“...”

  Draped in white, they kneel in front of her image, a statue of stone. They stretch out their hands and lean forward until their foreheads press against the ground. They whisper, barely audible, words of great praise.

  “Worship me, place thy faith in me, and I will guide thou throughout times of hardship.”

  There was a single person standing beside the statue, holding a thick, red book. Clear fluid slides down from their eyes as they continue to relay the words from the book.

  The stained glass behind the statue began to glow warmly as the sun rose.

  The speaker closes the book gently and places it on the lectern stand in front of the statue. They all rose and vaguely gestured to their heart. The speaker places rests their hand on the book,

  “Goddess Adineas, grant us your blessing.”

  “Grant us your blessing.”

  They bow their heads.

  The statue is silent as expected, but they would claim to feel her presence if one were to ask. The statue smiles, it always smiles at them with silent glee.

  The girl standing in the front row pressed her hand against her chest with force, lips parting as she whispered once more, “Grant me your blessing…Grant me your blessing…Grant me your blessing…”

  Silence wafts over the chapel.

  Only to be broken by the speaker who walks down the aisle and towards the door. They push the wooden doors open and they are followed by the rest of her followers. They walked and walked until they reached the courtyard.

  They silently circle around the fountain, ignoring the glances and stares from the other students as they enter the final phase of their morning routine.

  “Hm?”

  The girl’s gaze falls upon a boy possessing vibrant crimson eyes, observing them in what appears to be awe.

  Ah, he must be the transfer student.

  She focuses again and surrenders her mind to the thoughts of Adineas.

  After five minutes, they gather at a small building near the chapel. They took off their veils and stored it inside the wooden closet. Most of the students began to make a run for it, eager to attend classes.

  The girl takes her time, smoothing out the wrinkles of her veil as it hangs in the closet rod.

  “Between the two of you, I wonder who will receive the Goddess’s favor this time.”

  A voice asks from behind.

  It’s her classmate.

  She’s a bit short, shoulder-length blonde hair and cerulean eyes. Her round face often leads people to mistake her for a very young girl.

  “Myrtle…” She whispers her name.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Myrtle crosses her arms as she smiles at her.

  “One of you will return to her side.”

  “...”

  “So don’t look so depressed.”

  “Myrtle, I don’t think I’m ready…” She says as she rubs her left arm. “I have so much to do…”

  “Like what?”

  “...”

  “Well, if you’re not gonna tell me that’s also fine.”

  Myrtle pulls a small notepad from her pocket.

  “Since you’re still here, I might as well ask you.”

  “Oh, so you were the one assigned.”

  Myrtle huffs proudly, “And what an honor it is. So, who is it going to be for you?”

  “...I’m not sure yet…but I saw the transfer student when we were praying. He might be good enough.”

  “Ah, someone new. That may please our Goddess and rid of her boredom.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Thanks…” Myrtle writes down ‘transfer student’ in her notepad. “Okay, I’m going to ask the others outside.”

  “Myrtle.” She calls, stopping Myrtle from opening the door.

  “What is it?”

  “You spend a lot of time in the library, right?”

  “Yeah, why? You can’t come with, by the way.”

  “Of course I’m not going to go with you. I just wanted to ask if there are research papers in there or something.”

  “Research papers? Depends on what. What are you looking for? I hope you know—”

  She sighs and rolls her eyes, “I know, it’s not related to our classes okay? You don’t have to worry about me getting more points than you or whatever.”

  “So what kind of papers?”

  “Old ones, like, from doctors, healers, alchemists…controversial ones.”

  “Controversial ones…?” Myrtle looked up thoughtfully, “I don’t think I’ve come across such works, but…if you tell me more about it specifically, maybe I know. What is it exactly?”

  “...You’ve gotta promise to not tell anyone.”

  “You know I can’t promise you anything.”

  “Myrtle, this is serious…You’re the only one person who knows the library like the back of your hand. And what I’m about to tell you can possibly cause some…trouble.”

  “...As in, getting punished?”

  “...Death.”

  “...”

  “...”

  “Yeah, no, I’m not getting involved in whatever it is you’re planning.”

  “Then at least tell me, do such documents exist? I’ll look for it myself.”

  “Hm…” Myrtle rests her chin between her thumb and index finger, smirking, “If I tell you, you’ll owe me for this one.”

  “Yes, I’ll do anything. I won’t signal, I’ll let you see my assignments, I can—I’ll even lend you my notes.” She says all too quickly.

  “Oh…you’re that desperate to know? What have you gotten yourself into?” Myrtle’s smirk fades as she faces an unfamiliar side of her competitive classmate. Myrtle swallows, not understanding why she suddenly feels chills down her back.

  Yeah, she definitely doesn’t want to get involved now, but at the same time, her owing her is a big benefit.

  “Okay, come here.” Myrtle places her hand behind the back of her classmate’s head. She pulls her closer until her lips are near her ear.

  “The archives may have them…I accidentally overstayed the other day and snuck around to leave the library, but then I overheard Mr. Thorn and Ms. Lottie talk about putting the new documents in the Archives…I don’t know what, but it seemed confidential since Mr. Thorn is involved…Plus, something about a revised paper on some experiment.”

  Archives…She’s never heard of a place.

  “You owe me.”

  Myrtle pulls away as she whispers. “And don’t snitch. You heard nothing from me.”

  “Thank you, Myrtle.”

  Myrtle almost gags from the sight of a genuine smile.

  “Seriously, what is wrong with you? Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”

  Myrtle rushes to the door, but before she leaves, she turns again and points at her.

  “You owe me, Jane Addawick.”

  “Yeah.” Jane Addawick waves.

  Once Myrtle left, Jane Addawick fishes her notepad out of her pocket, noting down ‘archives.’

  “Well, I guess it’s time to win and beat Jonathan.” She says as she leaves the building.