The Priory of Daggers

I stood before the assembled council, naked, not even shoes on my feet, as they questioned me.

 “Prioress, I have been told that you come before us today to request your leave.”  The bishop’s gravel voice echoed across in the black marble chamber.  “Tell us why you wish to leave this Order and these halls.”  I winced internally, that was the worst way to phrase it.

 My soprano voice rang true, “Your grace.” I addressed the bishop.  “My Lady,” I turned to the abbess and then two priests, “your Lordships.  I simply seek the opportunity to learn more than these walls can teach.  I have learned much in my time here, but there are many more cults in the cluster, worshiping the Red God in their own way.”  I swallowed and continued, “I want to learn their way.”  After they had time to soak that in, I continued, “All that I have asked for is one or two days out of the month.  I’m a pod pilot, a trip across the cluster to Branch or Venal would not take very long for me.”

 “Are you saying that we are wrong?”  My abbess spoke with a sharp tone.  “That this order is somehow not worshiping Him in the way he ordains?” 

 “No, my Lady, I am simply saying that they may be other, different ways.  Neither more or less correct, just different.”  I knew that my request placed me on some thin ice, but it was something that I felt called to do.

One of the priest spoke, a ancient man with an appetite for young girls-not just their blood.  “To what end?”

 “Should we not all want to worship Him as best we can, your Lordship?”  I paused then continued on.  “I would also seek to chronicle all that I learned, compiling it into a codex so that others may benefit of my knowledge and experience.”

“And this request for neocom usage?” the bishop asked.  “There is a reason that you are here, cloistered in your abbey.  I understand that your capabilities put you in a unique class, but still.”

“Your Grace, the usage would be sparring, possibly one or two hours a day.  Again, simply talking to members of other cults would be of great benefit.  And again, my status as a capsuleer would allow me access that bas-non capsuleers would not have.”

 The bishop nodded slowly, I was happy to notice, before speaking.  “You idea has merit, prioress.  We will discuss it.  Remain here.”  

 The bishop stood; his robes were at one time a pure white, but were now a mottled red brown color, dyed in blood across centuries.  The others in the conclave stood and filed out slowly.  I stood stock still, goosebumps rising on my naked flesh, trying not to show my nervousness.  After they left I let out the breath that I did not know that I had been holding.

*****

 The conclave filed back in the chamber and sat on the raised dais, made of ancient wood, taking their seats.  The bishop cleared his throat.

 “Prioress, we have reviewed your request, discussed it.  You will be required to maintain contact with your abbess, keeping her appraised of your travels and experiences to ensure that you remain pure and with out taint. In addition, she will also monitor your neocom usage.  She may recall you at any time; failure to return will be prima facie evidence of heresy. .”  The bishop's emphasis on the last word chilled my bones.  “Do you understand?”

 “Yes, your grace.”

 “Good.”  The bishop continued gravely.  “We will consecrate you and your blood for odyssey.  Prepare yourself and be in the temple in four hours.  You're dismissed.”

 I spun on my heel and marched out of the room, through the massive oak door and grabbed my habit off the rack on the wall, bitching mentally about the temperature of the room.  Old bastard just wanted to see my nipples hard, I thought, smiling to myself.  I put on the three layers of my habit with practiced ease, and made my way back into the cloister.  Without announcing my presence I entered, taking note of the various dozen or so girls engaged in various activities, in various states of dress and undress.  The one closest to the door noticed me first, giving me a slight bow.

 “Prioress,” she said.  The rest of the sisters dropped what they were doing, along with what they had in their hand to bow lightly.

 “Sisters,” I smiled at them.  “Don’t let me stop you.  However . . . however, I regret to inform you that I will be leaving soon.  All of you are required to be ready for the temple in three and a half hours time.”  I turned to look at my aide.  “Sister Lucciele.”

 “Yes prioress.”

