Every Little Memory

Entry #7: Bittersweet

I would rather be anywhere but here, the Church of Fennarie. The monks and priests here all worship the goddess, Fennarie. She is their guiding light in the darkness, setting the path of destiny before them. Priests tell of how she created this world and all that exists within it. I have heard them preach to the masses, urging people to respect her as our mother and creator. Everyone believes, for the most part. She is their greatest treasure. All they do is done in her name. 

I lost faith in Fennarie long ago. It is told that she is benevolent, kind, and sees all as equals. We are her children and thus she spoils us rotten, answers our prayers, gives to us, so long as we believe in her. If she is as benevolent as the church claims, why did they execute my kin? Why was their—no, our—existence a crime? If she put us on this planet, why did she so desperately want to remove us? Why give us the gift of sight if it is considered an abomination?

I find myself in the church itself, nestled in the village I once lived near. The place where my kin were executed. Oh, that's another reason why I hate this place. My parents, friends, neighbors, were not given swift, painless deaths. No, they were tortured without mercy, their suffering long and harsh. I remember hearing their screams and cries, begging their captors to end their lives before they suffered any more.

But this visit is different. There are no people in sight. The chapel is quiet and empty. The entire building is made of white marble, from the arched ceiling to the tiles on the floor. Rows of pews lead up to a simple altar, with the statue of a woman behind it. I walk up the aisle, eying the statue. She is dressed in a white dress. A simple outfit that still manages to make her appear majestic. Her arms are spread wide, as if she was adressing a mass of people. Her cold, stone eyes watch me, as if she were placing judgment on me. Her gaze makes my blood boil.

"Do not look at me so! You cruel woman!" I shout, rage burning through my system. Calm yourself, Anima, this is a memory. No one can see or hear you.

When I collect myself, I hear shouts coming from the church's inner hallways. Curious, I walk in the direction the sound came from. The hallway door is propped open, leading to narrow corridors that seem to stretch on endlessly. I round a corner and come to a halt in some form of library. Large shelves filled with old tomes hide the marble walls from view. A large window beams sunlight into the room, making visible the particles of dust floating in the air. A desk stands in the room, covered in papers.

There are a multitude of people in this room: a sizeable amount of guardsmen, a young man, and a young woman. The girl couldn't be older than sixteen, still so young. A soldier is firmly grasping her shoulders, making sure she doesn't escape. The boy, perhaps my age, is struggling against the two soldiers trying to restrain him.

"No! You can't take my sister!" he shouts angrily, dark eyes burning with hatred.

"Look, for the thousandth time, we're sorry Joshua. It's the head priest's orders," one of the soldiers replies, sounding less than sympathetic. His tone sounds more like he wishes to end whatever is going on here. 

The boy, Joshua, looks so distraught, angry, and desperate. He is dressed in white and purple cleric's robes, so he must work at the church. Light brown hair falls to his shoulders, well-combed. His black eyes are burning with the fires of rage.

His younger sister has similar hair, only much longer, falling to her waist. Tears are streaming down her fair face, and she is shivering. She is wearing a simple blue dress, torn at the sleeve by one of the soldiers. This girl looks so delicate, as if she were a fragile doll ready to break at any moment. The soldier restraining her even seems to be holding her firmly, but with as little force as possible. I wonder if she is sickly? What are these soldiers planning on doing to the poor girl?

"Joshua, please, just let them take me. I don't want you to be injured because of me! "she cries, choking back sobs.

"Alida! You can't mean that!"

"Listen to reason, boy. Let her go. If you do, you won't be arrested for hiding a Seer." Huh, this makes sense. They're planning on executing the poor girl. The church just won't stop until they've destroyed us all.

"Please, brother. Stop fighting!"

"You saw what they did to all those other Seers! They killed them all!" he retorts, tears shimmering in his eyes. I can feel my eyes burning with tears as well. I feel so guilty, being a living Seer while the others are dead. What's it called? "Survivor's Guilt"?

"You don't think I know that?  I'm sorry!" she shouts.

"Come on, take her away guys," the soldier restraining Joshua mentions. The others nod, and begin lead her out of the room.

Before exiting, she says, "I'm sorry, brother. I love you. Farewell." Her face is resolute, as if she could walk into a fiery pit and not be afraid. I admire her courage, or at least her ability to put on a straight face.

Joshua falls to his knees, sobs coursing through his body. I wish I could do something, walk up and comfort him. I understand how he feels, after all. It pains my heart to know that his sister was not one of the people who escaped with Rory and me. A feel a single tear fall down my cheek. Yes, I am a guilty survivor, no doubt about it.

It is bittersweet. I am happy to have escaped with my brother and to be able to continue living. But I am sad to know that my parents, friends, neighbors, are dead. People who were sisters, brothers, parents, loved ones, all gone. People whose faces I knew, faces that smiled at me every day. They will never smile at me again.

One of the guardsmen frowns down at Joshua and sternly says, "Come on, you. Get back to work."

I want to shout at the man; he just lost his sister for goodness sake! Give some time to mourn in peace! 

I am thrust from the memory, overwhelmed by guilt.

----------------------

A/N: Theme #7 was "Bittersweet". I have no idea what color that is. I do know that 'bittersweet' is an experience that is both good and bad. I tried to show that through Anima's guilt.