Chapter 57 - 5-8
It is a one-day journey by carriage from Malfa City to the Euryas Convent for Girls.
The carriage passes through the city.
It passes through villages.
It races through dark forests.
As the sun began to dip, the carriage emerged into a vast expanse of rolling hills.
Amidst the chain of hills, a chalk-white structure came into view. A divine sanctuary embracing nearly a hundred maidens, enclosed by stone walls like a white ribbon. The slender bell tower, likened to a wild lily of the fields, seemed to melt into the overcast sky, its outline blurring. Only the slate-covered roof remained starkly black, tightening the surrounding scenery and evoking a solemn atmosphere.
The carriage followed the ruts carved into the wilderness. The horses, blowing white breaths, kicked up the muddy ground with their hooves, and upon finally cresting the hill, let out a loud neigh.
Lucy Alish stepped down from the carriage.
First, she expressed her gratitude to the male driver.
Afterward, she exchanged an embrace with the woman who had brought her this far.
"Please stay in good health. That is more important than anything."
It was Mrs. Mcgillis, Krisina's mother.
The lady had recently begun working at the detached palace as a wet nurse for the Queen's child. Since she was on good terms with Lucy's mother, Queen Dravia, she had volunteered to see Lucy off. The church permitted only one person to accompany a girl to the gates.
"Once you pass through those gates, you bid farewell to the secular world."
"Yes. It is a farewell, Madam."
"This is as far as I can accompany you, Princess."
"Please, call me Lucy."
"No. No. You will surely return to the royal palace, Princess."
—I must be careful to ensure that does not happen.
Lucy whispered within her heart.
The lady bowed deeply and returned to the carriage. The driver handled the reins.
Lucy waved to the carriage as it began its return journey.
It was a lonely feeling. Every girl entering the convent likely abandoned the secular world like this, left behind alone. Wondering whether they were abandoning the secular world, or if they had been abandoned by it.
Descending the hill to the east lay the convent's manor. The well-ordered irrigation reflected white, looking like a spread spiderweb. Beyond that lay a black forest. The cooking smoke of Fibril Village was visible. Lucy thought she could see the majesty of Malfa Castle beyond that, but it was obscured by haze. The sky was a single shade of gray, flat and featureless. It was the sky of twilight. The air was growing chilly.
Since the main gates were closed, Lucy entered through the service entrance.
Upon entering the grounds, she smelled compost and the scent of women's bodies.
There were no human voices, no sign of people. And yet, the smell of compost and the scent of bodies mixed densely, as if rising from the countless footprints left in the mud.
Beyond the standing trees, the chalk-white walls appeared. To the left was the convent's attached chapel, and the convent entrance was beside it.
Slipping through the trees, she found an old woman.
She wore a black cloak and a black hood. Her wrinkled face was also darkened. Only one cloudy eye was white, like a fish's belly.
"What are you? You."
"I am Lucy."
The old woman straightened her back and stared intently at Lucy's face. "You're a fool. You have a face that could live in luxury in the secular world."
"I am sorry for being late."
"You were late. I'm Archie. If you're going to live here, remember my name. Come along."
Old Archie walked toward the entrance beside the chapel.
"Knock the mud off."
Saying this, she entered the building without giving Lucy another glance.
Lucy knocked the mud off her shoes and followed.
It was a magnificent nave. The ceiling was high and dim. The weak light extending across the floor in the shape of the window panes and the shadowed areas slid alternately across Lucy's cheeks. Carved pillars appeared and disappeared with regularity, seeming to invite a sense of calm and drowsiness. Only the continuous buttresses protruding to support the semicircular ceiling guided Lucy forward. It felt as though the scent of women's bodies had permeated even these white walls and ceilings.
"Don't make noise with your footsteps."
Old Archie's gait was quiet, as if fearing something.
They reached the courtyard. Chairs were prepared in the cloister surrounding the courtyard. Lucy was ordered to sit and wait. The old woman vanished for a moment and returned carrying a tub filled with water and a razor.
"I'm taking your hair."
The old woman lifted Lucy's hair, checked the length, and then began to cut it deliberately. With every lock she cut, she aligned and bundled the hair more carefully than she handled Lucy's head, placing it into a box. She spoke happily.
