The Temple of the Maiden Thrice
1009
Aureya
Nestled in the high columns of the temple the main pool stretched to the very edge of the stony cliffs. Falling away into the sea and sky, there are more than a few pilgrims resting outside today. Visitors seeking the healing waters that flowed from the natural springs of the ancient mountain. Home to the Temple of the Maiden Thrice.
Aureya wades through the reception pool. Bearing cups of herbal tea, those gathering and basking in the morning sunlight. The elder priestesses are inside, attending to a longtime devotee and benefactor. Most of the temple’s guests are here to mend their souls, the peaceful view more important than any magic the waters might hold. Aureya keeps her eyes to the water, this pool, though mundane, glittered still, paved with shining tiles. A mosaic geometric and sacred, and ancient. She loves the feel of each stone square beneath her bare feet and keeps her mind balanced between her duty and attempting to never linger with anyone for too long.
It takes pilgrims time to get over their initial distrust of her. For some, more than a few visits to the temple. Only time would help them accept that she would always be there. Aureya tries to channel the tranquility of her goddess, and practices forgiveness frequently. She hopes by her actions they can perceive the truth of her character. Or at least that they can choose to ignore her, and most did. She pauses only to pull her veil higher, nearly covering the upturned curve of the horns.
The robes of an acolyte conceal almost all of her offensive features, but she keeps the veil on which is commonly only worn for more sacred duties than this.
This summer seems busier than others, she thinks as she reaches the edge of the pool. Nearest the gate and courtyard. Only to look up just as a wagon arrives in a hurry. Spilling from it a goblin couple and a boy perhaps around her age. She meets his eyes briefly as he half steps and is half carried from the vehicle. They are wide and blue like the pools and in their depths, Aureya feels his pain and fear. Here is someone who needs more than tea, and she runs to find the High Priestess, Salouis.
Esmund
The travel to the temple from Shepherd’s End seemingly passed by in a blur. Esmund falls in and out of consciousness in his father’s arms while his mother would berate and critique the cart driver either for not being fast enough or being too reckless. He continues waking up throughout the trip with tears welling up as the throbbing of his hand would force him back into the world of the waking, Mulgwuld there to immediately comfort him.
When Esmund is able to pull himself together enough to remain conscious, he recalls the events that took place only one day prior, though only in bits and pieces. He had only wanted to make the fireworks celebration even more extravagant this year. He had done the math and crafted a small device that would let the fireworks travel more elaborately before popping. Neither of his parents wanted him near the explosives however, saying he was too young.
Guess they were right… Esmund thinks to himself, looking at the tightly bound wrappings on his hand, tears of pain and aggravation welling up.
The physicker in training, Ava, was the first on the scene. Before his family left the village, he remembers hearing Teredian compliment her. Despite his pain, Esmund forced himself to remember that when he returns, he owes her the greatest ‘thank you’ he can possibly muster.
Gwin suddenly begins shouting, despite Mulgwud’s insistence that Edmund needed a quieter space, as the cart finally pulled up to the temple. More screaming about how this trip took so much longer than it should have and that the driver was completely out of control. Esmund could barely make out the temple through hazy eyes as he was assisted out of the cart. He had heard about it plenty back home, and had wanted to visit one day, certainly under far different circumstances.
The brain fog clouding Esmund’s mind made it difficult for him to follow everything that was happening, all so quickly. Strangers in robes all began to shuffle out to meet the family at the cart, asking questions that Mulgwud would calmly answer and Gwin began crying from worry and continued to blame the cart driver. They were all led inside where Esmund was pulled away from his parents to be taken towards the healing pools…
Aureya
Aureya tries not to hover, but it is rare that she is included in the more sacred rituals. A pair of older acolytes are chosen to assist and bear the water imbued by the Maiden. Each has a large metal chalice held in their hands that they proudly carry to the priestesses. Aureya is tasked to light the candles of the stone room. She does her duty so slowly. Lingering to witness the miracle of her goddess. Such an opportunity to channel that divinity is rare, but their Maiden’s working is tangible and real. She cannot breathe as the glowing water and its light seems to fill the chamber. The flame in her hands is small and so very mortal, as she waits in the shadows as they pray.