 “Have Lucy brought to my chambers,” I said, and turned back to walk into my chambers, not bothering to wait for her acknowledgement.  Sighing, I sat down in my chair and undid the first few buttons on my robe, leaned back and relaxed.  I had been before the conclave thrice before, and every time was a nerve wracking experience.  The red marble walls of my chambers were a welcome relief and, I hoped, Lucy more so.  A knock on the door brought me back to my senses.  “Enter”

 A young Ni-Kunni woman entered and made a polite curtsey, brightening my mood instantly.  A bright eyed, beautiful, but dull witted girl, Lucy had come to the order seven years ago, when she was ten years old.  One of my first acts as prioress was to have her removed from my priory as a sister and moved into a role that she was more suited for-a servant.

 Lucy had cried when I told her that she was never going to be Sabik.  She had no sense of ritual, trouble memorizing Scriptures; her comprehension was not up to the required level.  I explained to her the way of the universe, that some were destined to lead, others to serve and that she was simply the latter category.  It did not mean that she could not still serve the Red God, just in a different capacity, as my own personal servant.  She had taken to her role with a gusto, and had wound up a much better servant than she ever was a sister.

 The girl looked at me with her deep blue doe eyes and a wide smile, which I returned.  After holding her gaze for a few minutes, I held out my hand for her to take.  Soft fingers interlaced mine and I pulled her into my lap, and held her close.  

 “Hello, my dear,” I whispered softly into her ear as my hands roamed over her body, unfastening her dress.  Lucy giggled softly and squirmed, but didn’t fight my roaming hands.  The dress was easy to pull off of her and made a satisfying swoosh when it hit the floor.  My darling little servant girl inhaled sharply when I bit her shoulder and then whimpered when I clamped down harder.  I reached my hand around and grabbed her throat, possessively, no pressure applied.  Smiling to myself, I grabbed her chin, tilted her head to me and kissed her deeply, controlling.  She melted, turned to putty in my hands.

 I picked her up, off my lap and threw her to the bed.  She looked back up at me, never losing her doe eyed meek look.  That’s why I came to love her so easily, I suppose, no matter what, that was always how she looked at me.  My eye’s pierced hers and I smiled as she trembled.  Deft fingers unhooked the red velvet pellegrina from my shoulders and I pulled the scapular, mottled red with dried blood, over my head.  Blue eyes watched my every move as I unbuttoned my black 

robe and slipped it off, letting it pool at my feet.

*****

 An hour later we were both happy and snuggling, with me holding Lucy tightly to me.  I stroked Lucy gently, idly, all the while thinking of my upcoming odyssey.  When I came here, I intended to learn, and learn I had, rising to prioress in near record time.  My time in the order had given me a new understanding of Him, what he demanded of His servants.  The last remaining bits of my old life had been washed away, but I knew, I knew, that there was more out there.  The foundation that I built was solid, but needed to be built upon.

 “Lucy?” I whispered.  No response, much to my chagrin.  To get her attention, I lightly nipped Lucy’s ear, causing her to yelp softly.  

 “Yes, Sang?”

“Help me get ready for temple-the full regalia.  There is a special Mass tonight.”

That shocked her.  “Full?!”  Full regalia was no simple outfit.  It was only worn on certain special occasions: high holidays, special services, festivals and the like.  To date, I had worn my full regalia exactly twice before.

“They’re consecrating me.  There is to be a full Mass, including sacrifice and then the consecration.”

Understanding came over her.  “Ah, yes.  Of course, full regalia.”

She rolled off the bed and stood, walking over to my closet.  I grinned and admired the view as she pulled out the requisite garments.  After a short moment I hopped off the bed and followed her.  I gave Lucy a quick peck on her cheek and hopped in the shower.  

Years of practice in the military meant that I was able to shower quickly and efficiently.  I dried off equally as quickly, but drying my hair took a good bit longer.  Still, it took only a few minutes with the hair dryer.  A quick bit of makeup and I went back to the  main chambers and went back over to Lucy.

