Out of Darkness: Chapter 2 - The Vyrion Monastery

DRAFT - First draft of Chapter 2. We meet the main protagonist

    The Vyrion monastery smelled of damp stone and rotting wood. The classroom was stifling during Summer afternoon Faith lessons, and the young children looked like wilted flowers that had gone too long without fresh water. Wooden benches were arranged in neat rows with spacing between them, yet all the children stood on the stone floor. Many wore no shoes. Ailish stood in the back of the room watching Sia Riada teach the children. Sia Riada held a long thin wand at her side and Ailish watched the woman’s fingers caress the smoothness of the wood. Supposedly, it was a privilege to assist the head Sia, or holy sister. For Ailish, it was torture.
    A boy of eight years stood in front of Sia Riada facing the rest of the children. He was skinny boy with mousy brown hair and dark eyebrows. Sia Riada touched him on the shoulder with wand and the boy flinched. “You may begin,” Sia Riada said.
    “There is one true god, Erus.” the boy said. “The One God is my mother and father.” Sia Riada swung the wand striking the child across the ear.
    “Father and mother,” Sia Riada corrected. “Father and mother. Again.” Ailish clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to take the wand and break it over her knee. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, she thought. The child rubbed his ear, holding back tears, and tried again.
    “There is one true god, Erus. The one god is my father and mother. Erus was not made, or created, or begotten by other gods.” This time Sia Riada cracked the wand across the side of the boy’s neck leaving a red welt. “Nor created, nor begotten,” she corrected. “Have any of you been listening today or practicing the ten truths of the Waarheid Faith?” Sia Riada looked around the room. All the children looked down, many of them rubbed welts on their cheeks, hands, and arms. “Not a single one of you have been able to recite them word for word.” Sia Riada walked through the room and each child shut their eyes as she passed by expecting to feel the sting of the switch. “We will try again tomorrow. But now, out of my sight. To bed with you all.”
    “Sia?” Ailish asked. “The children have not eaten.”
    Sia Riada softened her angry face to a smile. “Children, Novice Ailish is correct. Even though you have greatly displeased the one true god today you shall not go hungry. Ailish reminds us that Erus is the great benefactor.” Ailish relaxed and started to lead the children away, but Sia Riada held up her hand. “Each one will have a crust of bread and an apple,” Sia said. “And Novice Briana will see to it.” She motioned for Ailish to follow her. Ailish’s stomach turned. They walked down a narrow stone passage toward the Novice chambers and Sia Riada said nothing for a good minute.
    “You do not approve of my teaching.” Riada said, not looking at Ailish.
    “With all respect Sia, I’m not sure how much the children are learning with this method,” Ailish said.
    “Do you think I like punishing them?”
    Yes you do. I can see it in your eyes when you do it, she thought. “No, of course not Sia,” She said.
    “First they must fear us. This way they learn to fear the one true god. When they are obedient to Erus, and know his commands, then we can be a little kinder,” Ailish teetered on whether to push further or let it go. She had no power here. She was supposed to be keeping a low profile, doing what she was told, not standing out. But she had just watched Sia Riada strike every child in that room. Inside, Ailish was fuming.
    “But I think that if something is taught through fear and pain then it will only last as long as the fear or the pain.” She realized that she sounded stronger than she had meant to and waited for a rebuke or even for Sia Riada to slap her. Instead, Sia Riada laughed.
    “How would you teach them Ailish? With sweets and games?” She touched Ailish’s cheek. “You are young and you have much to learn. We need to send these children back to their villages so obedient in the Waarheid faith that they will turn in their own parents for breaking the holy laws.” Sia Riada paused, thinking to herself then said, “Tomorrow you will strike them if they make a mistake.” Ailish was left standing in front of the door to her room with her mouth open. She closed it and blew air through her nose like bull ready to charge. No, she cannot make me do that. I must talk to Tallard.
    She did not mind her small room. She had lived in better and worse places over the years, and this little space with a bed, a desk, and a chair felt snug and safe. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it feeling the cool wood against her palms. She closed her eyes and let the anger drain from her with every breath.
    I have been many things and lived many lives but nothing as vile as this. She let the past wash over her memory and tried to center herself. I was an innkeeper’s daughter once. I remember the smell of the lavender that we would hang to dry and the sound of musicians in the common room. She breathed deeply. I was a scribe’s assistant. I remember the smell of fresh ink on the page and the way the binding glue stuck to my fingers like sap from a pine tree. Every breath was a different memory.
    She opened her eyes and came back to the present. She was Ailish Matahva, fourth year novice of the Waarheid faith. The religion that had murdered her family. The very same religion that had murdered all of the Wise Ones, or Fad Matka as her first guardian Mira had called them. You are Fad Matka. You make the long voyage. “How I miss you sometimes Mira,” she said to the empty room. “This has been a very long voyage. And now a dangerous one.” The Waarheid saw those with longevity such as hers as unnatural and evil. She was a demon in their eyes.
    Hiding among them was her guardian, Tallard’s idea. When word reached them that others like her were disappearing, he hatched this plan without telling anyone, even his most trusted friends. It seemed to have worked. There had been no bad news in four years. Things seemed to have settled down, and this had also given her the first opportunity to see The One True Faith from the inside. What she learned did not endear it to her any more than it had for three hundred years. It must be safe enough to do away with this farce. This place is killing my heart.
    She sat down at her desk and looked down at the Livro Unon, The One Book. Everything revolved around this sacred text. She traced her fingers on the cover. It was both fascinating and troubling. Mira had kept her away from anything that had to do with this religion. But her second guardian, Therese, thought it best that she at least learn the basics so not to appear hostile to the beliefs of these invaders. All of her novice training revolved around this book; memorizing passages and learning how to use it to convert others to the faith. So good had she played the part of a novice that she had earned her own copy. No other novice had one. Tallard had scolded her a little for that. “Don’t stand out too Much,” he had said. “Try being a mediocre novice instead of a star pupil. Be invisible.” 
    Mira took care of her during her youngest years and they had moved around often. “Those around you grow older, child. Your Mira grows older. We must go where no one knows us.” She smiled at the memory. So every village or town they moved to they would start over again. First Mira was her mother. Then her aunt. Then her grandmother. What she remembered most about Mira was the songs. Mira told her that when she sang the songs of her people their spirit would live on. Mira taught her at least one hundred different songs, some very short, and some epic in length which told the story of her family’s history. This was when it was still safe to sing them. Before the presence of the One True Faith was everywhere. “How long since I sang one of your songs, Mira?” She said. “If you were here you would make me sing one right now, wouldn’t you?”
    The light was fading outside and her room growing dimmer. I will have to wait until tomorrow to talk with Tallard about Sia Riada. He can send me on some errand to get me away for the day. Ailish lit a candle on the desk. Then she began to sing.
    