"With this hair, the ladies of Malfa City would pay gold coins."
The hair quickly grew short. Monks shave their heads, but nuns have their hair cut to the length of an index finger. Shaving a woman's head is not permitted.
"All done. Stand up."
As Lucy brushed the hair from her clothes, the old woman sighed.
"You really are a beauty. That's enough, follow me."
Old Archie led her to a certain door.
"Now, enter," she said, opening the door.
Lucy bowed her head slightly and entered the room. There was a tall, narrow window inside, so it was not dark.
Clothing boxes were stored in lined shelves. It appeared to be a dressing room.
"Take off your clothes. Shoes and socks too. Get naked."
Lucy obeyed briskly. She removed her cloak, took off her dark brown bodice and skirt, and folded them quickly. She removed her undergarments, long stockings, and shoes, exposing her white naked body. Her skin turned red, not from shame, but from the cold. Lucy hugged her body with her own arms and waited for the old woman's instructions.
Old Archie was examining the things Lucy had taken off. She held the cloak up to the window to let light through, then tossed it into a basket with a satisfied look. She widened her eyes upon examining the undergarments.
"I've never touched cloth like this. What are you? A princess?"
Without waiting for an answer, she tossed the undergarments into another basket. She examined the tailoring of the bodice and skirt meticulously. She brought the seams close to her eyes, smelled them, and finally shook her head.
"Between the hair and the clothes, you're a walking mountain of treasure."
"Is that so. Um..."
"What are you doing?" The old woman looked up at Lucy. "Hurry up and get dressed. Undergarments are on that shelf. You may take two sets. The habit is over there. Two sets. One cloak. Shoes, one pair. These are loans, so you must take care of them. If they get dirty, wash them yourself."
Both the undergarments and the habits were someone's hand-me-downs. They were not brand new.
Lucy dressed quickly.
"You're ready. I'll take you to the Headmaster." Old Archie lowered her voice. "Listen, absolutely no talking back."
The Headmaster looked to be over sixty.
The hair was trimmed to the length of a thumb, and the standing hairline looked like frost.
Beneath the autumn frost was a stern face. The eyes were large. The distance from the inner to the outer corner was thick. The double eyelids sagged heavily, and several wrinkles radiated from the swelling beneath the eyes.
Sitting in a chair, resting both elbows on the desk and chin on clasped hands, the Headmaster watched Lucy.
There was no smile on the lips, only an aura that could be taken as either dignity or displeasure.
The Headmaster wore the same white habit as Lucy, and a black cloak that covered down to the waist.
The room was not large. There was a fireplace to the left and a shelf for documents and books to the right.
Lucy stood rigidly at attention, holding the distributed change of clothes under her arm.
The Headmaster lowered the clasped hands to the desk and straightened the back.
"Welcome, Luchentin Alish."
It was a deep, solemn voice.
With this voice and presence, planting or removing guilt would likely be effortless.
"I am Headmaster Rene Dagsaw. I have received a letter from the King of Siddim regarding you. I have also received an offer of a donation. However, it must be made clear. Before the Tenshu alone, secular status holds no meaning; all are equal. You and I are in the same position. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"Yes."
"Here, you are not a princess, and we will not treat you as we would a guest of honor. Did you reveal your status to Archie?"
Lucy shook her head.
"By what name did you introduce yourself?"
"As Lucy."
"Very good. You are to reveal your former status to no one. Failure to comply will result in expulsion. Can you manage this?"
"Yes."
"Good. Next, let us confirm the purpose of this place. What do you think it is? Answer."
"I believe the purpose is to undergo training and become a nun," Lucy said.
"Correct. But that is not the core."
The Headmaster's pupils were pitch black, as if forgetting old age.
"Girls who aspire to be nuns are called novices here. However, becoming a nun from a novice is merely a formality."
The corner of the Headmaster's mouth loosened slightly. That slight expression vanished like a phantom.
"The purpose here is to know oneself. Lucy, from now on, you will be made to realize who you are until you are sick of it. Reality will be slammed into you. Your raw self, you as you are, will be tested. The clothes you wore will likely be turned into money by Archie by tomorrow. Here, all ownership is forbidden. You are penniless. For the rest of your life, you will not be permitted to possess things. Everything you might have been entitled to will belong to others. And you will become a fragile being who can survive only through your own labor and the charity of others. Is that clear?"
