Chapter 22 ∞ Spoiled

When I woke up in the morning, my head was pounding with a terrible headache. I was sweating and panting. Strange exhaustion washed over me as I stirred to consciousness. I rolled around in bed and realized I had been tucked in in the same clothes I had been wearing the entire day yesterday. What's more, everything around me was riddled with frost—nearly every corner in the room, actually. Fragile and blurry ice tipped from the bed sheets like small blades of grass. Leafy patterns stretched over the painted walls. As I waded around under the blanket, I felt them collapse under my fingers.

As I had debated what to do next, knocks resounded on the other side of a door. I turned towards the sound, realizing it was the door connecting my room to Mistress Veronika's. "Evy? Are you awake yet?"

"No, mistress…" I said, rising. I threw my feet off the bed and looked to find my shoes, only to find them in the same state as every other thing in the room. I sighed, disappointed, as I rolled my shoulders in despair. "Please don't open the door just yet."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The frost acted up again," I told her. "Please don't come in."

There was a pause. "How bad is it?" she asked.

"Every corner of the room."

"Alright," she stated. I heard a small sigh follow right after. "Evy, don't be afraid. It's very normal, much like wetting the bed."

I swallowed, squirming in discomfort.

"You've wet your bed a few times before."

Don't remind me. Don't turn this into something embarrassing.

At this point, I just wanted to throw some tape at my mistress' mouth, hoping she would shut up if I did.

"There are things we can't control," she continued. "And it happens sometimes."

She wasn't calming me at all, she was just annoying!

"Did you have any dreams?" she inquired.

"Not that I can remember," I told her, teeth grinding as I clenched my jaw. I went through my memories of the dream, or what was left of it, but found they slipped through my fingers the harder I tried to grab hold of them. There was, however, an uncomfortable knot in my chest and a pounding in my head that said last night wasn't so simple.

I didn't know how to control the frost other than through that song…unless I was singing while I was asleep?

"Evy, darling, why don't you come to me instead?" my mistress inquired. "Surely, that wouldn't be a problem now, would it?"

"I don't know."

The truth was that I felt a little dejected and didn't feel like leaving this place anytime soon. This frost might be harmful to everything else, but it did nothing to me. Sunlight streamed through the blinds. The warmth flowed into the room, slightly ridding it of the cold energy. While it didn't melt the frost right away, it helped it disperse much faster. This was the sort that didn't melt and, instead, directly dissipated.

I stood and walked towards the windows. I reached up and lightly swept the curtains aside, letting more of the sun in. Maybe it was the Vertvaldenian in me that really savored its presence, but I found it really comforting. I stood there, basking in its light, taking deep breaths. I never realized I was so cold.

"Evy?"

"It's alright, mistress," I said. "Would you give me a few minutes alone?"

There was a pause. "Alright. I'll give you thirty," she said. "I'll ask again in a while. My door is open. Come in when you're ready."

I heard some shuffling on the other side of the door before I was finally given peace. I sank on the floor where the sunlight was streaming, looking out into the vast, blue skies like the weirdo I was. I didn't pay heed to the frost behind me and focused on relieving myself of the coldness in my body. It was not only physically ailing me. There was more to it, I knew.

After a bit, I finally was contented and more comfortable. I looked behind me and realized the frost was nearly gone. I have to find a way to control this soon. I realized I'm being put in situations I'm very uncomfortable with.

I decided to head to my mistress's room.

"Mistress?" I knocked.

"Come in, Evy."

I stepped in. Mistress Veronika saw herself to some breakfast, casually munching away on some scones and drinking her cup of tea. The aroma was fragrant, and she looked more casual than she sounded moments ago.

She sucked on her fingers when she saw me and swallowed. "Did you see to your business?" she asked.

"Yes, I did."

"Good," she said. "Come and eat breakfast. I was planning on waiting for you, but I was starving. I have here some steamed rice, eggs, and some sweet sausage. I also have some smoked fish in here if you want."

"Thank you, mistress. I'm really hungry." I didn't stand on ceremony and immediately dove in to stuff myself with the food. The smell was beyond tempting.

"How was it?" she asked.

"Which was how?" I countered. "The food?"

"Oh, come on. You know what I'm talking about."

"It's alright. You were right. It's just like wetting the bed," I said, a smile stretching my lips. "All I had to do was change the sheets."

Not that I literally did.

"Good girl."

We shared a laugh.

If it had been my adoptive mother, she would've been pacing back and forth until I came out. Mistress Veronika's attitude was refreshing, and I sensed her trust in my capabilities. I did catch my mistress letting out a heavy sigh, her pinky trembling a little as she lifted her cup of tea to her lips. Maybe I was overthinking it, perhaps I wasn't…Either way, she might be more worried than she looked.

As I was finishing up my plate, my mistress sat back, pulling the napkin from her lap and wiping her lips with the corner. "You mentioned the Temple of the Gods yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yeah," I said.

"The Temple of the Gods is pretty boring, though," she said. "They only have monks reciting their daily prayers. Are you sure you want to go there?"

I was left with a note yesterday that had that place written down. I didn't know what it was for and was a little wary about it, but my curiosity was killing me. The good thing was that I have Mistress Veronika to prevent that from literally happening in case this was a real trap. But why would anyone trap me? Surely this didn't have anything to do with the trouble I got myself in with saving that boy's life?

