Words of the First Sisters of Night: Change
We walked among the rotten, starved, and broken. We sold ourselves for less than a coin. We had nothing, no light or prayer. Yet she came and gave us both a chance and hope. She will always be remembered for giving us what we always needed. Change.
—Burned fragments of pages from the First Sisters of Night
Vespera carefully watched the guards once more during her routine daily travels. They did the same to her. It was a tense peace, as fragile as their patience.
The guards always frowned at anyone from the middle class who entered the slums. For the slum dwellers, it was a detested necessity they allowed to exist unprovoked—until the church came and demanded more action. Then it became more beatings, fueled by ire at being forced to deal with their ilk.
Yet her movements between the classes gave them unease. They were never sure how to handle her. At first, it seemed easy to ignore her or throw a light beating to warn her of the risk. But she kept coming back, and then there was the talk.
She was also a whore, and they knew what the light said of beggars and whores. Yet her walking free broke that understanding. Add to it that she only brought smiles and peace, even when they called her a whore. It was hard to see her the same as the rest of the gutter trash.
She seemed normal—no, perhaps more. She gave freely to those beneath her, in ways they had never seen before.
So the guards turned away. There was always another beggar to shoo away who was trying to enter the middle class. It was easier than worrying about one who seemed kinder and beyond their control. This was their way of showing mercy to an alleged whore—for all they saw was a common woman walking among the poor.
However, the knights were another story. They required more caution to pass. They did not agree with freedom for the slums, seeing them as leftovers of the rot that plagued society. They were also more deeply rooted in the light, by proxy of the king and church. Even if a few among them agreed the slums should be free, they had less leeway in giving mercy and showed it with action more than words.
Tom, her love, was the only exception besides the light champion. And even he was distant.
Tom did what he could to address it. He even got a few knights to embrace it. Among those few who cared, they tried to yell and announce their presence long before any violence, to spare who they could with their small defiance. But anyone too sick or slow to leave before they got close still paid for it. This showed it was merely words they could heed, but the weak still suffered the same for being seen as unclean.
She wanted to heal them all. But she finally knew the true cost of Abaddon’s soul for the gift she gave—and why he demanded an understanding of her choice. It bled Abaddon’s mana and slowly killed him to show that mercy. So she would be just as merciless to those who scorned that gift he freely gave, or who helped those opposing her lord by enabling the cruelty.
She had already been putting those words into practice to help feed her lord’s dying soul. She found the unworthy by day or night—be it those she tried to help from the gutter, knights, guards, or church members. She ended them, or those blessed like her who followed her faith did the same in Abaddon’s name. Like a whisper in the night, slowly they faded and were no longer theirs to fight.
Yes, it raised questions but also brought less fear—fewer beatings, fewer patrols, fewer issues. They made it clear things were changing.
The first major surprise was when she was bringing bread and a stall was set up in an alley, catching her off guard.
It was a man she had converted a few days ago. He was cooking rat meat on sticks and smiling at her. "You want one? Free of charge to those worthy of blessing." It was code talk for those who chose Abaddon.
She could not help herself and tried a bite. It was good—not as good as tavern food, but for what you could find in the slums and rot? It was a fine meal.
He saw her face of approval and beamed with pride. "They’re easy to catch before the rot gets them. I do check to make sure they’re clean. I’ve been hoarding them and eating them for a while." His smile faded at that. "Sorry, food was scarce, and I like eating."
She waved her hand, taking another bite, and spoke afterward. "We do what we must. It is our choices when we can make them that matter, and you chose well."
He bowed deeply, nearly bumping his head on his stall. "You’re too kind with all you’ve given us. This is unworthy of being called giving back." He rose, smiling once more. "But I can try."
She nodded as she left, looking for the girls she favored first. Seera was off with Tom; she knew at least that seemed her blessing. She had been trying to push the guards more into less action and less hunting the streets at the church’s command.
Terra was stalking the darker corners, looking for those still hurting the weak and not yet having a chance at blessings. Anytime she found one or managed a kill, they all felt it as it swelled the darkness in them all—an odd feeling, growing in power as their lord did. It seemed he never stopped sharing his gift.
She looked at her hand, able to shift it to darkness, but pulled it back. She liked being human, wanted to be human, and did not want to lose that. She knew her god would not push for anything beyond that.
