Chapter 18: Ch. 17 Echoes from the Past

Julie woke up. Her dream faded and in its place came a gradual awareness. She felt warm, hot enough to want to stick her feet out the end of the blanket. It was early, sunrise, the room dim, timid light peeping through the thin curtains. Despite the hour, countless footsteps leaked under the door, impossible to tell if they were near and careful, or heavy and distant.

Finally, Julie came to notice the pressure on her hand. Flickers of the day before played out in her mind, flickers of the night, yet nothing could move her heart; she was simply content.

Lying beside Sammy, their hands so loosely joined, Julie could only softly smile as everything was right in the world.

Unconsciously, Julie squeezed Sammy’s hand and, like the morning before, that little action was enough to stir Sammy from her slumber. Unlike Julie, Sammy’s focus began with their joined hands. Slowly, she turned her hand until she could slide her fingers between Julie’s, entwining them. Then she rolled, lying on her side.

“Good morning,” she murmured, her gaze on Julie’s face.

That little change in how they held hands left Julie with a shyness, glancing over at Sammy only to look away. “Morning.”

The sight wonderful, Sammy softly smiled, and she reached over with her free hand to feel the blooming heat on that pretty cheek. Julie could only blush more from the delicate touch; where Sammy’s fingertips trailed felt ticklish, but it was a kind of ticklish that made her want to lean into the touch, and she found herself turning to face Sammy, pinning those fingers between cheek and pillow.

Their eyes meeting, Julie keenly remembered how they’d ended the night before, her lips parting ever so slightly as a long, hot breath slipped out.

And Sammy asked, “May I have you for breakfast?”

And Julie said, “Yes,” closing her eyes, tilting her chin up as she lay there.

So Sammy smoothly moved in despite their awkward position, coming ever closer until—

A knock rang out, loud and clear, and was followed by a younger woman asking in Sonlettian, “Would our guests prefer breakfast in their room?”

Sammy almost laughed, spurred on by Julie’s sharp inhale and how her eyes shot open. Instead, though, she darted forward; Julie’s wide eyes barely lasted a heartbeat before fluttering closed.

Just before the woman outside asked again, Sammy pulled back and answered her. “We would.”

“If our guests could wait a moment, thank you,” the woman replied.

Her footsteps trailed off, leaving the room in silence. Sammy and Julie, while still lying down, were now near enough to feel the other’s breath. However, it seemed to Sammy that Julie was still holding her breath from the fright.

“She asked if we want to eat here—I said yes,” Sammy said.

“Oh,” Julie mumbled.

Although Sammy didn’t want to end the moment, she took a last look at her precious jewel and then said, “Unless you wish for her to see us like this, you may wish to rise.”

It took Julie a moment to understand, then she practically leapt out of bed.

When the woman returned with their breakfast, Julie, now dressed, answered the door (awkwardly giving thanks in the little Sonlettian she knew); but the woman also saw, beyond Julie, that the two beds had been pushed together, and that Sammy still lay there, blanket pulled up to her neck, wearing a most mysterious smile.

At least, she would have seen all that and perhaps even had a thought, if not for how these guests had saved petty Amélie. With a smile and a bow, she bid them good day (Julie recognised the phrase, quickly returning it with a butchered accent) and went on her way.

“Sister… Verietay, I believe,” Sammy said.

Julie walked over with the tray of food for them both. “Really?” she asked.

“Unless I misheard—our evening was rather busy,” Sammy said.

Just a little busy, Julie thought.

They ate the bland breakfast on the bed, but this time a sliver of fruit sweetened the meal, and then they sat in simple silence for a little while. The woman returned again, swapping the tray for a bucket of fresh water; Julie didn’t understand what Verietay said, but the faint tendrils of steam told her it was hot.

“You go ahead,” she said to Sammy, putting the bucket down beside the bed.

“Oh my, how assertive,” Sammy said, smile knowing.

It took Julie a moment to catch up; she turned away, saying, “I’ll go check on the horses.”

“You do not wish to watch?” Sammy asked.

It was far too early for Julie to properly consider the question. “N-no,” she said.

Sammy’s smile turned gentle. “Then, if you wouldn’t mind taking your time.”

“Sure.”

With that last word, Julie scurried over to the door and slipped out, only to stick her head back in.

“Bye,” she said.

