Asphel's lies: Chapter 1

The Morning's light was tinted a mixture of red, yellow, blue and white by the stained glass window. The picture formed by this window was of Saint Alabaster, a rather famous figure for a reason that was depicted in this window; he had a VERY substantial beard. That; and he was also one of the two most important figures of the Faith. However, at the moment, he was just a window, a very beautiful window, but a window. The light did have one good effect though; it woke up the room's one denizen.
She grumbled and sat up, not REALLY awake yet, but instead trapped in that half and half realm of sleep and NOT sleep. She shook her head, slipped out of bed, almost tripping on a shoe, and did her stretches. All in all, a sadly standard routine, yet effective. Finally awake enough to actually have cognitive thought, she took in her surrounding again, tapping her lower lip
"What was it? What was today? Wh- Yes! I almost forgot!" She stopped when she saw her new dress, a smile blooming "It's my bloody birthday!" In retrospect, she was really surprised she missed it at all. For one thing, the top room of the Abbey was really small, a bit drafty, and had a nice smell of incense, aged wood and baked goods to it. The dress was on a stand at the foot of her bed, she had stared at it for a solid five minutes when she woke up, not really thinking at the time. It was actually a bit embarrassing that she forgot about today, especially since it was significant for ANOTHER reason.
While yes, her birthday IS a significant affair, for her fellow denizens of the abbey at least, today was a good day for the entire town of Tirsin, today was Tirsin's day. And that means.....

Honey cakes

She clambered down the stairs as fast as she could, in her dress and with her pale blond hair done back with a ribbon. Sadly, at the thought of the sweet cakes she had almost forgotten to dress. Yes, they were that good. However, for some reason nudity is not accepted in a house of Asphel. Weird.
"Good morning!" She started with, hopping off of the stairs. There were two of the Brothers in the main congregation room, one Brother Albus and the other Brother Jim. Albus was a very old man, around seventy, with a demeanor that seems to have grown more unpleasant with each year. Now, he actively tried to make people not like him so they would leave him alone and let him study his books, something few others in the abbey had any interest in what so ever. The last strand of his white hair hung in front of his face from under the hood, partially obscuring one of his half-blind eyes.
"Good morning, Fellyione, and how did you sleep?" He rasped out, almost smiling. It seems the Festival's energy even got HIM a bit less unpleasant.
"Yes, are you ready to take on the day? You certainly got enough sleep." Brother Jim rose from his seat on the pew. He had an exasperated look, something quite common on his jolly and rotund face. He was, in practice, by far the most diligent and hardworking of the abbey's denizens, but he often tried to sleep in, eat extra, and act generally slothful. Fortunately for everyone but him, he failed constantly.
"Quite well and certainly, thanks you two for asking!" The girl, Fellyione, smiled brightly, bouncing lightly on her toes. However, after looking around to see if anyone else was in the room with them, she leaned towards them and loudly whispered "Hey, do you two know if Edwin has baked the cakes yet?" The thought of them alone made her mouth water. Jim leaned in as well, whispering back as Albus rolled his eyes.
"Aye, second batch is cooling now... I won't tell anyone you grabbed one if you grab me one as well." He winked at her, causing them both to chuckle.
"And what's to stop HIM from telling anyone?" Fellyione pointed at Albus in an attempt at subtlety, looking back over her shoulder at the kitchen. Albus shrugged.
"Consider it your birthday gift, and don't expect anything from me later." Fellyione nodded and dashed off, sneaking into the kitchen in the name of piracy!

It proved unnecessary; the baker was out somewhere else and the cakes were unguarded. To make sure that her crime was not AS bad, she snatched the two with the least amount of honey, taking a huge bite out of one as she return to Jim and Albus. She offered Jim the one with the bite, causing him to look distraught
"Someone's already half-eaten it!" He exclaimed, causing Fellyione to roll her eyes.
"Fine, take this one then!" She gave him the other, which he happily munched on. Albus slammed his book shut, shaking his head.
"And this is how darkness gets its start, with petty temptations!" He rose from the seat, using a chair for support. Jim shook his head, making sure to swallow before speaking.
"Nay, it was holy work! Fellyione seized that cake in the name of Asphel!" He grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her into his belly. Albus just shook his head again, though this time it was obvious he was hiding a smile.
"Fellyione, when you’re done damning yourself, your father wants to see you." Fellyione pulled away from Jim, tiling her head.
"Really?" she asked. Her Father was the head of the Abby, Father Darklyn, and a bit… reclusive. He studied ancient texts requested from the Citadel in his study, only coming out for meals, walks in the garden, and for sermons. This behavior had grown more and more severe in recent years, so now Fellyione barely ever saw her father. Her father asking to see her was QUITE substantial news.
"Yes, that’s what he told me this morning." Albus coughed a few times, preparing to imitate her father's voice "Tell Fellyione to come see me after she's done grabbing a sweet roll. I know she is going to, and don't give her a hard time about it Albus." It was impressive to say the least at how well Albus could imitate the deep and assuring voice of a man twenty years younger than him. It was just another talent of Albus Dusselforn. Fellyione smiled, trying hard not to giggle at the spot-on interpretation.
"Alright, well, I guess the festival will have to wait." She sighed some, going for the stairs back to the upper levels of the abbey "Wish me luck!" she called back.
"All of it," said Jim, waving at her
"Stay away from evil," Albus nodded at her, heavily suggesting she do just that.