I grabbed a pair of black silk stockings from my drawer and slide them on, maybe teasing Lucy a bit too much while I did so.  Then I grabbed the matching garter belt and black lace underskirt and put them on.  Topping that, Lucy helped me slip on my formal robe, black velvet with gold trim on the hem, cuffs and down the centre line.  The habit came up to button over my throat.  I walked over to the hook where I had hung my scapular and slipped that on.  Like the priest’s stole or the bishop’s pallium, the monks and sisters of the order only have one scapular.  It is always dyed in blood, sometimes from a sacrifice or, in the instance of taking holy vows, a small token amount from the superiors of the sister.  Over the scapular I placed my belt, tight against my waist and buckled it, black patent leather with a simple gold buckle.  Lucy handed me my pellegrina, dark red velvet, and placed it on my shoulders, then reached around to fasten it.  Then she helped me brush my hair before placing the black veil, adorned with a gold filigree on the edges, on top of my head, in a way which left a good bit of my blond hair showing.  I reached over to my dresser and grabbed the symbol of my priory, a short, heavy gold necklace with a tiny dagger pendant and fastened it around my neck.  To this I also added a symbol of my religion, a ruby broach, cut and polished to resemble a drop of blood and pinned it to my throat.  

To my belt I added on my left hip my Liber Sani on a gold chain.  Each Liber Sani is different.  Each member of the order created their own Liber Sani, taking parts of the Scriptures, either verses, chapters, or even whole books and transcribing them, by hand with blood ink, into their Liber Sani.  The book itself is bound in black leather with gold letting indicating the person it belongs to.  It is also secured with a gold lock; only the superiors of the member are allowed to read it and then only for specific reasons.  The content of one’s Liber Sani is a major criteria for advancement in the order.  The archbishop of the order’s Liber Sani was several thousand pages and weighed thirty pounds.  He had a slave child who’s sole purpose was to carry his Liber Sani.

On my right side I added a silver dagger with a ruby pommel jewel.  The priory’s name was not just for show, the dagger would be used, possibly more than once before the Mass was over.  Sharpening my dagger was part of my daily rituals; it had a razor’s edge.

I stood still while Lucy looked over me, making sure my hair was straight, my habit correct and free of lint, and that everything was just in order.  “Well, my dear, everything in order?”

Lucy smiled up at me, “Yes prioress, everything looks good.”  I patted her head.

“Good, then go get cleaned up and get ready for temple.”

Lucy gave me a light bow, grabbed her dress and, without bothering to put it on sauntered out of my chambers.

            Once she was gone I took off my ring and replaced it with my signet ring.  I  was loath to take it off, as my ring was much more of a symbol than my signet right.  It was a promise, a token of true love, a love that I swore that I would return to.  There was not a day that went by where I did not think of him, my beloved.  Also, my necklace, the symbol of my faith-a small golden vial filled with blood, was on the dresser top.  A very loyal slave had given me it, when I first started on this path, a gift filled with her own blood.  Every time I saw it, my thoughts turned to the stars wondering how she was doing.  My faithful, beloved slave-she made the short list of two people that I missed the most.  I slipped it on, hanging on a much longer chain to hang near my heart.

 I double checked my habit once more before slipping on my shoes and exiting my chambers.  Outside, in priory commons the sisters under my charge were dressed already in habits much simpler than mine.  Sister  Lucciele was going over Sister Callie's, my newest charge and the only sister that I had inducted myself, habit.    I strutted over and took over.  My keen eyes looked over every seam, searching for loose threads.  I glanced over her scapular, with only a few splatters of blood on an otherwise brilliant white surface.  It took just a second before I found the splatter that belonged to me.

*****

            A knock on the  door broke my reverie.  "Enter, " I called out and a friar in service to the bishop entered and bowed.  He had a brownish parchment envelope in his left hand.

