Some fantasy stuff I had been working on earlier this year. Probably no good, but whatever.
“Mother Zelen, is this the will of the gods?” whispered a young nun, dressed in white. “It is in their great scheme for us to die and join with mother Lleu.” said the nun called Zelen, seconds before the massive stone cleaver met with her skull. Her robes changed from white, to crimson speckled with pink. The last nun met eyes with her sister's murderer. “How... dare you! May the gods damn you to the void!” She followed her sister, even donning the same robes as her now. The titanic woman who slew them inspected the gory scene around her. Seemingly satisfied with her work, she motioned to the two young girls by her side to follow.
There had been word of dissenters ambushing caravans from the church, but this remained unconfirmed until the handiwork of the slayer with the stone cleaver had been found. Rumors of the killer spread among the local monasteries, causing an all too warranted panic. Mother Amlenu, from the Kokleu monastery, claimed that these killings were a test of their faith, and that no harm would come to them if they remained faithful. Naturally, many of the nuns fled to the more civilized nations of the north. Only six nuns remained in the Kokleu monastery after the exodus.
There was no sound of chanting or prayers in the monastery. To an outsider, it would seem to be abandoned. But, the soft footsteps of the nuns' bare feet were the only sounds to be heard in those cold, stone walls. “Sister Vloa?” whispered a young nun, as if not to break the veil of silence. The older, dark-haired nun glanced at the small figure by her side. “Has mother returned from her meditation? She's usually back by now.” whispered the small, blonde nun. “Mother spoke with the great mother Lleu; she will be in her embrace for the rest of the night.” The two nuns smiled briefly at one another, but the atmosphere around them remained cold and hostile.
A face shown in the darkness. The face of Lleu. Behind the shut eyelids of the aging nun, she saw the great mother who bore the world. She longed for the soundless words of her mother to echo in her head, but there was only silence. The distant visage remained shrouded by shadows that wove contorted expressions across her gaze. She cried out in her mind for any sort of sign. Nothing. Shadows overtook the solemn visual and hid it behind a veil of darkness, like a toxic miasma
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