The most fervent ritual of healing begins; his injury, his hand, put into the shining waters. Aureya clasps her own hands, she knows these prayers and urges their Maiden to offer this boy her healing grace. She cannot tear her eyes from the boy and the water until long after the luminance fades and only her candles flicker against the darkness.
When the assisting acolytes turn, to gather more water from the sacred spring, their faces change expressions from beatific supplication to derision. The pair know Aureya is no longer needed and flick their eyes to the door. And though no word is spoken, they shoo her from the healing chamber and its rituals and magics.
When they walk with measured silent steps far enough to be out of earshot, the halfling acolyte shoots Aureya a dark look before hurrying deeper into the temple caves while the other priestess, a still-growing, but quite imposing Dragonborn, crosses her arms and blocks Aureya’s escape.
“You ruined it,” she says harshly. “He would be entirely healed if you hadn’t been there. I heard you mumbling. Your prayers are a distraction to the Maiden. She cannot hear her true servants when a demon profanes her halls.”
“He wasn’t healed?” Aureya asks, her expression suddenly pained. Her mind reeling, that her actions might have caused irreparable harm, “But the waters seemed so powerful, surely one voice can’t …”
The acolytes expression darkens, “You need to heed my words as your senior. Your faith is lacking or else they would have requested your participation. You have a lot to learn, it is obvious that you are not fit to become a priestess.”
The other girl then turns away and heads to the same corridor as the other acolyte. It leads to the sacred spring, an area still off limits to a lesser acolyte like Aureya. She bites her lower lip and casts her eyes to the stone floor. If she ruined that boy’s only chance because of her need to see a miracle. Then her selfishness proves that she is indeed lacking. But surely the Maiden is more than enough to overcome the flaws of her youngest acolyte.
Aureya looks back toward the healing chamber before fleeing down another path, away from the ritual. Her absence now necessary, and hurt and shame replaced the warmth she felt when basking in the light of her goddess.
Esmund
The entire healing event passed by Esmund in bits and pieces. He recalls mumbled prayers, chantings, nothing that he was of sound mind enough to listen and understand however. A large pool of water, lacking any smells or impurities, engulfed his hand as a young kobold priestess guided him through practiced motions, all without speaking directly to him. He could feel his heart in his throat as his nerves barely held together for the unfamiliar experience, wishing his family was here with him rather than these strangers.
Despite his pain and wavering consciousness, he could feel himself attempting to absorb everything happening around him, whether in a vain attempt to understand his surroundings or to push back the building panicked confusion. Questions would pop into his head as quickly as they would disappear. How did the pool have such strong healing properties? Did the incense and candle light help? What about the prayers that are able to summon the healing properties?
There was a dull light that glowed along the surface of the water that grew brighter; the fresh wound of his hand felt as though it was both being burned and gently caressed. This last image, the final sensation, was all that Esmund was able to recall before his waning alertness failed him entirely. As the ritual proceeded, he passed out and remained so until well after everything had finished.
Aureya
The boy is left to convalesce at the temple. His family and the high priestess agree that there was more healing to be done, but not a kind that could regrow lost fingers. Rather instead the sort of healing the temple is very good at, though most found it elusive. Aureya is keenly aware of him as she attends to her duties, and does her best to not affect his continued rest. Yet Salouis seems to only give her tasks that put her in his path.
Aureya tries to mention it to her, alluding to how her presence might be detrimental to his healing and Salouis laughs in her soft and gentle way. Drawing her young charge closer.
“The Maiden works through even the most foreign vessels. You bear her light as much as any of our priestesses. Do not fear the darkness that you have been tasked to carry it into,” and she pats Aureya’s arm in a way both reassuring and putting the subject to rest. “Now bring that boy his tea, and stay to make sure he eats something.”