            "Prioress," he said.  The word still felt alien to me; I had only been made prioress the week before.  "The bishop commands your person to his office."  The friar held out the envelope for me to take, no doubt the official summons.

            "Very well," I said and reached out and took the envelope.  Prioress Sanguina was written in elegant calligraphy, with blood ink.  The latter marked it as official.  Still though, I knew what it said so just placed it on my dresser.  My veil was laying neatly on my desk corner; I grabbed it and put it on then turned to address the friar.  "Inform the bishop that I will arrive presently."

            The friar bowed and left after giving a brief acknowledgement of my reply.  Three days after being promoted to prioress, I had been given an official summons.  My mind ran through all the reasons why.  It could not have been a bad reason, or it would have been two of the militant monks sent to escort me.  I slipped on my shoes and headed out after the friar.

            The walk from my chambers to the bishop's office took thirty minutes.  The Order of the Chalice had a massive fortress carved into the side of a mountain.  The fortress home housed five of the nine abbeys of the order and their subsequent priories.  As luck would have it the Sagredia Abby was housed on the opposite side of the mountain as the Ordo Administratio.

            I walked quickly, my cyber enhanced body not tiring or fatiguing and turned my thoughts inward.  Years of military service, and one instance in particular, had ingrained into me that a summons was bad news.  Despite all the reasons to the contrary, I could not shake the feeling of dread.  But still, I walked on.  Eventually, but well before I expected it, I entered the arcade leading to the Administratio.

            The air was warmer here, since I had descended a few thousand feet from my starting point and I was on the side of the mountain receiving the afternoon sun.  The arcade let in a goodly amount of sunlight, warming my face and improving my mood significantly.  I took a deep breath of fresh mountain air and smiled a bit before opening the door to the Administratio proper. 

            The office was, for the order, very active.  Seven or eight monks were at their desks, talking amongst themselves, about what I did not notice.  The friar which had summoned me was at a desk in front of a massive mahogany door.  After exchanging some quick words with the friar he stood and opened the door for me to enter.

            I marched through the door and to the front of the bishop's desk.  "Your  Grace,"  I said and made a bow.

           

            "Prioress," he acknowledged and motioned for me to sit in one of the two chairs.  That meant that I was going to be here for a while; I sat.  He continued once I was settled.  "You're about to meet your first real test as prioress.  You have a new charge arriving later today.  Callie Valista.  She's eleven years old-" he briefly checked his files "-and the daughter of Francis Valista, a minor prefect administrator in the system.  She's been studying at one of our cannons regular abbeys for three years and ready to take Holy Orders as one of our sisters."  I nodded slowly listening, memorizing everything that I was being told.  "There are those that said your rank as prioress was given too soon, that you are undeserving.  They will be watching you closely these next few weeks."  He paused and then continued in a low tone, "as will I."

           

            I suppressed a shiver with some difficulty.  "Yes, your Grace.  I will not let you or the order down."

            The wizened old man grinned at me, a very disturbing experience.  "I'm sure you won't, Sanguina.  Those sockets on your neck and back can only take you so far, the rest you're going to have to earn."  It was phrases like those that often made me wonder if I had rejoined the Caldari Navy Marines and not noticed it.  "Get her in, get her settled and she'll take vows at a special Mass tomorrow night.  You'd better hurry to the shuttle pad, she's going to be landing soon."

            With that said, I stood.  "Yes your Grace.  May He show his favor unto you."

            "And unto you, Sanguina."  With the bishop's dismissal I bowed and then left quickly, not bothering to talk to anyone in the outer office and exited to the outer arcade.  I debated hiking up my skirts and running to the shuttle pad, but only for a moment, it would be better to arrive late and composed than to be unseemly in running there.

            Needless to say, the walk to the shuttle pad was long and it was up, a good thousand feet in elevation above the Ordo  Administratio and almost on the other side of the mountain, but it was at least closer to my abbey.  If I had time to think about it, I probably would have felt relieved, but alas.  A roar of a ramjet prompted me to speed walk the last quarter mile and I arrived just as the shuttle was being pulled into rest by the ramp. 

