Lyset (2)

Crack!

The cup in Goldense’s hand fell to the ground and shattered.

The young priest quickly stood up and cleared away the shards.

“Were you startled?”

“Ah…”

“This is truly a great blessing. In fact, I also strongly spoke to the Cathedral on your behalf.”

The priest spread his arms with a triumphant smile, as if to show off his influence.

Of course, what he said was true.

For a priest overseeing just two or three small villages to send a rural girl into Nastrand’s Grand Cathedral as a Holy Sister was not just pride—it was nearly a miracle.

Many nobles and landowners desired to place their daughters there. Having a family member become a Holy Sister was a great honor, a form of power, and an absolution for many things.

So those who knew understood how much pressure and backroom dealing went into it.

“It is surely an opportunity that will never arrive again. The highest honor for this village.”

Once a year, from across the Duchy’s lands, only about twenty were chosen…

And now, Lyset had been given a place among them.

Of course, harsh religious training, discipline, and piety would be required until death—but that was the Holy Sister’s burden, not the burden of those sending her.

After a long silence, Goldense carefully spoke.

“…Thank you. It is indeed an honor. But what will Lyset think… She is only eight years old.”

“The younger she is, the better to engrave the Word and live by it. At such an age she knows little of the world’s temptations.”

“We should ask Lyset. She is a wise child…”

Goldense staggered to her feet and went toward the storage room. The priests followed behind her.

“Lyset, what are you doing in this dark place?”

Goldense opened the door to the storage room.

“…!!!”

Goldense’s heart sank.

“Grandmother?”

In Lyset’s hand, as she turned around, something was hanging.

It was a necklace. But the old woman instantly knew what kind it was.

A necklace strung with the bones of small animals—the kind worn by the priestesses of the God Olrun.

How this little girl had learned to tie knots, or where she had gathered such things, was a mystery.

With the priests right behind her, Goldense hurriedly snatched the necklace, threw it into the corner, and scattered the bones with her foot.

Almost at the same time, the priests entered.

“Ohh… Lyset, what are you doing in this dark place? Hm?”

Some of the bones hadn’t yet scattered across the floor.

Goldense’s wisdom shone again.

“She always draws pictures on the ground with those. It’s the age for it.”

“That’s true. I used to carve into the ground and trees myself. Hahaha.”

The priest laughed, then knelt before Lyset and opened his arms.

Lyset glanced at Goldense with a questioning look. When Goldense nodded reassuringly, Lyset hesitantly stepped forward and nestled lightly into the priest’s arms.

“Our Lyset, I have good news for you. Don’t you want to hear it?”

Lyset nodded.

“Far from here, in the Great Castle of Nastrand, there is a Grand Cathedral. It’s more beautiful than you could ever imagine. They want to see you there. You’ll find delicious food, fun catechisms, and many friends your own age. Well? Aren’t you curious?”

Lyset looked straight into the priest’s eyes and spoke.

“I’m not curious.”

At that bold reply, all the priests burst into laughter.

It was the expected answer for her age. But Goldense’s old heart pounded painfully as she watched.

“Of course, you love your grandmother and the people of your village more. But you see, there is a greater and more wondrous world than just living and dying in this small village. There is something you can do for Nastrand, for the Lord.”

“Not now. It isn’t the time yet. Please give me a little more time to enjoy what is precious to me.”

Calm words, unbelievable for an eight-year-old. Yet within them was an immense chill.

With eyes as cold as that chill, Lyset stared straight at the priests.

“Because I know exactly what I must do for Nastrand—no, for all the many duchies of this land.”

Once again, the cold swept through.

The priest slowly released Lyset and stepped back. The two younger priests behind him also looked at each other, astonished at the girl’s unnervingly perfect self-expression.

“My word… Lyset, for such a young child to speak her thoughts so clearly. Truly remarkable…”

The chill faded from Lyset’s eyes, and they returned to shining like stars as usual.

Those eyes turned toward Goldense.

“Grandmother! I’ll run to your arms!”

As Lyset slipped past the priest and clung tightly to her, Goldense stroked her back and looked apologetically at the priest.

“She is still this young. Still a child… Please, do not take away the greatest joy of this old woman’s life.”

“You cannot know, Sister Goldense, how great this opportunity is, and how many desire it.”

As she looked at the sighing priest, Lyset once again spoke, her eyes filled with that cold gleam.

“I will go. But not now. I will go when my grandmother has entered her rest. After that.”

“Rest? Do you even know what that means?”

“I know. It is eternal peace and repose.”

There was no easy counter to that. Except perhaps one…

“You forgot to add ‘in the Lord,’ Lyset.”

The priest sighed.

“To think she is this clever… If High Priest Kraf knew that an eight-year-old child could speak this way, how amazed he would be!”

“Father, please grant us time…”

Goldense looked earnestly at the priest and continued.

