Remnants Of The Sun Page 8

  “It was my Mother’s thing. You can’t eat meat, you can't drink at all.” Sonja shook her head. “It just alienated everyone in the wagon train.”

  “So the previous Keeper was your Mother?” She asked.

  “Not my true mother. She adopted me and a few others. But I guess in a way since she was the one that brought me up and taught me everything I knew, and apparently loved me dearly despite it all, she is as true a mother as you can get.”

  “How young were you when you were adopted? Do you remember what it was like before?”

  “Enough to know how horrible it was,” Sonja said, draining her glass. “Anyway this is not the fun conversation I was hoping to get from you.”

  Sigrun raised her eyebrows. “Is that something you wanted?”

  Sonja grabbed the bottle and poured another glass. “It’s just that I don’t want to remember back then, it was horrible, and whatever else my Mother did, I am eternally grateful that she saved me from it and put me on a different path.”

  “I’m not going to force you to say anything you don’t want. But I will say, for some weird reason I want to get to know you more than have fun with you,” Sigrun said, sipping on her drink. “Like I’m not going to lie, I've had many casual flings with a lot of women, and those usually start with fun and flirty conversations. But for you...that feels wrong.”

  “I understand, I didn’t actually mean it, I feel the same way. You might not know this but my relationships with women have mostly been...transactional.”

  Sonja looked down at the ground in shame. Sigrun didn’t totally know what she was ashamed of, but she could guess. The faith had told her that who she loved was wrong in some way. She leant forward and held Sonja’s hand.

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  Sonja glanced up at her. “Are you sure about that? What if I told you that all my relationships with women were paid for?”

  “Getting paid, damn I should have thought of that.”

  Sonja laughed, and took a sip of her drink.

  The two of them were still holding hands. Neither of them moved away from each other, it seemed that they both wanted to stay there, feeling each other. Unfortunately, Sigrun had drunk all her whiskey. She didn’t want to break the embrace, but her mouth had gone very dry and she felt very nervous all of a sudden. She wasn’t usually nervous when speaking to a woman, could even say she was way too forward when it came to pursuing what she wanted, but for Sonja it was different. Sigrun wanted Sonja to not be put off of her.

  She unclasped her hands and picked up the whiskey bottle. The two of them sat back, but there was a change in the air, like they had gotten closer in some way.

  The two sipped their drinks, staring at each other. Neither of them spoke or made another move. It felt like a dance where they didn’t totally know the positions they needed to be in or the flow of the music. Should they talk more, or should they do what they wanted to do deep down: kiss passionately.

  Sonja was the one to break the silence. “Do you believe in Sol?”

  “I used to, but not much anymore. There was a time that I prayed for Sol but she did not answer.”

  Now it was her turn to not want to think about the past negatively. But Sonja seemed to understand the hurt that lay behind her words, as she asked. “Did something horrible happen that Sol did nothing about?”

  Sigrun nodded. “How do you know?”

  “As a Priestess I had to stand in various market squares telling everyone how wonderful Sol was and how she would eventually appear in the sky. Most ignored us, but there were a few that got really angry at us, like getting in your face almost ready to punch you anger. At first I didn’t understand it, but then I started to internalize what they shouted at me. They would shout about how they prayed for their son to get better but Sol never healed them, how they prayed to have a better marriage or to find someone special but it never materialized. Usually people just live their life thinking Sol exists, but the ones that truly go against the idea, the ones that have no faith or truly hate it, are the ones that have had some kind of tragedy or sadness in their lives that Sol failed to prevent.”

  “It was my mother,” Sigrun said, softly. “She had some kind of disease that no one knew how to cure. I remember in the last days she was lying in bed, her face gaunt, and the smell was as if a dead cow was still in the stables.” She drank her glass of whiskey, feeling a dull pain inside. “I remember every night seeing her get weaker and weaker, praying to Sol to get rid of that illness, desperately crying out for her to heal her. But she never did, and my mother died.”

