No Sin Too Great

Just a new story I've been working on. Take a peek, and see what you think!


Chapter 1 - Awakening

“Never does the human soul appear so strong and noble as when it forgoes revenge and dares to forgive injury.” – Edwin Chapin


“Cera, I think she’s waking up.”

The woman on the bed stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She groaned from the excessive amount of sunlight filtering in the room, forcing her to cover her eyes with her arm.

“Jaron, please close the curtains.”

One by one, the shades were closed, and with each one the light lessened until all that remained was the gentle glow from candles sitting in sconces on the walls. The woman moved her arm away slowly, allowing her eyes to get accustomed to the firelight. She found herself staring at a wide, wood-paneled ceiling held aloft by large wooden struts. As she turned her neck side-to-side to stretch her stiff muscles, she noticed beds surrounding her on either side. She counted seven, all covered in plain white sheets and empty of occupants.

To her left stood an older woman. Her brown hair was graying around her crown, and the lines on her face betrayed her years. She had a kind look in her soft blue eyes, but the look was also cautious, possibly of her patient. Slowly, the woman realized that she did not know this woman, and panic prompted her muscles to constrict and prepare her to run.

Calmly, the nurse put out her hands as a gesture of peace as she took a seat next to the woman. “Shh,” she cooed, taking the woman’s hand in hers, “we’re not here to hurt you. We have merely healed your injuries and provided a roof over your head. Do you remember anything?”

As the woman stroked her hand, she could feel a warming sensation run along her skin, calming her nerves and reducing her need to flee. She felt as though her body was so relaxed that she might fall back to sleep. Realizing that the woman had asked her a question, she shook her head once.

Far away, the sounds of a large door slamming and raised voices could be heard. A young man that she only now noticed came to the bedside and sat on the other side of her.

“Jaron, stay with her. I’ll see if I can persuade our guest to visit another day.”

Jaron nodded, and the woman left the bed and headed out a door on the far side of the room. He turned his focus back to the patient, patting her arm gently in reassurance.

“You’ve been asleep for some time,” he commented, more to himself rather than to her. “You must be hungry.”

Without a word from her, Jaron left her and walked to a table across the room. On the outside, the young man wore a darker honey-colored skin than she had never remembered seeing, like he was from somewhere exotic. The color looked even darker against his burgundy robes. His chestnut hair was worn about shoulder length, and was tied just above his neck in a small leather queue. She could hear something pouring, and the gathering of silverware. When he came back to her side, he was carrying a tray, and she could see a small gold sword around a chain on his neck. He didn’t take notice of her examination of him, but he did stop before he reached her, only to set the tray on the nearest bed.

He came up next to her, and reached out as if to give her a hug. This made her fear build again, and he must have seen it on her face.

“It’s all right, miss. I only mean to help you sit up so you can eat your stew. I will not hurt you.”

She scanned his face, seeking anything that would indicate a lie, but she did not sense any deception on his part. Instead, he wore the same expression as the woman that was there before. It seemed that he only wanted to assist her, so she allowed him to slip an arm around her shoulders and help her into a seated position. Before she could lean back, he fluffed the feathered pillow behind her. When she finally got comfortable against the bed’s headboard, Jaron was situating the tray over her lap.

She made a move to take the spoon, but instead, Jaron took it and the bowl, filled the spoon with stew, and put it to her lips. She wanted to say something in appreciation of his efforts, but was distracted by the flavor of the broth and the softness of the meat. Though she could distinguish between the flavors of the vegetables, it was the herbs that she couldn’t identify, and she was certain that is where most of the flavor came from. She ate three more hearty spoonfuls before Jaron allowed her to speak.

“What is this place?” she asked with a weak voice that hadn’t been used in weeks. Her throat was scratchy as though she had coughed too hard or too long, and reached for the cup of water sitting on her tray.

As she drank the cup down in two gulps, Jaron took it from her and went back to the table to fill it. “This is a monastery devoted to the Order of the Golden Blade.”

Though the name was unfamiliar, her surroundings were making more sense. She thought the room was lacking in anything excessive, and now she knew why. It also explained the necklace that he wore; it must be their form of talisman for channeling power. The woman picked up her bowl of stew, and vigorously engulfed its remains. She set the empty bowl back on the tray, and sipped on the second cup of water that Jaron handed her. She cleared her throat before speaking again.

