Sileny looked at Pétur as if she was sizing him up. He was wearing loose-fitting pants that were dyed the color of dark earth. The pants were fixed in place by a woven sash tied to his left hip. It looked more like a flattened rope than a proper belt. His untucked shirt was primarily white except for v-shaped designs, which decorated the collar and neckline. Pétur’s shirt had a pattern comprised of converging zigzags which formed white diamonds and dots surrounded by pale red and orange triangles. Golden-brown threads trimmed the design connecting the neckline to the collar. The colors were standard for younger Monsans as they represented the sun rising from the mountains.

“Do I have something on my shirt?” Pétur embarrassingly asked, confused by Sileny’s gaze.

With an authoritative tone, Sileny crowed, “So you are Pétur, the daydreamer.”

“Wait, what?” Pétur puzzled.

“And Pétur, the layabout,” Sileny retorted.

“I am not!” insisted Pétur.

Sileny smiled and teased, “Ah, we mustn’t forget the most important one. Pétur, the boy who is most definitely not allowed anywhere near the sea.”

Pétur’s anxiety spiked sharply. “Did my mother tell you that?”

“No, but you just did.” Sileny provokingly smiled.

Pétur’s frustration caused him to blurt out, “You do not know what you are ….”

Sileny interrupted Pétur by gently grabbing his hands. “We mustn’t lie to one another if we are going to be friends.” Sileny smiled while quietly looking into Pétur’s eyes. They both shared a moment of stillness before Sileny’s cheeks slightly reddened. She released Pétur’s hands and quickly turned away from him. Sileny coyly walked a few steps forward, keeping her back to him as she composed herself. “I will prove everything I said is true. What is my name?”

Pétur stuttered, making a guttural, “uh” sound.

Sileny spun around as if she had made some great revelation that Pétur was unaware of at the moment. “You do not know because you were daydreaming when we met.” 

He nervously nodded in agreement.

She took a step closer to him. “Yesterday, I swept and scrubbed the floor of this entire church. What chores did you do yesterday?” Sileny smugly prodded.

“I, um, didn’t exactly do chores yesterday.” Pétur coyly mumbled.

“That is because you were off staring at the water and playing with your wolf cub. In other words, you were lying about.”

“How could you even know that?” Pétur stammered in bewilderment.

“I am asking the questions here, Pétur.” Sileny took another step closer to him in pure excitement.

Pétur began getting nervous. He did not know what to expect from this girl, and he was still trying to wrap his mind around the handholding that had happened moments ago.

“And most importantly, how did you end up here under my charge if not for upsetting your poor mother with all this talk of fishing and the sea?” Sileny struggled to get the words out without laughing.

In a defeated tone, Pétur sighed. “I guess you’re right.” He hung his head down and said, “Can you just tell me what my chores are.”

Sileny reached out and gently touched the side of his arm. Softly she spoke, “Hey, don’t do that. I was only teasing you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Pétur. I really do want to be your friend, and if it makes you feel better, we both can be in charge.” Sileny extended her hand confidently, announcing, “I am Sileny.”

Pétur looked up and smiled. In a slower, inquisitive tone, Pétur inquired, “You’re not really in charge, are you?”

Sileny chuckled. “Nope! I am a slave like the rest of this village.”

Pétur laughed.

Sileny looked up into his emerging gaze “So, friends?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” Pétur smiled as a warming feeling filled his heart. The newly formed sensation grew, almost driving him to tears. He had never had a friend before other than Wilk.

Sileny lightly poked his stomach. “Good. I am glad. I didn’t have any friends either growing up.”

Pétur was unaccustomed to this level of physical contact and playfulness. In Monsan culture, public affection was highly taboo and viewed as the corrupting influence of the moon. He dismissed his conflicting feelings to get back to the task at hand. “What will our chores be?”

“Each day, we will have the same chores. Mucking the privy is first in the morning. Sweeping and scrubbing the floors after that. Cleaning and polishing the candle holders and various other shiny things. Lastly, we replace and light the evening prayer candles.” Sileny emitted as if she was forcing it from memory.

“Every day?” Pétur panicked.

“Every single day.” Sileny sighed disappointingly. “Oh, and anything else the Kaplan tells us to do.”

 Pétur groaned.

“Look at it this way. If we don’t do it, people will stop coming to church, probably from the smell of the privy overflowing. We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Sileny jested.

“No. I suppose not.” Pétur uncharacteristically reflected on his thoughts for a moment. “Although would that be such a bad thing? People could reclaim their time normally devoted to the church.”

Sileny delighted in his question. “By Áki, I could not agree more!” With little warning, she boldly locked arms with Pétur causing him to blush. “Come on. Let me show you all the parts of the church that no one knows about!” Dragging him along, Sileny made her way down a hallway to begin the makeshift tour.

