The Acolyte Gets Sticky, Soaked, and Sleepy!?

When over three days passed, Hilda felt like she was getting an understanding of when the talisman would loosen.
Its nebulous criteria included whenever it wasn’t being focused on, or the Goddess wasn’t being honored enough, or whatever other reason she might be disregarding it.
That conclusion could be derived from intense faith or intensifying exhaustion.
Hilda hoped it was the former.
Thanks to that knowledge, plus the rations Avessi provided, she was able to sleep more easily, even with the threat of an unleashed gryphon hanging over her shoulder, or under it as the situation seemed.
As her ‘sleep’ consisted of naps chained together, interspersed with panic as she scrambled to pick the talisman off the floor, she was able to slip into a dreamlike state more often.
Though it was hard to recall anything about those dreams when she awoke, there was a warmth within those that was totally unlike the fire pit.
It reminded her of days long past when she first demonstrated her aptitude as an acolyte and became inducted into the Church.
One of those occasions was when a nun taught her a lesson she swore to never forget.
“Remember, the love…”
Before she could actually recall what that was, the dawn came to rouse her from her dream. Both the nun and the words she spoke disappeared with the morning mist.
With one hand rubbing her pink-as-pearl eyes, Hilda took a look around.
“There’s… still some dark out…”
Nothing else could show up. The initial fear about creatures outdoors had faded since the talisman’s protection proved itself.
Hilda began to wake up. As she boiled the water she’d gathered previously, hoping the elderberries would be enough to dilute its stale aftertaste.
“Blehhh…”
It shone through the sweetness of the fruit.
With two days done since she first arrived at this shrine, Hilda busied herself reflecting on two questions on her mind that’d come to the forefront.

First, most importantly, how did anyone ever leave this statue alone if it was always in danger of having its seal broken?

It was agonizing having to pay attention almost to the point she couldn’t do anything else.

Second, who were those people that tasked ‘Tiva’ with guarding the Gryphon statue?

Hilda thought back to the meeting at that cafe, and the orange-haired acolyte she’d substituted for.

“Wasn’t that girl’s name Beatrice… anyway, what’s with the raindrop emblem those people had…”

Before she could finish her thought, the talisman dropped straight into the tea cup.

“Piyiyyaaaa it’s hooot!”

She nursed her fingers after foolishly pulling the talisman out in a panic. Those who seemed to never need food nor drink nor sleep felt as distant to her as the heavens.

Her thoughts turned to the greatest heroes of the Church had amazing abilities, seeming as though their fates as guardians were set from birth.

Yet for her self deprecation she knew they dealt with extreme trials on their path to becoming recognized by the Goddess.

“Could this… be my trial…? As if… Haha… Beatrice, your name’s not Tiva either… What’s going on..”

That apparition still stuck out in her mind.

A vicious appearance with deadly-looking claws and a body that seemed like it was primed to strike; such a monster lived up to the legends she heard.

Why it seemed so brutal without any of the regal aura she’d heard it held was a different question altogether.

Hilda had no knowledge of what this gryphon was. Multiple possibilities sprung in her mind.

Similar to how gargoyles could appear near churches, this could’ve been a guardian at some point.

Worse, it could have been one of the evil gryphons.

There were plenty of cases where answers to difficult questions would come in due time; Hilda tried to assure herself both the talisman and people weren’t too much of a problem.

As she neared the end of the cup, another thought burst into her head.

“…They’ll probably realize I’m not Tiva when they investigate. M-Maybe I’m worrying too much.”

That was the tipping point. Hilda immediately gave up and began squirming around on the floor.

“Aahh… thank you, whoever put this rug down…”

Rolla-rolla-rollo-rollo…

Same as how she imagined it, the pious acolyte was rolling around on the floor like a caterpillar, or maybe a pillbug.

After witnessing a scary sight, then enduring two nights with poor sleep and seemingly no hope of respite, Hilda was taking what she could get.

The rug lining most of the shrine felt made of velvet, like it came from the silken lands by the sea.
There was little scent to it, as if the talisman purified all comers.
There was no sense that anyone else had been here before her.

In short, it was paradise.

Hilda laughed happily as she rolled around. Not once did the talisman dislodge at this point, she was free to goof off and enjoy herself.
How did that work if she was enjoying this opulent rug so much?
The answer to that must have been Hilda crediting the talisman, keeping it in mind even as she appreciated its texture!
These bizarre conclusions made perfect sense in her head which was racing for anything to avoid the siren song of slumber.

While she thought about her problems, she turned to face the ceiling. Something about the way the corners of the dome had edging in them reminded Hilda of a vast sun.

When the sun was out, that meant the rain would usually stay away.

“Raindrop pattern. This… da…. G-great talisman. A gryphon statue it keeps slipping off. Tiva. This shrine…. Uuu… there’s gotta be a connection somewhere…”

Hilda folded her arms together while she kept her smooth feet dangling in the air. She’d heard it helped with thinking.