"Can't civilians pray as well?"

"Of course they can."

"Do the word god in there refer to the dragons and the serpent?"

"They do," she said. "In a way, I suppose. They do…and for every other unnamed entities that do not interfere with our way of life directly. Gods refer to the cosmos as a whole. It can also refer to the bit of us, the immortal part, that rides the fabric of time. Our bodies belong to the earth and will return to it thusly. Our souls, our knowledge, our minds—belong to the cosmos and will return to it thusly. We own nothing, apparently, not even ourselves. Everything we have, we borrow."

"Wow, that's deep," I muttered. I wiped my lips with my napkin and threw it on my plate, brows rising as I squared my shoulders.

"That's the principles of the temple. If you will pray there, that means you believe in what they believe in."

"I don't disagree," I told her. "It's a good belief. It's very reasonable…Besides—" my voice fell to a whisper "—I know of people who're forced to believe in things because their families raised them to believe in it. They don't necessarily agree with what they're being told. They do it to fit in. That isn't faith. That's just pretense."

I fell into a trance as I recalled my past life.

I remembered my previous world and how matters of faith, something so pure and sacred, had turned into something so manipulative. I was born in a religious family and was raised with the fear of a higher power. However, as I grew up and got exposed to the liberties of other religions, my broadened horizons no longer wished to be restrained by the beliefs propagated by the local priest—partly because of the priest himself. I believed in the words and the bible to some extent. It carried wisdom and ethereality. I knew the verses. I knew the prayers. But I started wishing I could believe and practice my faith without relying on a book misinterpreted and rewritten by the corrupted.

My country had been subdued through faith. We were turned into brainless, believing fools. The pen was mightier than the sword? In our case, it was the cross that was mightier. Our culture was half-killed by others forcing their faith upon us. We were labeled barbarians. Our people fighting for their beliefs were labeled heretics and slain by the church.

The local priest? How was he holy? I had stumbled on him molesting a woman at the back of the church, a supposed sanctuary, the supposed home of God. Had my eyes been playing tricks on me? In the community, he was the one most familiar with the words of God, after all. Wasn't he supposed to be practicing what he preached?

I watched longer, in denial. His grubby fingers had inched to touch her waist, trailing down to her behind and squeezing. He didn't even try to be subtle about it. The woman could not utter a word, for she had confessed too many sins to the priest who was supposed to hold them in confidence. Instead, he threatened her with it and took advantage of her. She was quaking like a leaf, her lips trembling as she cast her eyes down and tried to move away from him. He wouldn't let her.

I tried telling others, but what happened? I was the one thrown out instead and banned from showing my face around there again. For the heralds of the devil, religion was a tool. Was Satan capable of tempting others by telling them who he was? No, of course not. As a wolf, he gained and accomplished more by pretending to be the sheep.

I closed my eyes. My life's downfall had begun there. Everything went wrong after I tried to do what I thought was right. Injustice prevailed in the end. The narrow-mindedness of my people drove me away. My relationship with my mother from my past life turned for the worse after that. But even if I didn't, the fallout was due to happen soon. Our relationship had been hanging by the threads, to begin with.

When I insisted on what I saw, a resounding slap had landed on my cheeks. I could still feel it stinging. I didn't know why it was such a big deal back then. Perhaps I was a little too ignorant, insensitive, and naïve to understand what was going on.

Maybe it was my fault. Why did I even believe anyone would listen? Those people detested me for many reasons. They thought I was too well-read and thus acted arrogantly, especially after having been nurtured by a liberal education.

"What do you believe in, Evyionne?" my mistress inquired softly.

I looked up. I realized my shoulders had dropped and my head was hanging. Hearing Veronika, I straightened myself and focused on her question.

"I believe everyone has a reason for believing," I said. "One cannot hold it against them if their faith is strong. I wish I had that kind of thing, really—I want to have a thing I can believe in as much as those monks in the temple. I want something I can believe in that other people would not be able to tempt me away from. Maybe that's too much to ask for, though."

"That thing will come to you one day," she said. "And it's not always so abstract as the Gods or the cosmos. Just don't forget to make your life meaningful." Mistress Veronika shook her head. "Get dressed then. We leave in ten."

"Ten what? Ten minutes? That fast?" My brows shot up.

"We have a flight to catch in the afternoon. The sooner we get back, the better, isn't it?"

I nodded hesitantly and went back to my room. The frost had gone, but it felt like the walls had decayed a bit. It almost seemed as though nobody had seen to this room for over a decade. I scratched my head and went to find the bow. I had stuffed it under the bed last night.

I swept the silken covers aside and ducked under. To my surprise, it was in perfect condition. I lifted the handle of the wooden case and pulled it out. The spot it occupied seemed untouched by the frost compared to the rest of the room. In fact, the first two inches further around where it sat was also fine as well.

"Mistress?" I said, turning to the open door that led to her room. "I think I'm in trouble." I looked around the decayed room and wondered how it should be dealt with.

She leaned back from where she stood so that she could look in, eyes rolling around to scan my room. She didn't seem very surprised and even dismissively shrugged. "Don't worry about it. This is not a big deal."

I heeded her words and did not worry about it. It was my mistress after all so I would leave it to her. When had I ever been in trouble? As long as they were around, they shielded me as much as they could.

I felt so spoiled, but I liked it.