***

Weeks had passed like hours, much to Pétur’s surprise. Lost in his thoughts, Pétur found himself thinking about Sileny. The very notion of having a friend felt like magic to him. It was an impossibility less than a month ago, yet now all the world seemed sunlit, and rainbow kissed. He despised working for the Kaplan but spending time with Sileny took all the bitterness out of the experience. She was intelligent, funny, and unlike anyone he knew. Sileny genuinely enjoyed Pétur’s company, unlike other young people Pétur’s age. He was always a bit of a pariah given his mixed heritage and the challenges of Monsan religious views. Pétur loved talking to Sileny about the ocean and asked her all sorts of questions. Sileny seemed to know the answer to everything. For those rare times when she didn’t have an explanation, Sileny created fantastic stories to illuminate the unknowable. Pétur wondered about what adventures they could have if they could only get a day off from the church.

“And then Vadim caused the Jabłka tree to grow, which is how our ancestors survived the first winter.” The Kaplan paused as he noticed Pétur daydreaming. “Pétur.” The Kaplan broke again. “Pétur!” The Kaplan waited once more. Out of patience, the Kaplan yelled, “Intolerable!” He took a Jabłka fruit from his pocket and threw it at Pétur’s head. 

Moments before it collided with Pétur, a familiar hand caught the large red fruit. The sound it made snapped Pétur from his trancelike state wherein he saw Sileny’s hand in front of his face. Pétur, stunned, stumbled back a few steps.

“How did you know I had not had breakfast yet? Thanks, Kaplan, for the apple.” Sileny spoke with a cheerful and underhanded tone.

“Where did you come from, girl?” hissed the Kaplan.

“The other end of the hall. Where else would I come from,” she said with a smirk.

“None of your tricks today. I haven’t the patience for you or Mr. Sila’s foolishness.” The Kaplan eyed Sileny in distrust.

Sileny smiled, speaking formally, “Of course, Kaplan. I am ever your obedient ….”

Interruptingly, the Kaplan raised his voice’s volume. “Enough twaddle girl.”

Sileny nodded slightly in silence. She then rebelliously took a large and noisy bite of her Jabłka fruit. She chewed it obnoxiously, earning a side glance from Pétur.

“And since we are on the subject, it is not a common apple. The Jabłka is a sacred mountain apple. It is robust, containing more nutrients than an apple. The proof of this is in the sharper taste and lack of sweetness. It symbolizes the bitterness of life and the ability to overcome adversity.” Kaplan Rufa continued for a moment while demonizing sweets as the food of lazy fools.

“You are right Kaplan. This Jabłka is more acidic than other fruit. I can taste the bitterness and will overcome it.” Sileny glared back at the Kaplan.

“Enough!” yelled the Kaplan, who had become enflamed with Sileny’s defiance. “Go purify yourself by mucking the privy. Maybe cleaning the filth of others will teach you some humility.”

“But Kaplan, we already did that this morning,” Pétur softly pointed out.

The Kaplan, turning to Pétur, thunderously yelled, “Then you will muck it again! Now go! The both of you!” He turned his back and walked towards his office, accompanied by a disorderly door slamming.

“Sileny, why do you have to irritate him so much?” Pétur sincerely asked.

“He is fun to irritate,” Sileny said with a smile, only to be met with a doubting glare from Pétur. “He carries himself as if he personally knows Vadim. His whole worldview is ridiculous. He calls Vadoma the crazy one, and he behaves like that when he does not get obedience. That man prays to an absurd deity and houses a church of fools!”

Pétur froze from fear. “You shouldn’t say that. What if the Kaplan is right and Vadim can actually hear you?”

“Really, Pétur?” Sileny looked at him with doubt and frustration. “Vadim can kiss the broadside of Zale’s backside! All Vadim does is makeup lies. Anything he cannot control, he calls evil and sends forth zealots to eradicate it from the face of Krása. You have no idea what Vadim has done or how he demonizes others to justify his holy wars.”

“Sileny? Are you ok?” Pétur worried for his friend, having never seen her so hurt or angry before. 

Sileny ignored Pétur’s concern. “He is a ridiculous deity. If Vadim was as powerful as the Kaplan claims, why not come smite me too?” She paused for dramatic effect while looking at a bewildered Pétur. “Because he can’t! He is worthless!”

“What are you talking about? None of what you say makes sense. Our ancestors have been faithful to Vadim for hundreds of years.” Pétur expressed concern for Sileny.

“Some of your ancestors, not mine. Come with me,” Sileny demanded.

“What about the privy?” Pétur asked.

“The privy can muck itself for all I care. Now let’s go!” Sileny ordered.

***

They made their way downstairs to an obscured part of the church. Pétur and Sileny found themselves standing in front of a wall with a large tapestry. With minimal warning, Sileny slipped behind it from the side. She reached out her hand to grab Pétur and tugged him behind the hanging cloth. Sileny started pushing on the wall, and to Pétur’s surprise, it started opening like a door. 

“Come on. You need to see this.” Sileny urged as she dragged Pétur behind her.

Pétur found himself in a gray stone room with story-painted walls within moments. This room contrasted the white marble and gold interior of the church. At the center of the room was a wide pedestal that contained a stone bowl. The room did not feel like it belonged to the church, nor was it built by the original Monsans. The air was cool and slightly damp despite being lit by several torches.

“What is this place?” Pétur inquired while looking around in amazement.

