Longing

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"What is the first rule here?"

"To not be seen and heard!" the baby, now a child, said loudly as she knew the answer very well, but hung her head slightly as the minister gave her a harsh look that told her that she broke half of the rule. He then looked straight ahead as he led her up the stairs of the bell towers.

Good. And the second rule?"

"Never leave the cathedral." she muttered silently, not liking the rule very much but doesn't want to displease her master. As soon as they got to the bell towers, Finitevus opened a door towards the back and revealed a bright room where a bed was rested in one corner, a wooden table with two chair on another corner, along with a small divider for her to get dressed in another, while the last corner that was by a large wooden door that led out to the balconies of the church was empty. The child looked up at her master curiously as he stood by the doorway of the room.

"You may have whatever you like into that corner." he said before finally smiling at the child a bit as her eyes shined with gratitude before she looked at the corner and thought long and hard before finally turning to her master with a wide smile.

"An Art Studio!" she exclaimed. Finitevus blinked at the request and was about to tell the child that it would be impossible since such supplies were very expensive. But he sighed at her hopeful look and slightly nodded.

"I'll see what I can do."

The child squealed in delight before hugging him by the legs, making his smile grew slightly but frowned as the sound of trumpets along with the town cheering caught his attention. The child looked out to the wooden door that led to the balconies curiously before looking up at the minister.

"Master? What is that sound?" she asked. Finitevus made her release her grip and led her to the bed and set her down.

"It is nothing but a peasant festival. Filled with nothing but disgrace and sin to the lord, my child." he explained as he looked into her fearful eyes and caressed her elbow length hair. "Not to worry, my child. You will be safe here as long as you are in this cathedral."

The child nodded before seeing her master walk out the door and jumped out of bed.

"You're not staying here with me?" she asked sadly, but also feared the evilness her master had explained. The minister looked at the trembling child before looking away.

"I will be back, child. But so stay in this room and if you heard footsteps out the door, stay still and silent. Understand?"

The child nodded before whimpering after her master closed the door. She looked at the window where she heard the noises erupting from the ground then looked out the door to the balconies, but only sat on her bed and looked at the door to the bell tower, in waiting of her master.

**********************************************

It was almost dusk and her master had not returned. She looked out at the door to the balconies as the festivities were still continuing. Giving in to her curiosity, she walked out of the door and slowly walked around outside into the fresh air and peeked over the cemented railing, her eyes snapping to amazement. Villagers were dancing around a grand pile of wood where they will light the bonfire after sunset. The music played as loudly as they can over the crowd. Jesters, dancers, musicians, and many others that were dressed in ridiculous costumes for good laughs were dancing around the crowd as well.

Her eyes then landed on a chair that shows great wealth but recognizes the cart next to the chair. Her master had gone to the festival even when he told her that it was evil. Finitevus was talking to a middle aged man with pale skin and was wearing a general armor. The general nodded his head and rode off on his horse as he made his round to the village.

Confusion and abandonment had washed over the little girl before she slowly walked back to her room and closed the door. Oh, how she wished to be a part of the crowd. She had not seen any evil in the enjoyment of the villagers and yearned to be a part of it. But a sudden realization came to her head. If she asks her master, he might let her go out or he would deny it completely. Sighing lightly, she went to the window by her bed and lightly drew doodles in the dirt of the things she saw with her finger before she wrote a word or possibly a name since she had always been called "child".

Ivy

Holding On and Letting GoDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora