#aedos

Whilst watching the girl do her best to disappear, Sister Gertrude chastised, “Pay attention, Miss Valleritignon! Now tell me,” she repeated herself, “what is the reason for Our war with the Dravanian Horde?”

Aedos blinked, her cheeks flushing and her head throbbing. She tugged instinctively at one of her twin braids. How long had everyone been staring? How was she supposed to know the answer to that question anyway? She had to say something though, and with each blink of the multitude of eyes around her she could feel her face burning up redder and redder. “U-uhm…D-...Dragons, Miss?”

Well, duh. She could have said something more clever than that. A chorus of insulting giggles followed, through which the embarrassed girl blinked away tears, deciding she best leave, run away. Be somewhere else, anywhere but here, right now. Just before she could muster the courage to leap for the closed window of the classroom and wrench it open, the teacher cleared her throat, resuming their lesson.

“Well, in a sense, yes.” Sister Gertrude’s voice was pleasant and calm, and with a wave of her robed hand Aedos’s embarrassment was forgotten. “By their very nature, dragons are cruel and fierce. We are lucky that there ever existed a peace-time between ourselves and the Dravanians.” Sister Gertrude gave a dramatic pause, stalking the room, allowing the children who were paying attention to mumble questions of their own.

“...And although there was a peace. The treacherous nature of the dragons reared its head before long, and SNAP.” She stopped suddenly in her tracks and clapped her hands in a faux jaw-bite, and excitement rippled through the classroom.

“They fell upon our ancestors with jaws of steel and breath of hellfire!” The Sister hissed and chuckled, beginning to pace the classroom once more. She winked at Aedos, causing the little girl to grin, the embarrassed glow of her cheeks fading.

“Many Ishgardians perished, and many more fled, for how else were they to survive? Yet outmatched and betrayed by their draconic allies, there were those of our ancestors who did not falter. The strongest, brightest, most righteous Ishgardians came together to protect those who could not protect themselves. Under the ever watchful gaze of the Fury, the order of Our Knights Most Heavenly was formed — and they’ve kept the walls of our city safe for a thousand years since.” The silence that had now overcome the classroom brought a polite grin to Gertrude’s face, knowing she now had all of the children’s attention. “Now, can any of you tell me the names of any of our faithful Knights?”

The lesson continued on — a few offers and the occasional innocent query came from the crowd of children, but the pace and direction of the lesson were single-handedly led by Sister Gertrude. Before long, a bell chimed through the hallways and signalled a close to the morning lessons. Hubbub and excitement coursed through the stone halls of Our Lady of Perpetual Grace, doors clicking open and closed, squeals pealing along corridors as lunches were unpacked and exchanged, bargained and hoarded.

Aedos quickly grabbed up her bag and took the girl seated next to her by the hand, pulling her up “Come on, Marion. We’ll lose our spot!” The two young girls raced up to Debrillont and Elmerique who were already halfway out the door. They made their way to the crowded benches of the cafeteria, the quartet of young elezen ladies carving their own spot out at the end of a bench. Once seated, they all began eyeing up each other’s lunches as pouches and boxes were freed from satchels.

As Debrillont leaned over and snagged a honeyed oat biscuit out of Aedos’s lunchbox, she teased, “We almost thought we’d lost you to the fae again, Valerie.” She darted her hand back, prize captured, in time to dodge Aedos’s gawking face and slower arm.

The nickname grated the girl, How many times do I have to tell Deb just to call me Aedos? She had made it clear she didn’t enjoy attention being called to her already comically long surname.

“Hey!” Aedos shoved her bottom lip out and readjusted her oversized glasses as they wobbled down her nose, with Elmerique taking the opportunity to mimic Debrillont’s maneuver and steal another biscuit.

Aedos’s mouth squirmed and she shielded her lunch from any more thieves. Once things seemed settled, she pulled out a neatly folded crepe and broached, “There was a robin outside the window, didn’t you guys see it?”

Marion, the small, mousy-haired elezen smiled and opened her mouth to reply.

“Hey, we should go to the library! The Sisters said they were getting new tomes in!” Debrillont said, completely ignoring Aedos’s question.

Elmerique pricked up at their blonde pack-leader’s proposal, agreeing quickly. Whilst Marion, not quite as keen, shifted her eyes reluctantly as she closed her mouth from being interrupted and pulled the wicker lid of her lunch basket closed.

