Darcy Maunder

‘The Book of Sight is a gift from God. A tool for his will and his will alone.’
The words had been spoken to the students of Syltere so many times, Evangeline was starting to wonder if they’d get stuck in her ears. It was one of the first lessons they were taught, hence why it was written above the doors to the Sanctum where the Book was kept guarded and locked away. She’d lost track of how many times she’d stood here, hoping to catch a glimpse of it when the Guard Mother began her morning shift. It had become a part of her routine, to remind her that all the training, the studying, the fighting and the waiting was worth it. That one day, she would stand before the Book, touch the pages that held the secrets of humanity itself and allowed them to guide the choices of every person on earth.

A hand on her shoulder made her flinch, another over her mouth muffling her answering shout. She whirled to see Aris, pressing his index finger to his lips before pulling his hand away.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” Evangeline hissed, heart thundering as she loosed a heavy breath.
Her friend raised a brow, crossing his arms. “You missed the AM brief,” he explained plainly, “there’s a surprise assessment in the training wing. Five minutes.”
The girl’s eyes widened, and she immediately turned to run, Aris keeping step beside her. If they were starting surprise exams already, her chance at becoming one of the Book’s Guardians would come sooner than she’d expected. Her chest tightened at the thought, as if her anticipation were a coil pulled tight around it.
“How did you manage to slip out and warn me, didn’t anyone notice?” she managed to ask through pants, her boots squeaking slightly on the marble floor as they turned a corner.
Aris shook his head, “I told the Guard Mother you’d gone to help the first ranks with their studies,” he breathed, “she seemed to believe me, let me come and get you.”
Evangeline laughed her thanks, starting to feel slightly delirious with stress.
The Guard Mother, Celeste, was one of the two current Guardians of the Book, the other being her brother, Erisiel. They shared the duty together, as well as the responsibility of running their little slice of existence as a whole. Celeste had always described the universe to her students as a shelf, with hell at the bottom, then earth, then Syltere and, finally, the heavens above it all. It was a metaphor, of course, though Evangeline had admittedly tried peering down to earth at the garden barrier once. Or twice.

As they neared the training wing, the Guard Mother’s smooth voice carrying into the corridor, they slowed. The woman had never scared them — she was stern, yes, but fair and endlessly kind. Yet Evangeline found herself sending up a silent prayer as they entered the wing.

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

Syltere was at its best at dawn; the tower seemed to bathe in the morning sun, the light reflecting off of its white walls and making it look as if the stone itself glowed. Evangline sat slumped on a garden bench, idly picking at the moss and lichen that clung to the seat like snails to a rock. It had been peaceful for a while now, the last attack on the Book having been nearly five months prior. She chewed on the inside of her lip — the devil’s legions had come far too close to taking it then, and some of the students had come far too close to harm in its defence.

She glanced up as Aris made his way towards her, weaving through the groups of first ranks on gardening duty. They whispered to each other as he moved past, watching him with wide eyes and nervous smiles. First ranks often looked at him that way, at both of them, actually. Aris was the youngest ever to have reached second rank in studies, Evangeline in combat, though they’d never been far behind each other in either. The earlier exam had been a rude reminder of that fact, when Aris had landed a punch square in her jaw. She resisted the urge to rub it as he sat down beside her, taking a fresh ice pack from his pocket and placing it on her lap.
“You didn’t have to-”
“I know.” He cut in, avoiding her gaze with a sheepish glance at his feet.
Evangeline rolled her eyes, sucking in a sharp breath as she took the pack and held it against her aching face.
Aris gave a sympathetic wince; he’d always struggled with that part of training, couldn’t get past the guilt of hurting someone without need. Their first lesson together, he’d pulled so many punches that Evangeline had pinned him in less than a minute, leaving him with a black eye for good measure. He’d never held back again.
“Stop feeling guilty,” she sighed, folding one leg over the other, “if you remember, I still knocked you on your backside at the end.”
Aris smiled slightly at that, just for a moment, before leaning back into the bench and crossing his arms. His hands were smeared with black ink, his under eyes dark, and she knew he’d been studying overnight again. Sometimes she wondered if he ever slept at all.
“Celeste seemed impressed.” He said softly, his eyes resting on the tower before them. There was no jealousy in his voice, there never had been. Just a quiet sort of admiration.
“I hope so.” Evangeline breathed, tilting her head back and closing her eyes, “I hope so.”

