Chapter Text
"What do you have to offer the order?"
Feet planted firmly in resolve, the Shadow Cleric lifted her chin to meet his gaze through her long bangs.
"You've seen it yourself, Zed," she replied firmly. "Did you forget my skill already?"
The man that stood by Zed's side, donning black hair with a blue streak, stepped forward with angry, furrowed eyebrows, voice booming over the entire hall. "How dare you address him so informally!"
"How dare you assume I did not receive permission," she snapped back, visibly seething at him. "You don't know me, boy."
He stammered incredulously, crossing his arms. "Boy?!"
"Kala'naah, I think you're being a little aggressive with my body, there..."
"Hush! Do you want into this Order of yours or not?"
"...fine. I will follow your lead."
Rowena--her body, at least--flipped some of her hair over her shoulder and returned her gaze to Zed, her eyes flashing violet beneath her hair.
"Shall I demonstrate once again?"
Rowena grumbled as the light peeked in through her bedroom window. She rolled over in the other direction and pulled her blanket over her head again, desperately wishing that she could go back to sleep.
That wasn't going to happen.
The wound on her forehead twitched, trying to open despite the sutures holding it in place. She grumbled in discomfort, knowing that one of her "grandparents" would be by to clean it and bring her breakfast. This was the only life she had ever known, and she didn't question it. Despite her intelligence, she was still a child; her brain most certainly wouldn't have been able to begin to understand the intricacies that went into the way she lived.
"Rowena! Are you just now waking up?"
She rolled her eyes at the sound of the voice. Of course it was her, the strictest of her "grandmothers". She wished she could just crawl back into bed and hide; maybe if she did, she would leave.
"Oh, get up, lazy bones!" the woman chided, tossing the blanket off of her. Rowena had withdrawn into her nightgown, poking her head out at the sudden burst of cold air.
"Ah!"
"You've slept long enough! The sun is already out!"
She suppressed her grumble, knowing that she would only be chided for "talking back". "Yes, Ms. Rui."
"Good. Now get in there and eat your oatmeal already." her tone was stern with a hint of irritation.
Rowena slinked to the main room, lost in thought. Ms. Rui's plain oatmeal... yay.
No matter how many times it had been done, she still cringed when one of her grandparents cleaned her stitches. It was such an odd wound: dead in the center of her forehead, always weeping clear fluid, and her stitches would be reapplied every so often. It twitched in her sleep, and many times she had awoken to it feeling dry and crusty.
As odd as her life was, this was Rowena's normal. She'd been found by a member of the village at such a young age, presumably abandoned during the conflict, and this life was all she could remember. She knew nothing outside of the home she was confined to, but she did know one thing: there was knowledge in books. Mr. Flavius had told her that, though she still couldn't figure out how to read. The few books that were in her little hut were dusty old healing tomes.
"Ms. Rui," she whispered, her head still tilted upwards as her stitches were cleaned.
"What? What is it?"
"Can you teach me how to read?"
The elderly woman paused her ministrations and stared down at Rowena with an undiscernible expression. This must be it! I can finally learn how to read!
Instead, the noise that came out was a condescending laugh, making her face fall in defeat.
"You have no need to learn how to read. We do everything for you," she replied simply, returning to the wound.
Hours alone turned into days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years. The only socialization she would receive was during meal times, when a grandparent would come by the hut to make sure she ate and that her wound was cleaned. Rowena had no idea what she even looked like; among their multitude of rules, one that was always meant to be followed was "No mirrors in the hut".
She began to teach herself how to read when in private. There were a measly three books in her hut--all healing tomes that required linguistics far beyond her understanding. With no guide work, she began to ask inconspicuous questions. If they would not allow her to read, she would approach the lenient grandparents with innocent questions instead.
"What's this symbol?" she asked, tracing a shape onto the dining table.
"Looks like the letter 'E'," Mr. Flavius replied.
"What does that do?"
"It helps make words."
He looked around, almost to make sure that none of the others were around as he spoke.
"Okay, I can explain a little, but do not tell any of the others," he explained. "Especially not Ms. Rui. She has a temper, that one..."
"A what?"
"She gets mad."
"Oh. Yeah. She does."
His groundwork was enough to get Rowena started, though she didn't understand what any of it meant. She found herself repeating words and short sentences without so much as an inkling of the true meaning.
"Stan-cy," she whispered under her breath, trying to pronounce "stance". "Stancy, stancy... mee-d..."
The word "medical" stared at her, taunting her. It had an "e" in it! Why couldn't she figure it out?!
The hut opened, and she recognized the voice of Mr. Flavius calling out to her for lunch. She returned the tome to the shelf, following the dust outline to make sure she lined it up properly, and scurried into the main room.
"There you are. I brought you something," he greeted, reaching into his coat. His eyes were wide with excitement, and Rowena cocked her head with curiosity. She had no idea what it could be; More comfortable clothes? I've grown some, lately...
Instead, he pulled out a stack of small books and handed them to her. As she examined them, she realized that she was looking at a small bundle of children's books and an alphabet guide.
"Books...?" was all she could choke out, overcome by his generosity.
"Make sure you hide these," he explained seriously, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Do not tell the others. Personally, I... I think everyone deserves an education."