“Come on, we can grab a look at the good ones before everyone else barges in after they’ve eaten!” Debrillont continued. Not one to waste time, she got up and left her belongings where they were, marching down the hallway in a commanding, determined fashion. The rest of the troop followed shortly behind, bringing their own belongings as well as Deb’s.

Champlechaun’s Fourth Critique of Modern Readings on The Enchiridion, A Twelve Step Guide on How Best to Hide from Dravanian Invaders, How to Tell if Your Spouse is in League with Heretics, and more than two dozen other tomes decorated a small trolley with the sign ‘New Books’. Whilst the other girls murmured and flipped through a few of the pages, Aedos’s eyes were caught on a simple-looking book that seemed to be squeezed on to the bottom of the shelf. Wedged under The Enchiridion and You: In Halone we Trust, was a thin, leather bound book, its pages a faded, greasy yellow. Turning over the leather binding in her hand, she noted the outside was not labelled like most other books seemed to be. Turning past the blank leaflets of the front, she came across a scrawled title. Removing her glasses, and tucking one of the metal arms around a pocket of her backpack, she began to read Dravanian Shapes and Skins recorded by one ‘Eadric the Chaste’.

The journal seemed to outline a number of encounters the writer had either experienced or heard recounted from knights and travelers. The text itself was dry and meandering, but every second or third page held a detailed sketch, done in ink, of claws, or wings, or jaws. For any other Fury-fearing child of eight winters, this might have been the seed of many a restless night, birthing images of nightmarish monsters. But this particular young girl was gripped with a hunger: she dove into the texts and sketches. Absentmindedly, the girl roamed past bookshelves, eyes glued to the pages of the journal, her fingers turning through the parchment and tracing their tips over the scaley images.

Time quickly faded into obscurity as she grew more and more engrossed, no longer bored of the dreary, analytical recounting of battles and sightings. Aedos’s mind found itself focused, nourished and blooming with the book’s fantastical depictions of creatures that commanded strength and ferocity along with beauty and majesty.

When the belltower chimed its signature din to call an end to lunch, Aedos was pulled back to the present by an insistent nudging at her shoulder. The warm brown of Marion’s eyes greeted her as she finally looked up from the book’s pages. “We’ll be late! Come on!”

The would-be dragon-fangirl’s eyes adjusted and she looked over at the desk where the librarian was sitting by the library entrance. Aedos looked back down at the book, still in her hand. She thought of how much more she yearned to study it. It was far-and-away superior to any of the drab Enchiridion extracts that seemed to flood the bookshelves. She should request to borrow the book from the librarian. She should ask them if they had any more texts similar to this one. She should. But a twinge of doubt pricked at her mind. She was running late for class, and the Sisters wouldn’t want that. If she was late, she would be scolded for her tardiness as well as her inattentiveness. The book swiftly slipped from her hand and in to her backpack.

Marion helped Aedos up and the two quickly mustered themselves from the library, their feet pattering back along the emptying corridors and back to their classroom. The two shuffled back to their desks, seemingly not late enough to be reprimanded or snickered at, crossing past Debrillont and Elmerique who were sitting pretty in the second row.

Marion whispered to the little book-thief, “You shouldn’t steal.” And Aedos just gave her a wide-eyed look, about to reply, when Sister Gertrude cleared her throat and called for everyone to take their seats.

Afternoon classes wrapped up two bells later. Debrillont shot up to the front of the classroom, speaking with the teacher, her movements urgent. The rest of the class packed their pens and books and began chatting. Sister Gertrude nodded to Debrillont, and bid her a good afternoon as the girl turned and waved to Aedos. Standing by the door, Sister Gertrude offered her ritual farewell to each of the children in turn as they left.

Aedos gave a quick, chirpy “See you,” to Marion before making her way to exit the classroom. However, when she approached their teacher at the door, the woman did not wish her well.

Instead, Gertrude reservedly requested that Aedos remain behind for a moment. Blinking in confusion, the young elezen agreed, and bid her classmates off with an embarrassed flick of her hand as they all passed.

Once all of the students had left apart from Aedos, the older woman — dressed in her austere red and white Halonic garb — turned toward the confused girl. Gertrude’s countenance was troubled. Wrinkles creasing around her jowls and brow. “Now, I hate to ask this, dear. But do you mind if I have a look in your bag?”

Dread clutched at Aedos’s chest. She failed to stammer out a response, her tongue drying up in her mouth.

