The quartet aligned themselves in the wooden pew, with Chiara at the far end and Julchen in the beginning and packed like had been some arguing as to who sat where and complaining about how tightly packed the pew was now they sat still and drew quiet breaths as prayer began .Prayer wasn't just the single act of praying; it covered all of the usual rituals they practiced in church, but most found it easier to use it as an umbrella term.
The priest, decorated in red and gold fabric, was in the middle of a sermon. His powerful voice rang throughout the cold stone walls of the church and disappeared in the half moon night. The four weren't paying him much attention; nor was anyone else, besides the children. The sermons he gave were awfully similar, spreading the same message, and everyone past the age of ten had heard them what must have been more than a thousand times.
"Come over later? I have some stew left from last night!" Carmen nudged Chiara and whispered an hour into prayer, switching her gaze from the priest reading the Bible, to the latter. Chiara hushed her, but gave a small nod. Those belonging to the church fasted two hours before Eucharist, and seeing as they had little time to during work hours, almost everyone returned home with empty stomachs and the desire to eat. Guilt bubbled in the pit of her stomach as the thought of the bread Chiara too came to mind. She couldn't help it! The sudden movement around her brought pulled her out of her thoughts and she looked around wildly. People were standing up and opening small, blue books in the palm of their hands. Chiara followed them and pulled her own out from under the pew in front of her and peeked at the page number Carmen had hers open to.
Flipping through pages to find the song that the choir was beginning to hum, Chiara quickly joined with the rest of the church as they sang to a hymn. It was a hauntingly beautiful scene with the faint flames of candles illuminating the church, making the stained glass windows depicting bible scenes easier to see, the only background noise being the cries of a baby and its mother hushing them. The walls had intricate designs carved into them that had made Marianne stop and admire them when the group took their seats, and the floors with cracks like branches of a tree running through them like veins.
As it was a Saturday, the hymn was shorter than usual and everyone slid the song books back under the pews in front of them and sat for Eucharist. Red wine was poured into a simple silver goblet and sacramental bread passed down for each along with the wine. Once it reached Chiara, she dipped the wafer and stained it with the red wine, placing it on her tongue and passing it back to a man behind her who thanked her before she turned around. The wafer dissolved quickly in Chiara's mouth. Both hands covered a long yawn and she leaned back in the uncomfortable and hard back of the pew.
The priest took his leave, with the choir following after, leaving those in the pews to talk loudly amongst their neighbours and friends. The four of them stood up to and awkwardly pushed their way past the others in the row. A gust of cool air blew in through the doors and pushed back the loose strands of hair that were in Chiara's face. Smoothing her hair back with her hand, Chiara rubbed her eyes and followed her her companions out into the dark village.
It was nine and the moon had replaced the sun, stars like freckles in the dark sky. Crickets chirped and soft, tired voices of children complained to their parents behind Chiara. Even the noisy Julchen was speaking in a low voice to Marianne as they walked to towards their streets, and Carmen nor Chiara had spoken a word since leaving. Unconsciously, Chiara crossed her arms and looked up into the sky. It made her wonder. Was there anything up there? Early in the summer, Octavia had confidently said there was something beyond; Chiara said she was mad. But, now, she wasn't so sure about it. That's enough, Chiara scolded herself, don't be like that damn witch.
They continued in silence until reaching the line of stores that separated their streets. "'Night!" Julchen walked backwards with a smiling Marianne by her side, smiling and wishing them a farewell. Carmen waved them off until they were out of sight and bumped Chiara's hip. "What?" Chiara grumbled and squinted, trying to make Carmen's face out in the dark. "Stew!" The dark brunette exclaimed loudly, which made Chiara wince. "Sorry, sorry! I just wanted to make sure you didn't forget," Carmen lowered her voice to a whisper. "I didn't, don't piss your pants, alright?" Chiara reassured and punched her arm jokingly. As they neared closer to their homes, Chiara walked faster in an effort to reach her doors first and change back into her casual clothes.