“Goodbye, Lia,” Sammy replied; she was pleased to see a soft smile bloom on Julie’s lips.

Then she was left alone, the door shut. She lingered on the bed for a moment longer before getting to her feet and having a good stretch. Without regard for anyone who would burst in, she slipped off her underclothes.

Inspecting her shins, she was pleased that the small cuts had healed entirely, no trace of a scar even on her ankle. It wasn’t that she herself would be bothered by them, but she was glad to spare Julie the needless worry.

Rather than move on to bathing, she went to her pack and took out a small towel, which she placed over the bucket. Then she rummaged for her massagers, taking a moment to decide on one to use.

As she tended to her tenderness, it struck her how strange she felt this morning; her muscles weren’t knotted with frustrations, instead a kind of anticipation. That Julie would ever touch her had seemed merely a dream before, a hope she had held on to, but, after last night, she could believe.

Meanwhile, Julie stumbled and stuttered her way to the stables; although her Sonlettian was poor, half the sisters could speak at least some Schtish (and the clip-clop sound Julie made was very realistic, transcending language).

Both horses looked unharmed and well-fed. Still, she topped up their trough with feed from their pack, and then went about giving them a good brush—if only to distract herself from Sammy. It was hard for her not to think of Sammy to begin with, her role—her purpose in life—to support the princess. Knowing what Sammy was now doing, though, glimpses flashed across her mind’s eye whenever she was too idle.

How someone so slender could be so strong, Julie didn’t know.

“Too-vé be-an?”

A gasp of surprise almost made it out of Julie’s mouth, caught at the last moment. Feeling embarrassed about that, she turned to the voice, finding a younger girl—not the one Sammy had saved. It took her another moment go over what she’d heard and (a small joy) she understood it.

“Zhu vé be an,” Julie replied.

Then the girl quickly rattled off a string of Sonlettian; utterly clueless, Julie felt pretty stupid, especially with the girl looking at her so expectantly.

Saving Julie, a sister came over. She said something to the girl first, then turned to Julie, smiling softly. “This little one is worried you, ah, have the fever?”

That made Julie all-too-conscious of her warm cheeks, which reminded her of what she’d been thinking about before. She wasn’t that good with people to begin with and the overwhelming embarrassment didn’t help.

“Zhu vé be an,” Julie said again, hoping that was enough.

The little girl squinted as if not believing, but the sister simply nodded with a small smile and sent the little girl on her way. Before she left, she said to Julie, “This little one likes horses.”

Julie didn’t know what to say, so smiled and nodded.

Alone once again, she had to fight the urge to run back to Sammy. Sammy always knew what to say and it was far too dangerous to go around by herself. But Sammy had asked her to take her time, so she knew she couldn’t go back so soon.

A long while later, Sammy descended from their room and, following the noise, made her way to the courtyard out back. Although she had expected the sight that greeted her, it was still refreshing, more than enough to bring out a warm smile.

Julie danced like only an experienced swordswoman could. Her feet moved to the beat of the battle, arms to the rhythm of the fight, always ready to match her opponent at a heartbeat’s notice.

Well, Sammy could imagine that; in reality, Julie simply practised, on one side a swell of adoring fans—girls ranging from a few years old up to teens not much younger than Sammy, a few sisters there as well (they were more keeping an eye on the girls than adoring).

As for Julie, she had a sheen of sweat on what skin she showed, hair a touch damp. The heavier exercise than usual gave her muscles a more noticeable bulge, taut, her breaths deep and measured. Sammy drank the sight in, very content of the view from behind. Every swing, every step—Sammy followed Julie’s body.

All good things had to come to an end, though, and Julie eventually caught a glimpse of Sammy. She still found Sammy’s gaze at such times… embarrassing. Or rather, like many other things in their relationship, she found it ticklish—that, the more Sammy looked, the more she felt like she had to squirm.

Julie stopped and the two headed back to their room so Julie could wash. Although Julie turned down Sammy’s offer of help, Sammy stayed in the room and looked out the window.

When that was done, they were going to wander around the priory, but, as soon as they left the room, a sister told them that Sister Tutty would like a moment. So they followed the sister.

The room they came to was something of an infirmary: a handful of beds spaced out. Only one was being used and that was where Sister Tutty was, so that was where Sammy went, no care for waiting until called on or anything like that; Julie could only follow after.

