Blood Upon Moss

[Burnsider 4543]

Spoiler

This post was meant to be written shortly after the warclaim on 2/5. Unfortunately, weekends are time to spend with the wife and kid and I didn't have the opportunity. However, this takes place shortly after the warclaim.

 

This is a private roleplay post, not meant to be known to the general public. For the sake of storytelling, though, It has been posted here.

 

Blood Upon the Mossy Cobbles

A Lament to the Skies

 

 

Sister Silence knelt upon the ground in the grotto, the moss under her knees a cushion she could not even be grateful for. Her hands rose to her eyes and she saw the blood that covered them. Blood of Descendants. Blood of the living. Blood of those she ended. She concentrated, staring at the blood. Like magic, the blood fell and landed on the ground beneath her. But though it was no longer staining her hands, it did nothing to cleanse the stain of guilt she felt from the battle.

 

She was a servant of GOD, given divine purpose through consecration and ordination, such purpose amplified through the Light of GOD and the teachings of the Shepherd. But her memories of mortality kept her from purely accomplishing her purpose. She had flashes of memory, of being pierced repeatedly, of falling, of three words whispered, "I forgive you." And there was an anger in those memories, fueled by zealotry and dogmatism. She had felt that punishment needed meting out.

 

Yet now, with blood staining the sacred ground of the grotto, with the ceiling weeping drops of blood from the battle above, she knew that anger never brings forth justice. Justice is specific. Justice is exact. Justice is limited. When she raised her hand against those who killed the old woman, that was justice. But what she had just done in the battle, could it be called justice? Many of those who fought were fighting over land that was once theirs. Many fought because the whips of their masters forced them to. She knew that there was no way to separate the sinful from the sinless as her spear thrusted again and again into the ranks of red uniforms before her. She knew that her thrusts were not specific, the bodies pierced not exact, the blood around her not limited. It was not justice at all.

 

It was sin.

 

From above her, light shone down, illuminating her, and she raised her head, wishing that tears would once again fall from her visage. She felt the warmth of the light and she prayed and she felt the answer to those prayers fill her. Sister Silence rose from her knees. She was a servant of GOD, given divine purpose through consecration and ordination, such purpose amplified through the Light of GOD and the teachings of the Shepherd. And she would no longer let herself be distracted. The time for revelation was at hand.