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

Morning prayers used to be Evangeline’s least favourite time of day. The crowded chapel, constant muttering and hard wooden pews made it impossible for her to concentrate. It was Erisiel who’d finally taken pity on her, noticing her failed attempts to hide her fidgeting. He’d sent her to the library instead, handing her a leatherbound notebook in which to write her prayers, explaining how he’d struggled at her age too. She’d been thirteen at the time, and she’d liked him ever since. There’d been at least thirty notebooks filled since then, all kept stacked on a shelf in her bedroom. Though, she found herself writing less these days, her mind wandering elsewhere.

Her gaze shifted from the blank pages to the window, its stained glass casting the room in colour as the sunlight filtered through. It was warm on her face, and she moved her hand into a nearby beam, watching the colours slide across her skin. Weeks had passed since the first exam, with many more following after. It had left Evangeline with a hazy kind of exhaustion — not to mention the countless bruises from the extra combat training.

It was only when Celeste entered the room that she realised how long she’d been zoning out, her delicate footsteps jolting her back to awareness.
The woman nodded towards her in friendly acknowledgement, moving to stand before the window.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she observed quietly, closing her eyes for a moment and relishing in the gentle warmth.
“It is,” Evangeline replied, instinctively straightening in her chair as she closed her notebook and got to her feet, “I always think it’s prettiest at this time.”
Celeste hummed softly and nodded, folding her hands over her abdomen. It was silent, for a few moments, until she began, “You do like it here, don’t you?”
Evangeline blinked, her eyes tracing the outline of the window’s design as she considered.
“It’s my home, it’s all I know,” she started, adjusting her footing, “but yes. Yes, I do.”
“Hm.” Another few moments of silence passed, then, “You told me once that you wanted to be a Guardian one day. Is that still your ambition?”
“It is!” Evangeline blurted, turning to face her teacher. Her cheeks reddened, and she steadied herself. “Yes, it is.”
Celeste smiled, her eyes bright with fond amusement, “Then, I suppose it’s about time we get you prepared.”
The girl’s brow furrowed a little as she resisted the urge to pinch herself to prove she wasn’t hallucinating, “You… You want me as your successor?”
“I do,” Celeste continued, smoothing an invisible crease in her skirt, “I believe you’re ready if you’re committed.”
Hallucination or not, there was no universe in which Evangeline responded with anything other than, “Yes.”

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

It was weeks of private study with Celeste later when she was finally allowed into the Sanctum. They stood outside the arched doors, Evangeline picking at her nails as her teacher slowly removed the locks. The clicking of the metal was like a clock ticking down, each pin moved another moment closer to her first taste of the Book’s abilities. How many times had she dreamed of this? Of finally being able to see and touch it? To use it? When Celeste was finally finished, her eyes began to dart from side to side, as if the words she was searching for might appear before them.
“There is nothing I can say to fully prepare you for this, but you must remember all that I’ve taught you. Is that understood?”
Evangeline nodded as she met the woman’s hardened gaze, so different from her usual open and relaxed demeanour. Celeste pushed the doors open, and they stepped inside.

Every part of her was simultaneously weak and tense, like iron stuffed with jelly. The doors shut behind them, and the room was left in silent darkness, save for the relentless thundering march of her heart. Suddenly, light began to bloom in the centre of the room, curling and spiralling in shooting tendrils. Standing before them was a grand lectern carved from dark, varnished wood, licks of golden paint accenting its various engravings. Resting atop it, the source of the light, was the Book. It lay open, its pages turning as if an invisible hand was leafing through it. Shadows flickered within its glow, silhouettes of humans and animals, breathing in and out of existence like a fickle breeze. Evangeline knew what they were; moments, seconds of lives playing out before them. She wanted to fall to her trembling knees and bow before it. The sheer power of knowledge, life and death themselves.

Celeste strode towards it, turning to a particular page as casually as if it were a normal textbook in the library. “Come closer.” She said gently, gesturing.
Evangeline commanded her legs to walk, glancing to her teacher for confirmation before placing her hands on the lectern. She peered into the pages, opening her mouth to ask something. The question shrank to a yelp before she could voice it, flashes of places and faces she’d never seen barrelling into her mind, suffocating her like snow in an avalanche. She jumped back, panting as she stumbled.
Celeste steadied her, studying her paling face with wide eyes. “It’s okay, I know it’s strange.” The word didn’t even come close.
“That… That was earth, humans?” Evangeline stammered, fumbling for words like a light switch in the dark.
Her teacher nodded, withdrawing her hands. “Yes. But today, you’ll learn to single them out, to only see the ones you need to at any given time. Try this one,” she plucked a shadow from the pages, pulling it closer to the forefront, “Holly Richards.” She said it so simply, as if she was explaining how to tie a pair of shoes.
Evangeline tucked her hair behind her ears, torn between excitement and fear as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Hold the name in your mind. Focus on it.”
The girl took another breath and, gingerly, looked into the pages. Images and sounds consumed her, pulling her in. She was vaguely aware of Celeste’s hand on her shoulder through the onslaught, telling her to ‘focus’. Muttering the name over and over, she clung to it like a lifeline in the crashing waves of noise. Then she was falling, screaming…

