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On that day the morning bells rang the same way as always. They didn’t wake Triskirna up - she has been awake for some time already and has been making finishing touches to her face-paint. After she finished she put on a wimple on her short, brown hair and double-checked herself in the mirror. Everything seemed fine. Good. Mother Lacrimorta has been horribly strict recently, harping on and on about the importance of setting up a good example for they little ones.
Ready for the day, she walked out from her cell into the playroom. She flicked the light switch on. A simple, round lamp flickered on the ceiling, illuminating the dark blue walls. The skeletons painted on them looked almost cheerful, though it was hard to see under the numerous sheets of drawn-on flimsy scattered on every wall. She walked on to the children’s sleeping room, trying her best to avoid old, threadbare pillows scattered on the floor.
“Children, did you not hear the lauds?” she called, flinging the door open. Her only answer was a grumbling from from five beds. Only five out of ten, and two other creches on that floor stood empty.
“Children!” she called again, and this time she got more of an answer. The grumbling grew louder and her charges crawled out of their beds. She handed them their navy blue robes and helped them get dressed. All of them were young and tended to get lost in the voluminous material.
After a long wile they stood before her in a row, wiping their eyes and muttering.
The always-sickly twins Penelope and Pelias, whose mother passed away a year ago after succumbing to the curse of the Seventh. Grumpy Ansar, his parents were rotting away in the Ninth’s prison. Marcia, handed over by her grandparents without a world.
And Gideon.
***
Then it was time to pick up the morning meal. As always, the skeleton stood in front of the entrance, bone hands gripping a battered, metal tray, a frayed white cloth covering their breakfast. She motioned to Penelope and Pelias - who were the oldest, almost four - to help her set up the table.
“May we be blessed with this nutrition, so our bodies and bones grow strong, so we may protect the Tomb with all our might...” she intoned after they finished, a chorus of hushed voices repeating after her. As soon as the prayer ended the children started to eat. The meal was simple, as all on the Ninth were. Pale buns fortified with bone meal and water - plain for her, mixed with vitamin powder for her charges. The breads were bland and the only good thing about them was the fact that they were fresh, the crunch of the crust almost satisfying.
They finished quickly and with the help of the twins she put everything back on the tray. The skeleton turned around and rattled away. It would be back with the supper in the evening. Triskrina stared at it for a moment. She heard that it once had been a person in charge of a creche like her. The thought always made her smile, it was comforting to think she might end up doing what she loved after her death.
Her contemplation was cut short by a yelp and a giggle. She whipped around to see what’s the source of the commotion was only to see the tablecloth gone from the table. It now rested on a mumbling, waddling mound that was veeery slowly chasing little Marcia, the source of overjoyed noises.
Tristkrina sighed and walked over to the horrible monster terrorizing the little girl. It stopped, slowly wobbling towards her. She knelt down on the floor, head level with the thing.
“What are you this time, Giggle?” she started.
The shrouded creature giggled. The nickname just came naturally to Gideon. “I am Mother Lakimo-ta!” it answered.
“You know it is disrespectful to the Mother...” she shook her head slightly, gently removing the tattered shroud, revealing fiery-red head of little Gideon.
“But she’s oooold! And scaaaary!”
Triskrina sighed “Just, try to not to do that in front of her. Now, can you put the tablecloth back on? We need to get on with the lessons!”
To that the tiny readhead nodded in approval, removed the clothed from her head and toddled over to the table. Putting it back on took quite the effort on her part, but she shooed Ansar away with a very firm “Noh!” when he offered to help her. It was her job and she was going to do it.
Then the lessons could finally start, as Triskrina promised. Today it was the songs. The Ninth started it's religious education very early, but there was only that much you could teach such little kids. So they mostly sang and drew. Today it was the “Silent Tomb”, and “She Watches Eternally”, and “Joyful Death”. The young nun took out her battered acoustic guitar and lead the song, the children trying their best to sing along. Many weren't yet able to memorize the lyrics fully or pronounce all the words...But even though she substituted most of the words with “nanana”-s, Gideon's voice rose about the others like a clear bell. Triskrina envisioned a bright future in the Drearburh's choir.