She was hoping to find Jane, the only one not accounted for. Jane had been saying she was hoping to have news for her, and she did wonder what it was. So as she went to find out what news Jane wanted to share, she met who she could among the streets.
It took a few questions and fearful glances to coax people to relax, but it was getting better. They went from hiding in shadows to openly walking in streets, so change was coming. A year ago, this would have gotten her laughed at; she probably would have done the same, knowing what she was—only a whore sharing bread, hoarding what little coin she could to help others be fed.
Jane was surprisingly easy for Vespera to find soon after a few willing to talk guided her. Shocking her more was that Jane already had a small crowd of people surrounding her.
Jane saw Vespera and, filled with mirth, spoke fondly to her. "Always when we need you most, you show," she said. The warmth of the words caused everyone near to look and see what she meant. They bowed, seeing Vespera, and were thankful for her blessing and giving them purpose.
She waved them down. "You all were able to choose and just wanted a chance. That’s all I gave; nothing more. Our Lord—it was He who gave more than that. Remember to return the favor."
A murmur went through the crowd. They all felt better, healed, and less hungry. But after years of rot and fearing the light, it was hard to believe there was a new god, much less one of darkness. They wanted to believe it was all her and just magic essence they did not understand.
Still an unbelievable blessing, but more grounded and tangible than a new god coming from darkness. She did not like how they were trying to downplay the lord’s actions but understood they needed time. The lord did not demand devotion, only to not oppose him or watch his followers be harmed unprovoked.
Jane spoke once more while Vespera was losing herself to those thoughts: "As you all know, we’ve been blessed. Change came thanks to those who showed us love versus leaving us in this mess." She pointed to Vespera, which made her flinch, not liking how this was being addressed. Abaddon was not a merciless god, but he was a god. "She was the one who guided us in our darkest hour, but—"
She paused, watching them all carefully, getting them to focus on her next words. Even Vespera was surprised by how she changed this address: "It is thanks to our new god we are even able to achieve this."
Vespera breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she wasn’t alone in recognizing Abaddon’s worth and not forgetting he was a god who gave them this.
The crowd seemed less sure. They had the same darkness, but it did not consume them or force a choice. They started to wonder who was really the one who gave them this and clung to what they could see before them. They assumed it was what they felt that let them be blessed, misunderstanding that it was Abaddon’s greatest gift—something they never knew could exist.
Freedom to choose. A gift none truly had before, a miracle they still tried denying—that they could be more.
"The guards known only for beating have seen we are worth more, as I’m sure you all notice, or you would not even be here to bear witness to this new thing." Jane went on, and Vespera wasn’t sure what this new thing was. She was just standing next to a random big house. It was a fluke she had even found her. She thought she needed to scout more. If not for the people who guided her, she probably would be wandering even more.
Yet it was Jane’s next words that stunned all, even her.
"They bought us this home." She glanced at the stunned crowd, and the murmur of uncertainty persisted, even though Vespera wanted to join the gossip in disbelief.
"The thieves’ guild uses it as a backup safe house and failsafe to store things." Jane paused, knowing she was being too frank with gossip that was more private talk. "Uh, forget I said that. It was negotiated with people in the middle class who did not like homes in the gutter, so they let gutter trash have something nice."
"It’s not charity. It still will cost us, so it is not free of strings, but it is a home and proof of our new start." She grew sad with her next words.
"We cannot let all live and sleep here. I prefer to let the worst escape a beating or have a place to rest when things get to be too much and rotate others when they can."
"In time, we plan to try and get more houses, but the church is holding most homes in their grasp, and the few they don’t have are more storage- and rot-infested than livable." Jane reflected for a moment. "Or the few middle-class slum lords that keep other rats that have coins versus us, though it could also be the thieves—er, normal people just trying to make some money from us in the slums."
Vespera swelled with pride knowing things were changing, and they even got a home from this. She never worked with thieves directly beyond randomly paying a toll to ignore her, and she knew of the deals but was surprised they got one. Usually, it was ten times the house’s worth to keep you indebted, but it seemed Jane might have convinced them they were worthy of interest and did something different.
It was proof they could be worth more.
Even as the joy of those thoughts flooded her curious mind, a new voice splashed a bit of cold truth on how things really would be unless she fixed it and changed fate’s hand.
