Before, he was in the darkness, now, he was in the light with blinded eyes. The smell smelless and his sense of touch was triggerless.
"Hubert," a voice called out. But he recognized the voice, familiar and oppressive, with a bit of sarcasm to the side and a narcissistic behavior to top it off. The voice of someone who was above him.
His master, Anna, the white priestess, had arrived.
"Priestess," Hubert greeted while dropping to his knees, his face facing down, bowing.
"Rise," Anna commanded.
"Yes, priestess," Hubert said, obeying her word and setting his back upright.
Only then did the light subsided from Hubert's sight. She was, as usual, beautiful and distinguished, her aura like a beacon of light among the dirt of this world, of which she was unembellished and undefiled by it.
"I've been greatly disappointed in you, Hubert. Knocked out in just a week? You are my servant, are you not?" Anna said, her tone full of disgust and degrading.
"Ye-yes," Hubert replied, facing downward in shame.
"..." Anna stared at him, her eyes straight and sharp like an arrowhead.
She lifted up her hand, her fingers delicate and her movement gracious, and flicked it.
Hubert's back glowed in purple, the shine pierced through multiple layers of his clothing. An electrifying jolt came from the mark on his back, the jolt like the edge of a sharp sword slicing through his flesh over and over.
His nape hair rose, his muscles wriggled, his body shook and trembled, the pain was unbearable. Raging on, he fell to his knees, enduring all the pain with his teeth gritted and his fist clenched while his veins popped out.
The jolt went on.
"Pri-priestess, have m-mercy," Hubert cried out, his voice barely coming out.
The priestess looked over him, then flicked her fingers once again.
Upon the second flick, the pain diminished, dying out before it was then nowhere to be felt. He fell to the endless white floor, and gasps of air came as his lungs expanded and retracted, desperate for air. Sweat drenched his uniform, and his eyes turned almost white.
"There will be no next time, Hubert. Disappoint me, and you'll find out the consequences," Anna said, her tone slightly pressed as she knelt down, as if threatening Hubert.
"Besides, you haven't forgotten your purpose here, right?" Anna asked, now standing up.
"N-o ha… ha… priestess," his words cut, struggling as he said.
"Good. It's been twenty days since you came to the academy, the day has come for your assignment, given by Sir Tristan himself. Hubert, you are to act naturally as a student of the academy in your duty, let not your cover be blown out," Anna said, introducing him to the mission.
"This is the direct message of Sir Tristan. Hubert Gubert, member of the church, faithful servant of mine. Your mission is in no way easy, but with perseverance, you shall prevail. There has been talk of corruption from the staff of the directory of Kexer Special Academy; the staff has colluded with personnel of the church, bringing in uncountable losses not only to the church's financial quarter but also threatening its righteousness and greatness. I instruct you, investigate any information of the said staff, deal with it as you see fit. May the Goddess be with you," Anna mentioned, akin to reading a letter.
"Hubert, all the available information will be provided for you by the church. Keep your end of the promise and the benevolent church will keep its end," Anna continued, her tone slightly threatening.
Hubert slowly supported himself up, his gasping for air reduced, and beads of sweat stopped trickling down his already drenched and oily face.
"Ye…s priestess," he affirmed. His eyes, though exhausted and tired, were resolute and blazed with a will.
"Your hand," Anna exclaimed, her voice like a shout full of disgust.
"What?" Hubert asked, confused of what the short command meant.
"Tch, open your glove and give me your hand, the one with the church's mark," Anna asked commandingly, slightly agitated.
Hubert, now understanding, opened his glove and extended his right hand. One where the mark of the slave, the V with a circle around it, was branded with a hot iron onto him.
The white priestess grabbed his arm, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, gripping. Anna closed her eyes, then her lips moved, but her voice was trapped in her throat.
Hubert watched on as he felt Anna's hand tightly gripping his wrist. Her fingers were gloved, but he knew based on their shape that they were beautiful. Her arm wasn't fat, nor was it thin, and her skin seemed soft as silk and smooth as milk.