            A brunette Amarrian girl bounced down the ramp, exuberant.  She was dressed in a knee length black pleated skirt and a white blouse and I made a mental note to keep her away from Father Medicite.  I smiled warmly to the girl when she reached the bottom of the ramp.

            "Hello, Callie," I said.  "I am Prioress Sanguina; your prioress, to be exact.  Welcome to the Fortress Cathedral of the Order of the Chalice."

The smiling, bouncing ball of energy bowed and then said, “Good day to you, prioress.”

“And to you, Callie,” I replied.  Marks for enthusiasm, that was to be sure; I sincerely hoped that she would not lose it in the coming years.  I smiled, “follow me and I’ll take you to your new home.”  

We walked at a much more leisurely pace to the abbey; her tiny legs could not have kept up with me even if I was not cyber enhanced.  Upon arrival she was panting, worn out.  The walk had taken the wind out of her.  Despite my efforts to the contrary, I chuckled softly.  She looked up at me, slightly perturbed at my response.

“You’ll get used to it soon enough, little one,” I said to her, doing my best to make my tone something other than condescending.  “The good news is that you won’t be leaving the abbey often.”  We walked up to the massive double doors, oak, with a carved relief of a sister of the order kneeling before the altar, head bowed, a dagger in her hands, which were clasped before her.  On the altar was a child, the blood dripping down highlighted in a bright red paint.  Above the doors were the words “Deus Vult.” My new charged gawked at the doors briefly before I opened them.

The entrance foyer to the abby was lavishly decorated, red silk tapestries: Jahi emerging from a pool of blood, pure with a halo behind her, the sinners drowning in blood from Book II of the Scriptures, Saint Junip’s valley of blood, one from the order’s more militant past of sisters dressed in baroque armor slaughtering the unfaithful.  That painting had given stylized wings to the sisters, making them the Avenging Angels of the Scripture.  The rest of the foyer was red and black marble, high gothic style arches.  Two sisters from my priory were polishing the floor, by hand; they both nodded their heads to me when we entered.  

The fastest way to the priory commons was through the cloister.  A quick gesture to Callie to follow and we set off through the foyer into the cloister.  The cloister was well tended, with an immaculate lawn, statutes and sculptures and benches for quiet contemplation.  Much like any other time there were a couple of dozen sisters in the cloister a few keeping the grounds.  Unlike some other orders and sects of the Sani Sabik, the order didn’t employ slaves in any great scale.  It was our belief that self sufficiency was paramount and the best way to teach that was through hard work.  Some of our newer sisters, especially ones from more affluent families in the system that came to us as initiates were a little shocked.  I myself had to renounce all my slaves, save one, when I arrived.  

We passed through the cloister, not interrupting anyone else’s mediation or reflection into the priory commons.  The door was not as fancy as the abbey’s, just a simple dagger relief, though again red paint highlighted the blade.  Inside were twelve beds laid out, six on each side.  Each of the sisters had their own cell for use during the day as well as storage of their habits and other items, but they all slept in the same room at night.  Sometimes, depending on my mood and more often than not, I would pull my bed out as well.  Personally, I was pleased with the setup, it reinforced the bond between the sisters of the priory.  As it was the middle of the day the commons was deserted, much as I expected.

I walked down the isle to the back of the room and pointed with my hand.  “This is your bed, Callie.” Then, I walked past the bed and opened a door, stepping into Callie’s cell.  Inside there was a desk and a chair, a small padded kneeling bench, a closet complete with a tiny chest of drawers inside.  There was, of course, a artificial light, but in addition there was a circular stained glass window.  The picture was that of a red drop of blood, bisected by a wrought iron dagger.  “This is your cell”  I smiled at the girl who had followed me in.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to lock you in, but you will be spending a lot of time in this room, just you and the Red God.”