  Sonja leant over, and held Sigrun’s hand again. It felt soft, comforting. Even though her glass was empty again, she didn’t want to break away from that embrace.

  “I mean, I’m sorry to say, but what’s the point of your faith if Sol can’t affect things?” Sigrun said, bitterly. “She isn’t in the sky, she’s dead even by your reckoning, so I get that she can’t really be here to do everything. But isn’t her being dead the same as if she doesn’t exist? Why do you pray to her, and fight for her?”

  Sonja gazed into her eyes. “I feel that she does affect things, but since she isn’t in the sky anymore it can only be small. I feel in my heart that she brought my mother into the town I was in to adopt me. Sol nudges us down paths, shows us the true ways of things, gives us a purpose in life.”

  “I’ve been wanting a purpose in my life for some time. I can’t deny that I’ve felt empty and despondent in the last few months. Parties and drinking just doesn’t feel that void.”

  “Yes you are right, drinking doesn’t fulfill you. But I wouldn’t get rid of parties, if done right they bring people together. That’s what my Mission wants to do, unify people.”

  “I’m afraid I just can’t be in your Mission. They would hate what I am, what I do.”

  Sonja squeezed her hand. “If they knew about me, what I’m doing now, they would hate it. They would exile me in an instant. I hope to change that, maybe then you might be confident enough to join.”

  Sigrun gazed into Sonja's eyes, seeing how serious she was. It didn’t make any sense why Sonja was within a faith that hated her, but she did know that if anyone would change their attitude it would be her.

  As she gazed into Sonja’s brown eyes, her heart beat faster and faster. A desire rushed through her veins. She leant over, and kissed Sonja.

  It was as electrifying and passionate as it had been when they first met, maybe even more so. Sigrun leaned into it, grabbing hold of Sonja. She wanted to take off that robe, fling her onto the bed.

  Sonja pushed her away.

  Sigrun lay back, a little confused and hurt. Sonja was catching her breath. “It’s not that I don’t want it...it just can’t be now.”“Why not?”

  “Because many people saw me come into your wagon and I think they’ll expect me to come out again. And I’m not doing some quick thing with you. I’m done with transactional love.”

  Sigrun understood, but still felt crushed and disappointed. “When will we see each other again, when will we be able to...spend the night. Isn’t this always going to be a problem that people might see us or find out?”

  Sonja looked at her sadly. “Maybe, but I want to be with you so I want to try to make it work. Maybe we will just have to sneak around at night for a bit. But I promise that I will change my Mission enough that they will accept who I love, and then we can be out in the open.”

  “I look forward to that day,” Sigrun said, getting up and brushing her hair back.

  She helped Sonja up from the armchair. The two of them stood close to one another awkwardly. Sigrun’s heart was telling her to kiss her again, and be damned with the consequences, but she didn’t want to go against Sonja’s wishes. If they were going to have a good relationship Sigrun would need to respect her wishes, even if they pained her.

  In the end, she hugged Sonja. “I will be counting down the days until I see you again.”

  Sonja beamed.
“I will be doing the same. I believe that Sol will allow me to see you soon.”

  “Can you refer me to her, cause I’d like to book tomorrow night if possible.”

  Sonja laughed, which brought joy in Sigrun’s heart, one that she hadn’t felt since her mother had been alive.

  Sonja opened the door, gave her one final look, and stepped outside. The door closed, and Sigrun was left on her own, feeling the sense of joy and excitement but also feeling a deep sense of sadness as well. She sat down, and finished the last drops of the whiskey bottle.

  Part Two

  Build Up Of Light

  CAST THE TORCH WITHIN TO BANISH YOUR OWN SHADOW

  ‘Scroll of Commandment’

  After the get-together with Sigrun, Sonja walked back into the Mission enclave in a daze again. All her mind, body, and heart thought about Sigrun’s face, her blond hair, her earthy smell. She wanted to go back to feel that hair, inhale that smell. It felt like her whole body was screaming to get more, but she couldn’t follow it.

