Faith of the Fallen

Astonished, Nicci dropped into a chair. Sisters of the Light had the gift, just like her and Mother. Nicci didn't know very much about the Sisters, except that they served the Creator. That still didn't settle her stomach. To have such a woman right there in her house was intimidating-like when she stood before Brother Narev. She felt an inexplicable sense of doom.

Nicci was also impatient because she had duties waiting. There were donations to collect. She had older sponsors who accompanied her to some of the places. For other places, they said a young girl could get better results by herself, by shaming people who had more than they deserved. Those people, who had businesses, all knew who she was. They would always stammer and ask how her father was. As she had been instructed, Nicci told them how pleased her father would be to know they were thoughtful to the needy. In the end, most became civic-minded.

Then, there were remedies Nicci needed to take to women with sick children. There wasn't enough clothing for the children, either. Nicci was trying to get some people to give cloth and other people to sew clothes.

Some people had no homes, others were crowded together in little rooms. She was trying to get some rich people to donate a building. Also, Nicci had been assigned the task of locating jugs for women to bring water from the well. She needed to pay a visit to the potter. Soma of the older children had been caught stealing. Others had been fighting, and a few of them were beating younger children bloody. Nicci had been pleading on their behalf, trying to explain that they had no fair chance, and were only reacting to their cruel circumstance. She hoped to convince Father to take on at least a few so they might have work.

The problems just kept mounting, without any end in sight. It seemed like the more people the fellowship helped, the more people there were who needed help. Nicci had thought she was going to solve the problems of the world; she was beginning to feel hopelessly inadequate. It was her own failing, she knew. She needed to work harder.

"Do you read and write, dear?" the Sister asked.

"Not very much, Sister. Mostly just names. I've much too much to do for those less fortunate than myself. Their needs must come before any selfish desires of my own."

Mother smiled and nodded to herself.

"Practically a good spirit in the flesh." The Sister's eyes teared.

"I've heard about your work."

"You have?" Nicci felt a flash of pride, but then she thought of how things never seemed to get better, despite all her efforts, and her sense of failure returned. Besides, Mother said pride was evil. "I don't see what's so special about what I do. The people in the streets are the ones who are special, because of their suffering in horrid conditions. They are the true inspiration."

Mother smiled contentedly. Sister Alessandra leaned forward, her tone serious. "Have you learned to use your gift, child?"

"Mother teaches me to do some small things, like how to heal little troubles, but I know it would be unfair to flaunt it over those less blessed than I, so I try my best not to use it."

The Sister folded her hands in her lap. "I've been talking to your mother, while we waited for you. She's done a fine job of getting you started on the right path. We feel, however, that you would have so much more to offer were you to serve a higher calling."

Nicci sighed. "Well, all right. Maybe I can get up a little earlier.

But I already have my duties to the needy, and I will have to fit this other in as I can. I hope you understand, Sister. I'm not trying to get undeserved sympathy, honestly I'm not, but I hope you don't need this calling done too soon, as I'm already quite busy."

Sister Alessandra smiled in a long-suffering sort of way. "You don't understand, Nicci. We would like you to continue your work with us at the Palace of the Prophets. You would be a novice at first, of course, but one day, you will be a Sister of the Light, and as such, you will carry on with what you have started."

Panic welled up in Nicci like rising floodwaters. There were so many people who hung to life only by a thread she tended. She had friends at the fellowship whom she had come to love. She had so much to do. She didn't want to leave Mother, and even Father. He was evil, she knew, but he wasn't evil to her. He was selfish and greedy, she knew, but he still tucked her into bed, sometimes, and patted her shoulder. She was sure she would see something in his blue eyes again, if she just gave it time. She didn't want to leave him. For some reason, she desperately needed to again see that spark in his eyes. She was being selfish, she knew.

"I have needy people here, Sister Alessandra." Nicci blinked at her tears. "My responsibility is to them. I'm sorry but I can't abandon them."

At that moment, Father came in the door. He stopped in an awkward posture, his legs frozen in midstride, with his hand on the lever, staring at the Sister.

"What's this, then?"