“Are you a priest?”

Jaron laughed as he departed with the tray. “No, not yet. I am in training at the moment. But someday I hope to live up to my teacher’s standards.”

She continued to sit up in the bed, and quickly Jaron was back at her side, checking to see if she was comfortable. The young man seemed eager to help answer her questions. “I have not been here long. I was traveling through this particular country when the Great Calamity occurred, so I stayed around to help out the townspeople. The Order took me in as a gesture of thanks.

“But I don’t understand. Why are you asking about me? Do you not worry for yourself?”

The woman contemplated his question. “I do, but in my physical state, there is nothing I can do to improve my situation. You seem honest and kind and I do not feel threatened by you.”

“But,” he asked as he wiped his hands on his robes, “do you know what your situation is?”

Suddenly, the door at the end of the room burst open. A large man wearing black armor entered the room, followed closely by the woman that was with them before. As the man drew closer to the bed, she could see the look of menace on his face, feel his dark aura, and she could tell it was directed at her.

“Please, Darius, she has just arisen, and is not ready for visitors! You must leave now or I will send for the head priest!” she yelled as she grabbed at his arm.

The man shrugged the woman off, almost flinging her to the floor, as he made a move toward the resting woman in the bed. In a fit of panic, the woman found she could not back away from his oncoming hands. Instead, she slid off the side of the bed. Her body hit the floor with a quiet thud, and her hip and shoulder throbbed with pain from the hardness of the wooden surface. She tried to scramble away, but found her legs had gone unused for too long, and would not respond to her needs.

Before she could look up, the warrior had his hand around her throat and was lifting her slack body until she was eye-level with him. Then, he slammed her full-force against the wall, causing more pain as her head bounced off.

“Stop this at once!” yelled Jaron as he tried to tackle the hulking warrior. Unfortunately, he wasn’t tall enough to get his arms around the man’s neck, and simply slid down the smooth armor of his back.

The woman yelped as the warrior slammed her into the wall a second time, her head ricocheted hard enough to pop her neck, and she was forced to look into the man’s eyes. All she could see was hatred in his dark eyes, but she could not recall the man’s face or any reason for his contempt towards her.

“Please…” she whimpered as she felt something trickle down the side of her head and tasted blood at the back of her throat.

“Please?” he said harshly, spitting the syllables in her face. “Is that what our regent said before you murdered him? Is that what the children begged before they were caught in the fire’s scorching flames, you filthy half-breed?’

“Let her go, Darius,” the woman behind him warned, “or I’ll make you.”

Darius made no move to let the woman go, and as he pulled her from the wall to beat her against the surface one final time, he suddenly lost all function in his arm. He turned to see the priestess chanting as she gripped his arm tightly. His fingers slackened, and the woman dropped from his grasp.

“How dare you!” he yelled as he wheeled around and threw a fist at her face. But the punch was blocked by Jaron as he quickly intercepted the blow with his own face and was flung to the ground.

On the floor, the woman coughed and tried to catch her breath. No one made a move to assist her, and the priestess pleaded with the warrior.

“Darius, she has no memory of what happened! The woman has been asleep for weeks! She can not answer to crimes that she has no knowledge of committing!”

“No knowledge?!” he yelled as he shook out his arm, helping the feeling return to his joints and fingers. “Then let’s refresh her memory, shall we?”

Before the others could stop him, he reached for the woman again, this time seizing her by the shoulders and picking her up from the floor. Squeezing her tightly, the two of them moved to the southern wall where he held her against his chest and pulled back the heavy drapes.

The woman put a hand up to shield her eyes as the late afternoon sun cut through the darkness, causing her head to ache more. But the warrior ripped her hand away, and forced her closer to the window.

“Look there, half-breed, and cast your gaze on the destruction that you and your kind wreaked on our home.”

His hot breath against her ear made her cringe, but she did as he instructed, and focused her sight on the world outside. In the distance there were fields empty of livestock and crops. The ground was blackened, and as she looked further, she could see the burned-out husks of buildings. As far as she could see, there were only charred remains, wooden planks sticking out from the ground and stone walls blackened from a great fire. In the center of the destruction stood the remnants of a large stone structure, possibly a manor house. And when she squinted, she could see people moving in the distance, carrying pieces of wood and stone away, as if attempting to clean the mess.