Her father's study was unlocked, ALSO an exceptionally rare occurrence. So, she slowly opened the door and stepped in, looking around at her Father's private chambers. It was a few years since she had been in here, and it had changed in no way except getting dustier. Most of the walls were covered in bookshelves, lined with journals and tomes that no one could find the title of, nameless collections of documents that held within them cryptic knowledge. The floor's soft rug poofed with dust at every other step, making her nose itch quite dearly. By the room's lone window sat a small table, with some sort of glass container on it. That was new, but across from it was probably the most curious of her father's possessions. It was a large sword, the handle big enough for three hands to hold it and the blade almost as long as a man. Her father was never a soldier, but it was the biggest sword she had ever seen. Much larger than the ones that the caravan guards used. Why would he need it?
Thomas Darklyn was asleep in the chair at the far side of the room, his black robes already all clean for tonight’s sermon, hand resting over is private journal. Based on the presence of a quill and inkwell, she could only assume that it was being written in.... pretty recently. Probably was writing in it when he dosed off, waiting for her.
That's what you get for sleeping in.
She sat on the floor by her father's chair, using the side of it to rest her back as she took a rather massive tome off of a shelf. The script was tiny, unpleasant, and faded. She had only gotten through a page when she heard her father getting up.
"Fel? Where are you?" He asked no one, stretching as he pushed himself from the chair. Fel hopped up, putting the book on the shelf.
"Right here Dad, you okay?" She asked, tilting her head and slipping something behind her back. Her father looked at her curiously for a moment before shaking his head.
"I'm fine, would you please come here?" He waved his hand toward the window, making his way there himself. Fel followed him, now curious "Fel.... I know you don't like hearing about it, and I don't like talking about it, but… It's time." Fel tilted her head.
"Okay... for what?"
"Well, um, if your mother was with us she would talk to you about this…" Thomas and Fellyione Darklyn's shoulders both drooped in time, each looking away in different directions, trying to avoid eye contact with the other "Fel, your at an age where it's okay to start feeling different about men-" Fel looked over at him, blushing with wide eyes.
"H-hold on, Dad, where are you going with this?"
"I was going to tell you about love."
"You mean where babies come from."
"Okay, I guess technically-"
"No! Just, ew, No!" Fel crossed her arms and shook her head, looking at her father as if he grew an extra head. Her antics made him smile, chuckling softly.
"Okay then... but there IS something else I wanted to show you."
"Does it have anything to do with infants?" She asked warily, arching an eyebrow.
"No," he reassured her, gesturing to the glass case. Fel nodded her head, lifting it off the table slowly. Underneath was a large flower, it's black, red, and white petals forming a rose-style bulb. The five heads of it were each full and in strength, the plant itself looking VERY healthy. It was one of, if not the, most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. "That, Fel, is the Fellyione flower, what your mother named you after. They only grow in the darkest woods, where light touches its leaves MAYBE twice a year. However, it cannot be a dank swamp, if its roots get to wet it dies. So, they live only in VERY few areas, and are highly valuable. It's yours." Fellyione looked from her father to the flower, speechless.
"T-thank you, dad" She set the glass lid aside before going around the small table to embrace her father. He smiled down at her and patted her head.
"You’re welcome. Now, go have fun." She beamed up at him and nodded, scampering out of the chamber. Little did her father know she had gotten a hold of his journal and had every intention of reading it.... To help her discern what went on in her father's head... to help them grow closer together. At least, that is what she told herself.

