Rise Read online

  "We've got children that need washing. See to it."

  Victoria scanned the line of dirty children in front of her. Where to begin, she wondered, looking wide-eyed at all the children. It seemed as if the line was never ending, and she wasn't sure how scrubbing children was going to do any good, since they were likely to go play in mud as soon as she was done.

  But, under Sister Katherine's watchful eye, she couldn't shrug off her duties. Victoria sighed heavily, and grabbed the nearest kid.

  "Here, sit down good child." She gestured towards the tub. The child just stood there, wide eyed, dirt falling off his body in stiff chunks. If he hadn't been so dirty, he would have been a rather cute child, Victoria thought.

  "Go on and sit." She pointed at the tub again, and splashed her hand around in the water for emphasis. The child inched closer, and lifted his leg in slowly and deliberately.

  "As long as you don't eat me."

  "Why in the world would I eat you?" Victoria pulled the boy gently down into the tub. "Because, you're a demon." The boy said, so sincerely, it was clear he believed it to be fact.

  Victoria suddenly became very conscious of her red roots that were undoubtedly showing, as it had been a while since she’d last dyed her hair.

  She could also feel Sister Katherine's eyes on her back. Why did that woman have to hear everything? It seemed as if the older she got, the more acute her hearing became.

  She turned back to the child. His eyes were still on her, wide and nervous.

  "I'm not afraid." He said, defiantly, but his voice shook a little. "Well, you should be. I've got some stories I could tell you. Stories only demons would know.” She whispered to him. The boy's eyes widened again, but this time, they were brimming with excitement. Victoria smiled, relieved. Every once and a while she got a child who thought she was a demon. Typically, if she joked about it, the child would calm down. The last thing the convent needed was panic over a “demon." There were already enough rumblings about its irrelevance, no need to add "demon nest" to the list.

  "Oh, please tell me. My name's Wes, after my dad. I never met him, though. My mom, before she died, she said he was a good man. A hero. My mom said he fought with demons, and he always won. Until the day he died, you know. Do you have any stories of my dad? I bet you do." Victoria froze. She was sure this boy's father had been a soldier in some conflict that Gracelia had been involved in, but she didn't know any specifics as the convent discouraged contact with the outside world. But, she had not expected the boy to spill his whole life story, and after he did, she had no idea what to say.

  She looked down. Wes was still looking at her with such unabashed adoration, that she felt ashamed. What was she supposed to tell him? More diatribe about demons being defeated by gods, even though she knew it wasn't true?

  It was in these moments that she knew she didn't belong here with the other sisters. Those who gave a damn about what happened to these children. Now, Victoria cared more than she wanted to admit, but did she want to be a part of the elaborate web of lies the convent had so expertly weaved over the years? No. She was here because of poor choices on behalf of her parents, whoever they'd been. Nothing more, nothing less. She hadn't made the choice to dedicate her life to any cause, even one as falsely noble as this one.

  Victoria swallowed. "I'll tell you after you're washed. Maybe over some juice?” Wes smiled, relieved, as if he’d been waiting to hear her say those very words.

  "Good. I can't wait." As Victoria scrubbed his back, she thought frantically of something to tell him. Lies, stories, anything.

  And good lord, she realized, she had even invited him to a makeshift play date. What had gotten into her today? Somehow, she gotten herself into the very situation she was trying to avoid. She was an assassin-in-training, and something just seemed very wrong about befriending little boys.

  When she finished scrubbing Wes's back, he stood up, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Victoria looked over his shoulder, still feeling too uncomfortable to look him in the eye.

  "Juice?" Wes pulled impatiently on her shoulder, something that might have endeared him to her, if only Victoria wasn't worrying about what she'd just promised him.

  She looked around frantically and spotted Sister Katherine stalking towards them, her mouth pressed together in a tight, thin line, and Victoria resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This woman really did hear everything. When Sister Katherine she finally reached the two, she took Wes by the shoulder, and pointed him, roughly, towards the slop table. Victoria couldn't hear what was being said, but she saw the gleam in Wes's eye grow even brighter.