“Lyset has said she will go, has she not? Please, let us cherish more memories together… As you see, I don’t have much left before my own rest.”

“Hmm…”

The priest thought for a long while, then nodded.

“Very well. If I explain it that way, surely they will grant mercy and delay. The wish to become a Holy Sister has been confirmed. A child this wise must indeed become one. When I speak again, I will have them grant a postponement. So be it.”

“Thank you…”

The priest nodded, then his eyes fell upon a toy in the corner of the storage room.

It was a hanging toy, given long ago when Lyset was first brought to the village. Upon its surface were drawn tales of the old gods and their symbols.

It was a toy Lyset still cherished, often caressing it with affection.

“Sister Goldense, what is that?”

The smile vanished from the priest’s face.

Things that should have been utterly destroyed, utterly forgotten, remained.

Goldense rushed forward in panic and grabbed it.

“She has never even taken it out to play with! It is nothing—only fit to be used as firewood!”

“Then why wasn’t it burned long ago? Why leave it here?”

“Th-that…”

Even the wise Goldense could only tremble before such a grave sin.

All things related to Olrun, Manafreya, priestesses, and their symbols were forbidden. Merely possessing such an item was a great crime. Goldense’s frail body would never survive even the simplest interrogation.

At that moment, Lyset rushed forward, clung tightly to Goldense’s leg, and burst into tears.

The priest faltered at the sight of a frightened child weeping. Only moments ago he had spoken kindly of Lyset’s entrance into Nastrand’s sisterhood. Her tears broke through his sternness.

“Do not cry, Lyset. Your grandmother only made the smallest of mistakes, and I have as much mercy as I have duty from the Lord.”

The priest stroked Lyset’s head and ordered Goldense.

“I know this was only a mistake. Split that cursed image and script before my eyes and throw it into the fire.”

The old woman propped the toy against the wall and lifted an axe with effort.

Her legs trembled, her arms barely able to bear the weight. Yet none of the priests helped. This was something she had to prove herself.

‘Oh God Olrun, Goddess Manafreya… please forgive me.’

Crack!

The old tale of gods and dragons was split in two.

Knowing Lyset’s sad gaze was fixed on it, Goldense deliberately avoided looking that way.

She gathered the splintered wood and threw it into the hearth. The priests’ eyes followed every motion until the end.

“Good, good. Now this house is a little more filled with the Lord’s blessing.”

“Thank you…”

“Then, next time we shall hold worship in this house, and I will also bring more details about the Holy Sister matter. Once your knees are better, Sister Goldense, I hope to see you at the meeting hall.”

The priest gave his blessing, offered a brief prayer, and then descended the hill along the path between the gardens.

Once they had disappeared from sight, Goldense turned back.

“Lyset…!”

With eyes full of cold, Lyset glared at the direction they had gone. Then she entered the house and stared at the charred remnants of Olrun’s stories and symbols in the hearth.

Goldense came up behind her.

“Lyset.”

“Yes?”

“What was it you were making in the storage room earlier?”

“A necklace.”

“How did you learn to make it? Who taught you?”

“At night, animals come to me in my dreams.”

“What animals?”

“A blue reindeer, a silver wolf, a brown bear… and a very fierce hawk.”

The old woman’s body trembled again. The memories of the day she had first brought Lyset back came vividly.

“Those animals taught you?”

“Yes. They taught me in detail how to make it, step by step.”

Shaking, Goldense embraced Lyset tightly.

“Lyset, never—never tell anyone about this. Even I don’t know what will happen to you or what kind of child you truly are. But this world is not a place where you can speak of or show such things…”

The cold left Lyset’s eyes.

Her deep, shining eyes turned to her grandmother.

“I am Lyset. I like the name you gave me, Grandmother. I am Lyset. Lyset will become someone important.”

“Yes, you are Lyset. My beloved granddaughter. I am sorry I broke and burned your toy, my dear.”

Lyset clasped Goldense’s hand tightly, as if to say it was fine now.

That night, as Lyset slept quietly beside her, Goldense could not fall asleep.

Of course, it was true she had raised Lyset telling her old myths, answering her questions. And little by little, her own memories of worshipping Olrun and Manafreya had resurfaced, making her drift from her current faith.

No, to be precise, Goldense had already abandoned her current faith and returned to the old belief in Olrun and Manafreya.

But this was different in depth.

Leaving aside the matter of the Holy Sister, Lyset’s self-made necklace, the animal bones, and the dreams kept making Goldense sigh.

‘What are Olrun and Manafreya planning to do with this child?’

Goldense recalled the long-vanished figure of the “priestess,” but she felt Lyset was different. Even if Lyset had inherited the blood of a priestess, in this age where the old faith and all its traditions were utterly destroyed, no one remained to teach her the priestess’s role.

“Lyset, what sort of child are you?”

Overcome with worry, Goldense endlessly caressed her granddaughter’s flushed cheek.