  Priestesses and Priests watched her as walked. All her movements were observed by the faithful and the non faithful alike. Every time she said something or did something people would talk about it. If she went back to the Jarl’s wagon again, spent the night with Sigrun, than they would know about her being gay. She felt that the faith wouldn’t be able to handle that. She had to change it.

  The deeper Sonja walked the more of a crowd gathered around. Many faithful seemed to want the same as the farmers in Bonde Square: the sign of Sol, and a prayer. Sonja wondered how her mother lived having to do this everyday, but she remembered that for the most part her mother didn’t come out of the Keeper’s wagon and when she did she had a few Priestesses guarding her and moving the crowd along. Maybe she should get some bodyguards?

  After the tenth Sol sign and prayer, she was glad that the next people to come up to her were her three friends. But her happiness was tempered by the fact they looked at her with concern.

  “What is wrong,” she asked.

  “Are the rumors true?” Britta said, furrowing her brow.

  Sonja’s heart leaped for a second, had people figured out what had happened between her and Sigrun? “What rumors?”

  “That you told the farmers they could have a party here, with alcohol,” Britta replied, putting as much disdain on the last words as she could.

  Sonja sighed with relief. “Yes I did say that, and I will tell the faithful why.”

  Britta looked confused. “Partying and drinking is against our teachings, what are you doing?”

  Sonja glanced at her other friends. Roose had concern on her face, while Teresa was glancing between her and Britta like she wasn’t too sure who she should pick. She had to be delicate here, she didn’t want to lose her friends.

  “I feel it might be best if I explain it to everyone. But after I do, you can come to me in the wagon and we can discuss your individual concerns.”

  Britta looked like she wanted to say more, but she nodded her head. The three of them turned around and melted back into the crowd. Sonja felt a little uneasy with how furious Britta seemed about letting farmers drink. What if the other faithful would be like that? What if her mother had drilled the idea of extreme purity in so much that even the idea of a party full of drinking was too much for them. If they couldn’t handle that they definitely wouldn’t be able to handle her feelings for women. What if she was just doing all this work for nothing?

  She shook her head, at least she had to try before being exiled. Even if it didn’t work at least she could put her head up high and say she had a go.

  She told the crowd that she would be speaking at the Keeper’s wagon, and that they should gather the rest of the faithful. The crowd dispersed quickly, which gave her a few moments of peace and quiet. She walked past the training grounds, a large cart full of gravel, with poles in the centre to attack. A few Priestesses were training their sword skills, making quick strikes at the pole. Sonja couldn’t help but look at them like she had in the past, she loved to look at women moving their muscles and making a sweat. But instead of looking at the Priestesses that were training now, she imagined Sigrun in their place. She imagined Sigrun’s thick arms holding a sword, striking fast, looking back at her smiling.

  A heat rose up in Sonja’s face, and she strode across the grass to cool off. Was this what the other women felt like in their relationships with men? Was she in love?

  Thankfully there were a few yellow robed Priest’s and Priestesses sat at the pews to distract her from her feelings towards Sigrun. She had to be focused in this speech, she couldn’t have an image of Sigrun popping into her head distracting her. This speech would be the first test of whether she could really be a Keeper that changed the faith.

  The Priests and Priestesses stood up and bowed. She gave them the Sol sign and nodded her head. She walked through the pews, and ascended the stairs to the podium. She waited, looking out at the seats that were slowly being filled by the faithful. All the men and women who sat down looked up at her in awe and expectation, it felt familiar to the stares she had when her name had been announced as Keeper. She had to close her eyes and banish the feeling of wanting to run away again.

  She focused instead of what she was going to say. What was she telling the faithful, how would she make them understand that purity was a harmful force for them? The answer that came to her, like a light that shone from the Sol Shard, was to reveal her struggles. Not all of them, she didn’t feel the faithful could accept all of her at the moment, but enough to make them understand that their Keeper wasn’t the perfect pure person they thought she was.