The girl smiled, “Yes, prioress.”  The long walk might have worn her out physically, but her enthusiasm had not waned.  I returned the smile and went over to the closet opening it.  Sister Lucciele had done her usual quality work.  There were four habits in the closet for Callie, including her more formal full regalia.  

“Alright, Callie.  Time to get changed into something more suitable.”  I grabbed one of the habits and held it out to her, just a simple one for daily everyday use.  If she passed my examination she would wear her full regalia tomorrow night.  Callie took the habit and then did nothing for a moment, prompting me to ask, “well?”

“Are you not going to leave, prioress?” she asked.

The question took me by surprise, slightly.  “No.  There are several reason for me to stay.”  I didn’t bother to tell her what they were.  If she could not figure out that I was now responsible for her in every way, then I wasn’t going to tell her; not to mention that I wanted to make sure she dressed properly.  Callie slowly undressed.  Each step of the way I looked for any visible marks or infections.  I grew a little impatient.  “How can you expect to bare your soul before God if you cannot even bare your body before me?”

That prompted her to move faster.  When she was finished she stood shyly with her hands clasped in front of her.  I double checked her once more for any signs of diseases or other marks.  Satisfied that nothing was visibly wrong with her I motioned for her to get dressed.  She slipped on her black robe, buttoning it quickly.  Then she slipped on her scapular, still brilliantly white and fastened her black leather belt over it.  Since she was still an initiate, her habit included a coif, hiding her hair as well as a veil.

Once she was dressed I continued on, “You are my charge, Callie.  As such I am to be informed whenever you feel ill.  We will also be speaking extensively as you grow in your faith.  As far as your place in the priory, you may consider yourself the least among equals.”  The look on her face caused me to place my hand on the top of her head to comfort her.  “Use that feeling, let it and your faith drive you, Callie.”  I paused briefly to let my words sink in.  “Your life here will be very structured; I doubt that you realize how much.  We will get to that later.  First, you have to pass your examination and then take your vows.”

The examination of a new initiate was simple in concept, but long and arduous in practice.  There were around a few hundred articles of faith, The Cruor Albumum.  Before Callie could take her vows I would examine her on each point of faith.  Since Callie had been studying extensively for three years, however, this should not be too difficult.  But still, I had to do my due diligence.

I turned and exited the room, motioning for her to follow me, which she did.  We walked through the commons to my chambers.  I opened the door for her to enter first and then shut it behind me.  There was a small cushion on the floor for her to kneel on.

“Kneel,” I instructed and walked over to my chair to sit.  On my desk was a gold tipped pen, a piece of parchment, and a vial of blood ink.  The parchment was the checklist of each of the things that I had to test her on.  I unscrewed the end on the pen, dipped it in the vial to fill it and resealed the pen.  A quick check on a blank piece of paper confirmed to me that the pen would write.  I wrote in my name and then Callie’s on the parchment and read the vow.  “Do you swear before me and before God that the words of your mouth will reflect your soul?  That you will be truthful in all things, under pain of death?”

Callie had gotten much more composed, realizing that this was a very real event for her.  “I do so swear it, prioress.”

“Recite the litany of faith,” I said, moving to the first item on the list.

She swallowed and then spoke slowly:

“I believe in the Red God, Creator of all, Master of the Universe.

I believe that He created us perfect, but that through no fault of His, we have failed to be a perfect creation.

I believe that redemption is possible for anyone, but that only a few are able to prove themselves worthy and that each of us are responsible for our own salvation.

I believe that redemption requires a Blood Sacrifice.  That only through Blood Sacrifice can we prove ourselves worth God’s grace and that only He can purify us.

I believe in the Sacraments of Faith, the Forgiveness of Sins and Life Eternal.”

Check.  I made the mark and looked down the list.  “Explain man’s relation to God.”

