working.
It was satisfying for a second, but then reality hit Tasce back. Because she knew her fit of rage would not mean a thing.
The kid, it felt no pain.
She knew this, it knew this, everyone knew this. She could smack the child, spank it, scream at it, whip its back until it bleeds, she could probably even stab it with a knife and only then would she see this Devil wince—and worse was that stare it always gave her afterward. That intense glare, the way those unblinking eyes looked straight into one’s soul as if aware of her sins, of her shameful attitude…
So not only was it unsatisfying to hit this Witch, for there would be no reaction at all, but now she also had to feel judged for it. These were the moments where Tasce wished she had never ordered it not to complain. Because oh, she knew this was her doing, she and her big mouth had cast this upon everyone, and now she just had to take it and not even dare to complain.
It had been almost seven years since she yelled at a crying little Gabrielle to be silent and not complain about her just punishment. Tasce couldn’t even remember what the whole deal was about, or how it started, but she remembered grabbing the noisy Devil by the ears. Something about its lament simply struck a nerve in the nun, so in a fit of anger she simply screamed:
“NO MORE CRYING. BE SILENT!!”
And it obeyed without hesitation.
The kid grew quieter from then on, biting its lips every time a tantrum was about to start, forcing itself to quiet down as soon as it was told to. A miracle, really! Until it finally stopped crying altogether.
Tasce didn’t realize her mistake until that very moment. She had given the Devil a reason to shed some of its normalcy, and now all that remained was this unnerving, taciturn husk in human form. The children kept teasing it, trying to get it to cry or scream, yet nothing worked! No punishment changed that cold, expressionless face! No amount of screaming made it show any sort of emotion or remorse, it would just stand and tremble in fear—but how could one feel fear without the face betraying some of it!?
Fake. All semblances of emotion it showed had to be fake, mere imitations of humanity by the Adversary themselves!! Because it was impossible to think a person would be dense enough to pull this silent, judgemental charade for years on end. Oh, to think that having a silent child would feel bad. This was a mockery. Mockery for sure, it had to be. The kid clearly did it on purpose as a challenge, as a way to flaunt the strength the Adversary herself had given it…
Sister Tasce’s fists balled for a moment, so tempted to hit it again. To make it feel the pain, to force the fear of the Saints into its sinful little body until its heart beat no more, and get rid of this pest who had been pestering them for Saints know how long now! Was it ten years?
But no. She couldn’t. Not only was she already wasting time that she could be using to eat, but Father himself wanted to keep the child alive. It was useful to them that way.
But the Devil just kept staring.
The old woman breathed in, this was a test of her temple for sure, and she would not fail again. Not tonight. She simply sighed, snatched the devil’s hand, and hurriedly walked back to the eating hall without a single word.
Be patient, Tasce… just give time to the Saints and all will fall into its rightful place. By the mercy of Humanity itself.
Amen.
—
Gabrielle felt confused, but she merely accepted this. There was no use asking why or what, there never was a point to it. She just allowed the woman to pull her like a ragdoll through the door and towards the warm, loud dining room while adding a new item to her list.
Did I make too much noise when slapped? Maybe I should be a little quieter next time…
