=== Noctia's absolution

In the darkness, a kind blaze was ignited, illuminating the room inside a small secluded house during a cold night at Maremoda. Gathered near the bright warmth of hearthside was him who brings fire, her who brings brilliance, and they who bring radiance. They all felt it with their reaching out hands, their shivering legs, and their yearning bodies. But the true thawing ice temperature, the bond that they all joined with a silent embrace, did not require any sparks or taming. It was a flame with close-knit origin.

Watching that image through the window, and from the outside, was the single knight donning a black armour. His eyes behind the vision, he appeared blind to the outside. Thus, without staring for much longer, he walked the streets that only echoed his massive footsteps. Not a single soul was to be found in this narrow pathway, not even the street lights were to shine brightly. With the zephyr blowing, the delicate touch made to his cape was unnoticed. His destination, despite he wasn't in hurry, was something causing his wanderlust.

Near the two wooden gates, on a quite spacious pavement, was a sanctuary known as the church. It is there where those that lost might find their way. It was there where in prayer, people might receive their answer. It was there where you spoke with the Lord, hoping that his help will realise the meaning behind life and death. Knowing not the certainty of his actions, the knight stood.

[This is the place that was created during my absence? It is a magnificent display of human skillful adaptation. Nevertheless, these stones are not this black knight's destination, for he no longer follows the light of the Holy Spirit that resides in heaven. Pray I shall always, to solitary monuments that host burned, sentimental ashes. But this is not my time and place—here is only a mystification of what truth is. Alas, drawn by a silent cry carried by the winds of nocturnal doubt, what demon trickery was I overtaken by? Answer, who goes there?]

[Welcome my child, please do not fret and come inside. It is cold outside due the wind, and your body is shaking. Thus, isn't it better to come into the glory his warmth? Treat travellers like if you would your relatives, that was written. I can't help but to prepare something to heat up your tired hands, so don't be afraid. I am only showing my hospitality.]

[It is not a sin to invite the tar covered devil into a holy sanctuary? Worry not about this black knight's state avid owl sister, for not only I won't enter, I also resist to answer my reasons. Isn't it only obvious that my bearing remains untouched? Hence, I thank thee only for goodwill—that alone is a virtue. Yet, this foul breeze welcomes not the one who quit being his subject.]

[I understand, for his wisdom allows me to see with bright eyes. Even though if you insist on silence, even if you stand here, even if you speak about forsaking his will, his love have not yet been extinguished. At all times, he can reignite your fire, and allow you passage to heaven. There is always a way, I believe, and let it be known that I shall pray for your case too.]

The two with their terrifying difference in size, stood near the open gates and gazed at each other. It was the darkest point, not even the Moon shined upon the ground. Yet, the one that stood in the gleam of the altar illuminated by several candles, or the one that stood in the darkness outside of the wax lights, who between them was the one bestowed with his heavenly brilliance?

Not knowing the answer, the young and caring cleric has followed her vocation and went inside a small room. There with the stove, she prepared warm tea for visitor. Worrying not about her fingers, she grabbed the hot cup with both hands, and without any delay, took towards the traveller who appeared to remain in place after he stopped right near the entrance, looking empty in the space.

Noticing her dedication the knight not responded—his weighty resolve caused his muscles not to move at all. Seemingly lifeless, his tall posture did not yield to the kindness of the other. He was like a statute. Meanwhile the girl, with her up on her toes, with small hands reaching all the way, she tried to send the aroma towards the visitor, but her tiny height was not sufficient.

[Um, child, could you not see I'm trying to offer you my warmth? I have especially prepared the best fruit tea just for you. It gentle smell alone should arose your cold nose to react, should it not? It would be not wise not to accept gifts from...]

[Yet the vow was made, and it shall not be broken. True are your words, brewing witch of the night, but in wisdom lies the answer. The one who accepted the gift of fruit from the woman was to learn everything. He was forsaken by trickery, but who is to blame? As the blind trust was put into other, he received the punishment as his reward. Therefore, this black knight shall not doubt his judgment. Steel is his resolve and he will stand here, where your hand shall not reach, in the unholy darkness brighter than the light.]

Although those words filled the air with more foul blackness than the devil’s breath, they also caressed the ears of the tiny priest. Was she doubting her call, was this a mistake that did upset the guest? She retracted her hands back to her tiny chest, and her heels firmly back onto insoles. Gazing upon the stranger, she again decided to speak again, with faintly unsure eyes.

[If it is so, then I apologize for my mistake. I clearly prepared the wrong one, so do not fret. I shall return with another. But I plead again, why not enter inside? It looks like it is going to snow outside there. Wouldn’t under a ceiling be better?]

