Gotha's Embrace Day 02: Sophie's Session

Author's Note: This is the second chapter of my series of the Goth'a monastery and its inhabitants. This chapter is told from the perspective of Sophie, and takes place on the 2 ^nd day of the group's arrival. Do note that things are still a bit slow but will pick up. As a word of warning, there is also some mild incest content. If you have not done so, please read Day 1 Ashley's Arrival to better understand the context of what follows. Otherwise, enjoy!

Day 2 Sophie's Session

Church bells tolled steadily in the distance, but their incessant ringing was like the cawing of crows circling overhead. I turned and stuffed my pillow over my head in an attempt to suppress the noise, but it only made the reverberations penetrate deeper into my brain. Groaning, I flipped over again and slowly blinked my eyes open. The overcast sky beyond my window was filled with low, dense clouds, dimming the approaching dawn in grayish tones, while the tolling of the bells continued to hammer into my skull repeatedly, refusing to stop. Falling asleep again was out of the question.

With a sigh, I threw off the fraying blankets and got out of bed, but instinctively withdrew as my feet touched the cold wooden floor. Groaning again and resolving myself, I stood up in the chill with nothing but my nightgown, and quickly scampered over to the dresser in search of something warmer to wear. Within, I spied the thicker bathrobe I had unpacked last night next to some of my other clothes, along with a spotless monastery-provided habit neatly folded in one corner. Grabbing my towel and a small plastic pouch that contained my toothbrush and other toiletries, I exited my room to make the trek over the icy floors to the bathrooms, all the while admonishing myself for not packing along some warm slippers. Noticing Veronika's and Isabella's closed doors as I crossed the hall, I was again reminded of the fact that I now shared a dormitory space with two others, and although we did each have our own rooms, it did make me miss the comfort and privacy of my own home.

As I stepped onto the even icier linoleum floor of the bathroom, I heard the sound of falling water from one of the showers, the steam rising from behind a nearby stall obscured by filmy curtains. Not wanting to disturb the occupant within, I rushed across the room into one of the further stalls, where I took off my robes and folded them neatly into a corner. I twisted at the metal knob on the wall, its surface dull and leaden, and was pleasantly surprised by the hot water springing forth from overhead to bathe me in delightful warmth. At least the water boiler seems to be in good working order, I thought appreciatively. Warm mist floated upwards around me as the soothing currents flowed over my body, and I let out a contended sigh.

The repetitive patter of splashing water droplets was almost hypnotic, lulling me into a contemplative reminiscence of my current circumstance. Over the past week, I had left my small peaceful town of Levingham in the UK to travel to this place, somewhere in the remote mountains of Romania, all at the behest of my loving husband, Henry. The itinerary had involved two flights, a train, and finally a long and wearisome bus ride which had been anything but smooth, but here I was, safe and sound, exactly where I needed to be. I had never ventured so far from home alone before, and so had been quite nervous of this trip in particular, but the hospitality and kindness offered to me along my path had cheered me greatly, and by the end, I had become quite confident and relaxed in my solitude. It seemed my natural politeness and affable cordiality had once again served me well, after all.

Now at the culmination of my journey, I was again reminded of the sequence of events that had led me here in the first place. It all began when a recent spate of local scandals surrounding the Catholic Church had emerged in our town. Henry, my husband, being the respected local pastor that he was, had been the first to come to the Church's defense, steadfastly believing the righteousness of his institution. Yet the rumours had persisted; and what had originally started as vague whispers of wayward leaders had with mounting evidence, become allegations of much more serious abuses, eventually erupting into full blown outrage within the span of only a few months. Henry had been caught in the middle of it, trying to assuage hurts and calm hearts on all sides, but I knew the ordeal weighed on him heavily.

The last straw came when a university student within our own community had confessed to being sexually assaulted by one of the more prominent figures within the Church, and the revelation had devastated our idyllic hamlet. Coincidentally at the same time, a new religion, only known as the Faith of Goth'a, had spread like wildfire throughout our neighborhood, catching on like dry kindling in a blaze. The timing was almost too perfect, as people turned away from the Catholic order in droves, disgusted at the manner in which the older faith was keener on protecting its power than caring for its followers. Even my husband, Henry, pious and dedicated as he was, had finally reached his breaking point. Deciding that enough was enough, he ultimately renounced the Church he had dedicated himself so faithfully to his entire life, and converted to the mysterious new worship. The Goth'a priests, upon seeing how Henry's experience could benefit them, had then quickly ordained my husband as their new envoy to the community, and Henry had gladly accepted.

