I Have Updated [Valerie's Story] Chapter 1: Omie Parts 1-6 (that's All Of Them) To Make Them Easier To

I have updated [Valerie's Story] Chapter 1: Omie parts 1-6 (that's all of them) to make them easier to read! You can now find links to all other parts at the bottom of each of the posts.

Happy reading!

-Winvyre

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

do you ever become obsessed with a character and you just go "of fucking course its that one" at yourself because you are so incredibly predictable

the writer’s urge to ask your friends “do you wanna see a little somethin’ i’ve been working on?” when the little somethin’ you’ve been working on is 800 words and ends in the middle of a sentence

[Valerie's Story] Chapter 1: Omie (3/6)

It's the first day of spring: Omie's Festival day. Normally around this time there's still snow deep enough for the watchmen to need to clear the streets since we live in the Northern part of the Forest Region but this year the most we ever got was a few inches that melted a couple days later. And that was in the heart of winter. It’s odd.

Everyone’s festival outfits have furs and thick fabrics so they’re all wearing nice summer clothes instead which means a lot less red is present. It’s nice to see the rainbow in the square from my bedroom window even though the festival day feeling sorta relies on all the red. At least the pennant banners with Omie’s symbol and the hearthbloom wreaths hung all over the village are red.

This dress is my favorite. It’s lavender (my favorite color), off the shoulder like Omie’s though not as deep of a neckline, with long flowy sleeves and small butterfly embroidery all around the cuffs and bottom hem. The skirt hangs just past my knees so I can still run around in it and there is noticeable stitch work in a few places because it gets torn when I’m playing in the woods and Mom has to fix it. The biggest one came from getting caught on a branch when I fell from a tree. That’s why she gave me my vest. It’s brown and laces up in the front and it’s long enough to protect most of the skirt. The belt has a large silver buckle the same shade as my eyes which is why I picked it.

I guess the whole point of the festival is moot now because the winter was so unusual. We’re supposed to be thanking Omie for protecting us through the winter and keeping our houses warm. Oh well. The Believers will find some other reason to celebrate. I’m here for the games and the food!

Before any of the fun stuff happens we have to wait for the special service to be over. Today most people will congregate in the Megachurch in the capital, some of our neighbors will too, but Archfell is pretty isolated so our main temple will be at capacity. It’s got some nice stained glass windows but other than that it’s what Maurin would call “art deficient.” He’d also say “It’s like they think having three thousand candles makes up for how barren the walls are.” He would know, too. He counted. I wish he were here.

The temple isn’t the only place with candles today. Every booth has at least a few candles waiting to be lit. The exceptions are the candle-selling booths for obvious reasons and the booths run by the most devout of Omie’s Believers; they have a lot. They're usually the same booths anyway. According to the religion, the candles represent our hope and faith as a guiding light through dark times. There's a story about Omie arriving in a plagued, famished village and lighting all the candles with her holy energy. That story is the reason why Holywood, also named after the story, is the capital of the Forest Region and why the Megachurch is located there.

Francesca and I loiter outside the temple, listening in. The priest’s voice is muffled but I can still make out most of the words. “Benevolent Omie, uplift the lowest and alleviate their suffering.” Fran’s waiting for the watchman from the docks to exit so she can pretend to run into him. Mom says she's at that age where some kids start thinking about romance and to indulge her a little bit. That's why I'm here. She's too scared to talk to him alone. He's only two years older than her which is how much older she is from Kell. It shouldn't be that hard. Is that what I’m going to be like in three years?

“Gentle Omie,” the priest says, “care for us, show your love to the loveless, put our hearts and our minds at ease so that we may celebrate today.” Francesca's pacing. It's almost the end. “Let us recite ‘Our Lady.’”

The church goers chorus:

“Our Lady, Our Lady

Dressed in all red

The color of Hearth

The sufferers bled

Our Lady, Our Lady

She came from the sky

To help the unfortunate

And mend why they cry

Our Lady, Our Lady

Champion of Home

She takes care of us

We are never alone

Our Lady, Our Lady

We kneel and revere

We dance and we sing

Because you are here.”

I’ve never witnessed any other religious services but the Hearth Immortal’s worship has gotta be one of the most boring. How it became the most widespread is a mystery to me.