Sadly, however, it turns out trying to read a journal people shouldn't know you have and that makes you VERY paranoid is REALLY hard during a village wide festival where everyone you know is trying to party. Fellyione found it nigh impossible, mainly due to many interruptions
Nancy Masoner approached Fellyione, whom was precariously perched on the rim of a fountain.
"Whatcha reading?" she asked; popping out of nowhere beside the scholar, who jumped and wobbled before NOT falling in the fountain.
"N-nothing!" Fellyione replied, blushing some and hiding the journal behind her back.
"Well, whatever..... but come on! We gotta have FUN!" Nancy grabbed Fel's wrists, tugging her to her feet.
"Fine...."
Fellyione had to chance to read the journal during the day, and the words, the secrets at her fingertips burned into her mind. Finally, as the festival and various activities died down, she had her chance. She snuck back up to the abbey, making her way into Albus' flower garden. Many years ago Albus planted the garden, and tended to it zealously as his own personal congregation. Then, one day, he just up and stopped, letting it grow wild and rampant right outside the abbey's walls. At least, that is what Jim said. Albus fervently denied it. Fel liked it for one reason; it gave her a place to hide when she needed to be alone. There was a small stone path that cut down the garden's heart, leading to a grove of trees grown together so thickly as to block out all light. She slipped in, settling in a familiar path of puffy moss, using a stored flint and steel to light a candle. She moved the candle close to her, casting light onto the journal's pages.
"Well, I've been curious as to Dad's thoughts... but let’s find out." She turned to the last unmarked page.

Tuesday, March 14th, 756


              Fellyione is fifteen years old today.
Fifteen years.
Had it been so long? Has my lie been this strong? How has my heart been able to endure, my, as some would say, greatest act also my vilest. What had I done? I should have tried harder, searched better. For all I know it wasn’t an accident, she wasn't alone... and I stole her out of self pity. But... She is my daughter, even if not by blood.



The grove was more silent for a moment, Fellyione forgetting to breath. However, she DID do so, and shrugged off what she read.. or tried too. "Well, t-thats, erm... Let's see another page..." Fel licked her lips nervously, starting to tremble as her father's words seeped into her mind. She turned to another page, checking the dates in the corners.... It looked like there was one a day, and based upon the first page, as far as twenty years ago. She turned to a page from, well, before she was born.

Friday, January 11th, 741


DAMN YOU!
To the deepest pits of your hell, damn you! You have no right! I've done EVERYTHING for you, GIVEN everything to you! All I knew, held dear! All forsaken and sacrificed in your name! Why!? Why, damnit!? You must be a monster, mighty Lord. You must be a monster to take them from me. First my sister, mother, father. Then my brother in your holy war, the beloved city of Sinac burning in your "Holy" name. What is wrong with you and your world!?

You.... you have no Right!
No right to take them from me!
Not Edith...... Not Juniper....
Not.... not my wife and daughter.


Fellyione froze, feeling her blood run cold.... She read it twice, thrice, she checked the dates; this WAS defiantly written before she was born. The journal did not lie, but s far as she knew, her father didn't HAVE another daughter. Her face slowly took on an almost happy expression, having no other mask to hide her pain behind "But.... I'm not dead...." A tear rolled down her cheek as she turned to a certain page with trembling fingers....... Today, fifteen years ago.  


Wednesday, March 14th, 741

I do not know what happened. I cannot explain this. As I sit here now, I'd say a miracle has befallen me. As I returned from the woods, fetching flowers for my wife and daughter's graves, I heard a babe's cry in the woods. I do not know when she got there, but it was spontaneous. I never strayed far from the path, and the time between when I crossed the point where I found her and the time between my return to that point could only have been ten minutes. Suddenly, right before I was able to see her due to a turn in the road, her cry split the air. The sound must have carried for miles, there was no way I could have missed it before. But what really unsettled me was that when I found her... she was swathed in a blanket, lying in the middle of the path. I spent some time looking around, searching for her parents. In my arms she calmed, being almost unnaturally optimistic and quiet for a child once I took hold of her. I cannot leave her alone, but I certainly cannot keep her with me here.
Tomorrow we head out for Tirsin. I hear the head of their abbey died, and none of them can assume the mantle. I've already sent a letter ahead of me, and they should not mind my having a child. No one will know my wife died months ago, and my infant daughter.
They will not know this girl is not mine.
However... Her name.... I think I'll follow my wife's wishes. If we had another girl, she wanted to name her after her favorite flower. I thought it was a beautiful name. Yes, I'll name her-


Fellyione did not have to read on to know the name is hers. She closed the journal, looking at it with deadened eyes and holding back the tears she felt growing in her chest. She sank onto the ground, curling up on her side and clutching the journal to her chest. Before long, her attempts failed and tears flowed. Her grief was so great that she didn't smell the smoke of burning thatch.