A/N: the second part of this chapter is the weakest. I feel that I start to list things, so in reviews could you please help me re-word parts of that section?
Thank you.
CHAPTER ONE:
My name is Meg, born into The Church I have Always known the rules of The Faith. Strict, guiding rules that, if followed, are sure to lead you to Maherik, the good after-life. The Mighty Spirit is harsh, but just. He set out his rules in plain sight, to be followed by all. Those who disobey are sinners. The Great Spirit hates sinners. So, I do as well.
I am a sinner.
I did not know I was. I had been baptized, never looked at a man, never wore my hair down, or talked out of turn. I prayed seven times a day and three times more on the Holy day. I fasted every full moon, read the Holy Book once a month, and lived simply, thankful for what I had. But I had lived this life lying to myself the whole time. Lying so well that even I did not know that I lied, for I was hiding something. Magic. Magic is wrong, a sign of Zahairen, the Devil. I have sinned, and now I must pay the price.
The road before me stretches on and on over hills, swerving around river, through forests and beyond mountains. I cannot see the end, but I don't glance back. Behind me is the great, white-walled city that I once called home. I can feel its presence behind me like a looming shadow, pressing me onwards. Its blue banners wave me away. I will never return there again, and I understand and accept that. I do not deserve even the meager bread crusts they packed in my sack along with an apple and water skin as they waved me good-bye. They shouldn't have watched my leaving. I don't deserve that. I did wrong and now am being justly punished for it. I will never get to return to the great city I am walking from, but if I stay to The Book, and pray extra hard and long, perhaps I will be spared the worst after-life. I must try.
The sun has risen now in the sky, and I keep walking. The end is no nearer, and the twists and turns are still unclear. Perhaps it has more meaning than just a road, it seems very much like my own life. I wonder, what will await me at the other end?
The light of dawn woke me with its soft comforting light. No, not comforting. That was where my magic lay, I would have nothing more to do with it! I knelt to pray right then and there. I prayed long and hard, reciting some prayers from my prayer book and speaking some from my heart on spot right there. I begged forgiveness for my sins and pleaded for the knowledge of how to cleans myself. For the first time ever I felt no reply. I sat back on my heels, numb. Was this how it felt to be a liar and a sinner, to be pushed away from Mahrek?
Eyes lowered, head bowed in silent shame I busied myself with breakfast. I found some mushrooms and parsley, as well as dug up some nearby plants to find that they were carrots. I rinsed them in the river by the road and threw them into a cooking pot.
As I waited for it to cook I searched through my pack. I had the bread crusts, two apples, a comb for my long brown hair I wore in a braid, hidden behind my thick head scarf, a dull knife to cut my food with and my old Holy Book that had been my Grandmothers before she passed away. On the outside of my pack, hanging on a thick rope cord hung my water skin, which I had just filled at the river, my other pair of sandles. Sandels wear out very quickly. Later, when I finished cooking, would hang my small beat up cooking pot on the pack as well.
I was extremely thankful for all that they had given me. I deserved none of it. They should have merely tossed me out to the road and left me with only my thick woolen dress. It was long and brown, going all the way from under my chin to my wrists and down to the ground. On my head I wore a headscarf to hide my hair. Only my hands and face were visible.
The soup was ready so I doused the fire. I was not a very experience cook, but at least I had enough basic skills to get by. After humbly praying on my knees I ate. The soup was very watery, but still, it was okay, better than nothing. So I was thankful. Then I rinsed the pot in the river and strung it on my pack. Again I stepped onto the road to continue to where ever I was going. Only time would tell where The Holy One wanted me to go.
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