“We were created by Him.  Humankind is special to God, imbued with a greater purpose than any of His other creations.  We were created so that we might come to know Him, to worship Him.  All of humankind is drawn to God.

Even though we are drawn to Him, many still flee and reject God.  The reasons are many, from selfishness to fear.  Each of us is flawed.  We must strive to overcome that flaw in order to be with God and gain entrance to Paradise.”

“And what is the purpose of this creation?”  The answer was good, complete, if a bit long winded. 

“The purpose of creation is to test us.  Only through hardship can we be stripped to our core being, to overcome the flaw and come to God.  God wants us to come to Him, and he makes a world where it is possible.  Suffering is a universal condition.”

“But that is not enough,” I said, prompting the next item on the Cruor Albumum.

“No, prioress.  It is only through God’s Grace that we prove ourself worthy of salvation.  We can prove this only by the Sacrament of Blood Sacrifice, where we offer Him Blood as he demands.  If our sacrifices please Him then we are granted his grace.”

“Describe the Sacrament.”

“There are two variations of the Blood Sacrifice.  The first, and least commonly used, is Sacrifice of Self.  This is generally preformed by those persons who believe, but do not have the strength of will to live out the life of a Sani Sabik on a daily basis.  The Sacrifice must lay themselves on the Altar and without restraint, allow themselves to be Sacrificed.

The second, and far more common, is simply called the Blood Sacrifice.  A weak an unwilling person is tied to the Altar and sacrificed to the Red God in the name of those who the Sacrament is preformed for.  The Blood is collected and a chalice filled and all present partake.”

“And who does the order say is the best, most pure sacrifice?” I asked.

“The Order of the Chalice believes that the most pure sacrifice to be children, prioress.  Their Blood is still young and not tainted by the physical world.  Their Blood is pure with innocence, wonder and full of life.  This Sacrifice pleases the Red God the most.”

My examination of Callie continued well into the night.  She had accomplished, learning wise, in three years-at a tender age no less-what Lucy could not do in seven, studying in the cloistered abbey.  Even still after all that time we were not finished; we still had a quarter of the way to go.  And this was just simple articles of faith, not interpretation of scripture or reasoning or anything very deep.  All of that would come later.  I bade her good night and, once she had left my chambers, flopped on my bed and fell asleep, still dressed in my habit.

CLANG!  The ringing of the bells woke me from my sleep.  No matter how many years I had spent in the Marines, I still hated waking up this early.  I groaned and rolled to look at the clock.  Another old habit that I had; I already knew the time: 0600.  I sighed loudly and sat up, attempting to untangle my habit from around me.  My senses finally caught up with me and I simply started to undress.

Once I was declothed, I ran over to the shower, turned the water on very hot and stepped in.  The water ran over me while I stood still, not moving, still half asleep.  My mind went back to my own examination, which was more of a theology lesson, to be honest.  I had been inducted into another part of the cult, a different order.  The bishop had shown me the way, where I was wrong and how to serve the Red God properly.

For others, like Callie, studies took months or years.  Since I was a capsuleer, however, implanted with cyber implants that increased my memory capacity, perception, intelligence and will power, it took me mere weeks.  That also helped explain my meteoric rise from sister to prioress.  Although, to be sure the Priory of Daggers was mostly the younger initiates and sisters.  If I could command a battleship, I had damn well better to be able to watch over twelve teenage girls.  Although, sometimes I would jokingly jest with the abbess that command of a battleship was easier.  Sometimes, she would agree with me.

Once I was clean and awake, the latter being much more important, I shut off the water, wrapped a towel around my hair, and made my way over the window.  Like all the other sisters in the order, my chambers had a small kneeling bench.  Prayers were a major part of life in the order; they were a good reminder that we existed to worship.  I knelt down; the morning sun shown through the window, casting me in a red light and bowed my head, clasped my hands together and prayed.

