30. The call of the void (Part 2)

The carriage was making its way to the Septenary Church. 

The poorly maintained cobblestones make the ride bumpy and uncomfortable. It was in no way the most glamorous Cathedral in the capital, but despite the area being modest, the church itself was anything but. It was an impressive holy vestige of the third era, when kins still roamed the world a plenty and white marble towers filled Evergreen's sky… One could only imagine what this place must have looked like back then, but now, it was just another layer of the overgrown city that many of us called our home.

One might wonder why we even bothered with this place, but it was a noble’s duty to ensure that the people were taken care of. In that optic, the aristocratic families staying in Evergreen had picked a church in a modest area to make appearances on public holidays. 

It allowed for a closer connection with the commoners… Or so they said.

Mostly, our patronage of the establishment and the surrounding contributed a great source of income for the locals, a way to bring a bit of revitalisation to an area once considered the poorest part of Evergreen.

Before, I personally had mostly frequented a church in the upper districts dedicated to the god of war, Steihnner, for the strength and protection he had provided me in battle during my youth… But now these blessings felt vain in a life I barely felt was worth living… Let alone fight for.

The carriage came to a stop, and I stared out of the window. The church stood tall and bright. Its incandescent marble walls stood in great contrast to the neighbouring commoner housing… 

The coach driver opened the door and I stepped down. 

The steps leading to the church were still the same; I had climbed them only a year ago with my Lilica after all. 

Covered in flowers and garlands, children manning the door at the front of the church…I could almost hear her laugh and her excitement as we walked up the stairs. About life, about love… About the baby…

Now, the judgmental stares of a hundred gods sculpted into the church's face weighed heavily on me. 

I had failed her. I had failed them. I had failed myself.

I struggled to keep myself straight as I pushed through my shame and walked up to the doors of the church. I was one of the last ones to arrive, it seems.

“W-Welcome, sir!” A nervous voice said at the door.

I lifted my gaze slightly and met the girl’s emerald green eyes. 

An orphan probably, they often volunteered at the church, I assume to garner donations for their establishment. From her expression, I already knew my face must have looked horrible, but she tried her best to stay composed and smiled.

“C-Could I have y-yo-your name, p-please?”

The girl had difficulty getting words out, a stutter, maybe? Not surprising. Orphans seemed to have issues more often than other children for some reason. Perhaps as a result of losing their parents… Or maybe that was the reason they had no parents in the first place. 

What a despicable thing to do to a child.

“Baron Marshall Ashbrook.” I told the girl. 

She nodded, and her eyes darted through the sheet of paper in front of her.

“Y-Your s-ss-seat will b-be 5-1 to 5-3."  She announced after a short moment.

It seems that despite her speech, her mind was sharp at the very least.

"W..Will the o-o-ooo-other guests j-join y-you today?”

Something gripped my guts as she spoke those words.

She was referring to 'them'.

“No.” I said dryly.

Her face twitched nervously. Maybe I could have tried to sound nicer…

“I-I-I see. P-P-P-P…" She paused and took a deep breath. "P-Please follow my f-fr-friend S-S-S…li-li-lika”

Did she say… Lilica?

My eyes immediately darted up to this other girl to whom she was pointing to with her hand.

And there she was. 

In the flesh. 

Lilica and I had spoken of her for hours on end. 

How she would have looked. 

The girl's eyes, golden, like mine. The same round cheeks and small, shapely nose as hers. Hair a perfect mix of my fiery red and her shimmering silver…

The same fierce look as her mother.

The greeter said something to ‘Lilica’, but I was so focused on looking at this mirage that had materialised before me that I didn’t even hear a single word being exchanged.

The little girl who shouldn’t exist gave a small bow and started walking away, into the dim light of the church. 

I tried to capture the apparition’s every movement with my eyes before it disappeared. The way she walked, the way her hair flowed, the way her face looked as she looked back at me with those thin, arched, inquisitive brows as if to ask me where I'd been all this time.

Maybe the gods, in their eternal mercy, granted me a vision of my unborn daughter? A last farewell?

“S-Sir? S-Silika is w-w-waiting for y-you.” The greeter said hesitantly.

Was that the name we would have given her? Silika… So similar to her mother’s. 

Is it really my time? Should I join them in the void? The great unknown?

The apparition's eyes locked with mine again. The same golden eyes as the ones I had seen in the mirror every day of my life, but more confident than mine had ever been and full of life.

For a symbol of hate, why did they look so lovely on her?

Suddenly, the apparition came rushing towards me with a determined expression. 

Had the gods lost their patience with me? Had they come to claim me here and now on these ancient holy grounds?

