Literature Quotes:
"I dream of you, to wake: would that I might Dream of you and not wake but slumber on; Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone, As, Summer ended, Summer birds take flight."	Monna Innominata by Christina Rossetti
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Bea sat uncomfortably on her wooden chair in the library. She rested her head on her desk. The fresh whiplashes on her back were burning underneath her leather halter-top. High priestess Dalia was dictating the basic principles of healing magic, again! Bea signed as she watched the other apprentice fervently taking notes on her roll of parchment. Mia annoyed her. She was a maiden from a rich family that had not been able to find a husband. She didn’t wear the customary leather apprentice garb but lovely frilly dresses and never partook in the physical training. As if that wasn’t enough to annoy Bea, the priestesses always acclaimed Mia like she was the reincarnation of Lady Parthenopia, the first death priestess, but when it came to practical lessons Bea saw well that Mia had no talent in comparison to her after all her spells rarely succeeded and Bea knew why. Mia had a secret. Bea had surprised her during one of her night scroll with a boy from town frolicking in the bushes by the temple’s stone gates shaped like two crossed scythes.
“Bea,” interjected Lady Dalia annoyed at never being able to captivate her attention, “you’ll never be as good as Mia if you do not study properly. Now, take these note down.”
Bea not wanting any more trouble today, after all she wasn’t in the mood for a long lecture, was about to take out her roll of parchment and inkbottle from her bag when Mia giggled. Why did she believe herself better than me? Bea wondered as she glared at Mia with her hands in tight fists.
“You should just leave the temple if you’re not going to bother studying,” teased Mia, knowing very well that Bea was allowed to leave the temple without permission and that just to run errands into town.
What does this airhead know, thought Bea trying to calm the rage bubbling inside her by biting her lower lip hard.
“It’s not like you’re any good at it anyways,” continued Mia with a smirk.
Why was she purposely trying to make me angry? Bea asked herself. Did she want her secret revealed?
“Should I ask that boy from town to see what kind of moan you excel at?” Suggested Bea as a large grin grew upon her face when Mia suddenly turned her head to face Lady Dalia in fear.
That was it for her, thought Bea, she be thrown out of here shamed and ridiculed like the wench deserved. Bea felt a slight pain of guilt she didn’t like tater telling it was beneath her. She shouldn’t have made her mad; after all, she had never done anything to her. She left her alone. Bea tried to convince herself she had done the right thing.
Lady Dalia conjured a bar of soap into her hands: “ Bea a priestess should never tell such foul lies. This is a warning next time you’ll have a taste of this soap bar,” she added before turning back towards the black board to continue the lesson.
Bea stared befuddled, her eyes as round as saucers. She couldn’t believe it. They didn’t even trust her words. She had never lied before. Why would Lady Dalia believe Mia over her, wondered Bea holding back tears by squeezing her firsts tighter till her nails pieced the flesh of her hands.
Mia was whipping a few beads of sweat from her forehead and smiling.
Bea stood up exasperated.
“Sit down,” screeched an irritated Lady Dalia, “that’s enough and listen, Bea.”
Bea had enough of trying to fit in. It was all a joke. She laughed. Tore off her halter top and pronounced a few words and the whiplashes on her back vanished and healed without a scare before the eyes of Mia and Lady Dalia.
“This is a waste of time,” Bea asserted before walking out and snapping the door shut behind her.

Dalia was one of the many priestesses here at the temple that feared Bea’s talent. They ignored how she advanced so quickly and where she was obtaining her knowledge. They feared it was due to her heritage, a strange power from her father’s Dark bloodline. In order to counteract Bea’s growing power they had conceived a plan to destroy her confidence. First by making her run errands into town where the townsfolk would obviously treat her poorly but when the effects of that began to diminish they had enrolled Mia as an apprentice. But, Dalia was no longer certain the plan had been a good no one.

Bea stumped down the corridor holding her head up high tightening her jaw trying to hold back the tears that had decided to fall down her cheeks in their own accord. She hated feeling this way. Sadness was a sign of her weakness. She wanted to be loved. She didn’t want to be made a fool of every day like this. It wasn’t fair; she had never known her father or any of his relatives why would she act like them. “What were they all so scared of?” She screamed trying to release the anger raging inside her. Bea was tired of trying and failing to fit in. She no longer knew what she could try.
When Mia had first join the temple, Bea had been happy. She thought she might make a friend after years of being alone. She remembered the first thing Mia had said to her when Bea had waited, in the temple gardens by the main gate, to welcome her. She had been twelve years old then and still hoped that she could make friends. She had been so naïve, thought Bea in disgust. The sun had just fallen behind the horizon when the two stoned scythes were pushed opened and Bea saw the prettiest girl she had ever seen: a young girl a little older than herself with golden locks and wearing a simple slick white dress with a flower hem. She had approached with opened arms to give her a hug.
“Gross do not touch me, wretched slave, know your place,” she had said while pinching her nose.
Stunned, Bea had just stood there till the stars like icicles pierced the dark veil above wondering what she had done wrong.
Five years had now gone by, and Bea had tried several times to befriend Mia but to no avail and now she had had enough.
She smiled thinking about that black leather book in the secret room behind the Head priestess’ room. It contained so many interesting and painful ways to seek revenge.
She had discovered the secret room as a child when playing hide and seek. She had lifted the tapestry of Lady Parthenopia, the first death priestess luring the wounded of some war onto the next life, hanging in the east wing by the dorms thinking it would be a good hiding spot but when her back had touched the wood panelled wall it encountered no resistance. She fell through and found and unlit corridor. Darkness had never been a problem for her. Her red eyes allowed her to see clearly at night as well as at day. That was there only advantage, thought Bea frowning. At the end of the corridor she had found a windowless room no bigger than the kitchen pantry but instead of food it was packed with hundred of old dusty leather bound books. The aged volumes spanned the four walls from top to bottom, were piled in corners, stuffed in boxes… the sight of all these books had marvelled Bea. She had found a treasure box filled with mysteries to occupy her boring days and to take her mind off the awful teasing the town children made her suffer everyday.