The Duke Of Carostria

'Life is a sort of tragic existence, with its storms and it's grandeurs, its monotony and its diversity, and that is why we, perhaps, embark on its short voyage.' The words said on the first page of the book. Old but insightful. Pages of this book had long lost the scent they carried.

As I was tidying up the library, this book revealed itself, hidden behind a shelf, likely having slipped through a narrow gap many years ago. Shrouded in a cloak of dust, it lay as a relic of a bygone era. Cradling it in my hands, I turned its delicate pages with utmost care, each leaf a fragile testament to the passage of time.

I couldn't pinpoint exactly why this book had captured my attention. Was it merely my curiosity piqued by its solitary exile behind the shelf, unnoticed and neglected? Or perhaps it was the title "Faith" that kindled my intrigue, urging me to delve into its pages.

Here I was, nestled in the serene embrace of the monastery's garden. The morning sunlight filters through the canopy of trees, crafting dappled patterns of light and shadow upon the lush green grass. A gentle breeze whispers through the leaves carrying with it the promise of coming cold month, yet still bearing the lingering warmth of the summer's embrace.

My fingers tracing the elegant script upon its weathered pages. The air is filled with the fresh scent of slightly humid grass, mingling harmoniously with the delicate fragrance of blossoming flowers that adorn the garden's edge.

"Sometimes, I'm seized by the urge to capture your image with a brush and canvas, but alas, I'm no artist," remarked Mayra, a fellow nun and my companion in the monastery. She placed a tub of freshly washed clothes in the garden and began hanging them on a line stretched between two trees, letting them sway gently in the breeze.

"You should be a bit cautious with your words, Mayra. If any noble were to encounter such an enchanting nun with a penchant for flirtation, they might not hesitate," I teased her in response. Mayra was known for her candid and open demeanour, a trait somewhat uncharacteristic, perhaps unexpected, for a nun.

"Do you honestly believe any noble would venture into a village as remote as ours? The monastery itself has seen better days; we've stopped receiving support from the Sanctum. These past months, it's been the Pope and the priest who've been digging into their own pockets to keep us afloat," Mayra pointed out, her words reflecting the stark reality. Our monastery, perched on the edge of the estate in a scarcely populated village, had long fallen off the Sanctum's radar.

"I overheard the Pope mentioning that he's put in a request with this year's Knight Order," I shared, remembering the conversation.

"Wait, does that mean knights from the Order might actually come here?" Mayra's voice lifted with a hint of excitement.

"It's a possibility. They'll be scouting for a nun to serve at the Sanctum. Should anyone be chosen, the knights will be charged with her safe passage," I explained, tempering her enthusiasm with the practicalities of our situation.

"I can only imagine what those knights might look like," Mayra mused, a playful, somewhat mischievous glint in her eyes that belied her usual nun-like demeanor.

Brushing off the distraction, I pushed myself to my feet, closing the book that had been left unread due to our conversation. "Do you know which way the children went?" I asked, preparing to set off in search of them.

"They mentioned something about playing hide and seek in the western forest today," she replied, folding another piece of laundry.

"Those little scamps," I muttered under my breath, a mix of fondness and exasperation coloring my tone. "They know full well today was meant for their history lessons, and yet they've scampered off to avoid it." With a resigned sigh, I started towards the monastery's exit.

"Don't be too stern with them," Mayra called out after me, her voice carrying a light, teasing note.

It was easier said than done. The daily routine of rousing them from bed, ensuring they bathed, preparing their meals, and managing my own responsibilities as a nun had become my new normal. And yet, despite the challenges, there was a sense of fulfillment in these acts of service.

However, my steps faltered as I saw the same group of children, who had mischievously skipped their history lessons, rushing back towards the monastery, their faces etched with sheer terror. The unusual scene immediately drew Mayra's attention as well.

Quickly, I moved towards the frightened children, my concern growing as they clung to my dress, their small bodies shaking with sobs. Gently, I knelt down to their level, offering them a comforting embrace. "Shh, it's alright. You're safe now," I reassured them, my voice a soothing remedy as I stroked their backs.