In the quiet that followed, she saw a sweet-faced child, no more than three, with hazel eyes and dark hair that curled into ringlets. Clutched in her tiny hand was a stuffed zebra, well-loved and fraying at the ears. Holly. She held the toy close as she sat silently in the care home’s office, sucking on her thumb and listening to a couple chatter with her social worker. Evangeline looked around the room with wide eyes. Her body felt light, barely more than a warm breath in whatever strange spectral form she now took. She glanced at her hands and gasped; their shape was only vaguely visible, like dust in a sunbeam. Turning them over and back, trying to adjust to the feeling, she looked back to the couple, now waving to Holly from across the room. They were adopting her, and she was happy, but they… Wrong. Evangeline focussed on their smiling faces, a sickening feeling welling within her. She saw a room with no windows, bruised skin and too-thin arms. She had to stop them, stop this. She tried to move towards them, grab them, scream at them-

“Evangeline!” Celeste snapped, yanking her away. The light of the room returned as her teacher spoke again, her body becoming dense and heavy as her vision cleared. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen.”
Evangeline blinked, clutching her mentor’s arms. “Send me back,” she whispered, “send me back, I have to stop them!” Her voice was louder now, desperate.
“You can’t,” Celeste answered, leading her away from the Book. “We only intervene when the Lord allows it, you know this.”
She shook her head, hands tightening, “this is wrong, they’ll hurt her! If we can stop it, why wouldn’t he want us to?”
“Because it’s complicated, Evangeline. More so than we can imagine.” Her mentor’s voice was hushed and soothing, but it carried a weight Evangeline had never noticed before. A sadness. “Sometimes we can help, but sometimes you just have to trust that he knows best.”
The girl took a step back, Holly’s innocent face still lingering in her mind. “I don’t know how to trust that.”
The realisation felt like poison, like a creeping mould infecting the life she’d thought was pure. There was nothing to say, nothing to do, so she turned to the doors and left.

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

Evangeline told Aris everything, hidden in the weapons room where no one would hear. He listened intently, nodding along and waiting patiently whenever she struggled to find the words. By the end of her explanation she was in tears, her knees pulled to her chest.
“I can’t imagine what that must’ve…” Aris scrubbed at his face, letting out a sigh. “What are you going to do? Tell Celeste you can’t do it?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know…” Evangeline sniffed, wringing her hands. Her eyes were red and swollen, her gaze unfocussed. “What would you do?”
Aris raised a brow, pushing his hair from his face. “I — well — Ev, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. You knew you wouldn’t be able to help everyone.”
“But I thought it would be clearer,” she began, getting to her feet, “like, not helping one person get a job because someone else needs it more. I can’t see a reason for this.”
Aris nodded slowly, crossing his arms as he watched her pace.
“Maybe he made a mistake, maybe he missed her?”
“I don’t think he missed her, Ev. We just have to trust-”
“How can I trust that?!” she snapped, hands tensing.
Aris went silent and lowered his gaze.
She closed her eyes, taking a slow breath. “I’m sorry, I just don’t see how this is right. They’re going to hurt her and I… I don’t think I can let that happen.”
Aris’ brows furrowed, and he stood slowly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” she lifted her face to meet his eyes, letting her arms go slack at her sides, “I’m saying I’m going to help her. And I’m asking you not to tell anyone.”
He shook his head, “You’re asking me to choose between you and my faith, I can’t-”
“Don’t choose,” Evangeline pleaded, grabbing his arm, “don’t choose. I’m not asking you to help, just don’t say anything. Please.”
He was still for a while, searching her eyes for something. Then, his touch almost reverent, he lifted his hand and gently wiped a stray tear from her face. “At least sleep on it. Think, pray.” He said lowly, studying her face as if it were a question he couldn’t find the answer to.
She nodded, her eyes not leaving his for a moment.
“Ev, I mean it. Promise me?”
Evangeline reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his as she whispered, “I promise.”
They both knew her decision was already made.