"Why are slum whores, beggars, and thieves gathering in one place?" It was the bishop who graced them with another visit. They had reduced the faithful willing to strike at them, but the bishop was one who refused to bend, loving the idea of power as much as what he could lord over them.
Vespera watched from the corner of her eye as the few gathered started to flee but hesitated at the edges to see how it went. So for her, this would be the real test of whether things changed, or if they were just the slums that forgot cats play before they kill their prey—and they had been nothing more than playthings, assuming they were not prey versus the true ones who ruled this day.
"I know you," the bishop pointed to a random girl, "a whore and out in plain view? Where is your shame, harlot?"
She watched him glance around, taking them all in, and noticed them glare back without fear. She saw his face morph to confusion, wondering why they looked back at him with indifference.
For the first time, the bishop was experiencing the same thing he pushed on others: fear. He had a small bead of sweat forming, and she knew he was unsure how to handle the change. He was probably wondering why they were not begging for mercy or at least looking down in shame.
Why did it seem they had pride?
Vespera watched as his uncertainty turned to a conviction that he had to remove whatever was giving them hope. She would not wait to see what method he employed. They were beyond waiting to be beaten; now they would act and make change.
"You rot and whore, think you can stand against me. Do you know who I am?" The bishop was readying a speech, and the clenching of his fist meant a strike was not far behind if she did not intervene.
She already started to see doubt in those of her followers at how blatantly he was able to proclaim such things.
"You have no power here, false one." She stepped forward, shocking a few to stumble to the side, clearing a path. A few whispered her name in hushed tones as if it was a forgotten truth they just remembered. The bishop heard it too, and his anger turned somber. He finally saw the head of the snake to cut to end the spread of poison, which he would cleanse.
"So it is you who offers false hope to the rats. Does that make you the rat queen? Is that why the whores dance so proudly? Do they think you are their harlot queen?" He sneered as he spoke those words, and a few even flinched back, unsure if it was worth the risk to defend her name. Yet a smile bloomed on her lips.
For though a few still gave in to fear, she saw the majority poised to strike the bishop, who was ignorant of the whole ordeal. He watched her with his disdain, assuming he was winning the game.
She gently raised her hand, stalling them. Truth and power came from words. The goddess showed them oppression and taught them that truth. Now she wanted to show that their new god let her choose with them. She wanted to carry that forward, not with needless bloodshed but choices—unless forced where blood spilled prevented more of that.
The bishop was confused at the gesture, thinking she was mad or trying to signal a strike. He darted his eyes around, unaware he wasn’t safe in his church.
And panic finally settled in beyond his bravado of power when he saw that, while fear was a powerful tool on the weak, if they no longer feared, then he might be prey and not just the hunter. Yet even with that fear sparking moments before, an eerie calm settled within him. He was not an old fool and knew well that rats left to play will bite, and he knew how to stomp them away.
"You think you can touch me and walk away?" He carefully watched them all with those words, making sure they knew well he spoke truth. "My death would bring ash to this whole slum. The fact you dare think you can touch me will bring rot and pox beyond what already ails you." He became emboldened with those words as he went on, feeling his point was made.
He extended his hand—a fist to those in the slum and a worrying one at that—until he proved how little it meant with his next words. "Or have your whore queen kneel, and I may show mercy with a light beating just to her." Watching Vespera with those words, smiling in a cruel way only those in power could, he went on. "Since it’s that name which carries the most on their filthy lips, it is only right you learn she suffers for the disgrace in all your places."
"No," Vespera replied, plain and casually aloof. To her gait, she walked toward him, and he slowly stepped back against his will, unable to look away as she stared him down. "You will leave the same way you came, with nothing, and we will enjoy a better home and life with no light."
"For the darkness accepted us where you only saw blight."
The bishop was stunned and unsure what to say to that. He thought the change was madness—drinking rot water and suffering the blight, but embracing darkness itself? The goddess was right; proof of how low rats would go.
"I will get the guard and the knights; you will learn your place." As he stormed off, the people were unsure if it was a victory or delayed death.
"Wow, that’s some crazy shit." Terra emerged from the crowd as she pushed her way through. "Only caught the tail end. Would stab him and let him rot if it was me. Looks like you were trying to make a point." Terra hesitated a moment. "You were making a point, right?"
