I was abandoned at birth by my parents and left at the steps of the local abbey. The monks there were kind enough to take me in and raise me. Although they lived in poverty, the abbey itself was a grand affair; busts of prominent religious figures adorned the smooth stone halls and a towering steeple rose from the back of the abbey, looming over the rest of the town. Most of the donations went not to the monks themselves, but rather to the construction of new halls and works for the abbey.

Honestly, the monks were pretty boring. They would tell tales of their god and the powers of the light, but I never really believed in any of that religious stuff. Just a bunch of old men in ragged robes, acting as though they could talk to God or something. That was just crazy talk to me. As a young girl, I found exploring the town and talking to the many travelers that passed through much more interesting.

I was around 12 when I first saw him in town. Before then, he rarely, if ever visited town. Of course, I had known about him before. Who in town didn't know about the fabulous wealth and power of the Albion family? Augustus Albion was the last living member of the noble family, but he had tremendous influence in the region. Only an hour away by stagecoach was his gigantic family estate. He lived in a royal manor on top of the cliff, a small peninsula overlooking the ocean. Compared to me with the simplest clothing and living with monks, he was like a god.

August was young and handsome. Although he was around 15 years my senior, I developed a sort of crush on him. Curious and hopelessly romantic after seeing him for the first time, I made it my hobby to follow him around town whenever he visited. I wanted to know more about him and maybe even talk to him. After all, one thing could lead to another…

"Young lady, do you truly intend to follow me into this den of drink and debauchery?" he said, stopping in place. He looked over his shoulder at me. It had been about a month since I began tracking his movements in town. This was the first time that he had noticed I had been stalking him. He was walking into the tavern as usual without a care in the world, when suddenly he noticed me.

"Wh-what? Are you talking to me, Lord?" I sputtered out.

"I am indeed. You have been trailing me under the shadow's guise for quite some time, have you not, little waif?" he replied with a warm grin. "I am more cognizant than you know!"

"I'm sorry, my lord. I will stop at once!" I threw myself at his feet in supplication. He simply chuckled.

"Really, there is no need for prostration. Leave that fruitless burden to the priests. Rise, my fair lady. What is your name?" he asked, stretching out his hand.

"My name is Sidney, Lord." I took his hand and he easily helped me up.

"Sidney! A quaint, yet beautiful name for these parts. It is quite a pleasure to finally meet you. In truth, I've found your repeated efforts to learn about me quite endearing. Now off you go; this tavern is rather unsavory, especially for someone of your age."

He gave my hand a formal kiss before letting go and turning around to head into the tavern.

"Until next time, my lord!" I peeped.

I skittered off through the crowds, straight back to my tiny room in the abbey. I was embarrassed and afraid. Though he seemed kind enough, agreeing with his reputation in town, he had enough power to have me punished for my actions. I waited nervously for a few days for punishment, but I was left unscathed.

With that, I resumed my tracking of August. He spent most of his time walking the streets of the town and buying extravagances from a few luxury shops in town. Every once in awhile, he would dip into the tavern for more shameful activities. I knew that the tavern was a front for certain sinful pastimes such as gambling and prostitution, but I was relieved when I found out he would just limit himself to drinking alcohol.

After a few months, we actually started to have small conversations. I would ask him what he was doing in town, and he would ask about how my life was going. He was tiresome to talk to since he was especially verbose, but something about him just drew me to him. Most importantly, I could tell that he was beginning to become bored of his royal life. I attempted to counteract this with interesting and funny tales from my own life, but they didn't seem enough to satisfy him.

I casually caught up to him walking in town when he turned to me and asked, "Young Sidney, what do you believe is the purpose of life?"

My eyes opened wide. We had never had a philosophical conversation before.

"Umm, well, the monks say it is to do good deeds and fulfill our duties to God."

"Ah, yes, a conventional response. Have you considered the possibility that this God is non-existent?"

"I've gone through my share of tough times, my lord. And each time, I found myself instinctively praying to God. I think that is evidence that God is a part of us, living with us."

"I cannot deny the existence of some sort of deity, that is true. The holy magics the church wields must originate from somewhere. However, why do we mortals dare presume that this deity is a merciful one? A good one?"

"Excuse me, my lord, but you've seen wielders of holy magic before?"

"Yes. When I was young, I happened upon a band of Vestals, warrior nuns. They were garrisoned with a military force, using their holy medical prowess to heal the wounded. Their skills were incredible; they could practically bring mutilated soldiers on the brink back to life. But therein lies the complication: they could not bring those taken by Death back to life. It became all too apparent to me that the purported divine power of holy magic ends at death. How could our god allow us to suffer such torment? Why bestow upon us the powers of restoration without the power of resurrection? It seems to me like a cruel game of life and death played by a careless god."

I could sense he was trying to hold something back. His facial expression hardened to stone and he fell silent.

"Well, we must have faith, Lord. God has a plan for us all. He's given each of us immense potential to achieve anything we desire. With your resources and power, I think you can accomplish anything. There's no need to be sad!"

He looked as if he was looking straight through me. Something was stirring in his head.

"Ahem. I appreciate your efforts to assuage me. I hope that what you say is true. I apologize for my sudden reticence. I must return home… I have much to think about."

"Yes, Lord. Goodbye then."

A whole month passed before the next time that I saw him. Every day, I eagerly looked over the singular stone path that led to his estate, but he never came. The only notable activity I saw on that road was a disgusting looking man riding a gaunt horse, transporting a cart full of dead rats. Surely, Augustus would have that man punished for bringing such filth to his estate.