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

When night fell and the tower was quiet, Evangeline slipped out of her bedroom. Gently glowing sconces pierced the shadows, giving her just enough light to see by as she climbed the stairs. With one hand on the wall to balance herself, she could feel every crack and divot in the aging stone. Every imperfection. She wondered how many of them were made during attacks, by a mis-angled sword or a demon’s claw, how much blood had been scrubbed from the steps on which she walked.
She hadn’t wanted to lie to Aris, the thought of it made her feel sick, but she could protect him better this way. If he was asked, he could say with honesty that he didn’t know she was doing it, that she’d told him she’d wait. More than anything, she regretted telling him at all. It had been unfair to drag him into it. Maybe, deep down, she’d wanted him to convince her not to intervene. He’d stopped her from doing countless reckless things before, but this wasn’t reckless. This was necessary.

With an unsteady hand, she knocked on Celeste’s bedroom door. There was a muffled shuffle and the sound of slippers on wood, before the door creaked open and the woman peeked around the side. She seemed to tense when she realised who it was, but pulled it open fully.
“Evangeline, it’s late.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” The girl whispered, shifting her weight slightly, “I know I can’t help Holly, but I need to help someone. Anyone.”
Celeste hesitated, pensively tapping a finger on the door handle. “You want to go back to the Sanctum?”
Evangeline nodded, not quite able to meet the woman’s eyes. “I think I have to.”
She sighed, beginning to close the door, “Very well. We’ll go in the morning.”
“No, wait!” the girl exclaimed, gripping the edge of the door.
Celeste shot her an incredulous look.
“Please, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Her teacher frowned, tilting her head slightly, “Evangeline…”
“I’m begging you.” It had to be now, or Aris could be implicated. Or she’d lose her nerve.
Celeste looked up and back, considering.
For a moment, Evangeline wondered if there was a similar conflict in the woman’s mind, a similar doubt in what they’d been taught.
“Alright,” she answered, “I’ll get my keys.”

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

The walk down to the Sanctum went too quickly, every step making Evangeline feel more on-edge. Her mind felt like a hive, her thoughts like buzzing wasps that moved too quickly for her to process. She’d only have one chance at this and, whether she succeeded or not, she was risking her place at Syltere. Her home. Her throat felt tight, and tighter still as Celeste began to undo the locks, one by one.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” she asked, placing a hand on the door.
Evangeline just nodded, not quite trusting herself to keep her nerve if she spoke. As they stepped inside, the Book opened once more, filling the space with its harsh light. Again, she began to tremble, but ignored it, marching towards the garish lectern. Gripping either side of its top, she forced herself to look into the pages one last time. Celeste began to speak, telling her to wait, but her panicked voice was quickly swallowed by the swarm of voices, the sickening pull of the Book. Evangeline honed her thoughts, directing them towards Holly once again, the child’s name a beacon in the barrage of information. And there she was, at the very moment she’d left her, the adoption papers still unsigned. Evangeline clawed her way towards the social worker, her movements lacking traction in this form, like running on slick mud. Once she was close enough, she sent an image into his mind, the very one that had led her here. The windowless room, Holly bruised and starving, and an indisputable order: ‘Do not let her go.’ His expression changed, morphing to one of horror and determination, and she knew her message had been received. Even as Evangeline began to fall back, the tight grip of Celeste’s hands on her shoulders, she couldn’t help but smile. Whatever happened to her, however she was punished, Holly would be safe.

.⊰𓆩❍𓆪⊱.

For the first time in her life, Evangeline found herself in a place she didn’t know. Her eyes snapped open, her head throbbing in protest as she pushed herself onto her knees. A chill breeze weaved through the gauzy layers of her clothes, making her skin pebble. Lush, damp grass cushioned her hands and knees, the longer blades trembling in the gentle wind. Above her, the sky was dark and peppered with stars, like pinpricks in black paper. She got to her feet, turning slowly as she took in her surroundings. For miles, it was grass, bordered by thick, unruly hedges, and almost silent except for the occasional droning sigh of passing cars. Passing… Cars. This was earth. She folded her arms across her chest, trying to shield herself from the cold. They’d really banished her. Her eyes stung as her legs buckled beneath her, tears tracking warm, wet lines down her cheeks. She hung her head, letting them drip onto her bare knees. It didn’t matter that she’d expected it, didn’t matter that she’d gone ahead with her plan regardless, she still felt that gnawing, empty loss. And the one thought she couldn’t bear to fathom, the one realisation that sent her wailing into a deaf night, was that she would never see Aris again. That the last thing she’d said to him was a lie. That she’d betrayed him.

