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Chapter 5: Verna

  Verna woke up screaming.

  Hands clung to her face, eyes pleading as the flesh fell from a ruined skull.

  Her throat burned raw. A damp weight of sweat clung to her back, and the sheets stuck to her shivering frame. “Only a dream,” she panted. “Only a dream.”

  Three nights she had suffered. Three nights she waited in her room. Waited for help, for answers, for anyone. But she was alone again. The door was locked from the outside.

  What happened? What did I do? The Confessor, was he truly...gone? What will happen to me? “Oh Goddess, what have I done?” she sobbed.

  “Hush now, child.” The voice was stern and cool.

  Verna opened her eyes in a flurry, nearly jumping out of her bed in surprise. Tucked into the darkness of her room sat an ancient elven woman. Lean faced with thin gray hair; she wore the clean white robes of the Order. She lifted her head slowly, her arched back bending like a willow tree, revealing a golden chain hanging past her chest.

  “High Priestess Raiphera,” Verna gasped. “My apologies for my dress. I did not know you were here!” Verna rushed to stand and bow, but a sing of metal froze her in place.

  From the shadows, a mountain of armor glared at her. Encased in a gilded plate, the paladin guard stared at Verna with his hand on his sword, unsheathed but a single deadly inch.

  Verna sat back slowly, the threat hanging on her like a weight.

  The High Priestess cleared her throat, and the blade slid back in. Her blue eyes opened, cataract-filled and foggy. “I remember when you first came to us,” she croaked. “A lost little girl. Blessed by the goddess with the strangest silver hair and violet eyes. Such pretty eyes. Such a pretty face. You were a wonder to behold. A gift. Sent to us by Her hand and bound to serve Her with such passion. The pride of Lightfall. A favorite of the good Deacon himself.” The High Priestess smiled. “Oh, child, what has happened to you?”

  Verna could have collapsed back into tears. The High Priestess spoke so softly, it was more than she could bear. “Domina Raiphera, I am so sorry. All I wanted was to live under Her light. All I ever wanted was to serve Her as you taught me. I don’t know what has happened. I swear to you I sought to be purified! Please, Domina, please guide me.”

  “A great horror has struck our precious Order,” Raiphera wheezed. “We have lost a member of our flock.”

  “Oh, good goddess!” Verna gasped. “Is he...the Confessor...is he...?”

  “Gone.”

  The word rang out simply. As if the meaning did not damn Verna to a fate worse than death. As if the utterance was not her own doom sealed in blood.

  “Domina...” Verna panted, the air too thin, the room too small. It was over. Everything was gone. She was ruined. There was no home here. There was no guiding light for her. The sisters and brothers would be strangers to her. She would be nothing. No one. Malina, in all Her glory, would cast her aside.

  “Domina, please, you must help me!” Verna wailed. “Please! I will do anything! I live for Her glory! I dedicate my every waking moment to Her worship! Please, there has been a terrible mistake!”

  “Mistake? The only mistake I see, child, is you.”

  Verna’s vision spun. Her world cracked. “No, please, I beg of you! Please-”

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  “Enough!” The High Priestess roared with a sudden fury. “Enough of this! You failed us! You failed Her! A betrayal! A disappointment! Few rise through our ranks so quickly! Your bond with Our Lady was unheard of beyond the highest of our Order! You could have borne Her power and healed the sick in untold numbers! And yet, to see you now...” Raiphera shook her head. “A disappointment. A failure. Dare I say, a heretic?”

  “No!” Verna pleaded. “No! I never doubted Her! I never turned to another! I never sought a vice! I only sought Her love!”

  “Show it to me! Demonstrate to me the Lady’s presence in your heart! Prove to me you are more than just a common charlatan!”

  Verna fell from the bed, her knees cracking against the stone. “Yes, Domina. Of course, Domina!”

