In the gentle light of dawn, the girl emerges from the room, her once beautiful, bright-colored robes now stained a deep, gruesome red. Her weapon is heavy with pieces of flesh and dripping with blood.
As she steps outside, the house suddenly catches fire behind her, flames licking the walls and engulfing the structure. Unperturbed, she begins to walk towards a solitary frozen tree in the distance, leaving a trail of blood in the fresh snow.
Arriving at the tree, she looks behind it to find a thick layer of snow covering the ground. With a solemn expression, she raises her weapon and speaks in a commanding voice, her words echoing through the still morning air.
"I curse you, to use your souls to shield this town from the cold until your souls burn out."
As she utters these words, the blood stains on her clothes and weapon vanish in an instant. The tree before her begins to bloom, its branches unfurling with vibrant life. Behind the tree, the snow melts away, revealing a large, unfrozen lake at its base.
Within the transparent cylinder imbedded at the center of the trunk of the tree, nine small wisps of light appear, each representing one of the men she had just condemned. The lake shimmers with an otherworldly glow, a testament to the curse she has placed upon it.
With a final hum of her weapon dragging on the ground, the girl turns away from the scene. Her old priest follows closely behind as they leave the town behind them.
Legend has it that the tree remained in full bloom and the lake unfrozen for two hundred years, a haunting reminder of the girl's wrath and the souls she bound to protect the town from the cold.
*
400 days of pilgrimage passed, I marked my 18th birthday in solitude, accompanied only by the old man who had been my constant companion on this journey. It was a quiet and uneventful day, spent mostly sightseeing in a town that held no significance to me. What a sad way to spend a birthday, I couldn't help but think.
But my thoughts were soon interrupted by the sight of a woman running away from me in fear. Oh, how her fear now amused me. She wasn't so afraid when she sold her sister's daughter to a brothel, was she?
I hummed to myself as I walked towards her, my weapon dragging along the ground behind me. I had named it Spikey, a fitting name for the spikes adorning its metal head. I chuckled to myself at the thought, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction. I may be a little messed up in the head.
The woman stumbled over her own feet in her haste to escape, and I quickened my pace, closing the distance between us. Memories of the prayers the girl had sent before she took her own life flooded my mind, anger stirring within me.
I raised Spikey, the spikes gleaming in the dim light, and brought it down towards the woman with a swift and decisive strike. The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed in the quiet street, followed by a sharp cry of pain from the woman.
She fell to the ground, clutching at the wound on her arm, blood seeping through her fingers. Fear and desperation filled her eyes as she looked up at me, realizing there was no escape.
*
700 days into pilgrimage, I found myself in a noble's home, surrounded by luxurious furnishings and a beautiful mirror that reflected my image back at me. At 19 years old, I couldn't help but admire myself in the mirror. My curly white hair had grown even longer, cascading below my waist when straightened. I twirled around, pleased with the vision of effortless beauty I saw before me.
A soft knock on the door interrupted my self-admiration. This town, I learned, hadn't seen a successful harvest in 30 years, and the dead plants in the room were a testament to the dire yet suspicious situation.
I dressed in the attire of a "daughter of the moon," knowing that only fellow daughters could see my face. Neither priests nor ordinary people, men or women are allowed to see a daughter's face.
I stepped outside into the moonlit night, the full moon casting its glow over the town. The townspeople had gathered around the church fountain, their faces filled with hope and anticipation. I observed the moon's reflection on the rippling water of the fountain, taking a moment to center myself before beginning the ritual.
The ritual was a simple prayer, but with the divine power coursing through me, it became a beacon of light and hope. As I uttered the sacred words, a bright light emanated from the fountain, causing a man to start screaming in agony. Gotcha.
For hours, I continued the ritual, channeling my divine energy to purify the environment tainted by blood magic. The townspeople watched in awe as the light grew brighter and brighter, dispelling the dark energy that had plagued their land.
Finally, as the first light of dawn approached, the ritual was complete. The man who had practiced blood magic lay unconscious, the dark aura around him dissipating. The townspeople cheered and thanked me, grateful for the purification of their environment.
Deciding to stay a few more days to ensure the environment fully recovered, I reflected on the events of the night. This was just another day in the life of a saintess. Sigh.
*
Today is the final day of my 800-day pilgrimage , I found myself standing in the Pope's prayer room, staring at the statue of the goddess. The exhaustion and frustration of the past two years bubbled up within me, and I couldn't help but glare at the stone figure.
"You really overworked me, you know," I muttered, half expecting the statue to respond. The Pope entered the room, dressed in his regal attire, and stood in front of me.
"Whoa, I completely forgot you're THE pope, Gramps. You were looking a little raggedy these past couple of years," I remarked, earning a playful slap on the back of my head. I stuck out my tongue in response, but he scolded me for that too. No fun.
Hours passed, and as the moon rose in the sky, we performed the final ritual to release me from my duties as a "daughter of the moon." The Pope chanted in a divine language that would make the average person's ears bleed. When it was over, a light enveloped me, and I felt the weight of my title lift from my shoulders.
"Don't be too sad, Gramps. I'll make sure to come visit until you get sick of me," I said, trying to lighten the mood. He simply nodded, and we made our way out of the prayer room. The priests and daughters bowed as we passed, their eyes downcast in reverence for the Pope's presence. I forget he's such a magnificent figure not just my gramps.
We walked through the magnificent Cathedral, the light reflecting off the crystal pillars creating a dazzling display. Eventually, we entered a large room filled with stone pillars, each adorned with a portrait and a corresponding item encased in glass below.
We stopped before a portrait of a handsome man with blonde hair and blue eyes, holding a sword. Beside it, in the glass case, was a great sword with the same handle as depicted in the portrait.
"Gramps, is that you? Weren't you quite the looker," I teased, but he quickly moved to another pillar but I saw his pink ears. Curious, I followed and found a portrait of a "daughter of the moon" with blue eyes, holding a spiked metal rod.
"This is the Hall of Fame of the Church of Moonlight. Significant figures in our history are immortalized here," the Pope explained.
I gazed at my portrait, feeling a mix of pride and doubt. Had I truly done enough to deserve this honor? The Pope sensed my thoughts and flicked my forehead gently.
"I know what you're thinking, but your actions have brought hope to the hopeless and increased our congregants fivefold. You've been a symbol of the goddess' care and compassion, more than you realize," he said.
"Thank you, Gramps. It's been a privilege," I replied, bowing slightly. He returned the gesture.
I placed Spikey, my weapon, and the crystal headpiece on the stone pedestal, watching as glass encased them. With a final farewell to my trusted companions, I left the hall with the Pope by my side.
As we walked, I couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability of walking without my face covered. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over me, and the next thing I knew, I was in my room at the villa.
The familiar surroundings comforted me, and I quickly changed into comfortable shorts and a shirt(stolen from Nikolai's wardrobe).Exhaustion washed over me, and I collapsed onto the bed.
As I drifted off, I mentally thanked Gramps for his parting gift, knowing that he had used a great deal of energy to teleport me back to the villa. The silence of the empty house surrounded me, informing me the boys are not around. I fall into dreamless deep sleep.