She cocked her head at him, and he clarified, "Learning. Everyone deserves to learn."
CRASH!
"Ahh!"
Rowena jolted upright from her sleep at the sound of thunder, heart racing. Her hyperventilating slowed into calmer breaths as she realized that it was just a storm.
I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm...
She drew her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly as she tried to comfort herself. She had never known comfort in stressful times, only panickedly trying to calm herself down as best as a scared child could. She pulled the blanket over her head to block out any remaining light, shivering underneath it.
The dark is safe... Shadows will never hurt me... My home, my safe place...
CRASH!! Another loud clap of thunder. Rowena squealed and rushed to her closet, stumbling and tripping as she refused to remove the blanket from around her body.
She crawled all the way to the back, hiding as far within it as possible, and in complete darkness, she covered her ears and shook for what felt like hours.
In her panic, the only thing Rowena could think to do was recall information. She’d re-read the tomes over and over again, enough that she had many of the spells memorized. They never seemed to work; she assumed she just didn’t have the ability to be a cleric.
“B-Blessed be my heart, blessed be my soul…” she stammered shakily, trying to fight the hyperventilation with speech. “Blessed be my light, a-always to guide me h-home…”
Nothing, as usual. She sighed in disdain and repeated the chant with more assertion.
“Blessed be my heart—“
CRASH!
“Eep!”
She buried her face in her arms, shivering alone in the dark. The dark would become known as her only safe refuge—her home.
“Ms. Rui?”
The stern woman looked up from her book, a hint of annoyance on her face. Rowena was nearly certain she had picked up reading as a form of a taunt; she had never seen her grandmother carry around a book until the day she refused to allow Rowena to learn herself.
“What?”
“What about math? Can I learn math?”
Rowena held firm as she asked, her gaze one that showed that she was set in her resolve. The few books Mr. Flavius brought by had opened her eyes to a world outside of this place, and she felt like she was only held back now by the algebraic equations hidden within the spellbooks.
“What’s so important about math that you need to know? The basics are all that’s necessary for you.”
“But when I can stand on my own so to speak, I’ll be leaving this hut, right? There are some things I need to know.”
Ms. Rui pondered her words for a moment before finally closing her book.
“Fine. I suppose ten is old enough to learn math. Don’t ask me for any more favors.”
Once more, time passed in the blink of an eye. Rowena began to get used to the near-constant thunderstorms, though she would still find comfort in the darkness.
“Blessed be my heart, blessed be my soul, blessed be my light to always guide me home…”
She had become accustomed to muttering the spell to calm herself down, never expecting it to actually work . She wasn’t sure what changed this time, but out of nowhere, her hands flickered to life, lighting the blanket cocoon and allowing her to see.
“Light…” was all she could mutter, staring at her glowing hands. “…light! I made light!” She jumped up and squealed, doing a little happy dance. “I did it! Gods above, I really did it!”
Rowena lifted her hands to inspect her illuminated palms. They radiated a soft violet glow, making her veins and tendons shine under her skin; they shook as she stared, still in disbelief that she was finally able to cast a spell.
It must have awakened, she thought to herself, balling them into fists and flexing them every which way she could think of. Now, I can read at night, too.
The storms continued for what seemed like months. She had become used to them, now watching out her small bedroom window when she heard the telltale pitter-patter of rain.
Her view was small: she could only see a couple of the other homes in the small village, and the very faint outline of a mountain during the day. She wondered what secrets lie in the frozen mountaintop, or if she would ever even see it for herself.
As of late, Rowena had been contemplating. At her current age—twelve—her grandparents no longer checked in throughout the night. It was hers alone to do as she pleased, though her time mostly consisted of re-reading her small book collection.
Would they notice if I left and came back before the sun came up?
She supposed that the cacophony of sound from the thunderstorm would be enough to drown out the sounds of her escape—that is, as long as she was careful . She couldn’t be seen when she did, and if Ms. Rui was the one that caught her, she would be in for a stern lecture. She may even return to being monitored at night. That can't happen.
She had been memorizing their coming and going patterns for months now under the guise of night. None of them left their homes once the lights went out other than town farmer, and he wouldn’t wake for another few hours yet.
This is my chance. I want to see what’s out there.
Rowena was unaware of what the conditions would be like outside of being wet . She wasn’t even aware of what the thunder boom in the sky truly was; all she knew was that it was loud .
She had no shoes—no need for them, Ms. Rui had said—so she simply wrapped herself in a blanket, muttered her spell to illuminate her hands, and ever-so hesitantly snuck out the back door of the hut.
The sight before her astounded her; she had only been able to look out of the tiny window of her room. She didn’t realize that behind the village lay a long, man-made path leading up to a large group of structures and trees in the distance. It was obscured by the rain, but she could make out the vague shapes that lay beyond.
Since she had never left her hut, the only way she could describe it to herself was “a bigger village”. She wondered what it was like there; maybe it was similar to the books Mr. Flavius had brought her! Maybe it’s like that pretty place! What was it called? Ionia?
Under the camouflage of the thunderstorm, Rowena began to dance. Her blanket became abandoned in the mud and she took in the feeling of the rain falling down her face and earth between her toes. She felt loose. She felt free .
That was when her escape plan began.