Then there was time for a nap, which started a lot of protests but with some prodding she was able to get all the little ones for a two hour nap. In that time Triskrina took out her bone rosary and spent the whole time praying, the knuckle bones clack-clack-clacking. It was good for the spirit, made the time pass faster and she could swear that it made the children sleep as calmly as the dead themselves. But when the time came they rose from their little cots like the Houses resurrected by the merciful Emperor Himself, full of joy and vigor.
The afternoon was reading and drawing. Pel and Pen and Ansar sat close to her, listening to her story about how the Tomb was made, of sacrifices of the priest and priestesses. Gideon and Marcie took the black charcoal sticks and were scribbling away on the flimsy, the shapes an abstract mess. When Triskrina asked they were Marcie answered “A nun!”, while Gideon’s was simply a “Sord”.
Then the bell resounded and with that came rapping of knuckles on the front door. The skeleton came again, this time bringing a hot meal - winter leaks in bone broth with protein blocks and a dusting of *real* marine organism flakes. Triskrina sometime envied the children their meals but she always reminded herself that her life was that of asceticism and sacrifice.
After skeleton rattled away there was time for another round of protests as there was time to go to bed. Gideon made the biggest scene, it was always a pain to get her to sleep for the night. For some reason she always wanted to stay late and play. Or maybe she just disliked how restraining her could could be... Still, it took a lot of convincing and Triskrina telling her a story of how Matthias Nonius won his first duel for the little redhead to finally fall asleep. The nun smiled at her softly, gently stroked the flame-red hair and quietly went back to her room to rest for the next day...
***
Triskrina woke up coughing. Her lungs burned and she could feel her throat seizing up. She could hear chocked gasps and cries from the children’s bedroom. She tried to call out to them but she could feel the blood feeling up her throat, she tried to rise and rush to their aid-
She woke in pure white of the infirmary. One of the nurses saw her and cried out in surprise, waving for the white Bone-Sisters. She tried to call out to her, to ask what happened to the children, but she fell back into the darkness.
Next time she came to she felt a little stronger, so she ask. And then she told her.
It made her scream so hard that her throat filled up with blood again.
Triskrina stood in front of the door to the creche. She could hear how quiet there was, no laughter, no running. She cracked the door open and walked inside.
The main room looked similar to how last she saw it. The same navy walls, the same smiling skeletons, the same crude drawings pasted all over them. She tried not to look on the flimsy. Instead she focused her attention on the pile in the middle of the room. Someone has taken all the pillows and toys from the whole room and piled them up high. On the very top of the whole construction laid little Gideon, belly down and storing softly, round cheeks pressed into a soft fabric.
Triskrina walked up to the little girl and gently stroke her hair. “Hey, Giggle...”
The girl’s golden eyes slowly flickered open. She sat up, wobbling a little and then her face lit up when she saw the nun. “Sis Tris!” Gideon shouted happily, sliding down the pile so she could hug Triskrina’s legs. Her little body felt so warm...
“How are you, Giggle?” she croaked, stroking the tiny, read head. She’s been doing that for the last few minutes, she just couldn’t let go.
“Are you o-k? Do you need to go to neco-mancer?” Gideon looked up, her huge, golden eyes filled with worry. “They will make things good.”
“I already was, they did the best they could. I will be fine.” she answered, smiling encouragingly.
Gideon nodded in answer, then after a moment her brow furrowed. “Is Marci good too? And Pen and Pel and Anar?”
“They-” Triskrina tried to answer, but for a moment her words left her. She closed her eyes, took a few breaths, steadied herself. “They went to serve the Emperor. Just like your mother, right?”
The little body holding her legs tightly stiffened and let go, tiny hands drooping to it’s sides. Gideon looked up at her, her eyes enormous pools of gold, wide, judging.”They’re dead?”
To that Triskrina couldn’t answer. No blood filled her throat but no words could come out of it. She just couldn’t find any. Instead she stood up and ran away, not looking back before the despair in those golden eyes would swallow her whole.
By the Emperor's mercy there was a shuttle leaving the Ninth on the next day.