Three weeks later they were back in town and, after promising to wait for her, Peter had dropped Kala off at the confessional. Kala didn't particularly understand human religion, nor did she want to. She knew that their God favored them, and that was why the first fathers gave elves magic. Judging by everything she'd seen of human culture, she was fairly certain that magic was the better gift. Kala neglected to factor in that she was the last free member of her species.
"You look lovely today."
"Why thank you," as an elf, Kala looked better than a human every day. As an elf noble, she was stunning on her worst days. However she remembered that human women liked approval and- she had to admit- it felt good to be complimented.
"That color blue emphasizes the flushing pallor of your skin. And you're beautiful reddening was brought about only by my voice…" The man behind the curtain was rewarded by a pity laugh from Kala.
"I wasn't aware that confessions were supposed to be like this."
"Are you a Catholic?"
"I'm learning. This is my first confession."
"Well let me give you a little instruction. I sit in this booth all day, if I had to talk like a pompous windbag to everyone who comes in then I would lose my voice. I would also sound incredibly boring. But if you insist, tell me your sins."
Kala thought. "I'm not sure if this is necessarily a sin, but tonight is my marriage moon and I'm concerned about it."
"You're getting married? Are you worried about losing your maidenhood?"
"I'm already married. But tonight is the night I will be made a woman, yes." Kala felt uncomfortable sharing information with the priest, but he was sworn to secrecy, a voice between man and God. She knew that human slaves prayed to their God but she'd never heard of an elf doing such. "I'm not worried about the details of the consummation, however I feel like it would be a betrayal of my people, of everything I stand for."
"You know, a lot of women feel the same way when they grow up. They worry if losing their honor is as sinful as they say. Most women though, worry that they will be unable to please their husbands in bed. But you are so beautiful that any son of Adam would be willing to lie with you, and they would treat you as a goddess, and they would take any pleasure that you would be willing to give them." The priest was very emphatic; Kala could hear him panting slightly on the other side of the curtain.
"That isn't exactly it."
"What is your name daughter?" The priest asked.
"It's Kala."
"Well, Kala, I can help you."
"How?"
"Very easily. Priests are godly men, Kala, but I've seen the world outside this confessional. I can help you with your insecurities. You're as sweet as honey, with musk strong enough to lure anyone. Your hair is as black as the enchanting sky, your lips as red as hell, and all the while you tempt me with your tiny waste and perfect bosom."
Kala became increasingly less flattered and more uncomfortable by the word. She pulled her shawl tightly across her chest cursing the exposure of human dresses. Cut low and tight, this dress was designed only to show her off, the border of black cambric against the blue merely emphasized.
"Now Kala, I have only one question. Behind that blindfold, what color are your eyes."
"Black."
"Perfect." The divider curtain parted. The priest was touching her shoulder. There was heat, pain, and a blinding light that left spots hovering even in her covered eyes. She knew the priest would be unable to harm her, and she unsteadily rose to her feet. Completely exhausted, she was unaware that she had fallen back into the rubble of the confessional, rather she felt like she was floating away on an elven cloak, going to see her father.
"Kala wake up! Are you hurt? Can you walk?" Peter's voice shook her into consciousness.
She groaned. "Why am I covered in dust?"
"You don't know?" Peter's face red stunned disbelief.
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking."
"Kala, we have to get out of here. A lightning bolt came out of clear sky and struck the confessional. It was blasted into fragments in every direction. The priest is nothing but burnt lumps of flesh. I'm astounded that you're unharmed, it's a miracle!" Peter tugged her up. "But no one else will think it was a miracle. Kala, they're going to want to try you as a witch, and they will tar and feather me with the same brush. We need to leave quickly."
"Oh." There was nothing more to say. Her magic had killed someone. If she had been a human she would have fallen to her knees and begged for forgiveness, or else prayed for thanksgiving. She wasn't sure which this qualified as, but the warrior in her soul was cheering for blood. Kala was disinclined to quiet it.