Mayra joined in, wrapping her arms around them to provide additional comfort. Her voice was laced with concern as she inquired, "What's wrong, little ones? Did someone frighten you in the forest?"

Their reaction was far from ordinary, and it was clear that whatever had spooked them was more serious than a mere scolding. The urgency in their eyes hinted at a situation that needed immediate attention.

"F-forest…" one of the children stammered through sobs.

"A monster in the forest?" I asked, my mind racing with the thought of needing to alert the priest immediately. However, the child shook his head, barely managing to speak through his tears, "A man... lying there – like he's dead."

"You saw a man in the forest, and you think he's dead?" I clarified, ensuring I understood the child's distress. He nodded, his eyes wide with fear.

As we tried to calm the children, two more nuns rushed over, alarmed by the commotion. Mayra gestured to them, instructing them to soothe the children as we separated ourselves from the group.

With a sense of urgency, we hurried out of the monastery, following the path that led to the children's usual play area. Delving deeper into the forest, our search was soon met with a shocking sight: a man lay motionless on the ground, his body covered in blood, devoid of any clothing.

As I neared the motionless figure, the sight was indeed disturbing. His body, smeared with a mix of dried blood and sand, was unsettling, and it was clear why the children had been so terrified.

Carefully, I reached out to check for any signs of life, pressing my fingers against his neck and wrist. To my relief, there was a faint but definite pulse. He was alive, though barely, and immediate care was crucial for his survival.

Mayra extended a shawl towards me, which I gratefully accepted and used to cover the man's exposed body.

Despite his unconscious state, he was surprisingly heavy. With considerable effort, Mayra and I managed to carry him back to the monastery dorms. We gently laid him down in a vacant room, just as the priest walked in.

"I heard about the situation," the priest said succinctly as we stepped aside, giving him room to work. He approached the bed and began a spell, his fingers tracing intricate patterns in the air. Words, arcane and elusive, hovered briefly before a gentle wave of magical energy washed over the man, cleansing him of all dirt and blood. As the grime disappeared, it revealed a striking appearance beneath.

The transformation was startling. It became immediately clear that this man was no ordinary individual. His features held an allure that was hard to ignore. Both Mayra and I were taken aback by his striking presence. She seemed utterly captivated, her gaze fixed intently on him, lost in thought.

The priest carefully examined the man, then signaled for us to leave for a moment. He began to remove the shawl, and I quickly realized that it was not appropriate for us to witness more. Gently pulling Mayra, who was still transfixed, I guided her out of the room and softly closed the door behind us, leaving the priest to tend to the mysterious stranger.

"No way," Mayra whispered in disbelief.

I nodded in response to her unspoken question. Our lives had mostly been confined to this village and its surroundings, and never had we encountered anyone with such extraordinary features. It felt like a character stepped out of the pages of a storybook.

"I have a feeling he's not just any ordinary person," I mused aloud, and Mayra agreed.

"If he's a noble, his family would probably have already issued a search and sent knights to find him," she reasoned. "But for now, all we can do is wait and see who he really is when he wakes up."

Her words held a mix of curiosity and concern. The mystery of the stranger's identity and the implications of his arrival in our quiet village lingered in the air.

As we stood outside the room, the door opened, revealing the priest stepping out.

"Good morning, Father," we greeted him in unison.

"Good morning, Sister Mayra and Sister Serene," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of concern. "The man inside has internal injuries, which is unusual given the absence of external wounds. He needs rest for now and should awaken soon."

"Keep an eye on him, and ensure the children stay away. His identity remains unknown," he advised.

"Of course, Father," we both said, nodding in agreement as the priest walked towards the prayer hall.

I turned my attention to the children, sternly instructing them to avoid the area near the stranger's room. Meanwhile, Mayra engaged in hushed conversations with the other nuns about the mysterious man. My mind was swirling with questions about his identity, how he ended up in such a state, and why there was no prior commotion heard. It almost seemed as if he had been dropped right into our midst from nowhere.