The Demon Girl

Ilara Bonaparte

 

            The rain had washed away the sins and wrongdoings of the land, though it would soon be refilled.  Life would continue with vice and its companions, but for now it would be simple and pure.  The wind was slow , sulking its way across fields full of crops, twisting about the corn and grain as if dancing.  It wound through suburbs, slums, and palaces, ending finally at the largest building in all of the surrounding area.  It was simple, fashioned after the Christian churches of old.  A large steeple reached heavenward to the gods that resided there.  It was here that I was forced to call home:  the Temple of the Priestess, home to the Republic’s religious leader and her attendants, priests, and male harem. 

            The temple shone brightly against the sky as I bathed in the sacred waters of the priestess.  I reflected silently on my fortune while I cleansed away the dirt and grime of the field work I often did for my ill father.  He had needed an extra hand, so I had taken a vacation day to assist in the harvest.  It had taken all night to return from the other side of the city, in the rural communities.  The rain had slowed my progress, but the sacred waters were kept warm by magic.  Technically, I should not have helped him- an attendant to the priestess was not allowed to “dirty herself” with peasant work.  I shook my head slightly, lifting my face to the rising sun.  My hair had clung to my neck before I had stepped into the pool, but now it was nothing but a black helmet.  My skin looked almost translucent, I was so pale.  All attendants of the priestess must be pale, with well-manicured hands and perfect virginal bodies (at least at the beginning of their service- some attendants took husbands and many had lovers).  It was a male society, and there was nothing I could do about it. 

This was why I was bathing at sunrise, before the other attendants awoke.  I had to clean off the dirt of the field before anyone saw.  The blessed water also affected the sunscreen spell I had placed upon myself to stop the inevitable tan from the fields.  Holy water did more than just clean- it purified.

I heard a small splash from Arinne’s separate bath on the other side of a wooden fence.  I heard her bodyguards-all four of them women- take up places at opposite ends of the pool, facing away from her.  I heard her clear voice begin a chant, and I smiled happily.  Only she knew the proper spells to mediate the gods and do their will.  The Priestess was awake- it was her prerogative to wake with the dawn and perform various rituals I knew naught about.  An attendant should understand what she is attending, but the whole priestess matter had me confused.  The Priestess would chant in a language that was feral, angelic, and beautiful at once.  One of the other attendants had remarked that the chants the Priestess recited were silent to the human ears, but I could always hear them.  I kept silent about my ability to hear the language of the gods, as I had only worked there a few months and had no experience with the matter.

I knew I was lucky to have procured such a cozy job, but the whole matter had nothing to do with my skills, though they were plentiful and proficient.  The whole matter was due more to connections, as politics often are. 

Before she had become the Priestess of the States, Goddess of the Republic, she had been a mere peasant girl that lived next to me in the farmer’s slums.  She had been called Arinne before Fate befell her.  As children, we casted various spells within our “Inner Sanctum” (A circle of trees littered with multicolored pinecones)  Arinne had always bested myself in spells, though the truth was never told until the old Priestess of the States died.

            The instant she died, the assistant priests sought a new priestess- an innocent one that could be molded more to what they wished.  Luckily, various spells revealed Arinne, and I had been the first attendant appointed to her.  It was the only time in the years I had known her that she stood up to the priests.  She knew the farming industry was going to the dogs thanks to the spells allowing instant food at every table, and my family needed the money my job would provide.  For ten years I have been her confidante, servant, and semi-protector.  .

            Though Arinne was the equivalent of an archmage in power, her mind has always been that of a child.  Even at nineteen she does whatever is requested of her, a true civil servant, while I balk the assistant priests at every turn.  In reality, the Priestess is the religious leader of all of the land, but she is a mere puppet whose strings are held by the assistant priests- rich men all

I sighed, rising out of the water.  I immediately bent to retrieve a towel, wrapping it around my waist as I wondered if anyone had seen me sneak in.  I hadn’t slept in over thirty hours, and my eyes showed it.  Field work will do that to someone- my hands were slightly bloody, but the manicure had kept.  I didn’t want to have to explain the blood to the manicurist.  She would tell the priests that I was breaking regulation again, and I couldn’t have that-

“Myrah!”  The masculine sound of a priest’s voice snapped me to attention as I clutched the towel closer to me.  That peeping tom!  I whirled angrily and faced the oldest of the assistant priests, Kederet.  He was clothed in a red robe with white trim while his black eyes hovered over what I covered under my towel.  Lecher!  Oh, if it had been one of the younger priests, I would have removed his sex organs, but I had to pretend to respect Kederet.  Arinne had insisted upon it.

