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Fall Harvest
Head bowed so far her forehead rested against cold stone, Maren of the Nameless knelt before the bishop on the tower floor. She didn’t need to see him to know that he stood between two priests, and that they were flanked by two templars in full plate armor. The soft clink of steel manacles against the hilt of swords rang loud in her ears, a warning—nay a promise—that they stood ready to strike her down for the slightest offense.
Fingers curled into fists, she bit her lip to hold back a cry as the tincture he’d given her burned her throat and set fire to her veins. It always burned, and she always swallowed her cries.
They would punish her if she didn’t.
Besides, the tincture wasn’t the worst part. No. That was reserved for the purpose of the drink. But perhaps this time the concoction would fail, and she’d be spared.
Please, let it fail, she silently prayed.
“Tell me what you see,” the bishop intoned. “In the name of the Chastry and our fallen gods, I compel you.”
She closed her eyes as impossible shades of blue and gold bled into the stone. Golden Gods have mercy, the drink had not failed. Soon the vision would come and she’d be forced to witness another horror.
Or worse, fail to see what the bishop wanted.
“I bid you view our chaste brothers and sisters of the Grand Duchy of Cyrandir,” he said, “and tell me how we can lead the glorious ascension of the Chastry across these struggling lands.”
“I… I will try…” Uncurling her hands, she tried to grip the floor, but it was already dissolving into mist. Bursts of red shot through the mist. Terror gripped her by the throat. No, no, no. She knew what that crimson light meant, knew what followed wouldn’t be the vision the bishop wanted.
“It’s not…” She gasped as the clouds parted and her world became a city ravaged by flames. “Dear, Gods. It’s not what you want. I’m sorry, it is not what you want. I cannot—”
Pain exploded in the side of her head.
“Try harder,” he demanded. “Tell me.”
“I… I…” She tried to pull away from the flames, to seek out an image of the great and golden future that the Bishop sought for his master. But the vision had her in its clutches. She could no more turn away than she could stop the flow of information from her lips.
Sometimes she saw pictures, but often it was words beating through her.
“The bishop is the beast,” she cried as the fire blended into a figure wearing the gold and white robes of the Chastry, which melted into fangs. “The bishop is the beast and he’s burning.”
The fire was reaching out to her, hooked like burning claws.
A scream tore from her as it slashed her face.
“Enough.” Something struck her cheek, and cold washed over her.
The vision vanished into fog, and she emerged to find herself once again in the tower room. She knelt in a pool of water, her hair drenched and her shift stuck to her body. Crossing her arms over her chest, she bent forward and did her best to conceal the shape of her body.
“How dare you lie to a servant of the Golden Gods.” Boney fingers gripped her chin, forcing her to meet the furious gaze of the bishop. “Wicked lies about our brothers. The demons whisper in your ear, and you must be chastised until your soul is pure.”
“Please,” she whispered. “I beg you. Just a little bread…”
“No bread.” He released her face. “You will fast, and you will pray.”
They left her alone, the heavy door closing in their wake and the lock sliding shut with its distinctive thud. The sound hit like a blow, and another cry escaped her lips.
Shivering from the cold, hungry from the force of the vision, she crawled to the pile of straw that served as her bed. Pulling her thin blanket over herself, she curled into a ball and covered her eyes with her arm. Every bone ached, the pain too great for her to imagine her mystery knight, the one she’d dreamed of as a girl, the one she’d once believed would rescue her.
She’d given up hoping for a savior.
All she could do was pray the fallen gods would let exhaustion steal her into sleep…
A ripple of warm air washed over her. “Wake, my dear child.”
Pushing back the tiredness, Maren peeked from beneath her arm.
