Crois woke up at her normal time, before the cock’s crow. Used to the hours of an Acolyte, she continued to get dressed, slipping on her new garb, still revealing in its newness. A box, ornately gilded, sat on her small desk. Puzzled, Crois looked at it while she pulled her boots on. Tempted, the young Maiden wanted to finish dressing first before looking at the contents, in case it was something that meant for her to rush. Another habit from her training.

      Securing her holster and belt to her waist, and slipping the flintlock into it, Crois ran her fingers over the box. Its’ feel was different from the oaks and chestnuts that populated the countryside around the Temple. The latch was simple, Crois found, and after she finished admiring the scrollwork on the box, she opened it.

      Inside was a sealed letter, and a flintlock pistol of unusual make and design.

      First, Crois picked up the sealed letter, looking at the waxed seal on it, the design. It was a pair of crossed pistols, with an hourglass behind it. The seal of the Maidens. Intrigued, Crois opened the letter, cracking the seal open. Inside was a letter addressed to her, in flowing script she didn’t immediately recognize.

      To Crois, my daughter,

      With those words, Crois found herself immediately focusing on the letter. It had her undivided attention.

      Fates and the Lords have a way of taking us where we are needed. Tonight, I came to the Temple of Time in Rosenda, to see my only child being granted the Silver. Had I known you were still alive, or at this Temple, I would have been there more. Perhaps, I would have taken off the Silver and become a mother instead. You are in need of more explanation, which I will give you. You, at least, deserve that.

      Many years ago, I was on an important mission. Due to some complications, I was left on my own; with a mission I didn’t understand, out in a part of the world I’d never been in. In my naivety, I had hired a guide. He was a renowned bandit, a bit of a living folk tale. He and his band of men were living in exile from a Lord who grinded his people into dust and poverty. For his help, I had to help him overthrow this Lord, who violated many of the ethics we teach and believe in. The only reason I got involved was that the Lord in question was receiving both help and equipment from the Temples of Time, and had made Vows of Friendship to the Maidens.

      This bandit leader was by no means a normal vagabond, nor some common criminal. He was no other than the Lord’s own son, who protested his father’s way of treating his people. With the help of his friends, some knights, and the locals, this bandit won the hearts of many people by stealing from his father, and giving to the people. He was kind, daring, courageous, and was an outlaw only by title.

      He was also your father. His name was Jean Deliquiox.

      After overthrowing his father, and I overthrowing all aid and alliance from the Sisters, did he guide me to my mission, as we had originally agreed. I had spent a month with the man undermining his father, and another month traveling to the lands of Galee. I guess it would have been no surprise that we spent many nights as lovers. After my completion of the mission, your father and I went our separate ways. About a month later, I realized I was with child; you.

      After your birth, another Sister agreed to take you to the lands of my birth, in Cresend. I had almost died in childbirth, and was too weak do more than consent. I had looked for you after recovering, but to no success. After a year, I assumed something had happened, or the Sister was sidetracked. She had died a few months after delivering you, which I found out some time later. When I heard that news, my heart died. I knew I would never find out your fate.

      Imagine how I felt when you told me your name. I wanted to talk to you, to hold you. But after years of thinking you lost or dead, I didn’t know what to say, or how to start. But I saw you up there, in front of the alter, I felt pride. Here you were, my long-lost daughter, becoming a Sister.

      In this box, contains a pistol I crafted a few years ago. It was my own for a long time, and I feel that it will serve you as well as it did me.

      Your mother,

      Sylvia Car-Valin

      Crois put the letter down, her hands shaking. So many emotions ran over her, Crois didn’t know how to feel. She had a mother that was still alive? One that didn’t abandon her, leave her behind? Also, a father, a noble father at that. She never heard of the name Lord Deliquiox, nor did anyone ever mention it to her. She knew of the Temple in Galee, which was quite a ways. But Sylvia never mentioned which lands Lord Deliquiox ruled over, nor which country.

      I have a mother, Crois thought to herself. None other than Sylvia Silverhair herself. I have a family? The Maidens were her only family for the longest time, the Acolytes her sisters. Her head almost swam.

      Her eyes drifted down to the gift her mother gave her. It seemed alien, thinking of Sister Sylvia as her mother. Inside the box, wrapped in velvet was the pistol. Croix picked it up, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping.

