(1310-12-30) Invisible Bindings
Summary: After having been returned to the salon, Lois nó Coquelicot ponders her recent experiences.
RL Date: 09/02/2019
Related: Shortest Day Disappearances

Room of Contemplation — Le Coquelicot

Godly beauty, a wide, tall sacral chamber in muted tones of beige tile playing along the floors and walls, punctuated with roundels of burgeoning red marble and striated with an octastyle collonade of fat, serene columns thrusting powerfully to the ceiling, black marble veined with streaks of red and sparkling with flakes of gold polished to the surface. In the celing, four round panels of pearlescent material allow daylight in through the mottled gold-tan of the pearly windows, each painted with symbols of serenity and contemplation. In between the columns, along the three walls of the building's wide northern wing, narrow-slit windows are covered with billowing red curtains which can be drawn back to let in more light or to help regulate the temperature inside a room which tends toward retaining heat even in the chill of winter.

The space is truly massive and can be adapted to many and various high functions; on a day-to-day basis there are likely to be adepts practicing graceful yoga poses on intricately woven mats, a novice at each corner of the room, striking resonant chimes in harmony with one another to pace the breathing of those in meditation, a healthy frolic of youth in and around the wide columns, joyful prayer and readings from ancient collections of wisdom and insight.

A few days Lois had spent on the dormitory. But those dreams. Dreams so unlike the ones she would usually explore. And yet. So very much like those. Except this time, the nightmares were hers alone. Not shared with anyone, but for her to endure.

Not that she had had to endure any physical harm, apart from one slap across her face when she failed to react quick enough to the commands of her captors. The marks left on wrists and ankles had vanished by now. And yet. Why did it feel like they were still there? These bindings, invisible reminders of experiences that would be bound to linger.

Lois had come downstairs today, clad in her plain dress of light green. She had settled herself on a cushion on the floor of the room of contemplation, legs crossed, hands resting loosely on her knees, and her back straight.

To regain balance, so Monsieur Philandre had instructed her, it was vital to cleanse her awareness of any ill feelings.

With her eyes closed, Lois allowed her breath to flow, giving herself to the notion that she were a leaf drifting in a light breeze. Outside, on a hill. A lonesome tree. Upright and calm.

Those foreigners. Pictures of their faces flashed in her mind, unbidden. Making Lois flinch instinctively.

Forgive them. They were misguided souls.

They did not harm you. Because there was her.

Gwenaelle, Priestess of Eisheth.

To you I owe my life.

Lips moved but the prayer remained silent.

Lord Eneas.

Shiny saviour. I thank thee for thy kindness.

Lady Helene.

The kind helper, making sure I was alright.



The Companions looked after you.

And there, her blue eyes popped open.

Invisible bindings were tickling her wrists and ankles, as she felt all those emotions well up again.

"Companions. Blessed Elua. Naamah.", Lois murmured, her voice sounding so very young in the quiet calm of the chamber.

Scars ran deeper than she would have had admitted.

When a pouch of pebbles no longer could offer enough reassurance, she would have to go and visit the Temples.

"You are spared from your duties for as long as it takes.", Philandre had informed her.

How humiliating the realization had felt, that Lois nó Coquelicot would not be able to shrug all of this off lightly.

Still, she would be allowed to continue her service.

Blessed be Elua, for leaving her body unscathed. Her soul unsoiled. And her spirit… her spirit would need that time to recover.

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