Something warm latched onto my hand. 

My mind snapped back to reality. This wasn't some delusion. This was real. The girl in front of me was a real child. Not an apparition. Lilica was dead, and my daughter was never born.

I looked down, expecting the apparition to have changed form, but to my surprise, the girl's appearance was still the same.

Her fierce golden eyes looked at me with a tinge of annoyance under the fringe of her hair, but there was also a hint of worry.

She insistently pulled me forward and, too astounded to react, I let myself be led by her as we travelled along the rows of seats.

To think there was a girl like her, living in this world. A girl just like my daughter.

I felt a ball grow in my throat as my eyes turned watery. 

I hadn’t cried since the day Lilica died, but now that I saw this girl, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

I tried to keep a straight face, but the tears began flowing uncontrollably. 

As we eventually reached my seat, the girl turned toward me to present it to me, but was shocked to find me crying like a child.

She panicked as I tried to regain composure, but it was in vain. Why did the gods torment me so? Had it not been enough to take them from me, that they now teased me with this?

The girl looked around for a bit while the ceremony visibly began its course at the front, before making some kind of decision and dragging me off to the side. 

She led me down through a door that led through the backrooms. We finally reached a Fey Kinsmann who was giving instructions to other children. The woman seemed surprised when she noticed us.

“Silika? What is it…?” She asked, her voice disguising a hint of worry.

Her eyes then quickly moved to me.

“Oh, I see… Let me just…” The woman tried to say something before being interrupted.

“Felicia! Can you come check this out?” Someone called out in a worried tone off to the side.

The Kinsmann named Felicia looked at a loss. I couldn’t meet her eyes; I was too ashamed of my current state.

“Silika, can you bring the lord to the prayer room over there? I’ll be with you in just a moment.” She asked the girl.

This one nodded and,without a word, dragged me off to the prayer room as I did my best to muffle my cries behind my hand.

Once the door behind us closed, I found the place oddly quiet. While the rest of the church had been packed and busy, this room was completely silent.

The girl I now realised was named Silika, not Lilica, took a seat on one of the pews.

She looked so young. Too young to be walking around so nonchalantly. Probably no more than 5 years old, yet her face bore a serious expression beyond those years. 

It suddenly occurred to me that this girl must be an orphan as well. She was dressed in the outfit they gave children when assisting service. I guess now that I thought about it, she had also been waiting at the doors. 

The girl looked at me curiously for a moment before wordlessly inviting me to come sit beside her. 

Realising how awkward it was to just stand and gawk at her, I sat at her side. It was somewhat surreal to have such a small thing sitting right beside me. M small animal I could accidentally crush with any misstep.

I looked up at the front of the chapel where a statue of Seeir stood proudly.

Lilica, being of very strong Seeir descent, had been a strong believer in the goddess of order’s teaching. Order and equality for all… I had always thought it slightly naive, but it was part of her charm.

Lilica had been raised to become a ruthless heir by her father's wishes. She was highly intelligent and talented as well, but, perhaps as some kind of divine retribution, she had also been born with a kind and soft nature. She naturally gravitated to those less fortunate than herself. 

Tears started flowing from my eyes again as I recalled these things. I hid my face in my hands, ashamed of displaying such an ugly sight to a child.

To my surprise, I felt a small hand touch my back. I turned to the girl who was awkwardly reaching around me to pat it. Probably imitating something she had seen before.

Such a small thing...

I faced the statue and peered into Seeir’s inscrutable eyes…

“Life is really strange, you know?” I said, leaving the moment of silence hanging in the air, but the girl didn’t say anything in reply, so I continued.

“I had everything. The love of my life was with a baby on the way. We were finally going to make peace with her father and have him acknowledge us. We were going to return to Norland and live peacefully at my father’s estate until one day I would succeed him. A quaint life. No war, no politics. I would have given up anything I needed for us to live happily… And in one single night, all of it was gone.”

I turned and looked at the girl.

Her bright golden eyes curiously stared at me.

I couldn’t bear to look at her, so I turned away again.

“You look a lot like her, you know? My daughter… Or at least, what she would have looked like... I kept thinking about it for the last 5 months. What our life would have been if that night had never happened. What our baby would have looked like, what she would have sounded like and acted like. What we would have named her… Sometimes, I wonder… I wonder if it’s worth continuing."  My voice cracked as I said those words. 

I cleared my throat. I couldn't start crying again. Not in front of her.

