A statement of a soul | Raphael x Reader

12. The Atonement

The next few days are very difficult. You don't sleep well, haunted by the nightmarish images of your friends' faces twisted in agony every time you allow yourself to close your own eyelids. It makes you tired, almost feverish. The situation with Ki doesn't seem to be getting any better and on top of that you now feel a heavy weight of sin pinning you down to the ground, undermining your genuine belief in the good intentions of your choices.

You keep fighting with yourself, one side justifying your actions, trying to tell you that this is not right, this is not what you did and what actually happened. But every time you catch yourself finding a new explanation for the course of your past doing, you realize that this is the signature work of one of your old times companions; a permanent part of you, which doesn't hesitate to hop on the main stage to try and get your full attention.

You crush dried Rogue's Morsel in a mortar and look up at the wooden ceiling with a small sigh. It is early in the morning and the horizon outside begins to change. Here and there, you can see a few snowdrops desperately seeking their way out from under the fluffy white cover.

Ever since you remember, even before you were drafted to join the monastery, all the people around you - guardians, adults and even your peers - they never seem to treat you seriously. You always find yourself taking a spot somewhere at the bottom of the hierarchy of priorities, always being perceived as a listener. People like you, or at least they always say they do, always cherish you for your kindness and open heart. But in reality, you are rarely or never given an opportunity to be listened to, so you settle on listening to others.

You look at the alchemy table in front of you and reach for a long wooden spoon and swirl the water in a metal kettle set on a small burner. You grab a vial of previously prepared suspension of Bullywug Trumpet and empty it, throwing all its contents to the water. After a few more swirls, you add the crushed Rogue's Morsel and set the wooden spoon aside, returning back to your thoughts.

The Order of the Yellow Rose follows the teachings of Ilmater. A god of compassion, kindness, selflessness. He teaches that if possible, one should save another from suffering, by carrying the burden on their own shoulders.

You recall times when you were angry at being exiled. Moments in which the phantom of that anger comes back, haunting, poisoning your heart, but you have learnt to recognize how it feels, how to address it so you are aware of the presence of a much more dangerous inner demon - pride. The one who at times happens to be very attention-starved.

Pride is a close friend of anger, or rather, they often times seem to be happy bedfellows. And you know the two of them all too well. When looking back at the last events at your monastery, you are now able to address the emotions that guided your actions. It was mainly anger, yes. And a justified one, for sure. But there is always more, there is always the tip of the iceberg and what is hiding underneath it. It takes a lot of time to see those things, but time is the greatest teacher and never fails to show one's mistakes and progress. Now, you are able to say that beneath the anger, there was also an ambition; a wild dream of being the protector of all the sexually assaulted victims, a desire of being the hand of justice, punishing the abuser and earning respect of your elders, so that they will finally cherish your mind and soul just as much as they cherish their own.