“This room is the remainder of the original temple of Vadoma from before the War of Sea and Sky.” Sileny calmed herself as she let Pétur soak in the room.

Pétur instinctually walked over to the wall on the far right of the room. It was clean and untouched by the ravages of time. He looked closely and saw an image of the night sky with a full moon at the center. From the moon, rich azure lines extended down to a group of people and wolves that seemed to reference the Monsan people. One of the wolves was taller and brighter than the others, indicating its significance. The wolf had a similar colored line encircling its head. The background represented the forest, the ocean, and the mountains, with one flowing into the other seamlessly.

“Vadoma and Danion blessed their people. That is what the script at the bottom says.” Sileny explained to Pétur while pointing to the bottom of the mural.

He progressed to the following picture moving to his left. In this image, he saw Vadoma in the form of a woman and the wolf in the form of a man. They held an infant, and all three had the same circles around their heads as Danion did in the last panel. The characters stood together in the way one would expect a family to be. The background contained just the forest on the left and the mountains on the right. However, this scene was not set at night but instead dawn with the sun creeping up over the mountains.

Sileny continued, “Vadoma’s and Danion’s love created a blessed child. This enraged Vadim, who demanded retribution for their sin.”

“Why would Vadim care if Vadoma had a child with Danion? Isn’t Danion blessed by Vadim?” Pétur was puzzled. He silently reasoned to himself to work out the conflict. Danion, the Great Wolf, was said to be the Chief Attendant of Vadim. He couriers the souls of the mountain folk to the sun after death. According to Monsan legend, he even fought alongside Vadim in the War of Sea and Sky. Vadim would never betray his friend.

Sileny responded, “Wouldn’t he betray him?”

“How did you?” Pétur paused again. “How did you know what I was thinking? You always seem to do that.”

Sileny smiled deviously. “You are that predictable. You were thinking, how could Vadim betray Danion? It's a good question to ask, but it also means you believe the truth on the walls.”

“Well, it is hard to argue with architecture.” Pétur and Sileny laughed. “But something about this feels true. My grandmother and father told me a similar story from their people.”

“Keep looking. There is more.” Sileny pointed to the following picture in the series.

Pétur walked further to the left to see this picture was of the noonday sun. To the left was a burning forest, and to the right was Danion in chains, surrounded by Monsans dressed like the Kaplan. He was bound to the sun, and Danion’s halo was now gold colored. Vadoma nor the infant were in this painting.

“Vadim punished Danion and burned his home. He searched but could not find Vadoma nor the child.” Sileny motioned for Pétur to move to the next one.

Pétur saw Vadoma kneeling over a raft containing her child. Her hand was raised up, offering a honey-tinted stone to Zale. He was standing with his hand outstretched, accepting the stone while holding a jagged spear in his other hand. Zale was depicted fearsomely as a chimeric mix between shark and man. The scene was painted showing the setting sun over mountains and burned forest.

“Vadoma offered up some of her divine power to Zale in exchange for the protection of her child.” Sileny teared up slightly and quickly wiped it before Pétur had noticed.

Pétur moved to the last panel, which was cast in evening colors again. The crescent moon was at the center in the position of a bowl. Tiny drops of blue tears decorated the space between the sky and ground. The forest was redrawn in this panel, and the ocean was there too. Pétur looked closer and noticed that the land was decorated in little purple flowers. He froze to take in the position of the forest, the cliff, and the ocean. He panicked because he recognized it.

“Vadoma cried …” Sileny softly uttered before Pétur interrupted her.

Pétur anxiously continued, “… and her tears became the purple flowers that decorate the cliffs and the forest. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“Close enough,” Sileny solemnly said.

“I think I know where this is. I play with Wilk there all the time.” Pétur turned around and stared into Sileny’s eyes.

“Then it seems we were fated to meet Pétur,” Sileny ominously stated while looking back.

Pétur gave a puzzled look to Sileny and changed the subject. “What happened to the baby?”

“Zale sent the raft to a small island filled with some of his people. They raised the baby before ultimately Vadim destroyed that village too.” Sileny couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. “Vadoma never saw her child again.”

Pétur ran over and hugged Sileny. “It will be ok. It is just a legend. Even if it happened, it has nothing to do with us. It is all the business of gods and spirits.”

Sileny hugged Pétur back and whispered in his ear. “My people knew and taught this legend to any who would listen. When I was a child, the Monsan faith expanded its borders to other villages. All those that shared their viewpoint were spared. Villages like mine were more defiant, holding onto their traditional beliefs. This spirit ultimately led to their destruction. I do not know why I was spared, but here I am among enemies with nowhere to go and no family of my own.” 

Pétur hugged her even tighter, trying to give her every ounce of strength he had. He realized how they had become friends so quickly at that moment. Their stories were eerily similar as his father’s people had met the same fate a generation earlier. Unlike Sileny, he had a proper family. Pétur fought back his tears at the years of loneliness she must have suffered. Something inside of him beat as vigorously as his own heart. He had to help Sileny. He did not know how, but he had to. Sileny continued crying while holding onto Pétur. They stayed in the room for some time before finally composing themselves to resume their chores.