NOVEL WEB Chapter 10: The Maid and the Miracle
The Dormir household was in ceremonial chaos.
People were busy preparing the ceremony for Lysette in a few days.
In a few days, Lysette would receive her blessing.
The mark of turning two..
Florist scattered sacred petals through the halls.
Priest muttered over lengths of divine thread.
Seamstresses from the church wept at the challenge of crafting infant robes.
They make sure that these robes are suitable for divine resonance.
Every mirror had been polished.
Every corridor was covered in silks.
After all, the youngest from Dormir's family will go through a blessing ceremony in a few days.
No one had time for the quiet ones.
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In the corner of the wall, there was a young maid.
Thin and pale from candlelight and archival dust.
She wore the plain maid uniform that had an ink stain.
Her fingers were smudged with violet ink.
Her boots, nearly silent.
Her eyes never left Ezrel.
Her hand was scribbling in a journal.
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There, he was... The Serene Heir...
Already four years old.
Curled under a curtained window, while lying on a velvet bench like a relic.
His arms were folded, face tilted up toward the morning light. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't truly asleep yet.
She knew he was meditating.
She noted the way his breathing slowed. Counted the seconds.
Then, reverently, she opened her journal.
Log #97:The Serene Heir initiates his divine rest at precisely two minutes past third bell.
His posture is unchanged from yesterday.
No visible signs of spiritual agitation. A soft yawn was witnessed but controlled.
She dipped her quill again, careful not to bleed through the paper.
They ask me to record him and not to worship him.
But I was not told how to resist awe.
How I can carry my duty truthfully if Im in awe??....
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Ezrel opened one eye and turned his head to her.
She froze mid-sentence.
The Serene Heir had stared directly at her.
His look was bleary, unimpressed.
The look of someone catching a bird watching them nap.
Then…...Slowly…....
He raised a single finger to his lips.
"Sssshhhhhh....."
She nodded at once, bowing her head as if given a divine mandate.
He sighed...
Closed his eye again....
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He has acknowledged me as the scribe for his journey.
She wrote breathlessly.
I am worthy to follow his journey.
She followed him quietly after that.
Not out of duty.
But....
Out of faith.
----
Through the inner halls of Dormir House, she trailed his steps.
One hand was on her journal, while the other was near her ink pouch.
He passed through courtyards where nobles bickered over colors and threads. He passed kitchens that reeked of honeyed root pie. Everyone let him through.
"Let him go," someone whispered. "The Dormir heir always knew where he was destined."
But she knew better.
He didn't walk a path.
He slept through it.
He stopped at the nursery door.
Opened it with the barest push.
She peeked in behind him.
And saw her.
Lysette was already in bed.
She abandoned her crib to sleep with her elder brother.
Not placed there.
Not fussed over by nurses.
She had arrived.
She lay curled where Ezrel usually slept.
Tucked in perfectly.
One thumb pressed to her lips, and the other hand outstretched toward the space beside her.
Ezrel paused.
The maid held her breath.
When he stepped inside. Lysette's outstretched hand immediately closed around his sleeve, still half-asleep.
As if waiting.
As if expecting him.
Ezrel groaned and climbed in beside her without resistance.
He didn't even ask why she was already there.
The maid clutched her journal tightly. Something inside her shivered.
She didn't know what she was witnessing.
Only that it mattered.
While shivering, she wrote in her journal
She anticipated him.
She does not follow.
She arrives.
No mere reflection, but the light anew.
The bed curtain fluttered gently as the pair of them settled.
Ezrel turned to the side.
Lysette followed, eyes still closed.
Their breathing synchronized.
The maid backed away slowly until she stood alone in the hall.
Her quill trembled.
She'd been trained to observe blessings.
To catalog miracles.
She knew dozens of rites, hundreds of divine expressions.
Her blessing is the Chronicle's Clarity of Selphira from the Ink-Mother.
But this…
She continued to write.
It is not just his light I follow.
The fate between them glows like spun glass.
Wherever he rests, she is already there.
She does not disturb his divinity but she completes it.
In her next log, she did not write just his name.
But....
She wrote both.
Ezrel Dormir....Lysette Dormir....
And beneath them, in smaller, reverent script:
Two threads.
One weave.
This miracle has two names.
I pray the god behind them is kind.
And I...Milia...
Will be the scribe for their journey.