Post by Mizuki Kiyoura on Jan 15, 2010 5:09:42 GMT -5
For those of you who have ever been inside a church, you will always notice the temperature change immediately, which means that inside its normally about 3 degrees colder then it is outside, which really never makes any sense, but you get used to it.
It was dark, the sun having long set itself behind the horizon, and all hints of its sunset radiance too had vanished, consumed by darkness and cloud and smog and the shadows of the night.
Candles, tall, long and white, glowed softly on the outside the small chapel, four of them one on each corner, somehow shielded from the wild winds which now uselessly threatened to snuff out their existences. The candles inside were small, laid out in alcoves and on chairs and upon the alter in an artful display of flickering light, torches against the darkness. It was here that she felt most safe, not at home, but safe among all things, and safety was one luxury she didn't always have.
It was part of her Duty, once a week, every week, she was required to be here, a duty, an honor, once a week, every week she knelt on these same stones. Not that she didn't mind, not at all, it was just ... oh it was just one evening, and she didn't do much anyway, so it was no big a deal.
The soft, sand colored stones were worn through the continuous footsteps upon them, this chapel had been here before Hatsu Itonami, and would probably be here long after, it was a solid construction after all and hadn't fallen down yet, the candles flickered slightly as a crack somewhere let in a faint breeze, scattering the fires for a moment, she paused for a moment, then knelt on the stones before the altar, murmuring her apologies, then she rose and retrieved her blade from amongst her things, then she approached the Altar itself, climing the three short steps up to its glory.
The Altar itself was stone, a giant block of dark, grey granite carved with intricate designs and shapes and patterns which seems to defy understanding, it was almost hypnotic to stare at in a way. Taking Alastor in both hands, she placed both sword and sheath on the Altar itself with great reverence, admiring the design on the blade one last time before she returned down the step and knelt again in the same position she had been, feeling a slight tug on her consciousness, the blade was technically no longer her own anymore, not until she was finished tonight.
Slowly, she murmured to herself the prayer she had been taught and changed, each one was unique among the Sisters, each one would teach theirs to the next generation, then they would be allowed t make ... alteration to it, making it personal, however hers was not altered in any way, it was a copy, to do so was an act of respect towards ones Elders and Teachers, depending on who you copied, she had copied the Mother Superior herself.
She bowed her head and closed her eyes as she began to, at first murmur, but then it became almost like a chant.
"Oh Holy Mother,
Who watches from Heave
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy Will be done,
On Earth as it is in Heaven
Give us this day our respite
And forgive me my trespasses,
As I forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead me not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thou art the Guide,
the Savior, and the Healer,
for ever and ever."
She paused for a moment, letting the last echo of those words sacred to her and her alone vanishing into nether, before uttering the last word in her heart, before letting in out slowly, opening her eyes to stare at Alastor on the Altar, missing its presence of security.
"Amen"
All was quiet now, she could even here the flickering of the candle and she watched curiously as a single bead of melted wax slid down the side, to be caught by the small wooden dish beneath it. Harmonious silence, she closed her eyes again, retreating deep inside herself, without Alastor, which she wore constantly, she felt a little ... naked I suppose you could say, it was like loosing a thumb, the sword had almost become part of her physical being, almost. Her robes didn't feel the same without that slight weight which the sword seemed to give them, and speaking of robes.
She carefully began to loose the front of her robes, this was the next part of the ritual, the much more sacred part then just a simple prayer.
It was dark, the sun having long set itself behind the horizon, and all hints of its sunset radiance too had vanished, consumed by darkness and cloud and smog and the shadows of the night.
Candles, tall, long and white, glowed softly on the outside the small chapel, four of them one on each corner, somehow shielded from the wild winds which now uselessly threatened to snuff out their existences. The candles inside were small, laid out in alcoves and on chairs and upon the alter in an artful display of flickering light, torches against the darkness. It was here that she felt most safe, not at home, but safe among all things, and safety was one luxury she didn't always have.
It was part of her Duty, once a week, every week, she was required to be here, a duty, an honor, once a week, every week she knelt on these same stones. Not that she didn't mind, not at all, it was just ... oh it was just one evening, and she didn't do much anyway, so it was no big a deal.
The soft, sand colored stones were worn through the continuous footsteps upon them, this chapel had been here before Hatsu Itonami, and would probably be here long after, it was a solid construction after all and hadn't fallen down yet, the candles flickered slightly as a crack somewhere let in a faint breeze, scattering the fires for a moment, she paused for a moment, then knelt on the stones before the altar, murmuring her apologies, then she rose and retrieved her blade from amongst her things, then she approached the Altar itself, climing the three short steps up to its glory.
The Altar itself was stone, a giant block of dark, grey granite carved with intricate designs and shapes and patterns which seems to defy understanding, it was almost hypnotic to stare at in a way. Taking Alastor in both hands, she placed both sword and sheath on the Altar itself with great reverence, admiring the design on the blade one last time before she returned down the step and knelt again in the same position she had been, feeling a slight tug on her consciousness, the blade was technically no longer her own anymore, not until she was finished tonight.
Slowly, she murmured to herself the prayer she had been taught and changed, each one was unique among the Sisters, each one would teach theirs to the next generation, then they would be allowed t make ... alteration to it, making it personal, however hers was not altered in any way, it was a copy, to do so was an act of respect towards ones Elders and Teachers, depending on who you copied, she had copied the Mother Superior herself.
She bowed her head and closed her eyes as she began to, at first murmur, but then it became almost like a chant.
"Oh Holy Mother,
Who watches from Heave
Hallowed be thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy Will be done,
On Earth as it is in Heaven
Give us this day our respite
And forgive me my trespasses,
As I forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead me not into temptation,
But deliver us from evil.
For thou art the Guide,
the Savior, and the Healer,
for ever and ever."
She paused for a moment, letting the last echo of those words sacred to her and her alone vanishing into nether, before uttering the last word in her heart, before letting in out slowly, opening her eyes to stare at Alastor on the Altar, missing its presence of security.
"Amen"
All was quiet now, she could even here the flickering of the candle and she watched curiously as a single bead of melted wax slid down the side, to be caught by the small wooden dish beneath it. Harmonious silence, she closed her eyes again, retreating deep inside herself, without Alastor, which she wore constantly, she felt a little ... naked I suppose you could say, it was like loosing a thumb, the sword had almost become part of her physical being, almost. Her robes didn't feel the same without that slight weight which the sword seemed to give them, and speaking of robes.
She carefully began to loose the front of her robes, this was the next part of the ritual, the much more sacred part then just a simple prayer.