Lucy nodded.
"Furthermore, having emotions is forbidden here. The only thing you are permitted to feel is joy. And that is limited only to the joy of service and the joy of study. The joy of faith. You must not get angry, nor must you cry. Any emotion not based on faith holds no value here. Do you understand?"
Lucy nodded.
"Good. There is no freedom of thought either. We do not permit you to think as you please. You shall think only of that which we have guided. Can you do this?"
"I will strive to."
"A good answer. Strive then. Sexual desire, desire for food, and desire for sleep are denied here. Should such things manifest, we shall deal with them immediately. Do you understand the meaning?"
"It means expulsion."
"Exactly. Wake up is at three in the morning. Fasting days are Fridays. The physical body is the only thing the Tenshu has given you. You must not leave it to the freedom of others, nor are you permitted to do as you please with it. How is that?"
"I understand."
"Very well. I shall give you some detailed warnings."
You are a first-year. First-years must not speak with upperclassmen, such as second-years or third-years.
"This is a strict rule. Ensure you follow it."
"Yes."
In the convent, you may only speak in designated areas. Speaking outdoors is forbidden. Even inside the buildings, private conversation in public areas such as corridors is forbidden. However, the dining hall is an exception. Speak in low voices.
Do not be noisy in the cells. Causing trouble will result in expulsion.
"Here at Euryas, novices form groups. Are you aware of this?"
"No."
"Then receive an explanation from your cellmate. Think carefully if you join a group. If you leave a group, do so properly. Joining a group is not mandatory. You may remain without belonging to any group. However, you must vote in the Representative election held in winter. You should ask your cellmate about those matters as well. The one who will be your roommate is..."
The Headmaster finally dropped her gaze to the documents on the desk.
"Sherine. A child from the Maxil Order of Nuns. Do you have any questions?"
"No."
"Then my talk is finished. Archie!"
Lucy looked back.
The door to the Headmaster's office opened, and Old Archie peeked her face in.
"Take Lucy to the first-year cells."
The cells were in a long building located immediately behind the convent, consisting of three blocks.
The outer walls were mud-plastered, and the roofs were shingled. Like the convent, the windows were fitted with glass.
The furthest one seemed to be the first-year dormitory.
Outside, it was already the hour of twilight.
Old Archie's pace was brisk. Following the old woman, Lucy heard voices before they reached the entrance. They were the chirping voices of girls.
When the old woman opened the door, the volume of the voices doubled.
Then, four novices in the corridor all fell silent at once and looked at Lucy. Lucy gave a slight bow. Some returned a reserved smile, while others looked back as if appraising her.
"Old Archie."
A particularly striking, tall novice spoke. It was a low voice, devoid of girlishness. Her short hair was a burning orange, and perhaps the sleeves were too short for her long arms, as they were rolled up.
"I'll give you some pocket money, so bring a man over once in a while."
"Shut it, Lyudmila." The old woman turned left in the corridor. "Don't mind her."
The girls burst into laughter.
"You're in Room Nine."
The doors were lined up crampedly at fixed intervals. Some doors were wide open, others were closed. From every door came the sound of buzzing voices and presence. It was filled with a damp, heavy, yet fresh and quiet vitality.
"Keep it clean. Cleaning the corridor is on a rotation."
Lucy watched the back of the old woman as she departed, leaving behind a strange, wheezing sigh.
The tall novice with orange hair was still in the corridor. She was staring at Lucy undisguisedly.
Just as Lucy was about to knock, the door opened abruptly.
"Ah, hello. Nice to meet you."
A girl poked her head out.
Short brown hair clung to her forehead and cheeks, framing her outline. Green eyes, a cute nose like a baby lifting its head, and a small mouth were contained within that frame.
She was a girl shorter than Lucy. For a moment, she stared at Lucy's face.
"Ah, sorry. Please, come in."
"Thank you very much, what a nice room..."
Stepping into the room, Lucy trailed off.
Rather than a room, "cell" was certainly more appropriate. It was a narrow space. There was one set of bunk beds, and by the window were a desk, a candlestick, and two chairs.
