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    Ciaran Abbey


    Common Era 2766


    "Awaken, Daughter of Wohena, your time comes swiftly. Come to me. Find me."


    Gods that aches.


    Is that blood or dirt?


    Why do they insist on garish white?


    Gods, I hate this part.


    This is wrong. This can’t be the will of Wohena.


    lied to me! How many were innocents?" She shrieked at the Matron, the air in the chapel becoming electric.


    nothing!"


    A coiffed and powdered woman stared out through a stained glass scene, pensive. Matron Sylvie stood at the woman’s side, a slight smile playing on her lips as she puffed a pipe.


    "Another Saint your Grandness?" She said with confidence.


    "Indeed Sylvie, a young girl out in Ciaran bears the Gift of Wohena."


    Sylvie’s nose wrinkled. "Ciaran? That’s almost in Feichin! Wretched, backwater of a place."


    "You will oversee her."


    Sylvie nodded, biting into the stem of her pipe out of sheer irritation. She gathered the skirts of her silk habit, bowing to the woman.


    "And Sylvie? Try to keep this one alive longer. We need to wield fear in order to keep the creatures at bay and we can’t do that if you keep killing the weapons."


    Freedom.