The Long, Young Night

The scent of old wood and cold stone always felt like home to Maria. It hung heavy in the nightly silence of the chapel, broken only by the rhythmic, metallic click of her thimble against the needle.

Her head bobbed without notice before she rubbed her eyes; they burned in the low candlelight, focusing on the uneven stitch on a wool sleeve.

Leo had caught his sleeve on the garden gate again, and if she didn’t finish it now, he’d be running around in the morning with his elbow poking through. The other children would no doubt tease him. She chuckled softly at the thought.

But she simply couldn't have that; the boy was already growing out of his clothes faster than she could find fabric to patch them.

She glanced at the pile of clothes beside her chair still needing mending. It hadn’t shrunk nearly enough, but she couldn’t help but smile softly. A long night awaited her.

A sudden, heavy thud against the heavy oak doors almost made her jump.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It was far too late for someone seeking a confessional or a simple blessing, but Maria was on her feet before the third strike finished. She didn't ask who was there; she instead leaned her head against the wood and hissed a whisper.

"Shhh! You’ll wake the children!"

She cracked the door open. Old Bill, one of the local farmers, stood trembling and gasping for air, his face pale as milk.

"Sister Maria... please." His voice cracked. "My boy. A monster at the edge of the fields. He’s... he’s not going to make it."

Maria didn't ask for details. She almost never did. She simply grabbed her cloak from the peg by the door. "Lead the way, Bill.”

***

Maria shivered.

It was a relatively short walk to Old Bill’s farm at the edge of the village. The autumn air at night was especially cool, but that's not what caused the goosebumps. She just didn’t expect to find his son in such bad shape.

They had him lying in the living room. His mother knelt beside him, and younger siblings wept, huddled to the side. 

The boy was just a few years younger than Maria, in his late teens, but as she learned from Old Bill, when livestock had gone missing with more frequency, the boy took it into his own hands. But now, not only was he missing one, but nearly the entire arm.

Maria carefully unwrapped his heavy, blood-soaked bandages. It’d long soaked through and into the fabric underneath. How much scrubbing would it take to clean that rug? It might’ve been a lost cause. The most she’d had to deal with at home were nosebleeds and a few scraped knees. Easy enough to clean up, really. Maybe a broken arm or two. Easy enough to mend.

Maria was far from a medic, but healing magic was hard to come by, especially in such a far-out village. She was just glad she could help with the little power she had to offer.

The boy gritted his teeth; his breathing grew ragged. Something with jagged teeth and no mercy had torn half his left arm off.

“I’m… not sure how much I can help this time, but I’ll try best,” Maria said.

The mother spoke with a coarse voice. “Thank you, Sister… Just do what you can.”

When the boy’s eyes flickered in and out, the mother turned away with a sob.

Old Bill stood with his eyes shut tight, and hands clasped even tighter. He muttered prayers under his breath.

Maria nodded. “I’m sure the gods will hear our prayers.” She gently clasped her own hands. “Gracious gods, who provide the sun for the wheat and the moon for our rest... please look down upon this soul.” The air hummed with every word while Maria unclasped her hands and hovered her palms just above the boy’s injury. “Let him be whole again.”

As the last words left her lips, the air beneath her palms ignited. A magic circle of spun gold manifested in the dark, lighting the farmhouse more than the lanterns could ever hope to. Three concentric rings filled it, each rotating in opposite directions with ancient characters that flickered like embers.

The family overlooked the radiance with wide eyes as it spread across the boy’s mangled remains of an arm.

Under Maria’s hands, muscle wove itself together like silk thread. Bone regenerated and lengthened until thick and white, while blood vessels and various layers of flesh covered it. It ended with a top layer of smooth skin with minimal blemishes, right up to the tips of the fingers.

Maria fell back with a thud. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and strained a smile at the family who stared with their mouths agape.