"If we bump into each other, we might get stuck."
Lucy spoke, seeing that there seemed to be no gap to pass one another.
The brown-haired girl fidgeted.
"I'm sorry, I have no complaints about the room. I'm Lucy."
"I'm Sherine. Everyone calls me Sheri."
The girl who called herself Sheri looked down, avoiding eye contact.
At the time, Lucy thought nothing of it. She sat on the bunk bed as a matter of course. She unconsciously waited for Sheri to sit beside her.
However, seeing Sheri remaining standing in a bashful manner, Lucy snapped out of it.
"I'm sorry, I—"
She hurriedly stood up from the bed.
—This is a novice.
The real ones are this modest.
"No, please. Please sit," Sheri said, blushing.
"No, no, we are to live together from now on. I shall learn from you, Sheri, so as not to cause you any discomfort with my every movement."
Sheri blinked two or three times with a puzzled look.
"You are the daughter of a noble. No, asking a novice's background would be breaking an implicit rule, so please do not answer." Sheri gave a weak smile. "It's just that this is my first time speaking with someone of high status. I've become awkward."
Within Sheri's timid expression, Lucy perceived purity.
"Sheri, let's sit."
Prompting her, the two of them sat on the bunk bed.
For example, even a princess who should be protected from all danger and spoiled could not become like Sheri. One gets rubbed by people, blends in with people, and becomes accustomed to people. While Lucy had been laughing loudly, teasing someone or being teased, what had Sheri been doing? She had been facing God in solitude. They looked to be about the same age, but this difference was great.
—How admirable.
Sheri's shyness was proof of her innocence. Lucy was impressed.
"Headmaster Dagsaw told me. I heard you came from the Maxil Order of Nuns."
"Yes."
"I wish to acquire a piety like yours. Please guide me in various ways."
"I'm just a coward. I don't know if there's anything I can teach."
"For example, the Headmaster told me to learn about the groups from Sheri."
"Ah, if it's that," Sheri said. "It's not difficult. When you were children, you played together with those you were close with, right? Becoming friends, leaving others out—that's what we do here. In short—"
Groups, it seemed, were companions who acted together.
The maidens of Euryas formed these groups to deepen bonds that lasted a lifetime.
One of the main purposes of a group was mutual aid.
For example, regarding laundry, rather than everyone rushing to the washing area, it was more efficient to decide on a person in charge and entrust the laundry for the entire group to one person. The same applied to cleaning and farm work. With a group, one could pursue organization and efficiency through division of roles. Help could be expected in emergencies, and emotional comfort could be obtained. It was all positive.
This was the great purpose of groups in Euryas. For mutual aid, they united based on brotherly love to survive every day, which was by no means easy.
There was another purpose.
The Representative election.
Groups had an aspect of securing votes for the Representative election in which novices voted.
Increasing the number of personnel in a group directly led to increasing the number of votes. Because of this, groups apparently clashed and fought over novices.
Within the rigid church organization, the power of the title "Representative" was absolute. If one could become a Representative, future prosperity was as good as promised. To borrow Sheri's words, it was "stronger than blood or money." In other words, it was a position beyond the reach of donations or family lineage.
All novices aimed for the position of Representative, and if they could not become one, they aimed to be a Representative's close aide. If that was also impossible, they tried at least to be in the same group as the Representative. In particular, the Representative of the prestigious Euryas was said to possess a brilliantly shining power.
Lucy simply found it interesting.
"What about Sheri? What are you doing?"
The cellmate novice looked a bit uncomfortable. "I... haven't been invited by anyone."
"Can you not join a group unless you are invited?"
"No. I think if you ask to be let in, you wouldn't be refused. But you know, it's not necessarily a good thing to just join a strong group. If you join a strong group and can't play an active role, you'll just spend these three years doing menial work and that'll be the end of it. There's a way of thinking that it's better for the future to join a weak group, play an active role, get involved in the Representative election, and make a name for yourself... but, it's awkward to say this, but I'm not really the type who can play an active role."
It had already grown dark outside. For that day, they decided to go to bed.