"Get the fire ready," She ordered behind her as opening the clunky front door to the bakery, "I'll be right in." Not waiting for an answer, Chiara tripped in and let the door close behind her whilst she climbed her way up the stairs. Rushing to change, she tugged the blouse over her head, unlaced her corset, and pulling the skirt down to her ankles and stepping into a black one tossed on the floor in it's place. She'd have to go and clean the random pieces of clothing soon; a layer of dust and grime were beginning to form on most of them. Not bothering to wear a corset, she struggled to shove her feet in a pair of flats wearing out at the heel and hopped down the stairs. Her empty stomach growled in anticipation for the stew; it was homemade, with beef and potatoes and oats in it, and delicious. Carmen had made it when Chiara first opened shop as a welcoming gift, and soon learned that she made it every other Friday as well. It had been a busy Friday for Chiara, though, running in and out of the store to deliver loaves and such. She had asked for Carmen to save her some instead- to which she agreed without a complaint.
xxx
Carmen's stomach growled as she lifted a clay container of day old stew and removed it's lid. Pouring it out into a larger pot hanging above the fire, she splashed a glass of water in with it and placed the container next to a pile of wood and went to set out bowls for the two. Most of the bowls were soaking in a wooden bucket and ready to be scrubbed; Carmen just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Shallow dipped spoons were placed next to it as well as glasses of water she had collected from the well hours earlier. A goofy smile grew on her face at the thought of how Chiara would compliment her stew and ask for seconds. Carmen had made sure it was super good this time, too, even managing to throw some carrots in (which her dear, dear neighbour loved).
The stump of a candle was lit in the middle of the table and it's wax beginning to drip out onto the sides like raindrops creeping down a window. From downstairs came a knock at the door followed by muffled footsteps that grew louder as the pair of feet made their way up the stairs. "Hey," Chiara appeared in a cute outfit. She was always so fashionable! Carmen really admired that. Maybe she could help her pick out nice outfits for church one day, since the Spaniard had only appeared in rather bleak clothes (well, as bleak as one could dress during that time) that night. Wait- had she even changed out of them? Looking down at her skirt, it seemed as though she hadn't. "What're you looking at?" Chiara asked and pulled a chair out from the table and plopped down in it.
"Fufufu, I forgot to change out of my church clothes! Turn away, Chi! I have to change!" Carmen cried, her sudden outburst causing the other to look at her in shock. "What are you saying? Tch, you crazy woman..." Her sentence faltered but she turned away to look out the window to allow Carmen to change. This is ridiculous, Chiara shook her head as Carmen, true to her word, began to shrug out of her clothes and quickly into her casual ones. "Can I turn around now?" She sighed. Carmen chirped a "yes" and she spun around to face Carmen. Her hair was now out of her usual, tight bun and instead loose. A dark olive long sleeved blouse was rolled up to her elbows, showing off a few scrapes and moles decorating her arm, and a brown skirt only reaching her the ankles of her bare feet. The two stared at each other with flushed cheeks before Carmen cleared her throat and pulled out a chair with a wobbly leg to sit across from Chiara.
The fire in the fireplace crackled and a few embers floated out every now and then, quickly dying even before reaching the thick planks making up the floor. They sat in a comfortable silence, staring into the flames with their eyes fluttering every now and then. Breathing through their noses, neither dared to make a sound; it wasn't an awkward pause in time for either women. Calloused fingers of the florist drummed on the scratched wooden table and mimicked a tune played in church. Soft palms belonging to the baker rubbed her eyes tiredly and dragged her hands down her face and falling to the table. It was a calm night, like the world had stopped turning and clocks frozen in place, with owls perched atop straw roofs cooing and wind lazily travelling through the alleys of Rhomanta, nothing bad could happen in sleepy village that night.
But as all good things come to an end, this particular scene went out with a bang- and a scream to follow.
What a filler. orz I have terrible writers block, but I really wanted to get somewhere with the story, so I offer you this for now.