18 December 2022
There’s a lot that’s changed about this story since I first started it. For example, now I’m thinking Aislin did officially join the temple to the Rose in some capacity, rather than just working as a volunteer under a probationary status. Still working out how she brings Cordelia around; it might even be the same. I also want to figure out a better idea of what some of Aislin’s own flaws and concerns are; I’d like the old woman at the end to be able to help her out.
The rabble-rouser guy is going to come into play in the future. I’m definitely going to have fun with this. Though I do want to change what he says here, make it less relatable and more sketch.
In particular, one man stood on a box in one of the more open areas of the slums. He looked disheveled, with ragged clothes and a patchy beard, but there was a ferocious gleam in his eye as he yelled out to the crowd.
“And what have they done for us? What good do their cries of love, or life, or beauty, do to solve our problems?”
Aislin watched for just a moment, and felt the emotions of the crowd shift and sway with every turn of the man’s words. She hurried away, as lead settled in her stomach.
Only a couple blocks beyond that, she finally found the shrined. It was a small, simple thing; a small altar set before the painting of a raven-haired woman, the left half of her face covered by a mask. Indeed, her entire left side seemed to be withered and dead. The altar and the room looked clean and well-cared for.
Aislin bowed her head and offered a silent prayer to the Lady. What had she hoped to accomplish here?
As she turned to leave, however, she found an elderly woman, with wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Ah, apologies, child. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“No, it’s quite alright. I was just finishing up, anyway.”
The old woman studied her carefully, and her eyes lingered on the rose pin on Aislin’s lapel. “I must say, we don’t get many of your faith out this direction. What brings you here?”
Aislin Next->