Chapter 1 – Chance Encounter:
The first thing I remembered was Meppel, whose shiny cobblestone streets, bustling town squares, and vibrant vegetation painted a picture of a beautiful town that was teeming with life and happiness. You would have to try hard to nitpick any imperfections, which Meppel did not have. No Meppelian could complain about the town's quality of life, and I did not do anything to go against that norm.
I was making my way to the town's parochial school where I was raised as a child. Back then, I had always been fascinated by what was being taught in class, including the teachings of our holy goddesses, the Valkyrur. I could remember my father, the school pastor, rave about how the Valkyrur laid the foundations for our glorious planet and offered the gift of prosperity to mankind. Children outside of school would make fun of me for believing such things, but I knew that if I wanted to succeed in life, I had to have faith in the goddesses and serve the cause of my religion.
Before graduating from school, I promised my father that I would honor his legacy by devoting my life to the Valkyrias. He passed away before he had a chance of seeing me in my graduation gown and congratulating me for my hard work. Nevertheless I followed in his footsteps and became his successor after graduation.
Assuming the position of school pastor was no easy task: you had to be in class on time to set an example to your pupils, repeatedly preach about the Valkyrian Gospel, and be free from sin. My father flawlessly abided by those three simple rules, so I certainly could perform my duty as a pastor just as effectively.
As I was walking down the streets of Meppel, I noticed people waving at me amicably. Everyone in town knew me as a kind-hearted and compassionate fellow who would not hesitate to help the needy. I waved back at them, and suddenly I saw a girl run towards me.
"Father Watfen, Father Watfen!" shouted the girl. Her freckled face, dark blue-black pigtails, and creamy white skin gave her the appearance of a small angel, and her radiant smile showed that she was happy to see me. I never met the girl before, but seeing her run towards me with such a cheerful expression was enough for me to put my books down, kneel down, and hear what she had to say.
"Father Watfen, I…I just wanted to offer you this," said the girl as she handed me some kind of doll.
"Thank you, my child," I replied. I gently took the doll from the girl's hand and took a closer look at it. The doll had short black hair, was made of thatched fisher-grass, and wore a pastoral suit. The girl undoubtedly modeled the doll after me.
"Did you make this yourself?" I asked the girl.
The girl was too embarrassed to answer my question. Her face was so blushed that she started to look like a strawberry, with her freckles resembling the fruit's achenes. But I gave her confidence by putting my hand on her shoulder. I smiled at her, and eventually she found the courage to reply to me.
"Y...Yes," she said.
"You have talent, my child. I am deeply touched by your kindness, and I pray that your act of generosity will not go unrewarded," I responded.
"I just wanted to thank you for all the work you have been doing for us. I just wish there were more people who would treat everyone equally and with love, people like you," said the girl. The word "equally" had caught my attention. What did she mean by that? Did she face persecution at some point in her life? And suddenly, I knew why she used that word: the girl was a Darcsen.
I started to feel pity for the poor girl. She belonged to an indigenous race of Europans who were persecuted throughout history for allegedly causing the "Darcsen Calamity", a conflict between the Valkyrur and Darcsens that nearly brought about the end of the world and that was largely blamed on the Darcsens. Some people would argue that the Valkyrur were the ones responsible for destroying hundreds of cities and killing millions of people within them, and that the goddesses laid the blame on the Darcsens. Even if that were true, I still believed that Darcsens and Valkyrian scholars could co-exist peacefully. The bitter animosities of ethnic and religious warfare had ended thousands of years ago. I could not succumb to the hatred that many Gallians harbored, especially considering that as a pastor, it was my duty to spread the Valkyrian Gospel in an inclusive and compassionate manner.
"Child, you have nothing to fear," I told the girl as I softly held her hands. "You are safe in our community, and you will always be looked after and cared for, no matter the circumstances. We will not allow bigotry and ignorance to taint our morals."
The girl started to shed some tears, not of sadness, but of happiness.
"Thank you, Father Watfen," she whispered.
She wiped the tears from her face. I let go of her hands, and she subsequently ran away. I was just performing my duty as a pastor, but people around me believed that I was one of a kind. I could not blame them: the people of Gallia were still recovering from the wars that had ravaged the country in the past four years, but most of them could not help but point fingers at the Darcsens for causing the wars. So seeing benevolent pastors accepting gifts from Darcsen girls and complimenting them for their generosity and kindness was something that people were not used to, but those who cared knew that I was doing the right thing.
I looked at my watch and realized that I was running late for class, so I had to make haste. I knew that I could not test the patience of my superiors, especially when you consider that I was supposed to live up to the expectations set by my father.
After running for roughly three minutes, I was exhausted and took a moment to catch my breath. My hands were on my knees and I was breathing heavily, to the point where I started to wheeze a little bit. But the cool spring breeze did its best to mend my fatigue. A few seconds later, I lifted my head up and realized that I reached my destination.