27th of Gnielm, 334 EA
Peyr Myarsa
For Mepka, being alone in the cabin was not nearly the same as being alone in the wilderness. There was a disquiet to the place, like it might tell her mother of any secret thing she did sitting in its guts. Still, by herself for the first time in weeks, Mepka couldn’t help but call out her word.
“Ahtr’ul” She swept hands over the course of her figure. Where they passed she faded from existence ever so slightly, ever so briefly. The call allowed her a moment of peace, to feel as though she was there and not here. She called out for that moment again, and again, and again.
A strange sense broke her from this roll, tendrils of an approach. Her core knotted, and in an instant she willed away the echo of aether fog that had swirled in comfort around her.
A moment passed in tension. Estrid flitted in past the cabin’s doorway curtain first, with a look equal parts panic and elation. Two figures swept in behind her, a biting woman and a caustic man. Recognition pooled in Mepka’s view of the High Abbess of Reclamation and the High Abbot of Consternation, governors of the city of Peyr and most holy of the Conservators of Myarsa. Their presence sucked the air from her lungs, choking her on decay and dread.
The abbess Niolett spoke first, her voice silken spite. “Mepka, so good to see you again.”
“Yes,” Mepka stammered under the weight of their focus, “Yes certainly. It has been some time since you have come for temple mass.”
The abbot Anzaw’s lip twitched at the reply, prompting a shared glance from his wife. Their connection cemented Mepka’s unease.
“Yes, well. It seems as though the same can be said for you.” Niolett’s gaze swept off of Mepka in seeming disinterest. “What excuse do you have for your absence today?”
Mepka glanced over to Estrid with a look of worry.
“Your holiness,” Estrid took up the call for aid, “We thought it best that my daughter keep to a private penance.”
Mepka took a subtle step back to place her mother at the forefront.
“And why might that be, dear Estrid?” The abbess’ inquisition drew the faintest of cruel smiles from the abbot, leaning back against the doorway.
“Considering her,” Estrid wracked for a word, “circumstances.”
Mepka gritted against the moment, but kept quiet in light of the panic she felt.
“Her continued sacrilege, you mean?” Anzaw rose in a voice like untreated iron.
“I don’t know if I would-“
“We would, Estrid. We really would.” Niolett interrupted. “There is not a need for you to contradict us.”
“Be glad, woman, for the grace we’ve extended to you.” Anzaw underpinned his wife’s statement. “Expect now to display faith in kind.”
Mepka’s focus bounced between her mother and the abbots. “Grace? What are you talking about?”
The abbess ran her fingernails over the wooden table at the center of the room. “Your kindly mother has shown humble penance in her labor here. She has been invited to return to the comforts of Peyr.”
Estrid’s eyes shown hopefully.
“We’re going back to Peyr?” Mepka’s felt herself spinning out.
“You’ll be going nowhere.” Anzaw cut in, “One family member, paltry as she may be, is enough consolation to ensure your father’s continued agreeance.”
“My father did this?” Mepka’s mind cinched on encompassing resentment coupled against intense relief at the thought of being left alone.
“Highest abbot, please, I beg of you. My husband will surely work better with the knowledge of his child’s safety. He needs us. You need us, if you have any hope of-“, Her mother cupped nervous hands at her heart, but in the midst of the pleading Mepka saw only vulgar light filtering off of Niolett’s fingers.
“Lu’byke Guasyr”, Niolett called a set of words, and Estrid’s veiling statement cut in her throat to a gurgling of choked water.
Mepka rushed to her heaving mother’s side. Her eyes trained in fear on the abbots.
Niolette leaned over to meet Estrid’s hunched field of vision, “The decision has been made, Estrid. You will come, and she will stay. Now, tell me you understand the wisdom of our path set for you and yours.”
The water poured from Estrid’s mouth with a distinct lack of pretense or dignity.
“Stop this! Stop this now!” Mepka howled.
In a terrifying flash, Anzaw clapped an armored mitt down on her shoulder to yank her away. “Stay out of this, wretch.”
Mepka felt power flow up her arm, her hand moving instinctually to the point where Anzaw held her.
“Ahtr’ul” Her word rang openly through her touch, and in a burst of aether the gauntlet holding her dented inwards. Anzaw grunted out in guttural surprise, releasing her and shifting to his back foot. The reverberations of her spell sucked all else out of focus.
Niolett turned sharply, flicking away her held incantation. Estrid sputtered from her knees, sucking in deeply drawn air.
“That,” Niolett rolled out in an unsettling hush, “is a very interesting word.”
Anzaw slammed back into attention, smacking Mepka across the face and sending her tumbling. The rotted boards of the cabin floor cracked under her impact. The Conservators stood together over her prone form. Mepka looked up at them, the visage of her mother framed behind.
“Well. It seems your wish may be granted after all, Estrid. She’ll most certainly be coming with us.” Niolett’s smile pierced.
“No.” Mepka’s mind raced through panic into desperation.
Estrid looked at her daughter woefully overwhelmed. In a despairing bid for escape, Mepka scrabbled towards the open doorway.
Anzaw drew his mangled hand in her direction, and commanded a gritted tone. “Comrir Soihs’nunnehv“
Every muscle in her body tensed, and then went limp. The will to move was pushed into deep recess. Anzaw unsheathed his sword, a long tarnished blade, flipping it in his grip. The hilt of it struck the back of her head, and the world shattered away into unconsciousness.
The Etra Anthology 