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Everyone's a Catgirl! Ch. 234: Setting the Table
🕑 Added 2023-08-02 05:54:12 +0000 UTCCeres sat with her hands in her lap, upright and straight-backed. Like a proper Shi Island maid. As the wagon moved, she shuffled one thumb over the other, wondering with great interest what their visit to Irisil would be like. She sat beside Cailu, who sat across from Matt and Cannoli.
The silence in the cart was palpable, so Ceres thought to add her voice.
“I am much anticipating the visit to Irisil,” Ceres said, a hand clapped to her breast. “What is it like, Sir Cailu?”
Matt clicked his tongue, his attention on something outside the window.
“It is a compact city,” Cailu said, “and stands as an important beacon for the Saoirse faithful.”
Cannoli glanced at Cailu, then turned back to the window. “That’s nice,” she said.
There seemed to be a rift between Matt, Keke, and Cannoli as of late. Ceres wondered if she had been too forthright with her desire to sit in the same wagon as Matt. With so little time left, she wished to spend every second breathing in his masculine glory.
“I would like to hear more,” Ceres said, hoping to add Matt and Cannoli’s thoughts to the conversation. “How did it come to be?”
Cailu raised a brow, regarding her with the hint of a smile. “According to scripture, it served as one of the first bastions for the Saoirse faithful.” He rested his gauntleted hands on his knees. Goodness, the man was imposing. “There is little more to tell than that without going into the entire history of the city.”
“I would not mind.”
“What are we doing there?” Matt asked suddenly.
“Our first three nights will be spent camping on the road,” Cailu said firmly. “Irisil will serve as a site of respite before we continue our journey.”
“Alright.”
“With that said,” Cailu continued, “we must discuss whether you intend to change to your next Class. I have a list of experienced [Myrmidon]s and [Battleguard]s that I could bequeath to you.”
“I think I already know who I want to be my trainer.”
Ceres cocked her head to the side. “Are you referring to Erina? The [Battleguard] from Shi Island?”
At that, Matt looked away from the window at Ceres. The air around him felt sharp, potent, and somehow aggressive. Yet he had done nothing. “Yeah. Why?”
“With all due respect, Sir Matt, she has one arm now. I am unsure as to whether she would serve as a proper instructor.”
“The men don’t have to meet the same requirements, right?”
Cailu narrowed his gaze on Matt. “That does not mean you should take the paved road. Nyarlea is not a winding path of niceties. She will struggle to teach you proper technique without a second arm.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Matt said with irritation in his voice. Cailu had his full attention now, and he was leaning over with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped. “I just really respected her, and she survived the encounter with the Defiled. I’d like to see if she’s willing to take me on.”
“I must implore you to reconsider,” Cailu said with a deeper tone. “We cannot afford to make mistakes, Matt. Not now. Not when we are this close.”
“Close to what?” Matt snapped.
“To uniting the islands.” Cailu punctuated each word with venom. “The islands have spent countless generations bickering and competing with one another for a higher seat of power. No matter the cost, it must come to an end.” He drew a deep breath, then exhaled. “The men hold the greatest sway of power, Matt. Do I need to explain what that means?”
“Uniting the men means to unite the islands,” Ceres said, side-glancing Cailu. “It may not occur in a single generation’s time. However, if the men were to set a precedent—a new standard of unity amongst the islands, then, one day, the Defiled threat could potentially be eliminated.”
“Precisely.”
“What of the word of Saoirse?” Cannoli said barely louder than a whisper. The wagon hit something in the road, and she squeaked. Matt made to steady her, but she shook her head. “Does she not say four islands under one queen?” She visibly swallowed, then bit her bottom lip. “The queen acts as Saoirse’s will, after all. The men aren’t supposed to leave their island.”
“The doctrine will be honored,” Cailu said, “within reason. Our current methods are desultory at best, reprehensible at worst. The Defiled threat creeps upon us like a shadow. Kittens scrounge for whatever morsels and Bells they can find, and without the right men,” Cailu paused to look at Matt, “future generations will be unprepared for what awaits them.” He looked back at Cannoli. “To refuse change is malfeasance.”
Ceres thought on the man’s words. Her entire life had been devoted to the cause of Saoirse, and the devout obedience to the whims of men. To see two men coming to disagreements was unheard of, and yet she had seen more men in a few months than most catgirls did in an entire lifetime. Perhaps Cailu was right. Perhaps the status quo was imperfect.
That would imply that Saoirse was wrong, she thought. That is imperceivable.
“Do you believe Saoirse exists?” Cannoli asked.
Matt’s head spun around to regard her, his brow raised. “Cannoli, that’s—”
“The scriptures are exceptional,” Cailu said, his words unwavering. “I respect the doctrine.”
He does not believe, does he?
“What of you, Matt?” Cannoli asked, looking at him next. Ceres’s heart skipped, her adoration for Matt, and her faith at an impasse. “Do you believe Saoirse exists?”
