UNFORTUNATE CHILD

Mornings in the temple of the faith of the unblemished were routine for Marigold. Wake up at the first sound of the cock crow and find the bathroom before any servant did. Marigold did not know how it was with the male indentures, but the females all shared one bathroom and every night and day before Marigold has discovered the trick of waking up earlier than anyone else, she had foolishly thrown herself to the wolves. As if forgetting she had been branded an abomination since birth. Walking on her tiptoes, Marigold picked up the bucket filled to the brim with water and a pack of soap. Her steps towards the door were long purposeful strides while making sure the door she was supposed to exit didn't creak too loudly and awaken others. It was relatively easy because she had been doing it for eight years.

Marigold shut the door behind her when she entered the bathroom. It smelled like a wet dog inside. The indentured on that week's rooster had refused to do their job. Marigold ignored the sickening odor and dropped her bucket on the slippery floor. She then shuffled toward the dry parts of the bathroom and began to undress. Her slippers came first. They were old battered leather flips that had been handed down to the temple as a charity case. Her dress and undergarment came next. Time was slipping and Marigold knew she had to hurry. She had very limited time before at least someone in her wards woke up. After successfully hanging her clothes on the only window high up the dry side of the bathroom, she got to work.

She lathered the soap with water and began to scrub on her bare skin. She started with the places that mattered. Her face, her pits, her underside, her back then her hands and feet. It was a law that those that served Adora, the goddess of the temple keep their bodies pure. Physically and sexually. Marigold scrubbed hard, hoping to wash away all the blemishes her body had carried till she walked into the bathroom. She only stopped when she reached her back. Just down her spine lay a blemish she could not wipe off. Marigold had thought of it as a simple birthmark. It was until the tender age of ten that someone told her the mark on her back was anything but ordinary. Marigold had learned she was an Arcan; an individual with the power to weave desire into reality through the use of simple words. That revelation changed the small world Marigold knew since that day and nothing had been the same since. People could be cruel when they hated something or someone. The indentured she was surrounded with dug into her life since that unfortunate day.

"Time Is ticking," A voice whistled.

Marigold turned in the direction of the voice. It came from a creature, small and green. The books in the library had called it a parrot. But Marigold had her name for the creature. She had named it Ten. Because that was the first time the creature had come to her. "You cannot be here," Marigold retorted. It sure sounded mean. But there was a reason for that. The first time Marigold found Ten. She had brought it to show the others. The result? Marigold only added to the plenty of nicknames that she had been branded. In addition to being called a mother killer and an Arcan scum, Marigold added crazy to her name. Ten was not real. At least, not to the rest of the world.

"You were self-loathing while time was ticking, I had to come to save you from another round of humiliation if someone were to come."

Marigold proceeded to ignore the bird and finish up. The last thing she wanted was to be seen talking to a bird nobody could see. Especially if the was going to be cooking for the indentured. No one wanted the crazy girl in charge of the temple's food for the day. When Marigold looked back, Ten was gone.

Marigold waited for her wet body to get damp, before slipping back into her clothes and shoes. She then unclasped the bathroom lock and made her way outside

Marigold made her way to the temple's kitchen, her hands clasping her dress tightly. She had been chosen to cook for the day and she took pride in the task. It had been the only thing she knew how to do well and right. So the sisters in charge of the indentured had practically made her the temple's cook.

As she entered the kitchen, the smell of cooking vegetables and meats wafted through the air. If there was meat, it was a good day. Marigold noticed she had not been early enough as there was already a Sister stirring a large pot over the fire, her face creased in concentration.

Marigold recognized her. Sister Julianne. Sister Julianne was a kind and gentle woman. In fact, She was the kindest sister in the temple. She always wore a serene smile on her face. Her plain, black dress was a bit old-fashioned, but it was always clean and smooth. Her face was lined with age and wisdom, but her eyes were bright and welcoming. She had a way of making anyone feel at ease around her, and Marigold always looked forward to their conversations. "Good morning, Sister. What's on the menu for today?" Marigold greeted the Sister with a smile, placing the bowl of ingredients on the table.

"Stewed beef and vegetables," the Sister replied, stirring the pot once more before turning to face Marigold. "Oh, and I almost forgot. Twelve sisters will be leaving the fold and becoming elders tomorrow. If you are still interested in becoming a sister, you should apply. Your naming day is coming in three days, is it not?"

Marigold's eyes widened in surprise. Becoming a Sister was something she had thought about often since she had arrived at the temple. She knew it was a difficult path, but she felt it was the right one for her. The only issue was that it was a coveted position and she wasn't of age yet. Three days was too long because the empty slot could be empty in a day. Marigold's only saving grace was that the applications were actually carefully vetted. She stood a chance.

"Thank you, Sister Julianne," she said, smiling. "I'll keep that in mind."

With that, the Sister returned to her cooking, leaving Marigold to start on her own. Marigold started by chopping vegetables, her mind focused on the task at hand. She lost herself in the rhythm of the chopping, her thoughts drifting to her future as a Sister of the temple.

Soon, the kitchen was filled with the sound of sizzling pans and the aroma of simmering broth. Marigold worked quickly, adding seasoning and stirring the pot. As she finished up, another Sister entered the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room until they rested on Marigold.

"Marigold, there's someone here to see you," the Sister said, her voice urgent.

Marigold looked up, surprised. That was new…and odd. No one had ever come to see her before. Marigold looked at Sister Julianne, wondering if she was imagining things herself. But it seemed to be real and with a gentle nod, Marigold got the approval of Sister Julianne to leave.

"I'll be back," She told Sister Julianne, quickly wiping her hands on her dress as she followed the Sister out of the kitchen.

"Who is it?" She asked, as the Sister led the way.

The sister did not say a word, she only continued to lead Marigold through the hallway that was more like a labyrinth of the temple. They walked until they reached the top floor which was where the heart of the temple was. They were not allowed there on days like this. The sister stopped only when they had reached the inside of the grand chamber which was where the magnificent statue of the goddess Adora stood, looming over any worshipers who came to pay their respects. The chamber's walls were adorned with stained glass windows that depicted the history of the faith of the unblemished, from its founding to the present day. There were chairs, mounted in neat rows, facing Adora and inviting the faithful to sit and pray. The atmosphere was serene and tranquil, and the air was filled with the soft glow of the candles that flickered around the statue. But there was no crowd in sight. But Marigold noticed a man. She wondered if the man was the one looking for her. As he approached them, Marigold got a good look at the man. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and piercing dark eyes. He wore a fine tunic and breeches, and a cane carried his walk.

The sister bowed, "The faith of the unblemished is blessed to have the king's hand in our temple." With that said, she briskly walked away.

"Marigold,"The man said, his voice low and hesitant.

Marigold's heart skipped a beat as she looked at the man. She had never seen him before, but there was something familiar about him. "Do I know you?" She asked.

The man chuckled, almost insulted. "Have you forgotten your own father, child?"