The Divine Defender I (Fiction)

Kaleen Yweh (I)

Dear Father– Esteemed Gove– To Whom This May Concern

My name is Kaleen Yweh. I am a Seraphim residing in the Convent of Saint Abeni’s Mercy in the province of Bhisho, in your province. I would not write to you directly, most esteemed officer of the Queen’s law, without due cause. I seek no grievance and require no bribe. I wish only for acknowledgment. This letter may grow lengthy, and you may grow wearied by it, but for the sake of my late mother, I would wish–

Kaleen crumpled the thick parchment paper in her hands. Her eyes were misty and her head throbbed. The silence of the room invited a dozen voices to wail into her skull, offering arguments and insults alike. What would he say to each?  She dropped the letter into a small crate beside her desk, already close to overflowing with discarded efforts. She dipped her quill into ink, unfolded a new parchment, and she wrote. Her writing hand soon began to shake, and her letters twisted. She scratched out the header twice.

“To whom this may concern,” She murmured. Kaleen discarded her new effort, barely any longer than the first. She ran her hand across her face. Cold sweat had collected on her from breast to calf. A chill breeze issued from the nearby window and doused her candle. Kaleen took the wick with her fingers as if to pluck it. She pulled it upright until her fingers slid off, lightning a new fire. The parchment looked ever less inviting.

Then there was a knock on her door, startling Kaleen nearly off her chair. The physical world had completed its intrusion into her private space. She turned half around with her arm extended behind her, covering her works.

The door opened as though of its own accord. A small girl in a shoulder-less white gown bowed her head to Kaleen, clapping her hands together as she did so.

“Namaste, Sister Kaleen; the mothers are calling for silence now.”

“I shall be in bed in a moment.” Kaleen said. She surreptitiously pushed her stack of parchments off the desk and into the nearby crate.

“The patrol groups switch tomorrow. “ Shanti said. ”You shall be given your chance again. Blessed be your dreams tonight, Sister Kaleen! I am excited for you.”

Kaleen bowed her head to the girl, smiling. “May the spirits bless your dreams as well.”

Shanti smiled, bowed again, and then closed the door.

Kaleen’s ears drooped and she wrapped her tail around her waist. No matter how terribly the words plagued her, it was time to sleep for the night. A snap of her fingers smothered the flaming wick and cast the room into darkness. Ink still dribbling from the discarded quill, Kaleen left her desk. Across the room she fell like a stone on the bottom bunk of her bed. She felt acutely every muscle made ill by her stiff writing pose, and her fingers pulsed with pain. The contents of each letter faded in and out of memory. She could hardly recall how many times she had written “Dear father.”

Continued…