“H-Hold on,” Matt said, his hands raised, “I don’t know anything about Saoirse. How could I believe in something I have no experience or knowledge of? I barely know myself sometimes.” His words were rushed, as if in a panic. “I… I can’t say if I do or I don’t. To put me on the spot like that—” His voice cracked. “Cannoli, that kinda hurts.”
“Hm.” Cannoli didn’t appear affected one way or the other. She returned to gazing out the window, leaning her chin on her palm while she rested her elbow on the windowsill.
“Sir Matt,” Ceres began, although she had no idea where she was going with this, “I implore you to explore to your heart’s desire. I will be by your side every step of the way as you partake in this journey.”
Matt seemed to relax at that. “Thanks, Ceres.”
Ceres nodded. “Cannoli?” The white-haired catgirl’s eyes flickered to the corners, but she continued to stare out the window. “I share your love of Saoirse. However, Saoirse’s teachings did also state that the men bring forth foreign knowledges and expertise we can scarce fathom.” Ceres felt she knew Cannoli’s answer already but decided to prod to help mend the discomfort. “Have you read the hymns?”
Pink colored Cannoli’s cheeks. Ceres couldn’t remember when she’d last seen that. “No. What I know I learned from my mother.”
“I mean no disrespect when I say then that Saoirse encourages the very actions Matt and Cailu take.” There was room for interpretation in the words, but Ceres chose to believe Saoirse a benevolent goddess. “Hymn forty-three. ‘Judge not the whims of man, for he is an enigma. Judge not the thoughts of man, for he is courageous. Judge not the words of man, for his burden is heavy.’ Have you ever heard this hymn?”
Cannoli’s cheeks continued to darken. “N-No,” she said softly.
Ceres smiled, confident she’d found a crack—albeit a temporary one—in her accusations. “Several of Saoirse’s teachings were passed down through song. Most were dutifully recorded, and the tomes no doubt cared for by the temples.” A hymn she and her fellow [Magic Knight]s rehearsed resurfaced, and she recalled standing in a line, praying and singing. The memory brought warmth to her chest. “To be clear, I never performed the pilgrimage required of many [Acolyte]s and [Priest]s. However, I do know many of the hymns, and they bring with them a wealth of wisdom.” She grinned. “I would love to sing alongside you when you learn a few.”
Cannoli blinked, fidgeting as she glanced between the faces in the wagon. “I’m sorry if I made anyone uncomfortable. I have more to learn than I thought.”
“Ignorance,” Ceres said, resting her hand over Cannoli’s, “is a vice most potent when willingly embraced. You cannot fault yourself for wisdom you were never taught.” She hoped she had not come off arrogant or patronizing. As widespread as Saoirse’s teachings were, most of the temples and places of worship resided in Nyarlothep. Without the guidance of a local [Bishop], Saoirse’s word was often misspoken. When she took her hand away, Cannoli smiled.
“I’m excited, but…a little scared,” Cannoli said, curling an errant strand of hair around her finger. She kept her gaze to the floor, and Ceres couldn’t help but feel that Cannoli may be feeling ashamed. As far as she’d seen, few had encouraged Cannoli’s beliefs, and Ceres wished to be a wise voice which Cannoli could rely on. “I’m starting to realize just how little my mother taught me. She was a [Bishop], but I’ve never heard of the hymns.”
“[Fighter]s often learn about the word of Saoirse,” Ceres said, glancing at Cailu. “[Paladin]s and [Arbiter]s from history recited the songs, and some [Bishop]s even weaved them through their Magic.”
Matt frowned. “I thought bards didn’t exist as a Class?”
“Yes, Sir Matt,” Ceres nodded. “That is true. However, songs, hymns, and chants are all different. Though Ravyn is loath to admit it, the words she recites are chants—forms of song.”
“How is that?” Cannoli asked. “Do you mean I may sing?”
“‘Singing’ may not be the correct word,” Ceres said. “‘Tis true that bards do not exist as a Class, but the hymns of [Bishop]s, the chants of [Sorcerer]s; they are both forms of music. Admittedly—and you did not hear these words spoken from my lips—Ravyn’s chants could use some adjusting. They do not maintain the consistent tone associated with chants.”
Cannoli giggled. “I’ll make sure to mention that to her when I see her next.”
The tension in Matt’s shoulders vanished. “I’m gonna miss you and Ravyn.” He reached for her hand, and to Ceres’s relief, Cannoli blushed when he laid his hand atop hers. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing what you have to teach me about Saoirse.” There was a strange vacancy in Matt's eyes as he said that. Cannoli didn’t seem to catch it, though.
Saoirse, please guide Cannoli, Ceres thought, to a path of goodliness and righteous behavior.
Comments
Andrew Willson
Ceres is the best girl as per usual