All that was to say, I had been caught in a whirlwind of sorts. The Goth'a Faith were quick to assert their control, asking much of Henry in organizing and establishing their newfound congregation almost immediately. He had spent much of the next few months busy at work, barely at home, as if driven by a renewed sense of purpose. I think in a way, he blamed himself for the transgressions of the Catholic Church under his watch, especially given how it had wounded his community, and this was his attempt at making amends. I had a been a local community organizer when all of this had started, a role I had taken up ever since our two boys had left for university, but increasingly, I found myself more and more involved with organizing Henry's schedule, planning his trips, meals, and other meetings as he busied himself day and night within his new position. Then on a fateful night not more than two months ago, Henry had suddenly asked me to take a trip to Romania for him, as a heartfelt favor.

Initially, I had been a little hesitant, to say the least. Henry explained that the Faith required so much from him lately that he didn't have the time to make the journey. It was supposed to be a two-month excursion, and was only offered to a select few newly-converted as a means of introduction and appreciation, to show how much the Goth'a Faith treasured our membership. I had wondered if I was even eligible to go, but Henry had insisted that I would be more than welcome; in fact, he explained, the retreat had been repurposed as a convent, and hence more suitable for female guests anyway. He had mentioned how the Faith was trying to cater to a more diverse audience recently, and the first task on the agenda was to balance its gender representation. After much back and forth, I reluctantly agreed that I would do this for him, and the rest is history.

I was brought out of my recollections as the water splashing about me started to turn lukewarm. Deciding it was about time to finish showering anyway, I grabbed my towel, turning off the water in the process, and started to dry myself off as I exited the stall. Approaching the sinks, I noticed my neighboring shower was already empty, my fellow bather having finished and left without me even realizing. It was too bad; I had been wondering who it had been, but I supposed it wasn't that important anyway. Instead, I turned to examine myself in the mirror. What I saw was a middle-aged woman with a slightly rounded face, boasting a mixed complexion of faded freckles on ruddy skin, all framed by a set of unfurling auburn locks dripping with a dark shade of wetness. Her hair reached only a little above her shoulders in cascading twirls, while her cheeks, flush from the shower, glowed beneath soft brown eyes only slightly creased about the corners. She didn't look half bad, if I had to say so myself. I had always been described as pretty, maybe not drop-dead gorgeous, but lovely in that familiar sort of way.

After brushing my teeth and applying a bit makeup to sharpen my features, I went back to my room to get ready for the day. Putting on a nondescript bra that hugged my large bust (having twins will do that to you) and a pair of classic gray briefs around my curvy waist, I debated on what to wear. Finally deciding to attempt at least a good first impression, I opted for the monastery habit provided for me, although I left the coif alone. The long black robe was surprisingly comfortable, and definitely allowed for a good range of movement.

After putting on my sandals, I left the domiciles and descended the stairs, trying to remember the directions to the cathedral. The network of warren-like corridors was a literal maze, and after puzzling through the turns at each intersection, I was finally able to arrive at the back of the vaulted chamber, quite amazed that I had done so at all. I wasn't the first, however; Sister Isabella was already seated at the front, along with the rest of the Goth'a congregation, whispering amongst themselves. As I walked down the aisle to take a seat, my eyes surreptitiously wandered upwards to behold the marvelous stained-glass windows hanging over one side of the hall. They had captured my attention almost immediately yesterday upon my entry. Yet one particular image stood out to me; it was pieced together from shards of dazzling colors, forming the image of a woman, arms outstretched, with two younger men looking up at her in devotion. If I had to guess, it was a depiction of the biblical Rebekah and her two sons, Jacob and Esau. But what struck me was the way her loving gaze wandered over her two children, seeming to linger on them both, the tenderness of it reminding me a little of my own two boys. Thomas and Sean. They were twins, but their personalities couldn't have been more different; Sean was a bit of an introvert, constantly absorbed within his books and games, while Thomas, outgoing and sociable, was an unrepentant prankster, but always cunning and crafty enough to escape any unfavorable situation. They were the two pillars of my life, and I loved them both dearly, and when they had gone off to university, their departure had carved out a certain emptiness within my heart.