Her hair, silky and white, and her eyebrows were white as snow, her ear covered by it. Her eyelids were layered, doubled, and her cheeks were of perfect proportion. Her nose was petite and small, and her lips were thin but kissable.
She wasn't like those who were found at the side of the streets or in the slums. She was certainly unlike those who slutted and sold their bodies to the nobles of the kingdom.
Instead, she was dressed modestly and covered, but elegant in her own sense.
Before, she was like someone untouchable by Hubert. Someone Hubert saw from a distance while working, someone he thought over when asked by his friends who was the fairest among them all.
Now, he stood in front of her, his hand grabbed by hers.
She was beautiful.
Words couldn't describe her, even if it tried.
Soon, his cheeks turned light pink, blushing, and sweat trickled down his forehead. He tried looking around, avoiding filling his vision with her beauty. But everytime he did so, he failed.
"Don't move so much," Anna said, commanding, her eyes closed and she continued chanting.
Only then Hubert nailed his attention to her attractive lips. He noticed, what her lips muttered wasn't that of a chanting of a spell, but like a prayer and it was coming to an end.
"Dea, da vires, non erravit agnus, sed da sancta sana - Goddess, give me your strength, let not your lamb go astray, but give it the holy heal it needs," Anna prayed.
And his hand shone a bright white light. Hubert felt itchy, as if something in his hand was worming. His flesh, once burnt, slowly appeared from the shallow crevasse of the mark. The progress was weird, but it was worth.
The mark disappeared, filled by new, regenerated fleshes. The mark was gone.
"How…?" Hubert, shocked, asked. It was a miracle.
"By the grace of the Goddess, you are ridden of your mark. As I mentioned, Hubert, I have promised you freedom, and I intend to keep my promise," Anna said.
It was the first time Hubert saw Anna, the white priestess, as someone who was not deceitful and scheming. But as someone who was truthful and admirable.
"Than-thank you, priestess," he said. His tone filled with admiration, gratitude and likeness, mixed with each other.
"It is nothing to me, but… how long do you intend to keep hold of my hand?" Anna mentioned.
Then his eyes looked at where their hand had conjoined with one another. She had released her grip since long ago while subconsciously and unrealizedly had placed his fingers around hers.
"Ah, sorry," embarrassed, he released his grip over hers.
"Ha, I'm sorry too, Hubert. I might be your master but it is not in my moral to treat you harshly. Still, don't fail me," Anna told, her tone slightly guilty.
"Yes… master," Hubert said, acknowledging.
Anna's eyes widened, surprised. Her cheeks blushed while her face turned away, hiding the redness.
"Ye-yes, then, go, your mission is still long, may the Goddess be with you," she hurriedly commanded.
In seconds, the whiteness around him was replaced by the familiar darkness of his room. At this point, he was indecisive of which felt better. Anna was nowhere to be found and so was the bird from before.
But there was something that greeted him upon his return. That something was a scroll that sat neatly on his bedside table, beside it, a tall candle which he hadn't placed before.
He approached the file, knowing that this was the information mentioned by Anna before.
"Burn after reading," Hubert read the top line of the paper after unscrolling it.
Then he examined the content.
Vice hall master of the fourth learning hall, Javarius Quantavious.
Affinity: Nature
Age: 39
Hairstyle: Yellow Mohawk
Body: Muscular
Skin: Brown, Tanned
Javarius Quantavious, vice hall master of the fourth learning hall, in charge of magic. Most would mistake him for someone of the body artist, but his affinity to nature led him to the path of being a magician, close to that of an ancient dryad.
But his wickedness is hidden from the whole world. He served as a third party of the church's fund embezzlement from corrupt members of the church. Forgery of documents, money laundering, and the harming of the church's holy investigator.
Hubert, find proof of his embezzlement, and dispose of him as you see fit, the latest date of which is your graduation.
Keep your identity hidden.
May the Goddess be with you.