“This is Amélie?” Sammy asked in Schtish.

Sister Tutty nodded.

Though hesitant, Julie shuffled around enough to see, almost regretting the decision. The poor girl’s face looked bloated and yellowing, bruised all over, one eye so swollen it surely couldn’t open; scabs and scars left their marks too. Some half of her hair had been shaved off to better clean the wounds, her arms entirely covered in bandages.

It was the kind of sight that couldn’t help but make Julie wonder if saving the girl had been the right thing to do. Of course, no sooner did that intrusive thought come than Julie felt guilty for thinking it, worsened by remembering her prayer.

“I should apologise for breaking her ribs,” Sammy said.

Sister Tutty softly tittered. “What is one more log on the fire,” she said.

“Our actions are not a sum of good and evil, but a measure of sincerity,” Sammy replied.

That quieted Sister Tutty for a long moment. “You are well read,” she said.

“My parents only let me play with my friends if I studied,” Sammy said. While Julie couldn’t disagree with the statement, she was somewhat in awe at how Sammy could phrase her upbringing in a way that made her seem like any middle-class daughter.

Sister Tutty nodded, then turned from Amélie to give Sammy a look. “I thought to ask if our guest needed tending to,” she said.

“While I am indulgent, I only ask that of my companion,” Sammy said with a small smile.

Sister Tutty chortled. “Very well,” she said, and then returned her focus to Amélie. “Would our guests be interested in seeing a miracle?”

“A sister shouldn’t tease,” Sammy said.

That set Sister Tutty off again, but she quickly focused and, taking that as a yes, began to pray. However, different to the impotent prayers of the masses, her whispered words sounded divine, more pure than any singing and, just by hearing them, Julie felt all her worries leave.

Slowly, the words seemed to glow in the air—Julie recognised it as just like when Sammy had enchanted her arrows—and they began to coil around Sister Tutty’s hands. Once entirely coated, Sister Tutty lay her hands on Amélie’s chest.

Bit by bit, the glow spread, a spider’s web of light that pulled the divine power into strands so thin that they were, if not for the ethereal shimmer, invisible. Once it enveloped Amélie’s entire body, it began to shine; to Julie, her mind told her to look away—that it was painfully bright—yet it didn’t hurt at all, if anything pleasant.

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Underneath the divine power, the various swellings and bumps subsided, the scabs dissolved, scars and bruises melted into fresh skin. Even her dark freckles paled to pink, the lighter ones fading entirely. As if all that wasn’t shocking enough, fresh hair sprouted, growing just long enough to come to her eyes and cover her ear, but not as long as the existing hair.

Through all that, Julie was too surprised to even gasp, while Sammy stayed stoic.

With a last whisper, Sister Tutty called back the divine power and returned it to the heavens. Then she collapsed, but Sammy managed to catch her, supporting her weight for the second it took her to find her feet again.

“Sorry for that,” Sister Tutty said, voice weak. “It took more out of me than I thought.”

Rather than reply, Sammy half-led, half-pushed Sister Tutty to the neighbouring bed to sit. “You are… blessed by the gods?” she finally asked.

Sister Tutty nodded. “For the last, let’s see… twenty years is close enough. At first, I could only soothe their distress, but the gods gradually let me do a little more.”

Sammy listened, then her gaze went back to Amélie. “Did you wait for us?”

Sister Tutty made a complicated expression. “Of course, I asked the gods for help last night, but they… no, I cannot fathom their reasoning. I am merely a vessel for their will and this is their will.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it?” Sammy said.

Sister Tutty froze.

“You tended to her through the night—I doubt they asked you to do that,” Sammy said.

Quickly thawing, Sister Tutty bowed her head with a smile. “I looked after the infirm for the many years before the gods blessed me, and I would look after the infirm for the rest of my years even if their blessing left me,” she said.

From there, the two spoke a little more of Amélie’s condition, with Sister Tutty repeating her thanks to Sammy for saving her ward.

To which Sammy said, “I would rather wait to hear her speak her own thanks.”

Sister Tutty tittered. “There is a fitting expression in Sonlettian for you: Sha d’lo.”

A second, then Sammy asked, “Cat of the water?”

“It is someone who is at home wherever they are,” Sister Tutty said.