After that Aureya finds herself clutching a clay bowl filled with rice and vegetables in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. Steeling herself, she leaves the kitchen door and walks straight towards the boy. Determination leaking away with each step closer. But it isn’t until she stands at a bench beside him that he seems to notice her at all. She feels awkward, and she struggles with a small greeting.
“Maidens blessings this day, or … ah… morning,” the words coming out clumsily. She searches his face, for a sign of how to proceed.
Esmund
Two days had since passed once the ritual was complete, with Esmund and his parents being given small living quarters within the temple so as to have time to use the other healing pools. In that time, several of the priestesses had visited the Clockwrights to apologize about “the boy’s missing digits”, which Esmund found himself confused by. While his memory was hazy, he at least was able to recall that Teredian after the surgery that immediately followed up the accident, informed his parents that the damage was too severe to save any fingers and the temple waters would not be as effective in repairing the injury so late after the actual incident. It seemed the priestesses held themselves somewhat responsible for this, though Mulgwud and Gwin expressed only gratitude to anyone that visited.
The priestesses were also surprisingly strict with regard to keeping Esmund to a specific routine. They would only allow him and his family to the healing pools, the kitchen, and their room. They were expressly forbidden from wandering the halls without a chaperone - not following the firm schedule would delay the remaining healing and “be considered quite rude,” as one priestess described in a hush tone Esmund overheard from down a hallway.
As thankful as he was to the temple and its people, he felt himself becoming more restless and bored. He would have loved to explore the structure itself but was confined to his room with its singular window over the gardens when he wasn’t eating or soaking his hand in a pool.
He currently sat alone just outside the kitchen, his parents pulled away to speak with one of the head priestesses, holding his hand as it throbbed with a dull ache. He wondered how Tik and Tok were doing - it was one of the first times they had been left in charge of the Clockwork Heart with no supervision.
I’m sure they’re building something absurd to surprise me with once we get home… Esmund thinks.
A moment later though, his thoughts are interrupted by a bowl sliding in front of him. Startled, he turned his gaze to meet a young girl, no older than himself; the only other person his age that he had seen in what felt like ages. She fumbles a greeting though Esmund doesn’t notice as he looks over the small girl he had seen a few times when walking the halls but never up close. Her skin tone nearly matched his own, though she had a pair of small horns peeking from underneath her headdress.
“Oh um, h-hi!” Esmund suddenly stutters, realizing he was staring much too intensely at someone that just brought him food.
“M-my name is Esmund! Who’re you?” He holds out his hand as a greeting, like his parents had shown him. He then realizes he is holding out his injured hand, thoroughly bandaged, pulling it back quickly and putting out the other hand, his cheeks burning slightly.
Aureya
Aureya tentatively takes his second offered hand in hers. Her eyes meet his and then away again. Surprise that his greeting and interest seems earnest even after noticing her horns. Squeezing his hand as he shakes hers, her movement going contrary to whatever ritual he intended. And without knowing, holding on a moment longer than is polite.
“Oh, I’m Aureya, an acolyte,” she offers, trying to stand a bit straighter, but turning her face down. “Do you mind if … I keep you company. I brought your meal straight from the kitchen, it has some beans we picked earlier. They’re actually really good, but maybe eat the onions first, they’re the worst part. Oh, don’t tell anyone I said that, we must always be thankful. And the tea is tea, it’s still too hot but um… I like it, if you’re lucky they added honey, but not too much, but some. I bet they gave you honey.”
Realizing she is maybe saying too much, she shuts her mouth, forcing herself into the calmness expected of her. She perches on the stone seat next to him. Her fingers twisting the fabric of her robes until she sits on them instead. Giving him time for a few bites before asking a question just after he took a larger mouthful than before.
“They said you might blow away with a stiff breeze if you didn’t eat enough, and the wind gets really strong up here sometimes so if you want you can have my bread roll too,” pulling a small roll from the sleeve of her robes and setting it by his bowl. “Have you been to the meditation gardens yet? Well, maybe not, on account of the wind…”
Esmund
“Hi Aureya the acolyte,” Esmund responds with a wide grin. “Yes! Please stay!” He suddenly blurts out, much louder than he had meant to.