    Home, sweet home, is where I long to be
    Home, dear home in my own country
    For the pine and the laurel, and old sweet gum tree
    Are all waiting for me in my dear old country

    I’m longing for home where my heart can run free
    I’m hoisting my sail and crossing the sea
    For the pine and the laurel, and the old sweet gum tree
    Are all growing green in my own country
    
     She picked up Livro Unon and imagined tearing out one page at a time and setting fire to each one. This religion will burn itself out, but you will live on, Mira’s voice came again. Then you and the other survivors of the Great Cleansing will reemerge and bring peace back to Oparia.
    That had not happened. Over the years she watched the Waarheid faith spread like a burning plague over the land. It was the land that burned. Villages had burned. People had burned. Now I am somewhere where I cannot even burn this damned book! I’m so tired of this game. She sang on,

    Home, sweet home is waiting for me
    My lover, my friends, and my whole family
    They are watching and waiting for me just to be
    Safe and sound in my own country

Ailish shoved the Livro Unon away from her.

Author's Note

Looking for comments on plot and characterization. Also style and anywhere when I need more/less description. Do we need to know what Ailish looks like at this point?

Reviews

[HobbyWriter]

I think the interplay between evil religion and the nonbeliever hiding within its ranks is superb. You have obviously created a complicated political/religious world, but I think explaining more here would be too much. I like how you present the world here. We can learn more about the world around the characters as they go. Great job. There were a few phrases here and there that could be polished a little, but you have crafted a fabulous beginning. Love it!

[James Marino]

Thanks for reading. Much more to come. It took me a while to get it to this point, and I did not want to get too bogged down in 'telling' so it's nice to know that I might have the right balance here.

[Alexander B. Kerri]

The tale is not just good, it is great. There is already so much whimsical imagery I can account for in this story of yours. It is a very great one, and I am looking forward to reading more. I've just begun reading your work and it is utterly amazing how you put so much of everything into this one story. It is a marvellous piece of work and I hope you make it to the big life my friend.

[James Marino]

Those are very kind words. Thank you, and thanks for taking the time to read. I've taken this to a local writing group who have been a great help so far but I'm looking for wider feedback. This is my first attempt at "epic fantasy" fiction and as a fan of the genre I want to do it justice.