“Evangeline.” A voice, deep and soft, broke through her cries. “Evangeline, what have you done?”
The girl looked up, her fingers tangled in the grass. Standing in front of her was a man she’d never seen, but, somehow, she recognised him. He was half a foot or so taller than her, with chestnut hair littered with strands of silver. He knelt down, his deep brown eyes meeting hers. There was nothing unusual or outstandingly beautiful about the man, yet she knew who he was. Not a man at all, but God. Her God.
“I don’t know.” She sobbed, “I don’t know, I wanted to help. I couldn’t leave her-”
“But you knew I had commanded it?”
Evangeline nodded, shaking violently. “I couldn’t leave her with them.”
His eyes traced her face, and she knew that he was seeing into the deepest parts of her mind, her soul.
“You didn’t trust me.” The words were simple but laced with a sadness she hadn’t expected. A hurt. Before she could try and explain, he took her hand, and an image filled her head. Holly, fully grown and healthy, sitting at a desk in a police station. On a pin board behind her were newspaper clippings — cases she’d solved. An abusive parent jailed, a missing child found, sex traffickers captured and incarcerated and countless others. As quickly as it had appeared, the image fizzled and faded. That was the future she could have had, the future that Evangeline had taken from her.
“And… And now?” she dared to ask, needing to know.
God smiled sadly, “Holly will be adopted by a kind woman, a teacher, but many of the children she would have saved as an adult will not be so fortunate.” There was real pain in his voice, his eyes.
An overwhelming suffocating heat filled Evangeline, her breath growing fast and shallow. She had been arrogant, interfered with things she knew nothing about, and in saving one child she’d doomed several others. But through the shame and regret, that nagging doubt remained. He was God, he could stop it all, save them all, so why did he do nothing?
“You see a glimpse, where I see a whole.” He began, sensing her thoughts. “Do not believe that I relinquish you to pain without reason. Do not believe that I am not with you, with them, for every moment of it.”
The girl began to sob once more, understanding beginning to chip away at the armour her doubt had created.
“You are made in my image, Evangeline,” he continued, placing a hand on her shoulder, “but you are not me. You do not know better.”
Evangeline bowed her head, barely able to breathe through her cries. It began to make sense then, not completely, not fully, but enough for her to understand that she’d been wrong. Utterly, devastatingly wrong.
God wrapped her in his arms, letting her sob against his shoulder as the tears slowly diminished into whispered apologies.
“I can’t go back, can I?” she croaked, rubbing her eyes as he helped her stand.
He shook his head, “I believe you will learn better on earth.”
Evangeline nodded, that gnawing pain rearing its head once more. “Aris,” she began, wringing her hands, “can you tell him why I’m gone? That I’m sorry?”
God studied her, then replied firmly, “He will join you here.”
No. No. She brought a hand to her mouth, shaking her head, “Please, please, it was my fault-”
He raised a hand, silencing her. “He knew what you had planned and did nothing. His loyalty to you led him to betray me. Just as you must rediscover your faith, he must rediscover his.”
She gagged, her eyes watering. God placed his hands on her shoulders, and the nausea immediately receded, her breathing settling. “What’s done is done, Evangeline. Do not let your guilt prevent you from moving forwards.”
The girl fell to her knees once again, tears blurring her vision. She closed her eyes and, when she opened them again, God was gone. In his place, kneeling in front of her, was Aris.

Relief and guilt collided within her, like repelling magnets forced to touch.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, the sight of him here, taken from his home because of her shortsightedness too much to bear. “I’m so sorry, Aris!”
He would leave. He would leave her here alone and he’d be right. He would leave and-
“I’m not angry.”
Evangeline swallowed, gathering the courage to meet his eyes. “What?”
Aris took her hand, helping her to her feet. “I knew you’d go, I knew what you were going to do, and I didn’t stop you because I agreed with you.” He squeezed her hand as he spoke, running his thumb across her knuckles. “I’m sorry, Ev.”
Evangeline shook her head, pulling her hand from his and wrapping her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest, unable to find the words, and sent up a silent prayer. A thank you. The sun rose behind her, warming her back and beginning to dry her damp clothes.