So engrossed in my thoughts was I, that I didn't notice someone emerge from behind me until the figure was almost an arm's length away. I nearly jumped out of my habit in surprise when I felt a light tap on my shoulder, turning only to see Veronika giving me a questioning look. It was then that I noticed with some embarrassment that I had taken up most of the aisle so that she couldn't pass. Smiling apologetically, I moved slightly to one side.

"Oh! Hello dear! I'm sorry I didn't notice you earlier." I offered her a handshake, which she scowled at as if I was handing her a viper. "I'm Sophie Lancaster, I don't think we've formally met. Veronika Poletov, is it? It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Veronika stood there silently, as if weighing her options. Her angular face, complete with prominent cheekbones and highly defined brows, outlined her face in startling caricature. Her keen eyes, upturned in that foxlike fashion, coolly regarded me in a well of azure blue. She was wearing a tight-fitting black cardigan with white buttons over snug black leggings, all of which accentuated her sleek body and coiled muscles, evidence of the girl's remarkable physical shape. Finally, after much deliberation, she took my hand in hers, surprising me with a tight grip despite her lithe frame.

"Good to meet you," she greeted me in a heavy Russian accent.

Inspired by her response, I tried to make polite conversation. "How was your morning? I was woken up by that dreadfully loud tolling. I hope that it won't become a mainstay of our time here." I threw a disarming smile in her direction, which didn't seem to affect her in the slightest.

"It was OK."

"I didn't quite catch where you were from yesterday. Kolstov, or Rolstov, or...?"

"Rostov."

"Right, Rostov. Sorry, I haven't ever really been to Russia myself, so my geography isn't the best. I heard you were here because of your university?"

"That is correct."

"Oh, why did they send you here?"

"To study."

"Oh, alright." Thankfully at this point, I saw Father Gregory making his way to the front of the Church, glad that I had an excuse to end this painfully awkward exchange. "It seems Father Gregory has arrived. I suppose morning prayer will commence momentarily. I'll talk to you later, then?"

"OK. No problem. Bye." As she turned away, her flowing blonde hair, tied in a long shimmering ponytail that reached down to the small of her back, lashed out from behind her in a wide arc, barely missing my face. I could already tell she was going to be a cheery one to be around.

At the front of the hall, Father Gregory was already starting his sermon as he took his place in front of a sturdy stone lectern. Before I closed my eyes in prayer, however, I noticed a meek Seo-Yeon discreetly making her way towards the front of the hall, tiptoeing along and trying to appear as tiny as possible. Ashley, however, didn't seem to have appeared at all. Mother Prosperine is really not going to like that, I thought sadly, already feeling sorry for the poor girl. She seemed like such a sweet and misunderstood thing, clearly out of her element in this place, and I wagered that her even being here was probably not by personal choice. She hadn't exactly been ecstatic yesterday during introductions.

Given my familiarity with daily Church proceedings, I found Father Gregory's morning prayer to be a pretty ordinary affair. He spoke of the glory of the Lord, the moral teachings that we should all try to adhere to, and many other common topics that were typical of religious discourse. The only aspect that gave me pause was the strange utterance that Father Gregory intoned at the end of his sermon; "Goth'a Vulgtmah." I had never heard that particular phrase before, not even back home with Henry, and it made me feel a bit queasy in response. The word Goth'a I understood meant God in some ancient dialect, as I had been told, but the second, almost, garbled mockery of a word was truly bizarre. To be honest, it sounded almost alien, and I resolved to ask Father Gregory about it sometime later.

Following prayer, we made our way to the dining hall. I walked behind the rest of the group alongside Seo-Yeon, who kept her head down and was as quiet as a mouse, keen on trying to remain invisible. I knew she was probably nervous from being alone in an entirely new country, consigned to a completely unfamiliar environment, and surrounded by strangers that seemed more aloof than caring. I didn't know if it was just the motherly nature in me, but I desperately wanted to make her feel secure, more at home, something I thought that Mother Prosperine should have been more responsible for. As if sensing my concern, Seo-Yeon looked up at me and smiled weakly.