“I-I mean yes, please stay. I’ve been around grownups this whole time and I’m bored. You’re the only other kid I’ve met, so if you don’t mind…” Esmund concludes sheepishly as he begins to wonder if he might be too forceful in trying to speak with someone else his age.
The young girl proceeds to tell him about the food that was prepared and the tea that had been set. He didn’t have the nerve to mention that despite how fresh the produce was, that didn’t save the flavor from the blandness. In that moment he wished for any of the seasonings used at home, he’d even settle for cricket dust, despite its bitterness. He couldn’t help but feel that Aureya seemed envious somehow; Esmund hoping now that the priestesses weren’t treating him and his family too well for the sake of his hand. He takes a larger bite so as to not seem rude or disrespectful when the acolyte says he might blow away and pulls a mystery roll from her sleeve.
Esmund chokes for a moment, hitting his chest to help him cough and the natural light breeze that surrounds him picks up slightly. “I’m not that skinny! I just don’t have a big stomach so I don’t always eat that much.”
“Or wait…is it cuz I’m a wind guy? Heh, that’s funny. Sounds like something O would say,” Esmund wonders aloud. “Um, no one has told me about any gardens. I’ve only been allowed here and the pools. No one lets us go anywhere else but the gardens sound nice! And no I wouldn’t blow away…I think,” he mutters to himself.
Taking a sip of the tea, he notices the slight sweetness to it and looks back to the acolyte and notes the envy again. He motions the cup towards her and asks, “Would you like some? I can never finish drinking tea before it gets cold and then it’s just gross. Same with the food too! It’s always too much for me and I hate wasting it, so you’d be helping me out!”
Aureya
Aureya can’t contain her laugh at the sudden breeze, realizing that by repeating what the older priestesses mentioned in passing, might actually have been a different observation entirely.
“I didn’t mean,” she stammers. “I mean, you definitely won’t blow away. It’s just that, for healing … the food will help.” Her eyes staring a bit too long at the green beans.
by Jessica DruThen more shyly, “If you don’t finish everything, I can help. Then there’s no waste. They really did give you some of the best bits,” she adds encouragingly.
But when Esmund nudges the tea closer to her, she tears the bread roll in two. Offering him half before taking a small sip from his tea. Her face shines as she finds that they did give him honey. She sits and savors the sweetness, her eyes closed and face up to the sun.
Struggling to not have more than the smallest share of his meal, half worried another priestess will catch her taking food from someone in their care. She does, however, drink a full half of his tea. Only when the meal is finished and she’s returned the bowls to the kitchen does she take his uninjured hand in hers and pull him down a stone paved path.
“The garden is a bit of a climb, but it is only really used for sunrise and sunset guided meditations and prayers. I don’t think anyone will mind,” smiling back at him as she winds along the trail with practiced steps.
Carved pillars and hewn rock, ancient and worn, line the path. The further from the temple’s main gates, the greater its age shows. It surely stood for a millennia, and reached far into the mountains once upon a time. Now courtyards and fountains are lost in overgrown forest or crumbling ruins. But to Aureya’s eyes its beauty is only enhanced as the natural world comes to embrace it once more. And to bring someone with her, imagining how their eyes see her home, makes it feel like an adventure. And excitedly she shares things she knows and things she imagines about the winding pathway up.
Esmund
Esmund watches as the young priestess, with some reserve, accepts the shared food and tea. He thought it was strange for someone to be so apprehensive about eating food but was doing his best to not let loose his curiosity and barrel over this new acquaintance with questions and come off as rude. He was honestly just thrilled to have someone to talk with.
With their shared meal finished, Aureya led Esmund through the halls of the temple explaining that they would visit the garden. The break in routine he had become accustomed to was enough of an excuse for Esmund to have a goofy smile across his face as they walked. The small history lesson was an excellent bonus as well; he listened intently as Aureya explained the carvings of the walls and pillars and the brief history that she could recall off the top of her head. He found her enthusiasm contagious and could not help but stare throughout the halls. If he weren’t being led directly, he surely would have become lost ten times over trying to navigate this section of the temple.