  Soon the pews were filled up with Priests, Priestesses, and Acolytes. Her friends sat at the front. Roose and Teresa looked up at her in the same way the others did, full of awe and respect, but Britta brows were furrowed and her arms were folded. It looked like it would take some convincing for her to get on board. Sonja hoped that she could.

  A silence fell over the crowd, the wind blew through grass and the wagons creaked. Sonja felt her heart beat faster and her mouth go dry. She coughed, and began.

  “First of all I’d like to apologize for not doing this sooner. I really should have come up on this podium the first day I was named and show what the faith would be like with me as Keeper. But the reason I didn’t do that, the reason I ran away instead was because I was troubled.”

  There were a few murmurs of confusion and shock at that statement. Most Keepers didn’t highlight their troubles and flaws, most just talked about the importance of unity and how they saw the faith going forwards.

  “The reason why I ran away is because I didn’t feel worthy of the title. My mother was a great Keeper to all of you, she strengthened this faith and gave you all a purpose and a goal in life, how could anyone follow that? But that isn’t the true reason why I felt I didn’t deserve it, you would understand that, maybe some of you even thought that was the case, and when I came back you pushed it out of your minds, something that could be forgiven. No, the real reason I didn’t feel worthy is because I felt I was too full of shadow.”

  Now there were audible gasps from the crowd. No one admitted their shadow out loud, no one admitted they had any shadow because they had to be seen to be pure. A normal Keeper might have paused at this, felt they had gone too far, but Sonja had wanted this, had wanted to shock them a little. Through that shock, she could change their viewpoints. She became confident and sure of her speech.

  “Yes, I am full of shadow. I didn’t like to admit it, in fact I felt ashamed about it, but I cannot deny it is a part of me. You see when I was a teenager I heard about the feasts and the dancing, and I wanted to go. Maybe many of you have felt that same urge, well the difference is I acted upon it. One night I tiptoed out of the wagon and found one of these parties. I let loose, drinking, eating, and dancing as much as I could. But some of you might just chalk that up to being a teenager, wanting to sample the delights of shadow before going on the path of the
light. I’m afraid, however, it didn’t stop at just one party.”

  “Every month or so I would sneak out of the wagon and enjoy the delights of those parties. Whenever we would go to a new town and city I would try to find their gatherings. In the moment of drinking and dancing I felt free, it felt like I had broken away from a prison. But the morning after I felt ashamed. The things I was doing at those parties were the exact things that the faith, my mother, said were wrong. I tried to be better, I tried to push those feelings out of my system. Sometimes I would succeed, going two months maybe even three without partying, but I would always succumb in the end. That feeling of freedom was just too intoxicating, too joyous.”

  Sonja could see that many of the faces in the crowd had become either confused or shocked. She glanced at Britta, who had such fury on her face that she faltered in her speech for a moment. There was a deep dark feeling inside that told her that when she finished this speech, her and Britta would no longer be friends.

  She breathed in and rallied herself, this was more important than their relationship. This was to change the faith, to allow her to be the person she always was.

  “Now you may be wondering why I’m speaking to you about this, some of you may think that because of this shadow that I do not deserve to be Keeper. Well this is exactly what I felt when I ran away. But the reason why I came back, and the reason I accepted being Keeper, is that I had the sudden realization that my feelings were not wrong. Now yes, I can admit that I gave into my desires too many times, but I don’t think the desires was wrong.”

  “For what does Keeper Isabelle say in the Scroll of Foundation: ‘I saw a giant yellow sun in the sky, and it shone down below on a magnificent garden. The trees were leafy and vibrantly green, and their bark was a deep brown. Birds fluttered within branches, and small animals rushed within the similarly vibrant green grass. Many of my faithful were within this garden, sitting on benches. They held mugs of ale, and feasted on a wide range of food. They seemed to beckon me inwards. When I did the person next to me said that this was all given to them by Sol, that now Sol was back in the sky the earth was a paradise, and that they could enjoy themselves with ale and food forever.’”