  Sister Katherine then turned to her, her mouth still closed tightly. "Don't lie to these children." Her eyes held the same wild fury that Victoria had only seen once before, and that was when she was praying. Victoria felt anger well up inside of her, at the hypocrisy of it all.

  "Isn't that what you do every day? Telling these children it will be okay, when you have no idea? You know none of these children will ever be anything, but yet every single day, YOU lie. Your lies aren't anymore holy than mine." Victoria looked her square in the face, and watched the emotions play across the older sister’s face like a slideshow. First, there was anger. The anger subsided a few seconds later, giving way to what Victoria could only describe as realization. That she was right, she thought, smugly.

  Sister Katherine's face sagged. She suddenly looked much older than her fifty two years, and a lone tear dribbled down her cheek, falling to the ground with an unnecessarily loud plop.

  Victoria stared, and then forced herself look away, uncertain of how to react. She had steeled herself against such emotions years ago, but to be confronted with them again so suddenly, Victoria felt her resolve beginning to give way. She stood there awkwardly for a moment, very aware of the heated stares the other nuns were sending her way, before walking towards the convent doors, each step quicker than the last.

  Upon reaching the doors, she yanked them open and hurried inside, grateful when the heavy oak doors shut behind her, blocking her from the rest of the nuns.

  She ran past the frescoes and skidded into her room. When she had finally shut and locked the door, she collapsed onto her bed, and stared up at the dusty ceiling. Victoria's mind wandered, to thoughts of Wes. She blinked, forcing back an uncomfortable wave of emotions as she imagined him still sitting there, drinking juice, and waiting for stories of his father. Stories that would never come.

  Her eyes drifted to the wall besides her, where a collection of ornate carvings littered the wall. It had been in times like these, when she was unable to express her emotions, so she taking to drawing...sort of. She didn't have any actual paintbrushes, so the next best thing was her dagger. Victoria eyed her drawings, noting how macabre they looked. Her eyes wandered to the door next, where several puncture holes stood out from the smooth oak exterior. If she was particularly angry, she would throw her dagger there. It helped her by allowing her to release anger and practice her throwing at the same time.

  Although she wasn't yet a fully ordained member of the "other" sisterhood, she had heard some of the younger sisters discussing it. Sister Raela was only three years Victoria's senior, but she was already ordained. Victoria had heard Raela and another sister, whose name she did not know, reliving a job they had just completed. How the man had just fallen to the ground, dagger protruding from his chest, blood pooling around his lifeless body. The feeling of vengeance, knowing that the world was now a better place. He’d been a trafficking lord, suspected of enslaving children, and that made the murder justified, they said.

  However, the last part of Raela's story made Victoria a little queasy. The part where they recalled how satisfying vengeance for the gods could feel.

  A nasty voice deep inside her whispered the truth that she liked to ignore. That she wanted to kill for vengeance too, and perhaps, for other reasons. She didn’t know why. She shook her head. That's not true, Victoria thought. People who kill for fun are the kind WE kill.


  Right?

  Victoria cleared the thoughts from her head. Sometimes she thought deeply about these things, but at other times, she couldn't be bothered, scoffing at the nuns like Sister Katherine who carried on with their "noble" charade each and every day. She wondered what the gods would say, to a group of nuns who carried out vengeance in his name. Vengeance they seemed to crave, in fact.

  She groped around in her bedside dresser drawer for her dagger. Ting. There was a soft, clang as her fingers clamored over the steel. Victoria slipped her fingers around the hilt, a jolt going through her body as she did. She loved her dagger, and it loved her back. With a quick twist of the wrist, she launched the dagger at a new target; the wall directly across from her bed. It landed its mark, with a dull crunch, wedging itself a good three or four inches in. She smiled, her anger abated for the meantime. She looked up at the wall, just above her quivering dagger. The mechanical clock above was just about to strike eight. Victoria shivered with anticipation. That meant it was just getting dark, and darkness meant...She didn't finish her train of thought, but instead looked to where her other robes lay shimmering in the darkness.