"Phew," Maria said. The boy was unconscious, but his breathing had returned to normal, and relief filled his face. "I’m glad it worked. It was just a little healing, but he lost a lot of blood. He should probably avoid lifting heavy things for another week."

"A little healing?" Bill choked out, staring at the perfectly reformed arm. "Sister... you just grew a limb back from nothing. That’s... You’re truly a saint!”

Maria let out a nervous chuckle, shaking her head. “Oh, no. It wasn’t anything special, really. The gods were just very kind tonight. To be honest, I was a bit nervous when I saw how bad the injury was.” She staggered to her feet. 

“And still, you were able to remain so composed,” Bill said.

Maria nodded. “Once I started, it wasn’t all that different from the time I healed one of the children back at the chapel. He showed up on the steps with the bone practically sticking through his skin.”

Old Bill rubbed his head with an uneasy expression.

“Honestly,” Maria continued, “the hardest part of the whole thing was convincing him to stop crying long after the bone was already mended.”

Maria tilted her head at Bills blank face. All he could do was reply to her with a dry chuckle.

Bill’s wife interrupted with a hug almost tight enough to take Maria’s breath away. She struggled to speak while the overly grateful mother’s warm tears rubbed against her cheek. “I really must get back. I still have a pile of clothes to mend before sunrise.”

The family thanked her graciously and offered what little they had, though Maria insisted it wasn’t necessary.

But as the night’s cool air refreshed her lungs, before taking the moonlit road back home, there was still some unfinished business. 

Past the fields, where farmland met the forest, a group of men stood with torches and pitchforks.

“Sister Maria!” one called out as she approached. “You see what they done to Old Bill’s boy?”

“Thanks to the gods, he made it through,” Maria said.

“You’re too kind to us, Sister!” another called out.

“Those beasts though,” one man pointed to the forest with his torch, “they are still hovering around. It’s not safe.”

Slit eyes glowed within the darkness of the forest.

“And even if we had the coin to request an adventurer,” another man added, “ain’t no one coming out to these parts to help.”

Maria scratched her head. Her warm, honey colored hair waved along with the breeze. “It is quite a trek from the nearest guild.”

“We’ll take care of it ourselves!”

The group of men hollered and waved their pitchforks and torches, but as more and more glowing eyes blinked within the darkness, the men grew silent.

Maria stepped forward. “I’ll help scare them off.” Her boots crunched the scattered dry leaves beneath them.

“S-Sister, careful…”

This time, she didn’t even cast a spell. There was no need. She focused her mana, and the men stepped back. Her divine magic power seeped out, rippling through the air. The beasts within the forest growled and whimpered before their glowing eyes disappeared deep within the ocean of trees.

Chatter soon filled the silence behind her.

“Amazing…”

“She really scared them off!”

Maria turned to them with a smile. “Just to be safe, I’ll cast a protective blessing.”

All it took was a simple prayer, and a golden magic circle manifested in front of her extended arms. The edge of the forest and the surrounding fields became aglow with warm radiance.

The men stood without word.

“There. That should keep them away for a while," she said.

“S-Sister… We are truly blessed that you are a part of this village.”

Laughter erupted among the men.

“Seriously, we wouldn’t be here without you!”

“How can we ever repay you?”

Maria chuckled nervously. “Please, it’s okay. You all already do so much for the chapel. I’m just glad I can help a little.”

She waved goodbye to the men and finally made her way back home. It was the same dirt road that led to Old Bill’s house; usually not a long walk, but her legs had grown heavy.

Upon arriving back, she creaked open the heavy wooden doors and walked past small shoes lined up by the entrance.

“The night is still young…”

At the corner of her eye, movement beneath the waving shadows of lanterns and candles tugged at her. Did she wake the children? But upon investigating, nothing was there apart from a stray stuffed bunny.

She whispered past a heavy sigh. “Time to finish the mending!”

Stray streaks of a new day’s light filtered through the window while Maria continued her sewing. 

The night was still young indeed.