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I kneel down, bringing my knees to the cold, hard marble floor. Its iciness nips at my skin. A minute passes while I settle in but I only grow more uncomfortable as the cold makes my bones ache.
“Don’t look up,” I say to myself, fearing the gaze of the statues surrounding me. I know they peer down with disgust laden in their expressions, directing nothing but shame, all of which I deserve.
For now, I keep my own line of sight directed just past my nose, seeing only the statues’ feet in my peripherals. The flames of the candles all flicker with intensity, unable to remain still like the thoughts in my head.
Is my presence in this temple even warranted anymore?I think, beginning my session. It’s time to confront myself over my sins.
“What good is the work of many years, building a once-strong foundation of strength and dedication, and pulling myself through all challenges, trials, and tribulations? All for everything to crumble to the ground because of a fatal attraction.”
The guilt seizes my voice for a moment. I rub my throat and clear it.
“All of what I have worked so tirelessly for, two decades’ worth of sacrifices, all gone to waste in one night? Who am I anymore?”
If there is any chance of forgiveness, I must think back to where it all began.
I close my eyes, taking myself to the events of yesterday night. It all plays out like a production in a theater, each scene rousing within me a rush of emotions, from excitement because of kissing Carus to surprise when we fell into the water.
The anticipation I felt when he ripped the veil away from my face brings a wave of shame that washes over me. I drown in this self-wallowing ocean of doom, knowing I am being rightfully shamed by my faith.
All of the sacred rules of the temple were broken by one dark elf and his tempting desire to have me.
It’s my fault. I gave my all to him.
Suddenly feeling naked and exposed, I pull my robes closer around my neck. Prayers spill out of my mouth like water from a fountain, desperate to put out the fire of shame burning my aura.
“Please remember my many years of unwithering service to the temple of Karona, forgive me this one mistake, and I shall prove myself for the rest of my life.”
Swallowing hard, I finally muster the courage to look into the faces of the statues, hoping to find an element of forgiveness.
In their eyes still is the knowledge of what I’ve done. I see my possible future in them, a horrid vision of what could happen, where I’m cast into exile by the Ruler and left to rot in the streets.
It is a fate far worse than death for a priestess of Karona. Creeped out, I gather myself and put out the candles with haste, desperate to escape the statues but even more so to run from the guilt eating me up inside.
I close the doors behind me but still, the silence lingers, carrying the effects of judgment with me as I traverse through various parts of the temple.
I go about my normal duties for a while, lending a hand here and there to the handmaidens, and stopping for a tea break with the other two priestesses.
In the eyes of those around me, I am the picture-perfect specimen of what it means to be a priestess, with some of the newer handmaidens often coming to me for mentorship and guidance.
Now, I don’t know if I’m capable of that. I barely see myself as worthy of my position anymore but there is still a glimmer of hope within me, even if it’s just a sliver.
Over the course of the day, I become more and more aware of this mask I wear for everyone to see, a fake version of me who has committed no sin, the thoughts of even doing so not present in my mind. Of course, it’s all an illusion.
I execute immaculate brushstrokes as I paint with excellent grace. To others, this seems like a typical day. To myself, I am doing everything with extra effort because I fear being watched for another mistake.
Another fault could send me over the edge of never coming back… That is, unless I haven’t already gone over it.
As I clean my paint brushes, I mumble to myself over my frustrations. Distracted, I do not hear Calindra entering my studio.
“Shana?”
“Huh?” I reply, startled as I spin around. I drop my paint brushes. Sighing, I pick them up one by one while Calindra helps.
“Sorry, I did not mean to frighten you. I just wanted to let you know our evening meal is ready.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be eating. I do not feel well.”
“Is that so? I can bring some to your quarters then.”
