Welcome to the Advent Calendar Story Train, where you can read through 24 stories under the theme Surprise.
“My child.” The queen emerged from her sacred chamber. “I wish to speak with you.”
The servant refused to believe that the holiest mother of mothers wanted to speak with her in private. The living incarnation of God wanted an audience with a lowly Sister of the Melted Wax? She had successfully defended her Heavenly Mother from a band of heretics, but even so, she fought the infidels shoulder to shoulder with her sorority of warrior nuns.
Why would Queen Alvah wish to speak with her alone?
The Sister followed her master to her private chamber, a place forbidden to everyone but the mother. There were thousands of lit candles as far as the eye could see, all with strings of wax dripping from the edges. A lavish bed adorned with the finest silks sat in the middle of the room. Each corner had an alabaster post decorated with intricate holy scripture and religious iconography written in gold.
“My queen.” The Sister fell to her knees. “I do not belong here. It is forbidden.”
“Rise.” Queen Alvah lifted her hand as if elevating the Sister’s gentle neck. “My will supersedes all.”
The melted candles attached to the Sister’s shoulders weighed heavily, but years of carrying the burden had made her strong. Her white wimple covered her neck and ears and the veil which masked her eyes was marked with the symbol of Alvah surrounded by two burning candles. Her jewelry and golden sunburst head rest jingled as she rose to her feet, but she refused to look her creator in the eye.
“What do you desire of me?”
Queen Alvah, tall and regal turned away from her loyal servant. Her golden hair was secured tightly in a braided bun while her towering headdress nearly touched the ceiling.
“I have a confession.”
“I will find the head sister.”
“No,” Alvah’s voice filled the chamber. “I have chosen you.”
“Why,” the Sister said, embarrassed and ashamed. “I am but a lowly servant.”
Alvah turned around with an icy glare in her eyes. “Were you not the one who speared those who tried to do harm unto me?”
“Yes, in your name.”
“Of all my followers, disciples and apostles, you were the only one with the courage to stand by my side when the cowardly heretics of the Royal Guard descended upon us. Therefore, you have earned the right to know my divine truth.”
“My queen, the royal guard will strike again. They may barge through the door at any minute. Respectfully, can you confess to me after I’ve taken you to safety?”
“No, my child. The time for running has ended. The age of the Blood Plague is nigh. Thus, I share with you my three grievous sins.”
The Sister fought the urge to protest and kept her lips silent.
“The first sin is that my divine word is not . . . divine.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My name is not Alvah. It was Tirzah. I was not born of immaculate conception but in a barn with my mother and father.”
“No.” The Sister shook her head to cast aside these blasphemous words. “You are divine incarnate.”
“I was given the power to heal by a witch who lived in a forest near my village. I drank her blood under the full moon and became what I am today.”
“Stop this! You are my queen. I rebuke your words.”
Alvah’s voice boomed like thunder. “You cannot rebuke me!”
The Sister startled backwards as her mighty queen approached.
“The second sin was that I . . . I invited the prince to my chamber, knowing he was already claimed.”
“My queen!” she said breathlessly. “Your teachings expressly forbade us to lay with others.”
Alvah grimaced. “Yes, I know.”
“You—you—you preach lies. You said you were divine. You said you were chaste. None of it was true. Is this why the Royal Guard hunts you so?”
Alvah did not answer because The Sister already knew the truth. “The last grievous sin.”
The Sister covered her ears with her metal gauntlets inscribed with the words from the holiest mother. “I wish to hear no more.”
“I was the one who created the unholy monsters that plague our land.”
The Sister’s eyes slowly spread open. She removed her hands and stood tall, face-to-face with her former goddess. “The creatures that have eaten my sisters and devoured the villagers were your creation?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you do this? You are the divine protector.”
Alvah paused. “I had been deceived.”
The Sister gripped the haft of her metal spear and brought the tip down to face her former master. “You destroyed so many lives.”
“I did.”
“Why tell me this,” she spat in rage and hurt. “Why confess to me? Why do you punish me with the burden of knowledge.”
Alvah touched the Sister’s cheek and wiped away the tears with her delicate thumb. “Because you will one day end the cycle. Death is not the end; it is the beginning of the end.”
The Sister’s hand which held onto the spear suddenly froze. Her entire body was immobilized by some unseen force, black magic. She could do nothing as Queen Alvah circled around her with a wicked smile. The queen stood before the Sister and opened her mouth. Two fangs grew from her teeth and her eyes filled with the color of blood.
The Sister could only whimper as her holy savior plunged her teeth deep into her neck and pierced the supple flesh buried under layers of fabric. Queen Alvah feasted on her life, blood dripping from her chin. The Sister’s eyes grew heavy and languid. The royal guard led by Captain Gustav Raines burst through the chamber door and tackled the unholy queen to the floor.
The Sister of the Melted Wax closed her eyes as the words of Queen Alvah haunted her final thoughts.
“Death is not the end; it is the beginning of the end.”
You will rise again.
*Photo by Eduardo Hernández Soto: https://www.pexels.com/photo/gothic-nun-with-intricate-face-paint-and-halo-28545317/
Thank you for reading today’s story. The next one will be available to read on December 20th, titled “Under The Mistletoe“. The story will appear sometime tomorrow when the post goes live.
If you missed yesterday’s you can go and read it here.