Vespera smiled in reassurance, not just to her friend but to all. "Yes, we can be better without being like them; we just have to slowly offer change." She looked among them, making sure she had their attention. "Jane was able to get us a home thanks to our method, not theirs."
"No shit?" Terra said, surprised. "Uh, where is it?" Jane ushered as many as she could inside; most were able to fit, but some remained outside waiting their turn. They offered to guard in case things went south till they got a chance to see it themselves.
The place was okay; it looked like an old tavern. She was used to middle-layer tavern things; they were clean and passable for common travelers. Here everything was near rotten, and she did not have high hopes for anything usable upstairs. But it was a start. They could fix and add things as they went. It was a roof and a place to feel free, even if only a little.
She was starting to feel worried; she had not addressed things with the guards and was unsure how much Seera had done.
"Relax, we don’t need to see that sour face. I talked to Seera; it was where I came from. She met with Bobby, and now she’s giving him some love. Why did we even get this place?" Terra said casually while she swiped the edge of a table, easily pooling dust on her hand as she wiped it back off on the side of her new tattered leather pants.
She was looking much better now. Her ebony skin had a nice glow now versus before when it was closer to pale ash, the grime hiding her true color. Her hair was much less greasy, almost shiny, and richer brown. She was healthier. Her eyes, which always looked full of life even in the worst of their rot days, now also seemed purer, cleaner, and brown, closer to fresh earth.
Was it the darkness’s blessing that gave so much? Or maybe she just could get some clean water to remove some grime and hold herself with more pride, knowing she was clean, so it just made her seem prettier among all the other people clinging to the rot sewers with no hope.
Vespera knew the darkness changed them, but she could not see herself. Well, refused to—she hated mirrors showing what she was becoming and had to do to survive. But the people she could find, every time she left and was able to compare to those who rejected the blessing of darkness or had not yet turned, it was harder not to see the shift in them too. So maybe it wasn’t just clean water allowing this.
Terra watched her staring and smiled. "Yeah, I got me a man too, and he treats me nice and doesn’t mind me making coin either. He thinks it’s nice a woman can make money, so I don’t mind sharing with his ass as long as he keeps kissing mine too." Terra laughed at her own joke, and Vespera could not help but laugh too.
It was nice to feel they could and not be forced to whisper or let a drunk rape or beat them for their pleasure.
That was the first thing she made sure she focused on fixing, and Terra agreed with her. Terra was the more zealous one who focused on killing in the shadows and liked to let them know why they should fear the sisters of the night.
When she first proposed the name, Vespera thought it was off; they were children of Abaddon, not night. But it was fine. A code name worked just as the goddess had code names for her light.
Jane finally got the crowd in order, saying if they wanted to stay, they needed to work; everything had a price, even their love. So those who could clean did; others gathered what non-rot wood or items they could use in the new home.
Jane finally felt she had made enough progress that she could talk with Vespera. "You think it will last?" Jane asked with concern etched on her face.
Vespera knew what she meant; the church wouldn’t take this quietly, and when the guards and knights did nothing, assuming their plans worked, the church wouldn’t wait patiently.
"We will do what we must, like we always do." Probably not the answer she wanted, but it was the best she could give. There were too many variables they could not control. Still, they needed to consolidate their power; they were spread thin trying to heal and help.
"Okay," Jane replied. "I keep trying to find more people to handle the details while you’re gone since you’ve got your own life, and the sisterhood is growing. We need to also help the other forgotten too." Jane trailed off, knowing it was a lot and wearing her down.
Vespera gently rubbed Jane’s arm. She took the time to really look at her now that things were settling. Jane’s hair looked a little better, still cropped short but not as dirty or rough-cut—she must have got it trimmed. Her skin, like Terra’s, seemed to be glowing a bit more; in Jane’s case, it was a clearer olive color versus the dirt she was accustomed to seeing. Her eyes were a little bluer and clearer. In the past, they seemed duller in contrast, as if blinded.
Now, seeing Jane clearly, she was sure the lord’s gift was why they were changing. She could not keep denying it anymore.
Things settled soon after into a steady peace as Vespera wondered about the ill omen of the bishop’s rant and threat. She hoped Seera would be fine; she could only do so much even with the help of her lord.
She felt him stir at that thought, and she smiled. It seemed she should not hold any doubt—he may not be controlling, but he was listening, and for now, it was enough.25Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnGirrhrw3Q
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