“Yes sir?” I asked through gritted teeth.  Sleazy old man!  I kept a mantra in my head while he spoke, which was along the lines of “Pervert, pervert, pervert-“

“You are to clothe yourself and come to the outer sanctum immediately.”  His smile was more self-satisfied than anything else.  Only one thing comes from a smile like that from him, and it would probably involve me getting into trouble.  He hated me a lot more than I ever liked to think about. 

“Of course, sire.” I hissed.  He was going to be a self-satisfying jerk, fine.  I could be bitchy if I wanted, too!

He whirled away and I frowned after him.  The Outer Sanctum.  Great.  Also known as the “sentencing hall”- whenever the priests didn’t like something I did, they’d try to get me kicked out of the Order, and it was there they’d do it.  The Outer Sanctum was for commoner worshippers (also known as those who didn’t have enough money to bribe their way into the Inner Sanctum) and none of us ever entered unless a makeshift trial was called.

It didn’t help that the other attendants hated me.  I dressed with silence around me, clothed in the pristine white dress that reached past bare feet.  Sashes were part of the uniform, but I never donned them.  They had been out of fashion for centuries, and a farmer’s daughter never had a need for them.  A farmer’s daughter didn’t need to be in the Order, either, according to the priests and other attendants.  Most of the things I did, I could have gotten away with if they hadn’t tattled.

They were wealthy socialites all, disrespectful of the Priestess and her ways.  The other girls had bought their way into the cushy lifestyle while I had been placed because I was the best friend of the Priestess.  I suppose jealousy was expected, but outright hate?  If I had known the people I would’ve had to deal with in this job…

Oh, I would have taken it anyway.  Anything for a friend, I suppose, even eternal torture.

I put my hair up in a messy bun, not caring how it looked.  I was going to get in trouble-again- and I might as well look the messy part.  I suppose I was just slightly down about the whole matter- my father was ill and my family poor while I languished in magical baths.  Maybe if I was excommunicated it would be better for my family, but not Arinne.  So I’d grit my teeth, speak my case, and let fate decide.

 

Letting fate decide had been a bad idea.

The whole of the Order of the Priestess (attendants, bodyguards, priests, hell- even the cook and maids!) had assembled.  I hadn’t done anything horrendous, so I wasn’t fearful, just annoyed.  With my usual fashion, I sauntered in, winked at Arinne, and stood in the center. 

Arinne was downcast, her eyes tired.  The weight of the language was a difficult one to harbor.  It was the language of the gods, and only she could speak and understand it.  I suppose it is like the driver of the car- he or she holds great power while behind the wheel- but wield it too long and one tires out.  Arinne had held this power for years now, and I was still unclear as to what power it was, but I could see how it drained her.

I sighed as the first priest began to speak and basically fazed out.  The whole time, Arinne, did not look up once, nor did she see my presence.  I began to worry, and thus stayed silent when I should have spoken.  The only words I heard were “And your sentence is assistance with the lower priests’ exorcisms.” With that the sentencer closed a book with a wham!  And I returned to reality with a smash.

What?

Oh no.

All my concerns for Arinne dissipated.  Exorcisms?  Me?

 “Please,” I said, following the parade of the priests.  “Not exorcism!  Please, kick me out of the Order or whatever but-“. 

Kederet whirled back on me angrily.  “It is the will of the Priestess that you not be removed from this temple or your status.  Be thankful that all you shall do will be menial jobs.”  He swept off with a swirl of his cape. 

Soon, I was alone in the Sanctum.  I hadn’t even realized anyone had left.

I hadn’t even heard my charge.

What bothered me most, though, was Arinne.  She was always alert when I was in trouble, and we shared sarcastic glances while the trial went on.  Whenever I was “sentenced” Arinne spoke up for me and declared that I not serve it.  They had to do what she said, after all- she was the Priestess, and she only ever got a backbone for me.  What I wondered the most, though- was why she hadn’t.