You all, eventually, get up the hill. Though Lent is carrying Milly in their arms, and they glare at anyone who seems like they might ask why. You pass by the convent for now, knowing from asking around town that Cordelia is part of a church service that is about to end, here at the newer church attached to the convent itself.
The sun starts to set, and people finally begin to leave the church. Both more and less than you expected; it’s a small town, yes, but those you spoke to before really weren’t kidding about the connection to the Goddess here. The throng of believers glance at you a little, but most pay you no mind as they converse casually between each other, old ladies discussing overnight buns to knead, fisherman ready to turn in for the night before another early morning…
And when you’re finally able to push past and enter, the space is a peaceful one. The steps up to the chapel clack beneath your shoes; heavy stone? It’s scattered with seashells, likely from the coast just a few dozen metres away. Light cascades inside from the lowering sun, drawing lines through coloured glass and painting the floors with its hues. Pinks and blues and yellows dot your faces, but you’re not alone.
At the end of the chapel lays the altar, and a few steps before it where the choir heard before must stand during service. A young woman is there, humming lightly to herself as she cleans up the songbooks left astray on the pews. Her humming echoes against the stone and glass, so she doesn’t hear you until you get a bit closer. A simple nun’s habit cloaks her body, but wild peeks of hair can be seen even before she turns, unable to be contained by her head covering. And when she turns to look at you, it’s with a simple look of quiet duty, her hands meeting each other to clasp over her chest as she looks at you all. OST: https://youtu.be/UGTU1zPC1UM?si=ruzahLlBr9mpA0TJ
Lent doesn’t know if this is supposed to be this simple. I mean, sure, whatever the fuck just happened earlier made it seem less so. But there’s a gut feeling when the woman turns, and it’s… well, it’s no mirror image. Lent doesn’t quite look like other people. But still, there’s something there. They stand awkwardly between the pews, holding Milly close until she wants to take a seat.
“May I help you?” Her voice echoes, much like her song. “I must apologize, you missed the service…”
They feel like they should answer, but– “Milly, I’m setting you down here for a moment,” they whisper before placing her in a pew, squeezing her shoulder before looking back to the woman before them. Fuck, this is so … weird.
Lent clears their throat. “Uh.. wasn’t.. here for the service.” In fact, they don’t even like being in here. But they have to ask, right? “Are you Cordelia?”
“Yes?” She turns fully, walking over.
And it’s crossing the distance a little too fast for Lent’s liking, but if they don’t spit it out, they feel like Noel is going to. Just say it. Come on. “Then you’re my sister.”
Coughs awkwardly in the back like when it’s really quiet after a speech.