Lying on the upper bunk, Lucy remembered things from two days ago. Two days ago, Lucy had spoken with the Queen of this country at the Sigihilt Palace in Malfa City—the detached palace.
"The engagement was broken because of the fiancé's wickedness," Queen Yumeria had said, drifting into Lucy's room and beginning to speak of such things. "You're going to a convent, right? Do you think someone will praise you for that?"
The Queen took a posture that was halfway reclining on Lucy's bed.
At the time, Lucy had been reading a book on theology on a long chair by the window. She closed the book.
"Going to a convent after an engagement is broken is consistent. Father also agreed."
"No. Inwardly, he is opposed."
"Stepmother. I am simply late to the game."
Lucy said it was about time she secured her own place.
"I had the intention that some exciting, extraordinary event was waiting for me in my life. But it doesn't happen. Such things. Time just flows uselessly from yesterday to tomorrow. If that's the case, I must start something immediately. Something steady and fruitful."
"You've become a boring woman," Queen Yumeria's irritation came through.
"Having become this way, I understand well. Your Majesty is an exceptional person," Lucy said. "It seems I was, in the end, an ordinary woman."
"As a mother," the stepmother said brazenly. "It's a pity I couldn't teach you. Lucy, the women of the royal palace are by no means powerless."
"Is that so?"
"Listen. Smiling at men is not our job. Nor is it to carry the result in our bellies. We have words. We can speak. No, perhaps even that isn't necessary. Do you know Madame Narik?"
"Yes." Madame Narik was a woman who could not speak.
"She gives far more witty answers through writing than the average woman. That's why no one teases her carelessly. Despite how she looks, she's a caustic woman. Her depths are rotten with malice."
"Did you have a painful experience?"
"I returned it a hundredfold, though."
"I don't quite understand. Are you saying I shouldn't lose a verbal argument?"
"No, I'm talking about the nature of humans."
"Perhaps you are talking about sonnets or art?"
"Those things are delusions. Since I'm saying it, there's no mistake. It's not that." Yumeria sat up and turned her face toward Lucy. "Humans, you see, can be handled however one wishes with just a word. Not just others, but one can even change oneself. Listen. We can say what we think exactly as it is, but there are very few women in this world who can do that. Truly, only a handful."
"...Is that so?"
"Yes. That is the nature of this position. To be at the top of this country and say what one wants to say. Do you understand?"
"I don't. Are you telling me to give a speech?"
"There is no need to be eloquent. It's almost better not to be talkative. It's enough if you can say the appropriate word at the appropriate time. You have the talent. What do you want to do by going to a convent?"
"And Your Majesty. What exactly is it that you desire?"
"This isn't about me. It's about what you want to do."
"I do not know what I want to do. Therefore, I shall think about it for a little while at the convent."
"Do as you please. It's not as if I particularly want to hold you back."
Seeing that the conversation had ended, Lucy opened her book.
"Before you depart, meet with Laicanel Thora."
"No. I have no words to give. If you feel pity, please save her yourself."
"You know, I've never hesitated to pick up what others have thrown away."
"Is that so." Although she didn't understand the meaning, Lucy answered. "That is better than not hesitating to throw away."
"That is a word." The sound of her stepmother's breath, as if she had chuckled, reached her ears. "The convent is a nest of ill-natured women, so be careful."
When she looked up, the Queen was leaving the room.
—Words.
The final conversation with the Queen remained strangely in Lucy's head.
Sheri had likely performed the greatest duty of a novice, prayer, too seriously.
Precisely because she was earnest, she was not accustomed to people. Lucy thought that for such a saint, the system of groups, where the greasy parts of human relationships would likely surface, was perhaps too cruel.
It was pitiful to be forced into a disadvantage because of earnestness.
Fortunately, however, Lucy was out of touch with the world. She had managed to deal with others to some extent using words.
"Sheri, are you awake?"
"Yeah."
"If I form a group, would you help me?"
From the lower bunk, she heard the sound of a caught breath. "If I'm good enough, I'd be happy... I'd be happy to be let in, Lucy."
"Then, let us raise the flag of a modest group of just the two of us. To help each other and spend our time here."
"I'm so happy. The Lucy Group, then."
"I'm glad you're happy. Good night, Sheri."
"Yes, good night, Group Leader."