"How are you doing, Seo-Yeon?" I asked, trying to encourage her to come out of her shell just a little bit.

"Hi... yes. I am doing well. Sorry, your name... I forgot... Sophie?" Her voice was soft and hesitant.

"Yes, that's me, Sophie!" I placed a hand on my chest. "Don't be shy, dear. It looks like we might as well get along, seeing as how we're going to be stuck with each other for the next month or two. It must have been difficult, travelling so far alone? Where are your parents?"

"Yes... it was... difficult. Sorry, my English is not so good." She shook her head apologetically. "My parents, they are back in Korea. They wanted me to come and... study about religion. I heard the religion... Goth'a? Very popular now in Korea."

"Oh, I hadn't known it had spread that far!" I looked at her in surprise. "It has become quite popular back home for me as well. I guess that's why we're all here, to try to learn something about this new religion that's apparently taken the world by storm. It's interesting that they've invited an all-female group though. Maybe it's because we're all just so much easier to manipulate," I joked.

Seo-Yeon, however, seemed to have entirely missed the intention of my jest. "Oh! I don't think so. I think they just want us to feel welcome."

"Oh, I know, dear. Don't worry. Anyways, while we're here, if you have anything you need help with, don't hesitate to come find me. I'd be delighted to help."

"Oh! Sure! Thank you!" She exclaimed happily, bowing slightly, as we rounded the final corner to the dining hall. "You are very nice, Sophie."

Feeling quite accomplished, I took a seat at the end of one of the two wooden benches spanning the dining room, beside Veronika. Gray light was filtering in from the surrounding high-placed windows, the sun clearly unable to break through the heavy overcast clouds that still lingered upon the mountainside. The atmosphere was dreary and heavy, as if the entire monastery was under an oppressive weight. The simple bread and butter, similarly laid out like yesterday amongst bowls of clumpy porridge and leafy greens, did not improve the mood. I resigned myself with a sigh as I sat down to eat what I hoped would not be a daily reoccurring fare.

Halfway through my breakfast, I saw Mother Prosperine enter the room with a glum-looking Ashley in tow. Clearly the young girl had had a talking-to, judging by her sulky stares and shuffling gait. She was wearing a cute saffron V-neck blouse with a fashionable flared knee-length skirt, which seemed at odds with both her mood and the dour surroundings. After taking her leave of the older woman, she made her way over to our table and took the seat opposite from me.

"I hate this place." The words plopped out of her in the same manner that she plopped onto her seat.

I've had my share of sullen teenagers, and I knew responding immediately would probably elicit an angry response. Even though Ashley wasn't quite a teenager anymore, she still had all the trademarks of one. Still, I couldn't entirely blame her. I, too, had been young once, after all. Maybe it was just my nature to be empathetic and to try to see the optimistic side of everything, but my philosophy had always been that life was too short for one to focus on unhappiness. There was so much more to appreciate in the world, if one would only look for it. I didn't try to engage Ashley, knowing that she needed some time to cool her head. Instead, I spread some butter over a piece of bread and offered it to her. She took it without a word. Silently I scooped a bowl of porridge and pushed it over as well.

While Ashley was still bearing down on her breakfast, I took the opportunity to get a word in. "You know, Ashley, this is going to sound trite and clichéd, but I know what you're going through. No, don't roll your eyes. I know I probably sound like a tired, nagging mother, but that's exactly what I am! I have two sons, you see, not much older than you are, and let me tell you, when they get worked up, they go through the same motions, and I've seen it all before."

Ashley watched me silently, her remarkable green eyes still slightly clouded with fatigue. Overall, despite her sullen appearance, she still managed to look quite pretty.

I breathed out steadily. "What I'm trying to say is that, I know it sucks. I know you're probably not here because you wanted to be. And I know you're about to say something sarcastic." Ashley gulped back a response. I smiled. "The real question is, what are you going to do about it? You can sulk and mope and bitch..." Ashley raised her eyebrows at my language, clearly not expecting it out of someone who could have been her mother, "... or you can roll up your sleeves and face your resentment. Not everyone here is as cold-hearted or as uncaring," I looked pointedly at Seo-Yeon sitting beside her, who gaped back at me, "and you could perhaps even enjoy some of our company, if you'd just take the time to look around."