Dragon Riders

Chapter Three: Part One Myra

Chapter 3

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Myra

Isle of the Blessed: The Pits

I make sure that I dress in my filthy robes and smudged bells before shuffling out of the make-shift tent. It has been six weeks and four days since I have been sent down to the pits.

I have still not received word of what job I should do as penance, or when I will return to the temple. According to the others here, this is not unusual. Some have waited for months, just to be told to return. Others made the mistake of asking, and were told to live for years down here as punishment for asking, and as their penance.

Every passing day is another day of reciting prayers, and trying to keep track of time.

Some women have been down here for so long that they no longer know how old they are.

Some have been down here for such a long time that their hair has turned gray: signaling the end of their usefulness to the temple.

Especially since many of the women had been Temple Mothers. Temple Mothers have one job; to supply this temple and other temples with temple Children, which will one day take oaths to serve.

All of them have one thing in common though: they all have jobs.

Some kind of labor that gives them something to do daily: a daily physical punishment for their actions. Some jobs are easy: make sure the sulfur water going to the bathing stations is clean. It just involves replacing a screen in the water to sift out any chunks.

The other jobs though, are demanding.

Cruel even.

The girls with the slashes on their brows have the hardest jobs. They carry rocks on their backs from one end of the pit to the next. There is no reason for this. As long as they can build a wall of loose, smoldering rocks, that is what they shall do.

Those girls have stolen from the temple: mostly in wealth.

One older woman, however, stole girls from the temple. She smuggled them from the Blessed Isle to Gods knows where. She said she was saving them and was irritated by my silent response.

She was branded and had her thumbs cut off in punishment.

She along with the others resent me for not having a job. But they will also not accept my help either.

I asked one of the eldest in the pit why and she simply responded

"Because she will know."

"The High Priestess?"

The old woman simply nodded in response.

"How would she know? There are no others here but us."

Instead of responding the old woman smiled slightly, and pointedly looked at a threesome of girls standing on the other side of the fire.

"Spies," I said in quiet understanding.

"They were promised reduced sentences if they only told her what they knew."

I blinked in response to the older woman's cackle as she finished her sentence. From what I gathered not many left this place, so for the High Priestess to promise a reduction was.... spiteful.

That conversation happened during my 12th day here, and it was also the last time I had spoken to anyone.

I was being careful.

The more I looked around me, the more I saw cliques of girls working together to gather intel.

It seems as though the High Priestess made the same promise to many. In order to not give the girls anything to report, I stayed to myself, stayed quiet -and most importantly-, stayed on a schedule.

I continued my regular prayer times and made sure to wear all of my robes and bells at all times. If they are to report on something I do, let them report me being pious.

Usually I was never interrupted during my meditation time, but today was different.

As my bare feet leave my tent I notice all of the women were wearing their robes.

And all of them were gathered in a circle near the door.

The woman who had told me to

"Get out of that Gods-forsaken tent" had already shuffled back into the crowd.

I pushed my way through the crowd, curious to see what was happening.

Someone was addressing the crowd, and telling them to quiet themselves and listen.

I elbowed my way past the last Temple Maiden and made sure my face was still as I felt surprise quickly course through me.

It was the old Temple Mother from just outside the door, and she had news. What could possibly be so important, that she was allowed to open the door just to speak to us?

Usually the assignments or any news came from a chute that carried a piece of parchment. This in itself is very rare.

Something was either very wrong or very right.

"QUIET!"

The old Temple Mother boomed.

We all stilled instantly at her tone, not used to loud voices down here. Or maybe we are all just surprised at how loud she is.

"Much better thank you. I bring news and orders directly from the High Priestess herself."

Looks were exchanged but none of us let a whisper loose, not knowing what the Temple Mother's next reaction would be.

"The Northern Kingdom has paid our fee, and as such we will be sending all those skilled in the art of healing to them. Their rebellion is drawing to a close and their Queen has sent for us, saying there will be a final and bloody battle."

More looks are exchanged but this time breaths are being held. Many of the women here were skilled in the art of healing. Including myself.

"Within two days you will be leaving the pits, and within a fortnight you will be leaving the Isle."

Screams of joy erupted all around me as they rejoiced at the news.

They would leave here and the Blessed Isle.

I stayed silent.

I was not convinced that this was good news. The Westerners were stubborn, and as such there are no temples anywhere on the continent. Least of all in the north.

The people there either stuck to traditions or died defending them, but if they were requesting healers now, that probably means that the expected battle would be much worse than anyone could imagine.

Especially since the rebellion had been going on for the last two years.

Lost in my thoughts, I almost missed the Temple Mother calling me over.

"Praised be the Blessed" I said in greeting.

She repeats the phrase before placing a withered hand on my shoulder.

"You will not be going, Priestess Myra."

I flinch.