The House

♣️ The Beginning of an Era ♣️

"A quarter to one, Syris." Paster Moro states casually, beginning to clean up the community kitchen in preparation for the public diner that will be open tonight from the church, "You should hurry up to the bell tower, young thing."

I look up from the text I had been examining for the thousandth time, wondering if I had missed something in the ancient sketches or words. There always seemed to be more than what met the eye with these things... and I always seemed to surprise myself when I came back to the same text with a fresh mind. This one had been stumping me for a while though... I felt like I was missing something...

Something in my eyes must have given me away, as Paster Moro softly chuckled to himself.

"You always have your nose in those books." He shakes his head, a smile blooming on the old man's face. "It amazes me how someone so young could be so interested in things like that... cooped up inside and away from the world. I struggle to get young folks in here for a few hours as it is, but you always seem to be aching for more."

I adjust my glasses as I look at him, collecting myself as I close the book.

"Maybe that's why I'm your apprentice and not them." I respond sharply, but in a playful manner. He chuckles at my response.

It is a factual statement. Not many young people are interested in wasting their lives away in a divine church... But the lore of it had always enticed me. There seemed to be so much more to the religion than I ever could have known otherwise, and so, I enjoy my status. As well as my access to the archives, most of which are off limits to the public.

He waves me off, and that is when I set my book down, getting up from my seat and adjusting my robes before heading out into the main chapel. In case anyone is lurking around, I have to look sharp and professional... Don't want to give the church bad image. In truth, I don't care too much about my appearance... But I have been training for so long, and it's not worth it to discard all my hard work be appearing sloppy.

My footsteps echo against the solid floor, the sound ringing through the pews and finding its way into the beautiful high ceiling. It was pretty, but in an eerie way.

I make my way over to the bell tower, scaling the many flights of stairs to accomplish one of my many daily tasks. Ringing the church bells every sixty minutes in order to mark the start of a new hour. Father Moro always had an incredible sense of time... and I think that mine measures up pretty well. 

There isn't any fancy technology around our town... Even though we have gotten word of progress in the cities. Something called a newspaper showed up a month or two ago. Not many people can read around here, not that it contained anything of merit. Just news of a show and some other trivial things.

I reach the top of the bell tower faster than normal, which gives me the opportunity to look out over the rolling fields. Most are bare at the moment, as the farmers are preparing to plant their crop for the approaching summer. My eyes trail off the ground and into the sky, judging the sun as my way of telling the time.

When that time is around when I was waiting for, I pick up the cotton and clay ear plugs that Moro has given me and prepare myself. I wait another few moments before taking the thick rope in my hands, giving it one strong tug to ring the bells in order to alert the people of town. The muffled sound shakes the air around me a little, but I try not to mind it.

... And then someone grabs my shoulders and rattles me just as I did to the bells.

My body locks up for a moment, before I drag myself back to reality, turning to look at the giggling face of my closest friend as I pull the plugs out of my ears.

Lillian has such a silly grin on her face as she lets me go. Her white apron is stained a multitude of different shades, most likely from foraging out in the distant woods. That all is too much work for me, as I'd much rather stay indoors... locked away in the catacombs of knowledge beneath the church. Especially considering how lengthy her auburn hair is! It's certainly cute, tied in both the front and back with little white bows whist her bangs framed her freckled face, but cute in my mind doesn't outweigh inconvenient. 

Still, her cheery laugh brought a smile to my face.

"Now what are you doing here?" I tease, pulling on her cheek gently in a friendly manner as she chuckles, trying to bat my hand off of her playfully.

"Whaaaat? Is it such a crime to visit my bestest friend of all times?"

"It is when you're trespassing on church property!" I can't contain my laughter, so I'm glad when she giggles along.

And then another set of hands grapple onto my arm, which causes Lillian to choke on her own laughter as I practically jump out of my skin. 

I turn to who I presume is mister tall-dark-and-spooky, our only other friend.

I am correct.

"Damn it, Keith!" I snap, pulling one of my gloves off to smack at him playfully, "You can't just sneak up on a girl like that!"

My false outrage causes him to snicker a little as he defends himself from my barrage of hits. I've never heard a full laugh come from mister black-hair-don't-care before, but I can take what I can get. His dark hair and dark eyes stand in stark contrast to his sickly pale skin, on top of that, he is a tall, lanky ghoul of a man. It comes as no surprise that he was pretty much an outcast from the first day he moved into our little town... But that never stopped Lily, and I eventually warmed up to him as well.

"Oh, but I think I can." He responds to my scolding, his voice deep and smooth as he taunts me. If I didn't know him as well as I do, I would find that tone very unsettling.

I glance over his shoulder, something catching my eye as a smirk grows on my face.

"Let Lily braid your hair again?"

"I- Urm... Shut up!"

"Is there flowers in it this time?"

"That was a one time thing!" He deflects, a small dash of color emerging on his face.

"Awww..." Lillian joins in, having finally collected herself. She puffs her cheeks out a little. "Is Kiki embarrassed?"

If his face wasn't hot before, then it definitely is now. I don't need to be touching his tomato red skin to know that. My smile softens as I am reminded how lucky I am to have them in such simple moments like this.

A light breeze flows into the tower. For a moment, I ponder whether or not it brings relief to Keith's face, which looks like it's about to burst into flames, although less so than a moment ago... but then... it doesn't stop.

A raging wind begins to fill the tower, so powerful that the bell begins to chime again. I snap my hands over my ears, the roar of this strange wind, the raw bell sounds, and the feeling of everything I'm wearing along with my hair caught in the gust quickly overwhelming me.

I get to my knees in a feeble attempt to stop my robes from whipping around so manically.

That's when the searing pain began... It was all through my body... But mostly in my hands. It felt as though someone was plunging hot daggers through my flesh... only to peel the wounds open to add salt...

I probably screamed... not that I could hear myself. As I wildly squinted around, I could see my friends going through this as well... Lillian was shaking as she held herself, clearly in the same agony as Keith and I, though... Keith was holding his hands in front of him. His pain was the same as mine.

It felt like a long time before the wind had passed and the worst was over... the pain slowly dying out.

I couldn't bring myself to move... or speak. That power... It felt... divine. Not that I had ever witnessed divine power, much less experienced it. There was just something so otherworldly about that force... It can't just be me thinking that... 

... But why would the divine power of our world be brought down upon three young people who hadn't been doing wrong..?

A scream rang out through the tower before I had time to ponder it more, as Lillian grabbed my wrist, ripping my arm away from my head.

"Oh my stars, Syris, your hand!" She exclaims, clutching my ungloved hand with wide, wild, olive eyes.

It takes me a moment to even process her yells enough to look down at what has her so rilled up, but once I do, I fear my eyes may be just as wide as her own.

...There was a symbol on the back of my hand. One I had only seen in old readings... One that has been missing from the mortal stage for three centuries...

Staring back at me was an ominous black club.

... And to tell the truth... It terrified me...