With the halls and their history, he had questions bubbling up with nearly every fact or detail. Once the two children reach the gardens, however, Esmund is left truly speechless. Ancient fountains, decrepit courtyards, partially crumbled columns; each piece of history that could tell hundreds of tales; absorbed and taken over by time and nature. It all was wild with mismatching flowers and fauna, yet, it seemed maintained in such a way as to allow for exactly that. While the overgrowth would never take over the full temple, it had certainly laid claim in this place - a balance of respect and care. When a harsh wind breezes over them, Esmund smells the air of this place and realizes that he had not been properly outdoors in days. Perhaps that is what led to his feeling cramped and uncomfortable after only being at the temple for a couple of days.
Aureya leads the way towards a bench sequestered behind a large tree that provides optimal shade from the sun overhead. Esmund takes a seat beside her and closes his eyes as he listens to the wind for the first time in quite a while. In that moment, nothing exists aside from him and the gentle gust crafting music through the branches and leaves of the gardens.
He opens his eyes slowly and stares directly at a flower bush in front of them. “Thank you,” he pipes up. “I didn’t realize how much I wanted to be here. I-I feel…I mean this is the best I’ve felt in days now. It’s great up here…”
An awkward moment passes, Esmund feeling a tinge of heat in his ears as he wonders if he was coming off as strange to this new person. Desperate to break the tension, he attempts to start a conversation. “I-I’ve seen you in town sometimes I think; from really far away though. You’re usually with the priestesses and seem busy helping them with the older or sick townspeople.”
“Do you uh…I mean are your parents priestesses too? I don’t think I’ve seen any others that look like you…”
Aureya
Sharing her place of refuge with someone else, fills Aureya with pride. Her love of the temple, but also for these special hiding spots, is something she can’t often share. The other priestesses seem to prefer the temple proper, their focus on duty and the guests. Aureya hadn’t been sure she was doing the right thing, until seeing the weight fall from Esmund’s shoulders. The cloud handing over him seems to dissipate with the wind, and his whole demeanor brightens.
“I’m glad you like it here,” she smiles at him, noting the color in his cheeks, but attributing it to the restorative effects of the temple.
Aureya freezes up when he asks about her parents, about her heritage, waiting for him to realize what he noticed, exactly what her features mean. Then she grows anxious that if she tells the truth, it will scare away the first possible friend she’s ever met. And she struggles for how to best explain it. To warn him without pushing him away. To pretend like it’s a simple thing.
“Oh, no, I don’t know my parents, but they wouldn’t look like me anyway,” she starts, quietly. “It’s okay though, Salouis took me in, I’ve always been here at the temple. I’m so lucky because not many places would take in a tiefling, so…”
She felt like a stone, bloodless and cold, waiting for him to react. Bracing her heart for the immediate rejection, or for the fear and hate. For the worst of it to be over with already, so she could reassure him that she’s harmless and devoted to the goddess and then maybe he would let her stay.
Esmund
“Oh,” is all that he is able to formulate as an immediate response.
A tiefling. Stories tell of destruction wrought upon the communities that took them in. They were ill-omens when born and would grow to decimate the world if left unchecked. Their horns burn as though they were wreathed in magma and they have teeth sharp enough to easily pierce the toughest of armors.
What the stories didn’t tell was how they could also be thoughtful enough to share secret gardens. Express kindness and intrigue in retelling the stories they grew up with. Show sadness in their eyes as they anticipate the worst from people they meet. How they, too, can not know who their birth parents are…
Based on the stories he was raised on, Esmund knows what his next move should be. He should run. Hide! Find a warrior who can save him from the monster! Yet he remains completely still. His mind yells that he should flee but his instincts say he will be fine. He had never listened to his impulses before, instead always calculating how to proceed, treating every situation like an equation to be solved. Why was this interaction so different?