“Red God of all.  Maker of the universe.  Lord of my life.  I beseech you for your guidance this day.  I pray for you to give me the strength to serve you as you will.  Next to you, we are nothing; it is only with you that we can accomplish all that we do.  Let my words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to you, oh God.  Let my actions this day glorify you.”

The order had also developed some more formulaic prayers to use, but I usually eschewed those and let the spirit of God guide me.  I felt closer to Him when I did that.  Satisfied that I had completed my morning duties, I stood and started to get dressed, in just a simple habit-I would change into my full regalia later.  I had just completed when there came a knock on the door.

“Enter,” I called out and Callie opened the door.

“Prioress,” she said and bowed, reporting to me as she had been ordered to last night.

“Initiate Callie.  Shall we finish the examination?”  I sat down in my chair, pulled out the Cruor Albumum from the drawer.  The pen I had drained and cleaned before I fell asleep.  Filling it took only a few moments before we were ready to go again.  “What are the Sacraments of Faith?  In detail, initiate.”

Callie took just a few moments to collect herself before answering. “The first and most basic Sacrament is the Blood Sacrifice or Offering of Blood.  The latter is far more common.  The Vitama in a sacrifice is brought forth, clad in a white silk robe.  They are then tied to the Altar, with the robe open and draped, acting as a altar cloth.  The priest then makes cuts, or officiates while another makes the cuts, on each of the wrists and then on the inside of each of the thighs.  There are also small cuts made on the neck, both sides on the arteries.  The Vitama is allowed to bleed out until they are dead.  Because of the way that the altar is designed, the blood will flow down the altar cloth and be collected.  The Priest will then fill the Chalice and all present will imbibe a sip of the Blood.  The remaining Blood will then be burned. 

The Offering of Blood is much the same.  The Vitama is brought forth, again clad in white silk.  The Priest then cuts, or officiates the cutting of, the Vitama’s wrist.  The Blood is then dripped into the Chalice, which is placed on the Altar.  At which point Infernatium is poured into the Chalice and it is set alight.  Although not part of the Sacrament itself, the Vitama is removed from the temple, or chapel and then bandaged.  The point of the Blood Offering is to not kill the Vitama.

The second is Initiation to the Faith.  Those new to the Sani Sabik religion are anointed with Blood.  There can be either a full Sacrifice or just and Offering of Blood to obtain the Blood to anoint with.  In either case, before the Blood is imbibed or burned, a portion will put in a vial, blessed and then be given to the new faithful.  This of course is the symbol of our faith.”  

My thoughts briefly went to the girl that I had come to love, who had given me that vial before I even knew what it meant, before I forced myself back to paying attention.

“The third is the Confession of Sins.  The Penitent will seek out a Confessor, or other person of sufficient rank.  The Confessor will hear the Penitent’s sins and provide absolution.  Following that, the Penitent will go to the Penitent’s Alcove in the chapel or temple and offer their Blood to the Flame of Absolution.”

And so it went on and on.  Callie recited more Sacraments of Faith, more articles.  Thankfully, there was no liturgy on the Cruor Albumum, else we would have been at it for weeks.  As it stood, combined it was over thirteen hours of examination.  I made the final check, signed off on it and leaned back in my chair.

“You can stand,” I said smiling at my charge.  “We’re all finished and you passed, which you already knew.”

Callie smiled back and stood a bit shaky.  So many hours kneeling had taken it’s toll; I motioned for her to sit on the bed, which she did.  “So, what now, prioress?”

“Now,” I said, trying not to sound too ominous.  “Now the hard part begins.  Tonight you take Holy Orders and then tomorrow you start your life here as a sister in the order.  You will have duties and routines as well as lessons and Mass.  All of which will be covered tomorrow.  Go see Sister Lucciele and she will give your garments for tonight.  After that, you have your ritual ablutions before you take your vows.  Which I will supervise.  For now though, it’s lunch time-actually well past lunch time, but I’m starving.  Off you go.”  I waved her out and she left.  A few minutes later, I too, left.