Sammy shook her head; she took Julie’s hand and said, “It is rather that I am a snail, bringing my home with me.”

The meaning of her words weren’t lost on either Julie (a spike of worry rushing through her) or Sister Tutty. However, after a moment, Sister Tutty smiled. “Such good friends.”

Julie swallowed the lump in her throat, managing to take in a calming breath.

Without anything else said, Sister Tutty led the two out (Sammy still holding Julie’s hand); Sister Onnétutty was left to watch over Amélie. It then became something of a tour, Sister Tutty pointing out the rooms and people as they went, and they ended up in the attic: a narrow room with some plain wooden tables and chairs.

“This is our little break room,” Sister Tutty said. She gestured for Sammy and Julie to sit and so they did. “Forgive me if I am being, what is it… assumptive, but would our guests care to hear a little of my past?”

“Please, do share,” Sammy said; Julie nodded too.

Sister Tutty smiled. “Some of the sisters here are wards who have grown up, some have come from churches. I am one who, as we like to say, ‘Has her reasons.’ Of course, we never ask for her reasons, but she is free to share them if she so wishes.”

She paused there for a moment, her eyes seeing memories of the distant past. “I grew up near the Schtat border with my best friend. We were inseparable, and I was closer to her than even my birth-sisters. So, when we came of an age to consider suitors, we grew distraught, unable to imagine a life apart from one another.

“She came up with a plan: we could run away and join a nunnery together. The only problem was that she was born weak and no one would help us if we dared ask. I… couldn’t bring myself to take such a risk, not alone. If anything happened to her….”

Sister Tutty deflated as she trailed off.

“At her insistence, I ran off to here, and she promised she would find a way to join me. I still have my hope, but I have long made peace that we might be reunited in death instead.”

A soft silence followed, lingering until Sammy delicately brushed it aside. “Thank you for sharing such a personal story.”

Sister Tutty chortled, but it sounded hollow and insincere to Julie. “I am not without my… what is it… hidden motives?”

“Really?” Sammy asked.

Sister Tutty took a moment to squarely meet Sammy’s and Julie’s gaze in turn. “We never ask for reasons,” she said, a weight to her words.

Sammy smiled in response. “If we could impose ourselves for another day, then we shall be on our way.”

Sister Tutty turned to Julie as if to check, but Julie said nothing. “Of course—you are most welcome to stay as long as you need,” she said with a smile.

After a brief silence, Sister Tutty brought up lunch and began to lead them once again. As on the way up, she greeted those they passed, otherwise speaking idly of what life at the priory was like; Julie couldn’t tell if Sister Tutty was trying to convince them to stay or scare them off, talk of rising before dawn and praying for hours every day on top of all kinds of chores and caring for the children.

Once they came to the dining hall, though, Sister Tutty left them in the care of a pair of younger sisters.

Come the end of the meal, Sammy and Julie had no plan for what to do. At Sammy’s suggestion, they simply wandered outside; what began with the two of them admiring the vineyards and orchards ended with Sammy surrounded by young girls as she plaited their hair and showed them how to make flower crowns from the pretty white flowers (rennarzhue, Sammy called them) peppering the grassy slope leading down to the river.

Julie could only watch with a warm smile. Oh the children adored Sammy, fought over turns to sit on her lap and have their hair done, constantly twittering at her in endless streams of Sonlettian; and Sammy seemed to always be either laughing or speaking with such a gentle smile.

At least an hour passed like that, Julie guessed, before Sammy finally got up and shooed away the girls; what she said, Julie didn’t understand.

“My apologies for the commotion,” Sammy said as she returned to holding Julie’s hand.

“You looked happy, so it’s fine,” Julie said.

Although Julie couldn’t see, Sammy’s smile widened at those words. However, it was short-lived, that smile soon becoming tinged with distant memories. They walked downhill to the river and then followed it, every step slow, reluctant.

“When I was young,” Sammy said, “the maids would let me braid their hair and weave in flowers.”

Julie heard the emotion in Sammy’s voice, but she couldn’t tell what emotion it was and, even if she knew, she doubted she’d know what to say anyway. Rather than give empty consolations, she stayed quiet.

But what Sammy had said did bring up memories of her own. She could remember seeing maids walk around with flowers in their hair, how the young women she shared the barracks with had done the same, even struggled to plait their short hair so the flowers would stay in.