      “The Lord’s Fingers!” Crois said in amazement. How Sylvia had designed the pistol was beyond Crois, by she had heard stories. A pistol unlike any other, it could fire up to five times, where a cylinder spun, loading in a new shot. It now rested in her hands, heavy and powerful. There were Sisters out there with multi-shot pistols, but they also had multiple barrels. This only had one, with a spinning cylinder with five bores. Crois fingers swept over the iron weapon, marveling it.

      Putting the weapon back into the box regretfully, she took the box with her as she left the room, locking it behind her. Crois peered into the halls, still amazed on how early the hour was, with only servants in the halls. Though Sister’s might be up, the normal hours of activity were still to come. Crois walked briskly, making her way back to the Tanner’s Shop. It might still be too early, but Crois wasn’t let a treasure such as one in her arms be left behind. Not the only thing her mother gave her.

      Walking through the Armory, she saw that most of the workers had yet to come in. The young Sister hoped that Master Tanner was in. Unfortunately, he wasn’t, but she saw that one of the other leatherworkers was in. He was a young man with longish brown hair and impressive build. His leather apron covered his chest, but not his arms, which spoke of long hard work, and hands that were becoming skilled at the trade he plied.

      “Excuse me,” Crois asked the man working on tanning a piece of hide. “Can you help me?”

      “Of course.” The young man said, turning from his work, looking at the fire-haired woman behind him. “What can I do for you?”

      “I’m in need of a holster, and belt.” Crois said weakly. She knew that when an Acolyte became a Sister, she was entitled to her first belt and holster. But now, she needed another, and she had no money, having lived in the Temple all her life.

      “Are you Sister Crois?” The young man asked, his long hair slipping out of thong he had set to keep it from his eyes.

      “I am.” Crois said, surprised. What was going on, she thought to herself.

      “Yes, a Sister came here earlier, told me you’d be in. I didn’t expect you so early, though!” The young man said with an easy smile. He found it more than easy to look at the new Sister in front of him, and he found himself staring. He quickly averted his eyes, going to the items he had made earlier. “She said they would fit, and that you would know what she meant.” The young man handed the leather belt and holster to Crois.

      “Thank you.” Crois said, surprised. Was this Sister Sylvia’s doing? Who else would have known? “What is your name, sir?”

      “Um, Stefan. Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand. Crois grasped his, shaking it. Crois was little confused on how the young man was reacting to her. He seemed nice enough to her, though. “How long have you been a Sister? You seem pretty young to me.”

      “I was granted the Silver only yesterday.” Crois answered.

      “Oh, so you were the one from the party last night! I was there. I never knew Maidens could be so pretty… uh, I mean…” Stefan stared furiously at something on the ground near his feet, blushing. Me and my big trap, he thought to himself. Crois did her best to suppress a giggle. She could see him blushing hard, embarrassed by what he had blurted out. Crois quickly decided to repay him for his compliment, and kissed the young man quickly on his cheek. To Crois’ surprise, he blushed even harder, but he stopped looking at the ground.

      “Thank you, I mean… um, I’m not good at talking.” Stefan finally admitted, feeling like a fool.

      “Don’t worry, Stefan. You’re quite handsome when you blush.” Crois said to make him feel better. He awarded her with a shy smile. He found himself staring at the fiery-haired young woman again, but she didn’t seem to mind. She really was very pretty, Stefan thought to himself.

      “I need to go, Stefan. I have work to do.” Crois said to the young tanner, hoping not to hurt his feelings. He smiled again, and quickly skirted back to the bench where he was working.

      “I wish you luck, Sister Crois.” Stefan waved. Crois smiled, waved back, and left the Armory, with the new holster and belt. Crois walked back into the Temple, going to her room. When the door closed, Crois put the new belt on her waist. Setting the holster along the small of her back. Crois then took the Lord’s Fingers, loading the weapon slowly, getting use to its’ uniqueness. When she finished almost three minutes later, she holstered the weapon, her cloak hiding it from normal view. The young woman felt uneasy having others know of the weapon, and how she had gotten it.

06/06/2006

Author's Note: Chapter 07

Posted on 06/05/2006
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