  Victoria moved toward the robes, but stopped when she noticed the doorknob turning very, very slowly. She froze, and then pulled her dagger from the wall as quietly as she could. "Come in." The door crept open, and Victoria tightened her grip on the dagger. Suddenly, Sister Raela burst through the door, toothy grin and all. Victoria had always thought she looked a bit like a rabbit, but at the moment, she was leaning towards chipmunk.

  "You're lucky, you know. I thought for sure that Katherine was going to kick you out, after your latest outburst" Raela threw up her hands for emphasis. "But apparently, they decided that the best thing for you would be to move up your initiation. It's tonight, you know. Personally, I think that they're just trying to get you killed, but, what do I know?” Raela laughed her tinkling laugh, and shut the door behind her, leaving Victoria standing there, dagger in hand, and shocked beyond belief.

  II.

  She knew it would be soon, just not this soon. Victoria thought back to earlier in the day, to her so called outburst. She felt a dreading sensation in her gut that she supposed was guilt. She'd never felt guilty before, instead choosing to point out the contradiction game that she and everyone else played, to Sister Katherine’s dismay. But usually, Sister Katherine would just say some very unholy words, and tell her to get back to scrubbing. But today, she had cried, and for the first time in her life, Victoria almost wanted to apologize. Almost.

  Victoria shook her head again, clearing away the thoughts. She didn't apologize. In her experience, no one ever meant it.

  She undressed, and slid into her other robes. She marveled as she watched them nearly disappear into the shadows of her room. She tied the belt, the only part of the robe that wasn't black as night. Instead, it had a tiny, but brilliant sliver of gold. Victoria swished the belt around and watched as everything but the gold sliver disappeared into the darkness. It was probably a truly terrifying image, Victoria thought, to see nothing but a swish of gold, right before your life ended.

  Victoria adjusted her robes once more before opening the door, and heading out. The walk down the familiar stretch of hallway seemed different this time. Since she wasn't a part of the other sisterhood, as soon as the sun fell, she was confined to her room. The hallway after dark felt older, and more sinister. The lit torches on the inner walls provided some relief, but they could not help shake Victoria's nervousness.

  She reached the doorway, leading out to where she had scrubbed Wes's back earlier in the day. Just as she raised her hand to turn the doorknob, Victoria felt a hand come down hard on her shoulder. "This way." The voice was old, older than any voice she had ever heard at the convent, and certainly not one she recognized.

  The hand pulled her blindly back into the darkness, and Victoria heard the sound of a door being pushed open. She hadn't known there was another door here. The thought that perhaps there were other hidden doors disturbed her more than she would like admit. As the hand continued to pull her backwards, there was a moment where all went completely black.

  The hand disappeared from her shoulder, and for a moment, Victoria felt uncontrollable panic racing inside of her. She heard breathing to her right, but could not pinpoint exactly where it was. Then, footsteps. Coming from where, she didn't know, but she knew they were getting closer. Instinctively, she turned to run, but as quickly as they began, they stopped.

  "Go. Onward." Had the ceiling been low, Victoria would have jumped right through it. The voice was now directly behind her, mere inches from her neck.

  "Go where?" she asked, when she was sure that she would be able to keep the quake from her voice. "Onward." The voice rumbled.

  As if onward had been the coveted magic word, a torch was lit. Then another, and another, until there was a line of torches lighting up a path between Victoria's feet.

  She felt a rough push on her shoulder, and she stumbled forward. The path was slick, with dark liquid, and she flailed her arms, looking about helplessly for a wall for support. Her hand soon collided with stone, and she gripped it gratefully.

  Victoria continued down the path, feeling its slight downward slant. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she was heading towards a dungeon. The path grew steeper and she had to grip the wall a bit harder to stay steady.

