writingpun

The shrine to the Moon Goddess was a sacred place: only the shrine maiden and their three attendants could set foot inside. But Nkiru did not know the laws of the land. She was simply tired and knew that shrines often offered shelter and food to those who humbled themselves before the gods. She had traveled long that day. Her clothes were torn from hiking through brambles; her muscles ached for rest; her bones were chilled to the core.

So when she stumbled into the shrine, even with the sword hidden in her pack, she meant no harm. She had wanted at most to sleep on the hard wood floor away from the wind, with her bedroll to warm her bones and her hands to massage her sore muscles. She had expected the main room to be home to an old, shriveled monk, or perhaps a young shrine maiden-in-training, but instead she found a beautiful woman about her age, half-dressed and getting ready for a bath. She had a large, hooked nose, full lips, and long, curly black hair that fell like a curtain of silk to her waist. Her skin was a warm golden brown, and her eyes, where visible behind her curtain of hair, were like liquid gold. When she saw Nkiru, she shrieked and called names that Nkiru didn’t recognize.
Nkiru apologized profusely and began to back away, covering her eyes, and backed right into one of the shrine attendants: another young woman, with twin black braids that hung to her waist and plain, sturdy clothing. She scowled up at Nkiru, which was a first. Nkiru was used to being the shortest one in the room.

“Don’t you know that this shrine forbids visitors?!”

“No!” Nkiru said, backing herself into a corner as she tried to avoid both the attendant and the shrine maiden, who was scrambling to collect her clothes from the floor.

The attendant looked as though she were about to throw Nkiru out when suddenly there was a great howling from outside, and through the open door, the first flakes of a snowstorm whirled into the warm room. The attendant made a noise of alarm and rushed to shut out the cold.

By the time she came back, two other attendants had come to see what was happening: a large, dark-skinned person wearing a headscarf, and a small, light-skinned girl with short brown hair and pale eyes glimmering with something that made Nkiru uncomfortable.
The first attendant glanced back at the others, looking annoyed.

“A visitor?” The pale-eyed girl asked, raising her eyebrows.

“And just as the snowstorm hit, too,” the woman with the braids replied. “Sending someone out in that would be a death sentence.” She stared daggers at Nkiru, who did her best to look apologetic. “Seems like someone is going to be dying tonight.”

The attendant with the headscarf looked as though they wanted to protest, but said nothing. The pale-eyed attendant smiled. They were about to advance on Nkiru and throw her out into the snow when a voice interrupted them.

“Wait!”

For the first time, the shrine maiden spoke. She was holding her clothes in front of herself. Nkiru looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

“Let her stay,” the shrine maiden continued. “She—she didn’t know about the rules. When the storm has cleared, she can go.” When the attendant bent on throwing Nkiru out narrowed her eyes and did nothing, the shrine maiden said, “Please, Inez.”