Childhood 4 – Monsters
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"What has gotten into you? Running away is one thing, but this? Assaulting a fellow maiden? Have you gone mad!?"
Verna glared at the floor as her father berated her, studying the dark stains from the day before. She had spent the entire morning scrubbing their sleeping quarters, but traces of Cliope's blood yet remained, pooled about her bedside like a mark of guilt. "She started it," the girl muttered.
"I don't care!" Klimt shouted. "You must be better than them! You are my daughter, you were meant to be a devout maiden! After all this time, all your training, you could not identify what miracle she was casting? You just stood there and let it happen?"
"She tricked me!" Verna shouted back, feeling slighted. Nobody had shown concern for her head wound, only Cliope's. The back of her skull was still swollen like a clump of mossfruit, and not a single cleric had offered her aid. "She said she was gonna show me how to cast a prayer, and—"
"You should have known," the Archdeacon repeated. "You heard the words, you should have known which prayer she was reciting. This is why you need to train harder! You dream of fighting monsters and demons, but you failed to even best another novice!"
"I did best her! I broke her head open and I won!"
"Stop this, Verna! Please! Why must you make things so difficult? You think you can do whatever you wish, without care for the consequences, but that is not the daughter I raised! My child is not selfish, and she is not willfully ignorant! You need to start seeing the world for what it really is!"
To his surprise, his daughter laughed miserably. "I need to see the world? Are you toying with me, father?"
Klimt winced despite himself. "Verna... you simply do not understand. You cannot imagine what horrors the land keeps hidden from us. The curse, the Dark, the cost of sacrifice... These are just words to you, ideas that you have not yet experienced. Believe me, child, you may hate it here, but this place is a haven compared to the rest of our kingdom."
"I don't care!" the redhead cried out. "I'm a prisoner, I hate it here!"
"You foolish girl!" the Archdeacon snapped, unable to control his temper. "Don't you see what I'm trying to do? I'm protecting you! The world is too dangerous for you, there are monsters out there!"
"There are monsters in here!"
She screamed at the top of her lungs, and her voice echoed across the vacuous chapel. The Archdeacon stared aghast at his daughter, his face ashen white. "What... what did you say?"
"There are monsters right here! It's you, it's all of you! You're all monsters!" Verna suddenly leapt from the bed and sprinted down the hallway, as her father desperately cried after her. His old legs were no match for her youthful stride, and she rounded the corner before the stationed guard could even react. She leapt onto a wooden platform behind him? causing the elevator to rise with a groan.
"Stop her, curse you!" her father ordered. The knight attempted to mount the rising lift, but his heavy armor weighed him down, and the girl stayed well out of reach. As the elevator climbed higher, the guard slid from the platform and slammed back onto the floor, nearly tumbling down the elevator shaft to certain doom.
The Archdeacon glared at the clumsy knight. "Stop the elevator!" he ordered. "Get her down from there!"
"I can't, your holiness," the guard's voice echoed inside his steel helm. "It has to reach the top before it can—"
"Then go after her! She's going to escape again!"
"Yes, your holiness!" The knight quickly jogged down the hall, rallying others to his side. Meanwhile, the Archdeacon clutched the robes of the nearest deacon and pulled him close.
"Send for the knight of thorns. Tell him to bring my daughter home. Now."
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Verna listened to the sounds of chaos that emanated from the cathedral, her back pressed against a cold tombstone. They made such a fuss every time she did this, and the child would never understand why. "Just leave me alone," she muttered, but nobody was around to listen, save for the corpses buried deep beneath the earth.
In the distance, she could make out the glow of torchlights as search parties headed into the swamps of Farron. In truth, she wished she had tried this deception much sooner. The cathedral's graveyard was the perfect place to hide, a vast labyrinth of tombstones and obelisks. The clergy could search high and low throughout the swamps, but they would never find her. It was not a trick they would fall for twice, however, and she had to enjoy her freedom while it lasted.
Her musings were cut short as a shadow loomed over her. Verna jumped at the ominous figure blotting out the sun. She recognized the silhouette, and for a brief moment, she was terrified. However, as the knight of thorns hovered there, silent, the young girl relaxed and rose to her feet. She barely reached the warrior's waist, yet she stared straight into his spiked helmet without fear.
"Of course they sent you," she muttered. "You're the only one capable of finding me. Funny, is it not? The clergymen, in all their wisdom, cannot divine my location, but a simpleton like you never fails." She waited for a reaction, but the knight stood stoic as a statue. It irritated her. "Do you loathe me?" she pressed. "Do you hate having to fetch me over and over? A wicked warrior like yourself, running errands for the clergy, chasing after a stupid little girl... Do you not feel anything, you dumb brute?"
A cold wind carried with it the cackling of crows, and whistled through the knight's hole-riddled helmet as if it were hollow. The girl sighed in defeat and sunk amidst the gravestones.
"May I ask a favor of you?" her tone suddenly shifted. "Let me stay a while longer. I'll return soon, you need not carry me, just let me..." Verna trailed off, then stifled a giggle. "Of course. How silly of me. You do not hesitate out of pity. We are already home, and your duty complete. That's the reason, is it not?"
As the breeze rustled her blood-red hair, she prayed to the Gods to grant her wings, that she might fly away forever. "It's hopeless. I will never be rid of this cursed place. I'm no better off than you, a witless slave to the clergy, except I'm aware of my own worthlessness. Do you know how little you actually mean to them? The Archdeacons, the clergymen, the entire Church? They see you as a tool, a fancy suit of armor with nobody inside. They see you as a monster... but that's not true, is it? In the end, you're still just a person... aren't you?
"You know... my father claims to protect me, but I know better. I'm not afraid of them, I'm not! They are the monsters, greedy and vile creatures! They're monsters for treating us like slaves. Their small world is no better than the one outside, anyways. There's no difference. They just want to believe in their stupid dreams of something better, something..."
She trailed off, and her eyes glazed over. As the moments passed, the wind died down, and Verna seemed to realize something. "Lord... Is father right? Am I blind? I boast of being brave, of facing monsters, yet here I am, still running. I flee from the monsters in my own home, as if the ones outside would treat me any better. How can I claim to be brave, when I... when I..."
The red-haired girl thought she might cry, but the tears never came. She stared past the tombstone before her, and knew she had to make a choice. Even though she lied to herself, there may still be time to prove her bravery. There was still a chance to defeat her demons.
She wiped her nose on the back of her fur cloak most ungraciously, then held her head as high as it would reach. "I suppose I've tricked them long enough. Might as well accept my penance." Verna stepped down from the tombstone, and the loose dirt crunched beneath her bare feet. As she started up the countless stairs of the cathedral, she paused and turned. The knight of thorns still had not moved, but tilted his head to watch her depart.
"Kirk? You are to escort me home, are you not?" He gave no reply, and she expected nothing less. "I would hold you to your duty." With a creak, the sinister warrior started after her, and shadowed the child as she marched to face the monsters.