Cognitive Dissonance

The next morning came quickly. Zula had spent most of the evening dusting and cleaning the temporary living quarters she was assigned inside of the church. At the back of the building sat a wide altar that encased a gnarled, decaying tree—a shrine that no doubt was once beautiful and flourishing. And at a moment during the night when a bout of insomnia had called to her, it was also where she sat when she decided to spend a little bit of time reading a new book she had purchased before the trip. Now, the sunless light of dawn had begun gradually creeping in through the grimy, opaque window and scarcely illuminating the cramped, dank room where she slept. It was a decrepit building that housed no electricity and the candles she had lit for light had gone out quickly during the night. The young priestess rose and sat up on the makeshift futon she had assembled using blankets she brought from home and proceeded to dress herself for the long day ahead. Along with a new, shorter black robe and a glimmering scapular that ran down the center of her body came a few new ritual accoutrements provided by Sister Marie the day previous. Small accessories that had been stashed away in secret church vaults intended for Scarlet Sisters during sacramental duty.

Under the sleeves of her robe there was a newly affixed pair of gilded armored sleeves. The golden plating was replete with intricate, runic designs etched onto plating that reached up past her elbows. Her slender legs were fastened with similar golden plated boots that stretched just up beyond her thighs. In place of her old, dour blinder was now a sharp, golden-patterned visor that coalesced downwards into a keen, pointed end reaching just past her nose and completely shielding her eyes from view. Engraven on it were two, large ornate eyes.

Leaning across from her was a long, jagged staff from whose top jutted out a curved, elongated blade. Zulema stared at herself reflected in the gleaming metal. She had hesitated to reach for it, despite being trained in its usage as a weapon for years at the priory. Eventually, she left it undisturbed in its corner of the room and exited the ancient chapel after checking the other rooms and finding no one. Her newly armored feet made heavy footfalls in the snow as she made her way down far afield towards the base where the soldiers of Malachias had been stationed.

Below the snow-capped canopies, several men and women, garbed in their white tabarded uniforms, were scrambling left and right. The larger, surrounding outpost was walled in by spiked wooden logs and looming watchtowers on each corner. Among the throng of soldiers was an imposing, bearded gentleman that kept vigil from a portable desk, where he had also been going over piles of paperwork. Everyone immediately quieted down the moment they spotted the specially trained soldier of the church, Zulema, entering the base.

“Lieutenant,” called the gilded priestess, who had marched directly to the bearded man’s table. “The Scarlet Church has received your request for special aide. My sisters and I have arrived in response.”

“Sister. Right. It’s good to see you.”

“And it’s nice to see you and your soldiers are still standing. I assume you are aware that such requests for aid can only be rendered through extenuating circumstances. That being said, what is the standing situation report of the mission so far? And how can we be of assistance?”

“This would be extenuating circumstances and then some. Aside from the new toys the enemies have been putting out, we’ve been losing contact with numerous of our squads, most during routine patrol. Normally I’d chalk it up to enemy advancement catching our soldiers off-guard but there hasn't been any enemy activity to speak of. And then the other day we had a… situation.”

“What kind of situation?" She cocked an eyebrow.

“Well, around dawn that day, one of our scouting parties had a little run-in with the enemy.” The lieutenant sighed, trying his best to put into words what he’d wanted to say. “At least, something that used to be them.”

“Come again?”

“Bodies. Torn into pieces. Some were ripped from head to toe. Others were missing various parts, but I can blame the local wildlife for that one. What I can’t blame on them is the massive slash marks across some of these remains. Nothing around here I’m aware of could leave marks like that.”

Zulema frowned. It was the exact same situation she had heard about back home. But if this was the reason she was here, why didn’t they tell her about it?

“We think whatever took out those men is also what got to our missing boys and girls.” He looked around nervously. “Our scouts brought back what they could if you’d like to take a look?”