The temple doors open. Fran jumps and adjusts the pastel blue hair bow tying off her dark braid. She did it herself and is very proud of it. People pour out, ready to start the festivities. The first teens I see are Fran’s classmates she sometimes hangs out with. They look her up and down with an amused sort of disgust then snicker amongst themselves. She blushes and hides her face. What was that about?

The watchman is one of the last people to leave. “I can’t do it!” Fran whines.

“Just do it already! He’s leaving!”

“No! He’ll hate me! He probably already does!”

“Have you ever spoken to him?”

“Not directly…”

“Then why would he hate you? I’d understand if he’d actually met you-”

“Hey!” Fran’s nose scrunches up and her eyebrows furrow. I watch the watchman finish his conversation with an older couple before he starts walking again. This is stupid.

“Hey, watchman.”

“Yes?”

“Are you single?”

Fran rushes to my side, “I’m so sorry about her, she’s just goofing around.” she smiles nervously, dragging me back to our hiding spot.

“Any particular reason you wanted to know?” the watchman asks good-naturedly.

“My sister likes you.” I say without hesitation. Fran lets go of my arm to cover her face again as she sprints away. “Uh oh.” I think I messed up. “Disregard that. I have to go now.”

I find Francesca crying behind the temple. “Why would you do that?!”

“I was trying to help.”

“You didn’t help me, you just embarrassed me! The other girls are never going to let me hear the end of it. My life is over!”

“Fran-”

“Go away, Valerie!”

I back up, bumping into Mom. “What’s wrong?”

“I told Fran’s crush that she liked him and now she won’t talk to me.” I point to Fran curled in on herself on the ground.

“She just needs some time to calm down. You overstepped her boundaries and upset her. She didn’t ask you to confess for her so it wasn’t your information to tell. I’ll stay with her, you can apologize later.”

Oh. “Okay.”

Mom sits down next to Fran and I go to meet Kell at our rendezvous point: the spinning top stand.

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Channeling Ebony in that outfit description lol Half way through... buckle up!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[Valerie's Story] Chapter 1: Omie (1/6)

“Valerie, you are on sweeping duty today.”

“But I’m always on sweeping duty!”

“This is history that we are preserving,” The old lady smiles, “Careless hands…”

“Doom the world.” I begrudgingly take the broom. I’m ten years old, not an idiot. My older siblings are already at work maintaining foliage and restoring art. Well, two of them. Even with Maurin missing I’m still stuck with the broom.

For as long as I can remember, Bernadette has dragged us to Omie’s temple on the sea cliff once per month to help her keep it from falling into ruin. To be honest, it’s already pretty ruined.

It’s a small building, especially when compared to other temples in the region, about the size of a sloop. There’s no door; I don’t think there ever was. Faded murals run along the inside but you can’t see the entire picture because parts of the walls are missing. The arch roof caved in before I was even born and when you walk through to Omie’s statue on the other side, there’s a specific path you have to take to avoid cutting your foot or falling through the floor. The back is open so ocean spray keeps the back side of the statue permanently damp. Plants grow through every crack and hole, wrapping around pillars and obscuring the details in the white stone.

We’re the only ones who ever come up here if you don't count the teromynies, rabbits, or many, many insects. They’re going to be worse this summer because winter was so short. Omie’s worshippers mostly attend the Megachurch in the capital. No one cares about a shrine in an outskirt village that even the locals have forgotten. Bernadette is an exception. She probably lives here. She talks about Omie like she created humanity.

I kick up dust near Omie’s feet. She’s twice as tall as our mom and looks a lot like her. Mom has long, curly hair so blonde it’s almost white kept out of her face by a bandana. Omie has the same style but a much more elegant headband. She wears an off-the-shoulder dress with a collar low enough that her hands clasped over her heart touch her bare chest. Her downturned head makes it seem like she’s looking at you but her eyes are always closed. Bernadette says that Omie’s watching over us.

I hope she’s watching over Maurin. It’s too quiet here without him. Usually he’d be cleaning the grime off the statue but since he’s gone Bernadette’s doing it. The only other person she lets touch Omie is him.

When I’ve swept every part of the temple Bernadette hands me six red candles to place at Omie’s feet. I’m not allowed to light them, though. Bernadette sets her cane against the wall and hobbles through the temple with a thurible, muttering to herself. She’s not praying. That old lady might treat Omie like Francesca treats the young watchman stationed by the docks but she’s not a Believer. The candles light on their own when she’s done. Witch magic is uncanny.