  She touched her fingers to her brow, slamming her eyes closed. The words flew from her lips, stuttered, and pleaded. Within her, she pressed, knocking aside any emotion but absolute devotion, any thought but those of her goddess.

  “I do not sense it in you, child,” Raiphera hissed. “You waste my time.”

  “No, Domina!” Verna begged. “Please! Grant me just a moment longer! My wounds, they distract me!” Verna raised her bandaged hands to the High Priestess as proof, but the old woman looked away.

  “A blessed daughter faces no such obstacle as simple pain.”

  “Yes, of course Domina! Pain is nothing in the sight of Her light. Pleasure is but a distraction from Her sight. I serve as a vestige of Her love. I live as guided by Her hand!” Verna bowed, her head scratching against the stone. “I can feel Her! I swear to you! I will be one with Her flock!”

  She shouted the prayers louder now, touching her fingers to her brow in rapid succession. Her heart pounded, the fear drilling into her bones.

  Again and again, she searched inside.

  Again and again, she carved away any other thought, any other emotion, any other memory but Malina’s embrace.

  But there was nothing.

  Verna fell to the floor, sweat dripping from her brow, the air thin in every panted breath. “I tried, Domina. I tried to feel Her. I swear to you, I do.”

  “And yet, you cannot.” The old woman clicked her tongue in disappointment. “You were sent here to correct this imperfection. Against my judgment, you were offered a second chance. But even the Confessor could not save your soul.”

  “I want it,” Verna cried. “I want to be one with Her.”

  “But you are not. You are broken. You are a failure.” The High Priestess stood, her ancient form unfolding like some great willow tree before the storm. “You will speak to no one. You will not confide in a single friend. You will value no acquaintance.”

  The sentence was iron, pounded into Verna’s mind. Each stroke was another death toll etched into her heart.

  “What has occurred will never be spoken of again. Following the festival celebrating Her Night of Lights, the sun will have set on your time here. Do you understand me?”

  The sun. Verna shot up suddenly. “Domina, the sun! A black sun! Domina, the Confessor shared with me a horrible vision! A warning! A black sun that will destroy everything-”

  Verna’s cheek flared in pain, her skin raw and hot. The High Priestess had hardly moved, and yet her slap stung like no other.

  “Domina? I didn’t-”

  Again, Raiphera slapped her. And again. And again.

  “Enough of you!” The old woman howled. “You lie! You cling to blasphemy and spread deceit under Her eye! No black sun will rise! No gate will open! He will not reach us! And Her Lady’s grace will never falter! She will guide us into the heavens until the final days of this realm wither and turn to dust! Do you understand me?”

  Tears blinded Verna’s sight. Blood ran freely down her cheeks, the sting of pain silencing her every breath. “Yes, Domina.”

  The old woman stepped to the door, her face flush with rage. “You will be confined to the most remedial of duties. Isolated. Alone. Serving in the attic, away from the rest of our flock. You are a poison to this temple, tolerated only until you are removed. It is only by horrible circumstance that we must endure your presence a few more days. Following the conclusion of Her festival, you will be excommunicated. Banished to the street filth, robbed of Her light, and all that is good! Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Domina.”

  There was nothing left. Her life was over. Ruined. Erased. It was hardly worth the effort to watch the High Priestess and her guard walk out the door. The echo of her steps only drove the blade in Verna’s heart ever deeper.

  “I failed! I ruined everything!” She thrust her hand to her bloodied face, the tears spilling over. “Oh Goddess, I am so sorry! I failed you!” Her sobs rocked her body in awful quakes. “I’d rather die! I can’t lose Her! I can’t! I’m nothing without them! I-I-”

  Verna’s chest burned, her breath too hot, too quick. But she couldn’t stop. “I never wanted to hurt anyone! I tried! I really tried! Please, Our Lady, please forgive me!” She touched her brow in salute over and over again. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  The gasps racked her body, dragging out until she was tired and numb. “Goddess, what have I done?”

  But there was no response. There hadn’t been for a long time.

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