Zulema followed the lieutenant into the medical tent. At the far end stood Sister Lucia, dressed in a similar yet somewhat different robe distinctive from her own. Whereas Zulema was wearing a short robe with gold plated gloves and leggings, Lucia had donned a flowing black tunic dress, her armor colored an obsidian black marked with golden engravings. In place of her blinder, there were now flowing layers of black fabric twisting around her head and covering most of her face—an aureate veil was peeking from between the spaces in the cloth. Her small ears poked out delicately, pierced by large golden rings. Completing the icing on this enigmatic cake was a golden wreath made of various sharp laurels in the shape of eyes sitting firmly on her head. She was methodically standing over a table and examining the remains of something that once resembled a human.

"Zules!" came the voice from behind her veil, a peeking eye visible enough to express her joy. "What a disgusting mess we have here. Do you think those Kuranesian bastards actually got their hands on some kind of magical beast? And look at what it cost those idiots! There's a reason we don't employ those kinds of tactics here. Looks like they bit off more than they could chew."

"Oh, Sister," called the Lieutenant. "I didn't realize one of you was already back here."

"Dismissed, soldier," stated Lucia. "We're taking the reins from here. I've already done what I could for your soldiers here. They won't be feeling any pain for a while."

“We will offer a prayer for them,” Zulema said to the lieutenant before turning to Lucia, mildly concerned. "You healed them all?"

"In a way." She smirked behind her veil.

The lieutenant left the two priestesses alone, a mark of confused irritation on his face.

"It's not like you to cut corners," remarked Zulema.

"We've a more pressing matter, Zules. This situation clearly takes the priority cake. Those people know what they signed up for, and so do we. You can’t conveniently forget your scythe every time you’re confronted with a problem that’s easier to just cut down, so woman up.”

Zulema remained silent.

“It’s reap or be reaped. We've got some serious battles to fight out there. And they've got theirs. The sooner our boys are back out there, the faster we win this war!"

“How did you heal those soldiers, Luci?"

"The injured? I simply made them forget the sensation of pain. Something you probably could've done with a lot less mental trauma now that I think about it. As for the comatose, they won’t be feeling drowsy for a spell. Hmm, maybe Marie should've switched our assignments."

"Luci, we're here to protect these people."

"We're here to put the fear of our Goddess into the enemy, which we currently cannot do with that damnable beast out there!”

Zulema remained quiet once again. She was looking over at the bodies and praying silently.

"Where is Marie?" the onyx-haired priestess asked finally.

Sister Lucia slowly raised a severed hand between her fingers before unceremoniously dropping it back onto the table, the creases of her face behind the veil forming a look of disgust.

“How should I know? She was already gone when I woke up this morning. That woman gets up to her own devices when it suits her. She never did quite tell us what her objective was, did she?”

“No, just the importance of ceremonial wear and I doubt it was simply that. I’m sure whatever objective the church set out for her was something she believed was best handled alone.”

"Well, she is the one that's supposed to be leading this mission, after all. But I still wish she'd clue us into what she's planning. I so do hope it's some dreadful new weapon to use upon the enemy."

"Do you think she knows about the monster they've got roaming around?"

"Who can say? Marie could definitely handle it herself though. And the less chance I have to run into it, the better."

"Luci. Perhaps it would be prudent of us to go and take care of that thing ourselves."

"What?! Have you lost sense of your faculties? Did Macha bless you a little too hard? I know we revere madness but suicide is a little much."

"They called us over here to help. Sooner or later our people are going to come up against that creature.”

Lucia gave a dissatisfied grunt in response.

"As it stands, we can no longer get close to the enemy to even fight."

"Good! Maybe that beast will take care of them all for us."

"What happened to 'womaning up' and 'putting the fear of our Goddess into our enemies?' I thought you wanted to bust some heads."

"Argh!" Lucia yelled in frustration. "Can't a woman be a hypocrite in peace?! Fine! But you're bringing your weapon along this time!"

"Naturally." Zulema smiled.

"And! Since you're such a fan of little vagabonds, you'll be taking over teaching the catechism classes from me for the next month."

"Luci, I'd have volunteered for that anyway."

"Goddess damn you!"