Esmund steels himself, gulping hard, before stuttering, “Oh! I-I mean of course you are! A tiefling I mean, of course you’re a tiefling…
“N-not that it’s a bad thing that is! I mean it is sort of…but only in the stories I’ve heard!” Esmund can hear himself fumbling over his own words, trying to backtrack his statement and simultaneously reiterate a point that he hasn’t gotten to yet. His face is burning hot and he cannot get himself to just stop talking. He should have run.
“B-but you know, they’re only kids stories, who even likes kids stories? Haha not me, n-no kids stories are usually boring and pretty inaccurate of actual events and also super not scary and very wrong in their descriptions of monsters. Not that tieflings are monsters but you already knew that seeing as you aren’t a monster and who would know what you are better than you am I right?”
Esmund is standing by this point and breathing heavily and sweating, in spite of his natural breeze that generally does a decent job of keeping him dry. His ears and cheeks are dark purple and he knows he has made a fool of himself. Never in his short life had he been subjugated to an interaction that went as poorly as this has.
He sighs deeply and falls to his back on the ground and tries to let some color drain away from his face. “Sorry…” he spoke. “I uh…I’ve never met a tiefling before. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t know how to…”
Pausing to collect his thoughts for a moment longer, Esmund reorients by sitting up and looking up to the girl in front of him. “I didn’t know my parents either. Not a lot of people realize but I’m not actually a goblin,” he concludes with an awkward wink and a smirk.
Aureya
She waits and watches him as realization settles in, followed by a barrage of emotions dancing over his face, many not usually associated with discovery of a tiefling. She recognizes the fear, and panic, and shrinks into herself. Willing herself smaller, and then words begin to tumble from him. But it’s confusing, she knows just her being a tiefling scares him, she knows that she is a monster, but he keeps trying to explain himself. But his face turns a new color and he is working himself up to a pique. Aureya watches with growing concern, certain that she’ll need to run and find a priestess. When he suddenly collapses to the ground and she nearly screams.
The high priestess was so wrong to put her in his path, she ruined his ritual and now scared him to death. And if nothing else would convince them to kick her out of the temple, this surely will. Emotion clenches tight in her chest as she rushes to her knees next to him.
Only for the young boy to sit right back up. Somehow entirely collected and much calmer, his face a handbreadth from hers, quipping a joke. Aureya’s sob breaks free as emotion floods her. Without thinking she hugs him. A laugh and a cry war for dominance, leaving Aureya to feel stupid and scared and relieved all at once. But it’s shock at her behavior that wins as she scrambles back from him.
“I thought … hic … that I scared you to death,” she manages to squeak out as she tries to stifle the nervous crying, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm. “You’ve already been through so much and I had to …hic… take you up here and scare you. And then hug you… I’m so sorry. It’s not the right way … for a priestess to behave. I’m really …not … good at this.”
Taking deep breaths, she stares at the ground between them. Willing herself calm again, to be the acolyte, servant and helper again. Esmund is here to be healed, not to have her embarrass them both by putting him in an awkward position. He doesn’t owe her anything, and yet he offers this small truth about himself. That he’s an orphan too. And it gives her reason to hope.
“You are more blue than most goblins I’ve seen,” she says softly, questions begin trickling into her mind as the fear retreats. “Did someone leave you on a doorstep, too? I wonder about who they are sometimes, but then think they’re probably better off.”
Esmund
The hug from Aureya caught him off guard and the burst of tears only compounded that initial shock. Unsure of what to do he moves his hand to embrace her in kind but she pulls away before his arm fully wraps around her. She explains, through sporadic tears, that she thought he’d died and Esmund can only feel his face burn up slightly at causing the confusion in the first place.
As she continues, Esmund searches his person for a rag to give her. Mulgwud always told him to never leave the house without a rag; granted, that was generally engineering related advice but there’s no reason it couldn’t apply here. Fortunately, he had one in his back pocket before the accident and it seemed to make its way along for the trip. Unfortunately, it was entirely covered in grease stains for all but a singular corner. He holds it toward her awkwardly and explains, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. This is a lil dirty but if you need a rag…”
Esmund readjusts so he is now sitting on his knees beside the gently crying acolyte. “I think you’re a good priestess. You’ve been helping even if not directly right? And also this has been the best I’ve felt in days! So, you know, don’t be too mean to yourself. Besides, I feel like I’ve gotten to know you better than any of the other priestesses and I like you plenty so far!”