[Again, nun donning cassock that suits a priest, you have not listened the words set in this silent and foreboding night. It matters not what you try and what you say, for this knight knows well his chivalry code. The lost are those who walk, not stand. Thus worry not about the close, but the strangers to the paving beyond the shelter. The one standing here is not amongst them.]

[Perhaps you speak of wisdom, but this is my devotion. I seek only to help the lost. If my petty words are not enough, I shall pray to God, and may he show you the path.]

Puzzled by the words that carried not the wisdom of the God, but rather twisted it in such a way that didn't sound wrong, the kind Noctia, who was long in service as clergy, started to doubt if her actions had any effect on the traveller. With her hands joined and with her mind looking somewhere for an answer, she took back the brew she made to the room.

After a while, she would exit, heading towards the empty altar. There she would kneel down on the ground, with her back straight, and started to pray to the only certainty she knew. With the knight behind her back, she would not know whenever he moved or not. With the world behind her, she would not know if someone else came. Yet with place that hosted God, forward to her, she would ask.

[Have I not been your loyal servant for many years? It matters not, this skin or this world—I will follow towards the end of time. Have I not always helped those in need of your light? Always being faithful to your teachings, I pray for my sisters every morning. Have I not strived for a world where you give warmth as the father of all? It brings great joy to those who lack others, thus I...]

A single tear dropped outside—it started snowing.

[Yet even today I feel lost and in need to receive your word. Is that my path, the test you give me? As your servant I can only...]

[You can only hope, young soul of silver, as your intentions do not lie in purity or darkness. You might be different from others, but the same in his glory. It matters not if you succeed or if you fail, but the wisdom that follows after. The purpose is your own truth. Have this dark knight not listened to his voice, he wouldn’t be able to find the path that he treads now, with firm and heavy steps over sinful thorns. It's not by far the way most suitable for weak souls, but the only without dubious dim lights. It is the judgment of pragmatism.]

The cold wind blew through open doors, as if trying to snuff out the candles. Yet, they still remained.

[But even if you say this Lord, not only I am the one that gives, but a weak spirit who also desires your hand to walk in glory. I shall not abandon your presence, within this faintly candle lit altar, within this feeble heart yearning for comforting love, within the night that cast light upon life to lost lambs. Steel again I must be, despite this little body and my weak biorhythm, for the glory is by the Lord's side. Everything I offer to him, as the servant of his divine will, here in the world of unbelief.]

Quiet...and then once again, a strong breeze came through the corridor, almost shutting the doors to the church.

[Finding a safe shelter within your mind, closed but with open doors, cold but warm to the brief touch, rough but firm to the knees, it is your path now, young seeker of the cure. Yet, matters not for this black knight what you decide, at current or in near future. Demons are present near every soul, be it the past regent or inability to stand. Cleansing them is impossible even for pious angels. My words short-sighted owl, without ground even those that fly shall not reach the sky. It starts from within, not from the outside.]

Hearing those words, unable to discreet their origin, the young priest who was still, did not know of the correct way to respond. It was not just the God, but something from her heart that started to appear as an image brighter than the night. Filled with doubt, what miracle did she perceive? Only in the darkness you may see the true light, one that is certain. Rest remains forever unclear.

Noctia, forcing her small body to bend to the ground, stretched her legs and arms near the altar. Her chest touched the ground, and in that cross position she remained praying. Would God listen to her now? Will she receive the answer she so eagerly needs? Alas, with the wounded heart one can only hope it will be cured one day. That’s why they walk the path of thorns to help the lost. But the truth is that the pain always remains, it is never erased. Knowing that well, what is there to fix? Nothing, only to ease.

[Please God...can you tell me the way? I don't understand those feelings, or those words you give to me. How pitiful I look, how dubious is my vocation when I can't stand by myself. I beg you my Lord, you are the only one that can teach me my faults! I can fix them...just like the others, for that is my purpose. Even though the night is my time and I can't be like the rest, belief in your judgment is what I want to give them! My heart is what I want to sacrifice, just like you gave your life...]

But now only the silence remained. Was she true to her words? That mystery will remain unsolved. What did happen to the black knight who visited her? His fable will remain still in the darkness. So where is the light? Is it within others, God or yourself? Perhaps it is within everyone's soul. To ignite it, one requires a special flame, one that comes not from faith but lies within the heart.

On this silent night in Maremoda, people were going to sleep within the warmth of others, with their fireplace lit, with them understanding each other due love rather than with words. A silent sob was echoed once again. This time, not even a single soul would hear it. Only the footprint-less snow appeared to be filling the streets in silence.