Sister Gertrude gently pried up the canvas backpack in question and opened it. At first, she let out a gentle, reassuring hum of forgiveness and apology, preparing to crack a remark about the almost untouched lunchbox. However, the holy sister’s eyes caught a glimpse of something, riveting her on the spot for a heartbeat. She then fished out an otherwise nondescript leather journal from the satchel.

Wincing at the discovery, Aedos piped up, her guilt immediately revealing itself, “Wait! I c-can explain! You see I was just borr-”

Her explanation was cut-off by the very deep furrowing of Gertrude’s face as she began to read from the book. “Oh dear, oh dear,” the nun muttered, colour fading from her already pale face. With a click of her tongue, the sister shook her head and clapped the book shut, “You’ll be coming with me, missy.”

As Aedos grabbed her bag, her other hand was grasped tightly and the girl was whisked down the hallway and up a flight of stairs. They passed a few concerned teachers, and a couple of students that turned on them in terror, watching Sister Gertrude stalk away with Aedos flailing in-tow.

Aedos found herself finally halted, standing in front of a large, ominous red oak door. One hand still on her backpack, the other grasped in her teacher’s palm. Gertrude knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, a woman clad in the familiar white and red Halonic priest attire stood there. This woman’s face seemed to perpetually sag: the downward turn of her facial features illustrating, in equal parts, a harried and perturbed look to any emotion the woman might show. Atop her head sat a small pointed white cap, a thin red spear emblazoned on the front, flanked by rows of shorter, parallel red lines.

“Mother Superior. Please excuse my interruption, but I’ve an urgent matter to discuss.” Sister Gertrude shook the heretical book in her fist, her voice groaning in something akin to fear.

The mother superior nodded and stared at Aedos as she ushered the two of them in to the pale-toned room of her study. A heavy oak desk rested at one end, with several trolleys of books stacked next to the wide window on the opposite wall to the door. Sister Gertrude passed the offensive piece of literature to the other woman and watched as the latter began to flick through its contents. “Mmhmmmmm,” she hummed.

“I’m not sure where she got this. But everything we are grooming these young women to be will be for nought if we have heretical nonsense like this roaming about.”

“Yes. You are quite right.” The woman with the hat replied, continuing to look briefly through the pages before slapping the tome shut and down on to her desk. She turned to Aedos, “Tell me. Where did you get this book?” Any politeness that the young girl might have expected was completely absent: it felt less like a question, and more a command.

“Th-the library,” Aedos stammered.

“Nonsense. Don’t lie to me. Where did you find it?”

“I-I’m not lying. Miss Agathieux, I’m sorr-”

THWACK.

“Show some respect!” Agathieux roared as she slapped the girl’s cheek.

“Y-yes, Mother Superior, sorry.” Aedos’s eyes bored into the floor as she felt her legs go weak, but stayed standing. She touched her burning cheek lightly, hissing reflexively, and then wrung her hands together, entwining her fingers.

“Don’t fidget,” Agathieux reprimanded.

“Yes, Mother Superior. Sorry, Mother Superior.” She clenched her fists and then relaxed them, eyes still turned down.

“If you don’t tell me where you found this book, or who gave it to you, then you will have to be punished.”

“I-” Aedos began, and then swallowed. “I found it with the new books in the library.” She looked up, “I thought it must have been ordered in with the others.”

“We only keep educational material in these walls, little girl. Does this book seem enlightening to you?” Rhetoric seeped from her voice, and it was all Aedos could do to not answer in the affirmative. “Either you are still lying to me. Or something even more worrisome is afoot. Either way, this book is hereby confiscated. And you — you will be put to daily cathedral polishing for the rest of semester as penance; as well as a full week’s suspension from classes and school grounds. Effective immediately.”

The young girl’s eyes went wide and she shot a pleading look at Sister Gertrude, who averted her gaze. Judgement had been passed.

Upon returning to school after her suspension, Aedos was frightened. When she spoke with her friends, they rebuffed her requests to spend lunch together, telling her they were busy. Several times she did sit with them, disregarding their appeals for her to sit elsewhere, but on these occasions she found they wilfully ignored her, talking over her when she spoke. There weren’t even any attempts to steal her food, either, and somehow Aedos found she missed that, too. So she sat alone, and waited for the day when enough time might have passed that they would forgive her, for whatever she had done wrong.

Days became sennights, and sennights became moons. Eventually the next year of schooling came around and Aedos found herself in a class of entirely new faces, a chance to make new friends. But the damage was done, and she did not find that trust could come to her so easily anymore.