"My wife… My daughter… They will never come back. I will never meet a woman like her again, and my child will never grow up. Without those, is life really worth living? Would it not be any better if I just gave up? Let those other nobles take everything I own? Let the Duke roll me over, take my land, my family's legacy, my pride, my name? Should I give up and live as a beggar in the low quarters or perhaps simply return to the dirt in hopes of meeting those I love in death? Is it even worth fighting on for a life I don’t even want to live anymore…”

I looked at the girl once more, braving her fierce eyes, hoping for a sign. 

I now knew for sure that she wasn't a spirit sent by the gods, but there was unknowable wisdom in the words of children.

She hesitated for a moment. Bit her lips, tried to say something, but then stopped herself, before thinking about it again.

She composed herself.

“Ey doun y detion…”

As soon as words began pouring from her mouth, I understood how self-absorbed I had been. 

Her speech was broken. Completely indecipherable, but it was structured. Reflected and thought through. 

The girl in front of me, Silika, was telling me something no mortal ears could ever hear.  

Something deep, painful and abject. She shared these things with a stranger whom she could not speak to… And one who couldn’t listen.

I knew what she was. I had met soldiers like her on the battlefield. Men who had been too close to explosions or other incidents. 

She was deaf. 

Losing your hearing as an adult was difficult enough, I couldn’t begin to imagine how impossible of a task that would have been for an orphan child…

As she spoke, tears pooled in the corner of her eyes, but she wiped them without stopping the difficult words she was sharing with me. 

As she did, her sleeves pulled back momentarily, exposing her forearms.

Deep purple scars covered them. The skin was discoloured and swollen. Like the shield arm of soldiers after days on the frontline. I felt sick to the stomach just imagining what might have caused those marks. As my eyes traced back up to her face, I saw similar scars trace up the back of her neck, leaving only her face free of visible blemishes.

What horrible thing did that child experience?

By the time the girl was done with her story, she was sobbing loudly while talking, but despite all the pain she had poured out from her heart, she still looked up at me, smiling through the tears clouding her face.

I felt something break in my chest as I stared at my muddied reflection in her golden eyes. A mix of guilt and grief swallowed my heart as I reached into my breast pocket and handed her my handkerchief.

Never mind that I was giving it to a commoner, the sin of making a child recall such terrible things was a much greater wrong.

Just as the girl managed to dry her tears, the Kinsmann returned to the room.

“I’m so sorry about the delay, what can I...!”

She noticed Silika’s teary eyes, but seeing as the young girl was smiling, she probably thought it better not to ask. 

She gave a short bow to the girl.

“Thank you, Silika! You can return to your friends now.”

The little girl nodded and hopped off the pew. She turned around and gave a short bow in my direction. 

She looked down at her hand, seemingly remembering the handkerchief, and tried to give it back to me, but I shook my head.

“It’s a gift. For the trouble I caused.”

She probably misunderstood what I said, as her face turned red in embarrassment.

She then did something unusual.

She curtsied, the same way a young noble lady would, before running out of the room.

I looked at the door, dumbfounded.

Had she somehow learned that on her own? No, that would be impossible for a girl so young…

“She’s an angel, isn’t she?”

I blinked a few times before realising the Kinsmann was addressing me.

“Ah, yes. Sorry. Yes absolutely. A very kind girl.” I responded.

The Kinsmann smiled. 

“Smart too. She’s the one who organised the seating arrangement for today’s event. Or so her friend claims.” She mused for a moment.

Surprisingly, it seemed that this Kinsmann was familiar with the girl…

“Then, do you mind if I ask who she is?”

I was still thinking about the curtsy she made at the end. It was something only a noble would typically have noticed… So perhaps the Kinsmann hadn't?

She tilted her head, giving me an inquisitive look, but opted to simply respond to my question.

“Her name is Silika. She’s from an orphanage just two streets from here.”

“And she’s…” I said while pointing at my ear.

“Deaf? Yes. Very much so. Untreatable, from what I’m told. I don't know the details, but I also heard she went through quite the ordeal before getting to the orphanage. She’s still healing from that.” She said with a sad tone

“Poor kid.” I responded without thinking, but the Kinsmann nodded knowingly.

She cleared her throat and turned toward me again.

“...But we’re here for you right now. Was there something you wished to discuss or something I could do for you? If you need some guidance or…”

I shook my head.

“No. I think Silika gave me all the guidance I needed today.”

She nodded as I stood up from my seat.

I began walking toward the door, but before I left, I turned to the woman once more.

“Uhm… About that orphanage.”

A knowing smile appeared on her face.

“Yes, it’s on Plum Street, just turn left outside of the church. It’s two streets down. Can’t miss it.”

I nodded and slowly made my way back to my seat in the main hall.