Warning: The events taking place in this story are slightly graphic though no graphic words are used to portray anything happening. Let it be known that I've warned you before you complain of being upset by the content of this story. It has a good ending I promise. Towards the middle of the story I suggest listening to the song linked at the bottom.
Waking up in the morning Euphrosyne stretched and looked out of her window into the dense forest that was her backyard. Doting over her small rag doll as her father angrily grumbled about the taxes he owed to the Duke of Erindyn. Her father eventually sauntered into the small back room of the cottage in which she slept to take her to church. "Esyne, Get up. It's time for breakfast. Church begins soon, and your mother would throw a fit if you didn't attend." spouted her father in his grumbly morning state. Euphrosyne sat up on her bed, nodding as her father left to put on his finest clothes while Esyne did nothing but Minutiae-peddle, and kicked around a stone until she knew they would be late for church. She loved pushing her father's buttons. Eventually skipping out of their cottage with her father in tow shouting at her about how messy she was getting her shoes and combing his hair back. The shorter eight-year-old Esyne was too fast for her father who had to almost run down the muddy roads of the village to catch up with her.
Waking up in the morning Euphrosyne stretched and looked out of her window into the dense forest that was her backyard. Doting over her small rag doll as her father angrily grumbled about the taxes he owed to the Duke of Erindyn. Her father eventually sauntered into the small back room of the cottage in which she slept to take her to church. "Esyne, Get up. It's time for breakfast. Church begins soon, and your mother would throw a fit if you didn't attend." spouted her father in his grumbly morning state. Euphrosyne sat up on her bed, nodding as her father left to put on his finest clothes while Esyne did nothing but Minutiae-peddle, and kicked around a stone until she knew they would be late for church. She loved pushing her father's buttons. Eventually skipping out of their cottage with her father in tow shouting at her about how messy she was getting her shoes and combing his hair back. The shorter eight-year-old Esyne was too fast for her father who had to almost run down the muddy roads of the village to catch up with her.
As she arrived at the church with her father, she kissed the hands of the Reverend and the hands of Monk Christobal and Sister Eluoise as a sign of greeting and praise. Sitting next to her now the grumpy father at the front of the church as they were one of the first people there. Within the distant mumbles of the priests and elders within the sumptuous hold, Esyne sang for the Holy Spirit before the arrival of other families. For being a young woman her voice was high and like birds chirping in the bright blue sky above.
As soon as her highest note was hit the bell rung. It rung earlier than usual, and it scared Esyne into silence. As soon as she snapped her singing, she was looking to the bewildered holy men.. A group of parents, children, grandparents, young women, and men. At least thirty people huddled in a fearful circle surrounded by large men with a black clothing wielding weapons.
As soon as her highest note was hit the bell rung. It rung earlier than usual, and it scared Esyne into silence. As soon as she snapped her singing, she was looking to the bewildered holy men.. A group of parents, children, grandparents, young women, and men. At least thirty people huddled in a fearful circle surrounded by large men with a black clothing wielding weapons.
The once seemingly bright blue skies had not changed, but the atmosphere had. With the young woman's heart filling with fear Euphrosyne quickly dashed into the church to find her father, who was not there. She took Monk Cristobal's blade and stuffed it into her dress pocket. She quickly ran out into the street where she was captured as well, looking to the sky and the doves cooing with no mind for the suffering happening below.
Before knowing the powers of her singing, she had to take the situation into her hands. As the man dragged her by her hair, she screamed as loud as she could before being thrown into the circle of people. Her stubborn father yelled out at the man and tried to tackle him in which he was swiftly cut down to the dismay and fear of Euphrosyne. She screamed out in anguish at the loss of her father who was her only known relative.
As tears streamed down her eyes, she gripped the blade within her pocket and slowly took it out. Aiming to use it against the man without his knowledge. But the more she thought, the more her heart ached. Who was she to stoop to his level? Who was she to become the hunter of the hunting? Who was she, and why would it be better if she killed him. That was it. The spirit was merely testing her strength at this young age.
She dropped the blade but wept. Those always late to the church on Tuesday mornings, the Night Watch had arrived in their light armor and shortswords. At this, the black-clothed men ran towards them other than a few who began dragging elders, parents, and young men into a separate pile. The slaughter of them began quickly as the night guard tried to fight them off to no avail. Screams and cries filled the town, but the young women were remaining in a pile were not going to be lambs to the slaughter. Euphrosyne would not let their lives be so idiotically wasted.Before knowing the powers of her singing, she had to take the situation into her hands. As the man dragged her by her hair, she screamed as loud as she could before being thrown into the circle of people. Her stubborn father yelled out at the man and tried to tackle him in which he was swiftly cut down to the dismay and fear of Euphrosyne. She screamed out in anguish at the loss of her father who was her only known relative.
As tears streamed down her eyes, she gripped the blade within her pocket and slowly took it out. Aiming to use it against the man without his knowledge. But the more she thought, the more her heart ached. Who was she to stoop to his level? Who was she to become the hunter of the hunting? Who was she, and why would it be better if she killed him. That was it. The spirit was merely testing her strength at this young age.
Quickly grabbing the arms and quietly rallying them she ran with the young women. Faster than she had ever run in her life. Escaping to the very nearby church in which she quickly locked herself and them into the church for their safety. Her heart all but sunk as she had to huddle the women within the church. As the men shouted and pounded on the church door, she gathered the women to kneel in prayer for their safety and for the Spirit to forgive the men in death.
Hours passed, hours turning into days. On the third day, the Duke's men arrived and killed off the remaining men who were pillaging the remaining goods of the town and burning down the cottages. They were eventually saved from the church after the conflict by the men. The young women forever praised young Euphrosyne for her act until she fled to the Isle of Basta in search of what the Spirit had bestowed upon her the day, the courage of the fawn against the Black Wolves.
