The Figureheads

Under the orders of High Priestess Laçais, two armored guards escorted Atrina from the basilica to the House of Saint Methusaleh. No mobs harassed the sorceress, for although her protection was minimal, the people of Diosveil obeyed clerical authority. Hatred radiated from a crowd that watched the witch, but she did her best to ignore them.

After an uncomfortable five minute walk, Atrina arrived at the House of Saint Methusaleh. Compared to Saint Zechariah’s Basilica, the guesthouse seemed less spectacular, but its own grandeur impressed the sorceress. Seven stories high, the residence housed visiting officials and high-ranking members of the Church.

Atrina gasped as she walked through the entrance's polished wood doors. The floors were of mirror-like marble, and luxurious velvet seats were placed next to lush indoor shrubbery. A grand staircase led to the upper floors, and a set of doors as extravagant as the entrance had a broad transom that gave an ample view of the residence’s splendid courtyard.

One of the guards informed the witch that her room was on the third floor. Then, a woman stamped her heel on the grand staircase’s landing.

“Unbelievable! Laçais didn’t even have the decency to let us know that we were getting a new convert today.”

Atrina looked around and pointed to herself. “Me? You have the wrong idea. I’m not here to—”

The woman kicked up a fuss as she ran down the stairs. “On top of preparations for the Day of Expiation, we have to go through the whole gamut of our duties: kissing babies, blessing rituals, initiating new converts—oh, what am I doing just yapping? Come with me!”

The witch’s arm was on the verge of dislocating when the fussing woman seized her wrist and tugged her up the stairs. Atrina did not get a chance to learn the building’s layout as her guide stopped on the fifth floor and zipped through the hallways.

Rushing through the residence, Atrina caught sporadic glimpses of the complainer. She had light nutmeg eyes, cream-colored skin, and shoulder-length auburn locks. The woman exuded tension, and she was of a height with Atrina.

The tense woman rounded a corner, and the two were stopped abruptly by a tall man who blocked their path. Atrina nearly crashed into the complainer who did not let go of her wrist.

“D-Deacon Mikhail? What are you doing here?” stammered Atrina’s guide.

The man known as Mikhail was a fine individual, with round lips, prominent cheekbones, and a head of well-groomed copper hair. Garbed in an embroidered deacon’s tunic, he smiled radiantly and answered with a honeyed voice, “I was hoping to catch you on my way to the basilica, but it looks like your hands are full.”

The deacon noticed Atrina, and his gray eyes widened. For a moment, the witch thought the man recognized her, but his answer to the fussing woman suggested otherwise. “...Another convert, I see. That’s the fifth one this month! The High Priestess is keeping you busy, Minucia.”

“Ugh, tell me about it. I’m up to my neck in work! I’m stuck here doing all the boring stuff while Sylvina gets to prance about as the people’s maiden.”

Atrina broke free of Minucia’s grasp and exclaimed, “I. Am. Not. Converting!”

Reeling back from the witch’s outburst, Minucia asked, “What are you here for, then?”

“I was sent here by the High Priestess to stay on the third floor before you abducted me, you pea brain!”

“What? Laçais must be losing her marbles! She is just letting pagans share space with us? I swear that woman gets on my nerves. She has the audacity to scold me for my vices, and yet she willingly houses a heretic here in the capital?”

“Not much of an issue, since I don’t have anywhere to stay thanks to you!”

The deacon moved close to Minucia and spoke into her ear, “What vices do you speak of?”

“Oh, Mikhail, you fiend!” Minucia playfully slapped the man’s shoulder, and the witch felt as if she was watching an interaction not meant for her eyes. Then, Atrina had a flash of inspiration.

“If you lovebirds have nothing better to do than flirt, could one of you please take me to the library? I’ve been given permission by the High Priestess to go there.”

Blushing, Minucia and Mikhail withdrew from each other. The deacon offered, “I can take you there.”

Atrina almost accepted when Minucia stepped in. “No, it’s alright, Mikhail. Just go to the basilica.”

The deacon winked in response and teased, “Don’t work too hard.”

Minucia watched Mikhail walk away for a prolonged period, and Atrina had to remind her guide of what she just said she would do.

Coming back to her senses, Minucia regarded the witch, and a mischievous smile stretched across her face. “Actually, I’m a little too busy right now, but I have just the person who can help you.”

The woman’s puckish tone did not inspire confidence in Atrina, but the witch acquiesced to Minucia’s suggestion.