As she put a hand to the glass, she whispered, “I don’t understand, I did this?”

He didn’t answer her immediately, but she could feel his abhorrence toward the destroyed landscape as he squeezed her to his chest harder.

“There was a great fire,” said the priestess as she approached their side. “It started in our regent’s manor, but it was an unnatural fire, moving at a speed none of us had seen in the past. Before anyone could react, the flames had spread to the neighboring homes. Fire ate through our storehouses that held food for the coming winter, and it destroyed many of the local businesses. People are now salvaging what they can, and those with nothing left have already departed to surrounding towns to find shelter for the winter.”

Darius pushed her closer to the window, and felt his hot breath against her bare neck again. “You were seen with a group of elves entering the regent’s home,” he claimed, in a low voice. “Not long after, everything exploded. People died. My soldiers’ families died because they were all housed near the manor house. My wife and son were burned alive as they ate their evening dinner. And yet, you were seen walking out of the flames, one lone survivor appearing like some damned bird rising from the ashes. Now, do you want to explain to me how you were the only one to survive?”

“You will remove your hands from our guest, Darius.”

The deep voice came from behind them, and all turned to see the head priest enter the room. He was a tall man with long gray hair and a well-groomed beard of the same color. He walked with a cane, but his limp was so slight that it could not be noticed underneath his golden yellow robes.

Darius immediately released the woman, but her legs were still shaky and she felt herself falling to the floor. Jaron was there, and caught her before she became friendly with the hard surface again. Gently, he scooped her up into his arms, and made his way around the large warrior to carry her to her bed. The priestess hurried past the warrior also to stand near the head priest.

“If you wish to retain our serves at a later date and time, I suggest you leave the premises now before you find yourself banned for the remainder of your lifetime,” said the priest as he rapped the cane against the floor.

Darius walked up to the priest in a direct challenge, but as he drew closer, he sidestepped the older gentleman, but not before bumping him with his armored shoulder in a sign of disrespect. “This is not finished, old man.”

The woman turned to watch the warrior leave the room and heard him slam the door. Together they could hear him stomp down the stairs and depart through the front door, leaving a trail of curses in his wake.

Jaron was covering the woman with her sheets when the priest came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I apologize,” he said as he reached out and took her hand. “Darius is rightfully angry with his circumstances, but a house of sanctuary is not a place to rectify his feelings, especially against one of my guests”

The head priest’s words touched her on some level, and suddenly she felt her cheeks awash with tears. The crying only led to her head hurting worse, but she couldn’t find it in herself to make the tears stop.

“Is it true?” she managed to say through her sobs and pain. “Did I cause that fire?”

The priestess was at her opposite side, dabbing at her face with a napkin. She winced when she saw the extent of damage that Darius had caused, and she delicately put her hands to each side of the woman’s head and started to chant. She felt the healing warmth again, and before long, the throb in her head lessened.

“Thank you, Cera,” the priest said before turning his attention back to the patient. “In a matter of speaking, yes, you were directly responsible for the tragedy that occurred here some weeks back. But you must not dwell on that now for it will not help you heal. In its own way, the tragedy affected you on some level for you have lost all that you are.”

With soft hands, Cera stroked her face clean of the blood that had leaked from her wounds, and then she slipped away from her side. “Priest Risyn, do you have any further need for my services? It is almost dinner time, and I want to make sure the children are cared for.”

The priest patted her on the arm. “No, dear, see to your chores. Jaron will stay behind and help our guest.”

The woman named Cera nodded and left the room, making sure to shut the door quietly behind her. Jaron slipped into her place on the bed, and took the woman’s hand in his. The gentleness in his touch made the woman calm again, but no less wary to the head priest’s words.

As she collected her thoughts, she said, “The warrior, he called me a half-breed.”

Risyn cringed and nodded in acknowledgment. “That is an unattractive term,” he said as he reached past her face to carefully stroke her ear, making sure to accentuate the pointed tip. “Though you are part human, I think what you are directly relates to why you came here with a clan of elves.”

