The morning sun rose from the murky water as creation awakened from its slumber. Villagers set out for work, and farm animals scattered across the open field.
Today was another day for Cyril, a young man who had lost both of his parents at a very young age and now bore the responsibility of nurturing his little sister, who suffered from an incurable illness.
However, that did not stop him from taking care of his only loved one. Every day, he went out to the town square to look for a commission so that he could provide for his sister.
"Safia.. you need to eat. Here, I'll feed you," Cyril said, scooping a spoonful of bland porridge for his sister.
But Safia gently moved his hand away from her mouth, unwilling to eat.
"Nn.. brother.. I don't want to eat.. you haven't eaten either, have you? I don't want to burden you," Safia replied with a weak voice, putting on a small smile that reassured him.
"You're not a burden, Safia. I would never think you are," Cyril sighed.
"I need to go to the town. I'll leave the porridge here, alright? Remember to finish it." He put down the bowl of porridge beside her bed.
Safia nodded weakly. "Okay.. I will.. And brother..? Be safe out there.. please.."
Cyril nodded reassuringly, gently stroking his sister's head.
"I will. Now rest, Safia."
With that, Cyril walked toward the door, glancing back at his sister one last time before leaving the house.
Once he left, he heard Safia coughing. She knew she was sick, yet for the sake of her brother, she wouldn't let him see her like that all the time — yet it only made Cyril more worried.
With a heavy heart, Cyril walked to the town square to begin his day.
The forest around him was quiet, and the only sounds that could be heard were the gentle breeze of the morning air and the soft rustling of the woods.
After a long while, Cyril finally reached the town square — it was bustling with the activities of townsfolk trading, baking, and farming in every corner of the square.
Cyril walked through the busy market, looking for any commission available.
Throughout his search, he occasionally saw men in white robes and fox masks. They were from the Imperial Church, sent by the Empire as the sovereign of this town.
"Those self-righteous bastards..."
Cyril clenched his fist and narrowed his eyes whenever he saw them pass by — knowing the atrocities they had committed ever since they arrived.
He kept his head down and continued walking far away from those men.
As he walked, he saw a crowd gathered in the center of the square. Curiosity got the better of him as he approached the crowd.
"What's going on?" he asked himself.
Cyril tried to stand on his tiptoes to see what was happening. However, he couldn't see anything from where he was standing.
With no other way, he pushed his way through the crowd, trying to get a better view of what was happening.
When he reached the middle of the commotion, he was shocked to see a mother being separated from her own child by the churchmen.
"Please! Just give me a few more days! I'll pay every coin I've borrowed!" the mother yelled and pleaded profusely.
She tried to struggle against them, but the churchmen's grip on her was too strong for her.
"Shut up, peasant! Or I'll kill this child for your sin!" one of them said harshly, threatening to end the child's life.
"Mama! Mama!" the child screamed for help toward his mother, yet she was powerless, bowing down to the ground and begging for mercy.
Everyone watched the commotion with regret and sorrow, unable to fight back against the church's authority.
But Cyril was furious. He bent down and grabbed a pebble from the ground.
Just as he was about to throw it at them, the man behind him stopped him by grabbing his wrist mid-throw.
"Calm down, kid. It's not worth it. They will kill you if you try," the man whispered in his ear.
Cyril clenched the pebble a moment longer before dropping it to the ground. Feeling defeated, he fled from the scene immediately.
He kept running until he stopped by a tree to catch his breath. He thought to himself — what if the child were Safia? Would he have run away like that?
Cyril punched the tree in rage, leaving a small crack in the tree's outer layer.
"Fuck! Why did they only watch!?" he yelled while keeping his head down.
He leaned back against the tree to calm his mind. He buried his face in his palm, knowing how powerless he was against the force of unjust authority.
Suddenly, Cyril overheard two women gossiping at the back of a tavern. Curious, he sneaked toward the two women to eavesdrop on them from inside the bushes.
"Did you hear? The church said they will storm the village in the southern part to search for a sacrifice."
Cyril's eyes widened in fear; his village was exactly where the woman mentioned.
"Really? Why?" the other woman asked.
"It's to prevent a famine the bishop prophesied, they say. It would take the blood of a virgin girl whose soul is pure from sin," the woman replied.
"But how would they know?"
The woman shrugged, shaking her head. "I don't know, but if it was the bishop who commanded it, he must have his way."
Cyril's discomfort grew by the second. What if they took Safia away from him?
"No.." he said to himself. He had promised her that he would do anything to protect her. He rushed out of the bushes and hurried back home in the hope that he was not too late.
—Penning the next chapter...