His ears burn hotter as he attempts to comfort her. He didn’t want to make things worse but was also having a harder time looking her directly in the eyes. “So, you know, thanks. For bringing me here today…”
Clearing his throat loudly, Esmund turns his body away to look back towards the garden. “A doorstep probably would’ve been safer. My family says they found me on the edge of a river way outside of town. So they just kinda picked me up and kept me. I wonder about my parents too. If they’re okay or if I had any brothers or sisters. But I also don’t want to worry my actual family so I try not to think about it too much…”
In this moment, Esmund feels that he and this young girl have a connection that he has never been able to share with anyone else. The feeling of loss and mystery of things that could have been. This was a link that he didn’t want to lose.
“Hey you should come to school the next time you’re in town. I can introduce you to my other friends and my sisters and some of the stuff my family builds at the workshop! Oh and you like food right? My mom can make you some food and you can eat with us!”
Aureya
Hesitantly she takes the offered ‘rag’ from him, presses the cleanest corner to her face. At the strange smell of oil and grease and metal, she scrunches up her nose and tries to discreetly just hold the cloth instead. She watches him as he looks anywhere but at her, only to quickly avert her gaze when he turns back to her.
“I can’t seem to do anything right, but I really am trying to help,” she assures him. “Like, maybe… you tell me if you’re hurting, or if something is bothering you, and I can do something. All the other priestesses seem to know what everyone needs, but I still have to be told, and I’m already praying for you…”
But his reassurances seem to break through the layers of defense she’s building. And she embraces what he’s offering and her growing curiosity instead. Esmund is someone sort of like her, with the same questions and wonders and what ifs.
“Really?” She’s almost shocked at his invitation. Her presence is mostly tolerated, but never encouraged in town.
Only then does Salouis and a goblin woman, Esmund’s mother, appear around the corner. As if they’d been searching for the pair, but the High Priestess doesn’t seem worried, more that she knew exactly where Aureya would be and took her time bringing Gwyn. But one pale eyebrow arches at the blotchy red of Aureya’s face, and the twigs stuck in the back of Esmund’s hair. She steps around the two, as if to show off the small garden.
“Ah, the meditation is key to recovery and rejuvenating the mind, you see, after a convalescence,” she nods sagely to Esmund’s mother.
Aureya turns to Esmund, and whispers, “Fold your legs like this, and put your hands like this. Meditation really can be helpful…”
Esmund
Esmund attempts to imitate Aureya’s motions, following her quick guidance but appears instead to perform a sort of mock presentation. His legs don’t lie as flat as hers and his bandaged hand bulges awkwardly and prevents him from executing the precise gestures. “Oh um, yep. My uh, hand? Feels very healed up now,” Esmund announces to try and convince the adults.
“Wait, meditation is for your head right?” Esmund whispers back to Aureya. She only responds with a confused look and cocked eyebrow.
“I mean my head is healed up-cleared up! Which means my hand can heal all the better now. Thanks to Aureya for showing me how and bringing me to this super awesome place!” he concludes with a desperate smile. Surely this would be enough to keep Aureya in the priestesses’ good graces.
Gwin appears thoroughly unconvinced so Esmund instead moves to take her by the hand and lead her to some of the flora he took interest in earlier. Describing the comfortable breeze and the smells of the garden; in spite of her worry for his health, Gwin finds herself smiling along and asking questions about what they were looking at, infected by Esmund’s enthusiasm.
While Gwin is distracted, Esmund glances back and sees the head priestess speaking with Aureya quietly. She did not appear to be getting admonished but Esmund felt himself worried based on what she had spoken of earlier. He wanted to make sure that everyone knew he wanted her around and that she deserved to be included. Aureya seemed hesitant at his invitation about joining for dinner or meeting his friends earlier and didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. A plan quickly formed in his mind that he decided now would be the best time to act on. What was O always saying - It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to get permission? Well he would just have to apologize to her later…
“Hey mom,” Esmund exclaims loudly enough so that the two acolytes could clearly hear him. “So I was talking with my new friend Aureya earlier and was telling her about the town and your awesome food and invited her for dinner and she said yes so when can she come over?”