Minucia led Atrina down the hall to an opulent suite that the complainer entered without knocking. “Hey, Sylvie, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

-

A peach-skinned woman sat on a divan near an open window, staring out at the streets below. She and Minucia wore the same white chitons. The woman's platinum blonde mane blew softly in the late afternoon breeze. “Trying to shirk your duties again, Minnie?”

“Of course not! Unlike some people, I actually do work around here, instead of lazing around, Sylvina.” Minucia spoke the woman’s name with a derisive edge.

“Is that why I’m done with my duties before you?”

“Why you—seeing that you have nothing but free time now, bring this lady to the library, ‘kay? High Priestess’ orders and all that.”

Sylvina turned her distant emerald green eyes to the witch. “Why, hello. What’s your name?”

“Atrina.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Atrina. I am the Divine Maiden Sylvina, and I believe you already met Divine Maiden Minucia.”

The women’s titles sounded familiar to the witch. Hold on a second, Eurielle mentioned something about protecting Divine Maidens. There’s nothing divine about Minucia, but Sylvina I get...sort of.

Minucia mocked Sylvina before leaving the suite. “Have fun with the witch.”

Atrina gave the remaining Divine Maiden a confused look. “When I hear the words ‘divine’ and ‘maiden’ together in a sentence, I don’t picture anybody like her.”

Sylvina covered her mouth as she chuckled. “Neither do I, but it was God’s will to make her one, and so we share that station in life.”

“What exactly is a Divine Maiden?”

“You really don’t know?” Sylvina was not offended but rather shocked by Atrina’s lack of knowledge. The witch’s blank stare accompanied by the shaking of her head prompted Sylvina to explain.

“A Divine Maiden is a servant of God, acting as an embodiment of His will through a lifetime of virtue and obedience. As a Divine Maiden is bound in servitude to the Lord, she is also bound in servitude to the people who exalt His name.”

“I didn’t get any of that, if I’m being honest, but all I heard was how many people you serve. Is that all you do? Act as some chaste figurehead for people to fawn over?”

Sylvina thought about Atrina’s question for some time. Then, she responded, “That’s not all we do. Alongside the High Priestess, we perform rituals that are vital to the faith of this nation, such as the upcoming Day of Expiation.”

The witch asked out of empty courtesy, “Which is?”

“It is the day we remember Saint Zechariah’s martyrdom at the hands of heretics, and the day we honor his selfless sacrifice by begging for the Creator's forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness for what?”

“For closing our eyes and ears to Saint Zechariah’s gospel when he needed followers the most.”

Atrina heard enough. “Wow, superb, extraordinary. Can we go to the library now?”

Sylvina shook her head. “I would like to help you, but I need to receive the order directly from the High Priestess. Minnie has a history of relaying fake orders, and I don't know you well enough to take your word. However, it is at this time that I meet with Minnie and the High Priestess for dinner. Care to join us?”

One more setback. One more, and I’m going to blow the goddamn roof off this place! The witch came dangerously close to verbally thrashing Sylvina before having a realization. Actually, this woman sounds extremely important. If I can win points with her, I might be better off for it.

Stiffly, Atrina accepted the maiden’s offer.

-

The witch and the Divine Maiden went down to the common dining hall on the first floor. Laçais and Minucia were already seated at a round table covered by a linen tablecloth.

Minucia did not bother to greet Atrina or Sylvina while Laçais gave a warm salutation.

The High Priestess still wore her vestment, and her straight midnight hair was covered by a ceremonial veil. “I apologize for not sending you an escort to the library today, Atrina. My duties required me for longer than usual, but tomorrow I will ensure that you are assisted.”

“I can take her there,” Sylvina chimed.

“Dear child, are you done with all your other tasks?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been done for a few days now, while Minnie here keeps falling behind.”

Minucia lashed out, “Screw you!”

“Minucia, language!” yelled Laçais.

The room went quiet until the High Priestess spoke once more. “Sylvina, it is most admirable of you to help Atrina. The Lord looks kindly upon the benevolent. Does that satisfy you, Atrina?”

The witch was pressing down on the bowl of her spoon. “Sure, sure, whatever.”

A male servant carried steaming porcelain bowls to the table on a silver platter. “Dinner is served, Your Holiness. Tonight’s meal is snail stew.”

“Excellent. Ladies, let us say grace.”

Atrina jumped from her seat, and everyone stared at her. Awkwardly, the witch wrung her hands. “M-mind if I wait outside while you pray?”

“Not at all,” said the High Priestess, “but please come back before the food gets cold.”

The witch darted out the hall and into the residence’s courtyard. Fallen leaves tumbled along the ground in the autumn wind, and Atrina held her breath, hoping that she would not suffer as the women prayed.