  After a few more minutes of walking, her feet hit solid ground. She stumbled forward, groping the air wildly. The wall had ended, and suddenly she was out in the open, feeling extremely vulnerable. She reached down into her pocket and her fingers closed around her dagger. The familiarity of it gave her strength, and she staggered forward, feeling only a minute safer. Victoria walked forward for some time, attempting to acquaint herself with her surroundings. She was sure that she wasn't outside, as she would have smelled the fresh air. The air, however, seemed almost musty, so Victoria, much to her dismay, reasoned she was in some sort of dungeon. She was still walking forward until suddenly, she stopped, hearing noise in the nearby distance.

  She squinted, and in the distance, she could just barely make out the rosy glow of a small fire, illuminating the wall behind it. Victoria gripped her dagger with more force, the silver tip cutting just slightly into her fleshy palm.

  The fire grew closer, and Victoria felt her heart thudding in her ears. It was so loud that she almost didn't make out the chanting that was growing progressively louder. When she did, she stopped again, to listen. "Glory to our maker. Glory to our maker. We deliver his justice."

  This is definitely the right place, Victoria thought, and she continued forward. As she did, the glow of the fire grew brighter, and she could make out shadowy outlines of robed women. From somewhere nearby, Victoria heard Raela's tinkling laugh. Definitely the right place.

  "Victoria. It is time." It was Sister Katherine who spoke. Victoria felt a sliver of unease in the pit of her stomach, but she shoved it away with the gleeful thoughts of how soon she'd be able to test out her dagger on something other than a target dummy.

  "On this night, we are here to commemorate another sister's joining into this sacred sisterhood." Victoria marveled at Sister Katherine's voice. She'd only ever seen her when she serving as a nun, when she was soft spoken and gentle. This Sister was different. She sounded like a leader. Absentmindedly, Victoria began to wonder if perhaps she shouldn't question her so much, because this Katherine sounded like she could kill her.

  "Victoria No Name arrived at this convent sixteen years ago. She was wrapped in only a thin blanket and her stomach was bloated, as like most starved children."

  Victoria leaned closer so that she could hear the rest of her introduction.

  She didn't know much about the "other" sisterhood, but she knew a few things. Every time a new member was inducted in, there was usually an introduction. The introduction would tell a bit about the person, situations they struggled through, and in the end, brand them anew. Victoria couldn't wait f
or the last part. Since she was born a bastard child, she had no last name, and no recollection of her true parents. It would be nice to get a name all her own, she mused.

  "We took her in, and taught her the ways of kindness." A low chuckle came from somewhere in the background, followed by what sounded like a swift kick to the shins. Sister Katherine cleared her throat and started again. "We taught her the ways of kindness." But now, we will teach her those of vengeance. It will be up to her to determine how those tools are best used. But most importantly, it will be up to her, how she lets them affect herself."

  The tittering in the background grew louder. It was almost time for her branding. Victoria's heart pounded in her chest, as she waited anxiously, hands trembling. Finally, Sister Katherine spoke again.

  "I therefore brand you Victoria Slade, official sister of the Other Sisterhood." The room, if one could call it that, erupted in applause. "Victoria! Victoria! Victoria!” All at once, the shadowy outlines stepped forward, surrounded Victoria, and began to chant again. As they chanted her name, the fire grew higher and higher, and the chants grew increasingly wild and primal. From somewhere in the darkness, a drum thumped along to their chanting, and tambourines still followed. Victoria whipped her hair around furiously and began to chant her own name as well as the crowd behind her roared in succession. Louder and louder they howled, until it felt like the very earth was chanting and swaying along with them. Victoria Slade! Victoria Slade! Victoria Slade!

  III.

  The next morning, Victoria awoke, her head feeling slightly woozy. She remembered nothing but chanting. The chants still echoed in her head, and she felt a sudden surge of pride rush through her body. She was a fully fledged member now, and had something to look forward to after dusk. Killing people...for fun whispered the tiny voice in her head. "Rainbows and sunshine! Rainbows and sunshine!" Victoria burst into song, in attempts to silence the voice. It didn't know what it was talking about. Imaginary voices never did.