All that did was make her itch, so she quickly dropped that idea, and her feet, to the floor.

“But I don’t have enough here.”

She sighed. In the end, she was still a teenage girl.

Choosing the life of an acolyte hadn’t meant she was ready for all types of mysteries.
Her gaze turned to the glorified counter of a table which held the utensils. Now it gained some companions thanks to Avessi’s charity.
A couple of gray clay bars, sleep-inducing emergency rations, a wooden staff that could be kindling in a pinch, and a small pouch that looked barely big enough to hold the talisman inside of it Hilda had yet to open.
It was time to fight off the sleepiness with a morning walk.
“First there’s that… stupid clay…”
It wasn’t much but any adhesive might be worth trying.
She plucked a bar from the table and set out, shivering almost immediately after she left the barrier.
There was plenty of sunlight to work with despite the darkness noted, so Hilda pressed onwards.
“Friver… river…”
As should’ve been obvious from the spread of elderberry bushes of all varieties, there was a substantial brook babbling right alongside the edge.
That didn’t mean it was easy to source water. Much of the coastal space was taken up by trunks and branches.
The groups of elderberries surrounding the vicinity had to have been there for years judging from the sheer spread of their growth.

Even the wayside shrine, which Hilda felt was pretty tall at its tip, couldn’t measure up to some of them.

Autumn’s chill caused even the most impressive of those to yellow. Once more Hilda felt aware of how fleeting her life could be…

‘I won’t fade like these leaves.’

After Avessi mentioned seeing the very same man that Hilda last saw, she felt herself worrying for the worst.
Rather than wait to be picked up, it’d be better to learn what was happening even if there was a risk the talisman would slip off!
Speaking of which, she kept her footsteps light, her sandals never pressing down hard enough to make the fallen leaves crack, so she could better hear the sound if the talisman fell.
If she managed to hear it drop on the carpeting, or catch sight of a beak out of the corner of her eye, she was already resolved to dash back.
Even if she had to run on all fours like a dog.
The humiliation was nothing compared to the terror she felt seeing the griffin staring back at her.
Even if it was only an apparition, time only seemed to make that memory feel solid.
She walked alongside the bushes, hoping to see an opening between the bushes soon.
While she’d gathered water the other day, it was hard to remember the exact location.
If there was nothing to find, then obviously all the advice on survival given by those teachers was false. Who, then, would be exacting revenge on them? Who would avenge the tears of everyone led astray?
In the midst of plotting vengeance, it withered away when Hilda spotted a chance to get closer to the river after a few minutes of walking.
Looking back she could estimate she could run back to the shrine.
Whilst praying her hopes to the Goddess that the talisman hadn’t fallen off yet, Hilda, clay bar in hand, dunked the clay in water. Then her arm, in the frigid chill, twirling it around back and forth to let the water soak into the clay.
Regrets came in an icy blanket.
“Brhh… why-why did I try this so early, my hand’s gonna freeze…”
Hilda rushed to pull her hand out and shook it to get the water off.
This meant accidentally letting go of the clay bar.
The one that she walked all the way out here to soak.
She watched as the clay bar was swept away by the river.
That clay.
She felt her regrets mounting but she had no choice!
Her being, her everything, depended on her sleep schedule!
Saving her sleep schedule depended on testing this clay!
“Get back here…! Get back…”
If anyone were watching, they’d see a girl on sandals yelling at a block escaping on the river.
Five minutes later and Hilda was shaking from head to toe in front of the fire pit, trying to squeeze the water from her dress without making it burn on the flame or dousing it.
Stripping was, of course, out of the question.
Not when she wasn’t sure if the Gryphon was a boy or girl yet.
“Ghh… Goddess… p-p-php-lease watch over this acolyte as she tries to keep one of your servants properly seated… achoo!”
Hilda worked the clay whilst she sneezed and sniffled. Even If it felt like handling ice in the moment, she wasn’t going to quit. To Hilda, it felt like she was triumphing over the talisman.
“You’re gonna stay still today…”
As she said that, she saw it start to slip off.
“Did you wait for me to say that!?”
She quickly slathered the clay around it whilst pushing it back into place.
The girl grumbled as she looked at the sticky gray substance coating her hands. Obviously the best solution was to wash her hands off. Obviously, this shrine forgot to include a sink. Obviously, if she went all the way back out to the stream she’d freeze.
Should she try to dry it off at the fire pit she’d still have to wash her hands of the cracked clay later.
But the rug was still so plush and soft, and the shrine was warm and cozy. There wasn’t any need to put sandals on indoors, too.
Plus the talisman was secured thanks to the clay…
It didn’t take long for Hilda to decide on convenience.
The sun was halfway through the sky by the point she woke up from a nap and began peeling clay off her palms.
“There… this should keep it secure.”
Hilda looked up at the statue where clay secured the talisman.
The talisman slipped through it like nothing held it back.
Hilda gained a new appreciation for the talisman’s power... and the fate of her sleep.