Gwin is taken aback by the sudden outburst, her eyes cutting between her adopted son and the young acolyte. “Oh, well uh, sweety, I don’t know. I suppose I would need to uh, speak with Salouis first?” Her gaze turns up towards the head priestess, who quickly hides a knowing smirk and merely bows her head with a practiced nod. “Well,” Gwin sighs, “we can work out the details another time I suppose. We should go for now, however. You’re already late for your next dip in the healing waters.
The pair move to leave but Gwyn stops before Aureya, taking her hand. “Thank you for looking after my boy. He really does seem to be better today, so truly thank you. And don’t you worry, we’ll get you a proper home cooked meal soon, you have my word.”
They resume their walk, marching through the stone hallways. As they reach a corner, Esmund hears footsteps approaching and initiates the final phase of his plan. With blood rushing through his cheeks, he turns on his heel and takes a deep breath before shouting, “Thanks again Aureya! I hope you’ll keep helping with my healing! Let’s have dinner together tonight too if you can!”
His shouts echo through the halls as he turns to continue walking with his mother, hand in hand. Gwin is noticeably surprised with both embarrassment and confusion contorting her face. Moreso as they cross paths with the priestesses Esmund heard around the corner. She apologizes for her son’s behavior as they walk past with shocked expressions. “He knows better than to yell in the hallways, I’m so sorry. I-I’ll speak with him after our next healing session is finished…” she mumbles, picking up pace to remove herself from the mortifying scene as she begins a long discussion about etiquette and respect with Esmund.
Aureya
Aureya realizes all too late that Esmund has a plan, well something sort of resembling a plan. Loudly, and obviously telling his mother and the High Priestess how much Aureya helped him. She wants to refute his claims, that he’s saying too much and over-exaggerating. Knowing with certainty she hasn’t helped all that much. But as he carries on, she resolves that she will help. And the first step is to go along with his plan.
“Meditation does not seem to be suitable for this young man,” Salouis observes, and Aureya can only nod. “Yet he looks remarkably improved.”
Aureya watches Esmund for a moment, realizing that the High Priestess is right. There’s color in his cheeks and a brightness to his eyes, and if he’s in pain, it’s less so than before. And a new breeze eddies around the garden, following in his wake. Up here, right now, he’s more alive than he has been the last few days. She thinks to herself, that must be a sign that he’s healing.
Salouis leans in close and asks quietly, when Esmund and Gwin are out of earshot, “Would you like to see him next time we are in town?”
Aureya looks at her feet and nods, “Yes, please. I think, maybe, we can be friends.”
“Being around another your age would be beneficial,” she considers. “Perhaps we can stay an extra day on our next trip.”
As the mother and son are preparing to go, Gwin stops in front of her, and thanks her. Not Salouis, but Aureya, for helping. She can’t help but stare at Esmund and his mother in turn before offering a meek bow. Then remembering her training, “It is the Maiden’s doing, we are just her humble servants.”
And just when they leave, and Aureya is trying to make sense of all that just happened, echoes of his thankfulness carry along the temple’s stone hallways, loud and clear. Much to Aureya’s surprise and embarrassment, Salouis laughs and rests a hand on her shoulder.
“You should hurry up with your chores so there will be enough time for dinner,” she says before walking back towards the temple.
Aureya hurries to the baths, because there is no shortage of duties for the youngest acolyte.
What had he said, friends? Classmates? sisters? Apprehension causes her to grip the cleaning brush harder, but she really thinks about it. Esmund took her being a tiefling better than anyone so far, even if it was a bit of an experience. Maybe he can prepare his friends and family too. Maybe it will help to have someone like him on her side for once.
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A Little Reminder (Esmund)
S13 E01 - Firewalker (both)
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