She reached up with her right hand to touch her other ear, and found that it too was pointed at the end. As she pulled her hand away, she saw something at the edge of her sleeve, something wrong with her skin.

Before she could react, the priest took that hand, covering it with both of his. “When you were brought to me, you were unconscious, but other than blackened smudges of ash on your face, you had no injuries. During my inspection, I came across something extraordinary.”

Taking his hands away, he put them on her right sleeve and carefully tugged it upward. Each uncovered inch of skin revealed a pattern drawn onto her arm. On her forearm was an ink representation of a flame. The gold, orange, and red flames intermingled with one another as the intricate design appeared to lick its way up her arm and engulf it in its heat.

“These markings on your body explain what I saw at the manor house,” he said, looking at the design like an artist critiquing a painting. “This tattoo carries on up your right arm and all along the skin of your back. I must say, I’ve only met one other of your kind in my lifetime. It takes a special set of circumstances to bind yourself with an elemental as you have, my dear. Though, your power has not flared during your unconsciousness, so I wonder if your comrade is lying dormant within you, or if you have already exhausted its power and all that remains is its signature on your body. I am most curious…”

The woman looked to Jaron for an explanation, but sadly he only shrugged. Risyn smiled at the both of them. “Oh, I apologize, this is not something that we teach about here. From what I know of him, Jaron has no knowledge of elemental sorcery, but if he is going to assist in the training of a fire sorceress in the healing ways of our Order, I guess he should know what he’s getting into.”

This time, the both of them stared at Priest Risyn in confusion. Simultaneous questions of “I’m doing what?” and “I beg your pardon?” erupted around him, and he only laughed harder as they looked at him with complete bewilderment.

Priest Risyn set his cane between his legs and used it as leverage as he rose from the bed. “I’m sorry, I find myself getting ahead of my thoughts in my old age. It seems I process them quicker, and the final result simply erupts from my lips without giving them time to catch up.

“My dear,” he said as he turned to face her again. “As payment for our services, we will train you on how to heal the wounded with your spiritual power. You will live and work here until the time that I decide that your debt has been paid.

“In the mornings, you will train with Jaron and his teacher. After lunch, your afternoons will be spent with Jaron in the town assisting the others with the reconstruction. Your evenings will consist of prayer and meditation. I find that it is only fair for you to learn from the mistakes of your previous life by helping those from which you taken everything from.”

His statements were met with uncomfortable silence. As the woman could only stare at her destructive hands, Jaron leapt from the bed and approached the old priest. “Sir, I can’t take her into town. She’ll be nothing but a target!”

Jaron’s statement drew her attention to him. “Ja-ron, that is your name,” she said, accentuating each syllable of his simple name as she gazed at her would-be caretaker. “I am not afraid. There is nothing that can be taken from me that it appears I did not give up willingly by coming here.”

He snorted. “I’m not worried about you! They’ll kill me just for being with you!”

Priest Risyn clapped a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You came to us a young adventurer, did you not? Seeking the next great thrill?” he teased. “Jaron, the townspeople know you. They will not harm you, and the soldiers know not to harass anyone of this order lest they are denied services in the future.

“Look at our no-named patient,” he said, turning Jaron to stare at the woman in the bed. “She knows not who she is, but she is not afraid to correct her past actions by helping those whom she has erred. Your fears are unjustified. Let this be your lesson for the day.”

Priest Risyn turned to leave, but before he could go through the doorway, he stopped again. “Oh yes, we can’t let you leave here without a name, can we?” he laughed. “Getting ahead of myself again, I apologize….we will call you Phyra from now until the time comes that you remember the name you were born into. Is this acceptable to you?”

Jaron rolled his eyes at the obvious etymology of her new name, but the woman only nodded in acceptance. She then pulled the sleeve of her shift back down and rolled over in the bed, intent on sleeping the rest of her injuries and thoughts away.

“Tomorrow,” Risyn called out from the hallway, “tomorrow you will start your new life, Phyra. May the Goddess bless your sleep with peaceful dreams.”



That's it for now! Chapters 2 & 3 are already in the works. Not sure where this is going yet, but when I do, you'll be the second to know! Thank you for reading!