It was strange to Julie how Sammy had gone from an adored child to someone the maids complained about being assigned to. All the more because, to Julie, Sammy hadn’t really changed.

Belatedly, Julie realised it was because Sammy was queer. Julie didn’t understand why that mattered, but that was what had changed. Everyone began to talk about her differently once the rumours started. Of course, no one had ever dared to say anything bad, but it had been noticeable (even to Julie) how the good things stopped being mentioned.

Pulling Julie out of her thoughts, Sammy spoke again.

“You know, in the times before the Catastrophe, this southern part of Sonlettier was its own country with its capital city along this river,” she said.

“Really?” Julie asked.

Sammy nodded. “It was a prosperous place, renowned for its beautiful glass. They would bring sand over the mountains in huge trains of wagons,” she said, looking south, “and then make everything from cutlery to shoes out of the glass. Of particular note, the sand they used gave the glass a rather pretty shade of red, and it was so renowned that most ancient languages had their own term for it that translates as ‘bloodglass’.”

Realising she was prattling on, Sammy stopped there and said, “My apologies for rambling.”

But Julie shook her head. “No, it’s interesting. I mean, I never learned… much,” she said.

Sammy mulled over that reply before deciding to continue. “Well, we don’t quite know why everyone called it bloodglass. It’s probable that they used slaves to collect the sand and make the glass, so it might be referring to that; or it might just be something of a malicious rumour, the other countries jealous and spreading the lie that it got its colour from blood being mixed with the glass.”

Julie frowned. “Slaves?” she asked.

It took Sammy a second to realise why Julie sounded so puzzled. “People who are… forced to work. The gods forbid it after the Catastrophe.”

Julie didn’t entirely understand, but got the gist of it. “Oh.”

“The world before the Catastrophe was, in many ways, a rather unpleasant place,” Sammy said softly, then she cleared her throat. “I brought up the glass because, during a conflict with another country, the capital was ransacked and every piece of glass was smashed and swept into the river. To this day, there are still countless remnants being washed downstream, smoothed into gemstones which we call petty rubies.”

That really tingled Julie’s interest, her gaze slipping to the stones on the riverbank. “Are they worth much?”

Sammy giggled, squeezing Julie’s hand.

“Worthless. They’re pretty, but glass easily chips and scratches, so they soon becomes dull. However, it’s an old tradition for traders going to Dworfen to buy one from this priory as a token of good luck for the voyage.”

Pausing there, Sammy burst into a fresh round of giggles, ending with a sigh.

“There is actually a story of an… enterprising trader who bought a thousand petty rubies with the intent to sell them for profit, only to find no one wanted to buy them off him,” Sammy said.

Julie understood why Sammy had laughed, a few chuckles slipping out. “What did the sisters do?”

“They bought back all the rubies but one and invited him for dinner—which he declined,” Sammy said.

This time, Julie couldn’t help herself, falling into a bout of laughter. When it trailed off, she settled into a smile. “Did you want to come here for a ruby?”

“Hmm,” Sammy said, taking a moment to put together her reply. “That is one reason.”

“Are there more reasons?” Julie asked.

Sammy kept her silence for a few more steps, a handful of seconds. “If not for this… adventure… here is where I intended to run away to, to live my life,” she said, little more than a whisper.

Surprised, Julie stuttered as she asked, “W-what?”

“I told you my parents planned to wed me to a man, and I think it should be clear by now that I would rather not,” Sammy said, a touch wry. “So I had planned an escape—the route we have taken.”

They walked in silence for a good minute after that revelation before Julie finally spoke. “You… were really going to run away?”

“If I may be frank, just the thought of kissing a man greatly upsets me, never mind what marriage would entail. That life would be an emotional torture and I have no reason to subject myself to it. I have no duty to my country, no honour to uphold. All I have is my life and I intend to live it in accordance with my beliefs.”

Again, Sammy realised she’d slipped into ranting, but this time held the apology; she thought it was something that Julie should hear.

The only insight Sammy had into what Julie thought of everything she’d said was that Julie still held her hand. Honestly, that was enough for Sammy. She didn’t need to be told she was right or be pitied or praised. No, all she needed was this comfort—this break from the loneliness that had smothered her until but a month ago.

In silence, they walked back to the priory.

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