I scan the mural on the right wall. It shows various images of Omie interacting with humanity. Healing the injured, officiating weddings and blessing babies, singing and dancing in a large group. We do the same dance during Omie’s Festival accompanied by a song that she apparently wrote. Kell hangs up the red banner with Omie’s symbol, a human heart made of fire, that fell off the middle pillar.

The left mural is more about how Omie fits into the Six Immortals. It depicts things that they did together like establishing the United Regions, Demon's Lock, and taming dragons. Modern temples are built to hold service but this one, like most older temples, was built to foster a personal connection with its deity. There are no pews and no altar, just stories up to interpretation.

Francesca peeks through one of the holes in the wall, “I finished trimming the bushes.”

“Good. Kell, Valerie, help Francesca pick the hearthblooms.” Bernadette gathers her things.

I can't look at the flowers without feeling nauseous. They remind me too much of him. “If the wreaths are so important why don’t the other villagers grow hearthblooms themselves?” I cross my arms. “Why are we the ones who always have to do it? For once it’s actually warm enough to go swimming in early spring and we’re stuck making wreaths!”

“C’mon, Valerie, don’t be like that. We all want to go swimming but these flowers aren’t going to crown themselves.” Kell offers a smile.

“Well said, Kell. We have responsibilities that we must uphold. Supplying the festival with hearthbloom wreaths is one of them.”

“Guts! Why are you so obsessed with Omie? You’re not even religious! You-“

“Valerie, that is enough. I have my reasons. You would not understand.”

“Because you never explain anything to us! It’s always ‘Time to visit the temple,’ ‘Be careful around the statue,’ ‘Omie watches over you!’ We know nothing about you aside from the fact you’re friends with our mom. You just show up every once in a while to gush about your celebrity crush then disappear again. I witness enough of parasocial relationships when Francesca rambles about that stupid watchman!”

“Hey, I love him!”

“He doesn’t even know who you are!”

“It’s true love!”

“That’s dumb!”

“I’m going to marry him one day!”

“You’re an idiot! All of you suck! I want Maurin back!”

Silence. “And there it is.” Bernadette mumbles. “Why don’t the two of you head home? We can visit Graciela later.”

Francesca and Kell take one last glance over their shoulders before descending the hill. Fran’s face scrunches in anger. She tosses her hair and leaves with her nose in the air. Kell’s eyes dart between me and the witch worriedly but he still follows.

I can’t stop shaking. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying but tears have already blurred my vision. Bernadette is a colorful blob as she cups my cheek with her hand. I swat her away when her thumb sweeps across my skin. There is an energy burning inside me and I’m not sure if I can keep it in there.

“Maybe nothing I say will ease your pain but just know that it is okay to feel this way. Your grief is valid in whatever form it takes.”

A sound catches in my throat and I feel that ember surge. “GUTS!” I whip around and punch the tree behind me, regretting my decision immediately as I buckle, cradling my fist as the sobs break through my throat.

Bernadette gently takes my hand in hers, “It is broken. Let us get you to Oakley.”

When Mom sees my sorry state through the window of the healing room, she rushes to the door. “Goodness! What happened?”

“I can heal it myself.” I grumble.

“This is too severe for you, darling. Now, tell me, what did you do?”

“I hit a tree.” I take a seat at the dining table with my lip out.

Mom sighs. “Fran said that you’ve been having some big feelings, is that right?” She definitely didn’t say it that nicely. I nod. “You miss Maurin, don’t you?”

I feel the tears return but the ember is finished. “Yeah.” I choke.

“The Crown is doing everything they can to bring the missing children home. We’re all sad, we’re all scared,” Mom’s glistening eyes meet mine, “But we have to have faith. Your brother… is okay. He’s smart and he’s strong. We’ll all be reunited soon.” She lets go of my hand, now all better. “I have to get back to my other patients. Please, go with Bernadette and finish the wreaths.” Mom goes back to the sitting-room-turned-workshop, leaving us to return to the temple.

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Hello! Winvyre here. I thank you for your faith and patience even when I have nothing to show for my progress so to express my gratitude I will be posting the entirety of this draft's [Valerie's Story] chapter one on my page today in segments scheduled to upload on the hour. Stay tuned and please feel free to ask questions!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6