088 Chapel Days · Scene 6

Chapel Days

Chapel Days · Scene 6 · Tender a
The Chapel ~ Interior ~ Bowles
Early Autumn ~ Late Morning
An isolated, formerly unused hallway
A brick wall overgrown with ivy at its end
Paper targets dangling before it on a wire track system
gunfire from a stall amongst several at the hall’s other end
Hidden away, a firing range visited by rarely more than one

umankind on the face of Icarus was not comprised solely of the classical homo sapiens, otherwise known as icarans, but several others. There was the oldest race of humankind, the fur covered and beaked nāti with their long ears and split feet, and the chimeric races, who typically were comprised of icaran traits along with those of animals. If Drop was not a spirit and so small, she would have likely been considered a mermaid, or a member of an aquatic chimeric race. However, a ruddy skinned centaur maid with a strawberry roan coat and blonde hair tied in a high ponytail was indeed a member of the chimeric races and consequently human.

Maye was a Sister of the Cardinal Church and would have normally been garbed in a navy habit with a coif, veil, and matching horse blanket. On the firing range practicing with her revolver style rifle though she was garbed in a white shirt with a red denim jacket. A nun practicing with a rifle was an unusual enough scene in most cases, though she neither wore her habit as she practiced or was a normal nun. On the Chapel there was a contingent of nuns who did not pass on the teachings of Cardinal but were instead trained in combat and reclaiming the Light of the Lucifalz to regain the people’s trust. As Maye was one such nun, her actions were far from unusual unlike the maid who appeared before her as she finished reloading and turned to aim down the shooting range.


“So, you’re awake finally heretic.”

Though the two did not know each other for long, a relationship had formed between Maye and Chain who currently stood on the shelf of the stall Maye practiced from. As Maye was not large enough for an adult to ride her like a horse, Chain’s position elevated the smiling maid well above the centaur’s head and shoulders. This allowed Maye to take aim downrange between Chain’s legs, causing the maid’s smile to become a pout as she responded to Maye’s statement.

“Yup! Though I feel like I could have stayed in bed forever. It was so soft and comfortable… um… what are you doing?”


“Isn’t it dangerous shooting between someone’s legs?”

There was no discernable difference between Chain and Drop’s voices, yet there was just enough difference in the manner of speech between them to tell the difference if one was familiar with them. Maye’s short relationship with Chain was more than enough for her to tell the difference and she addressed the right Chain in her cool tone as she continued firing her rifle.

“Fear not she-devil, the herertic is garbed in chainmail, and despite her hips and bosom is otherwise a non-obstacle stick.”


“I don’t know what you think you are doing, but you do realize that I have at least one round left in my rifle?”

“And you realize I don’t like having my figure talked about and have a Foreigner infection that could consume this whole mobile fortress.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s just a reminder that shooting us would be dangerous. That and it might be hard to from that position.”

Butting in, Drop attempted to defuse the tension between Chain and Maye. She also took the time to point out that as Chain had to squat down to chop Maye on the head, that the barrel of Maye’s rifle was pinned between Chain’s thighs. Maye did not seem to care and looked up at Chain from under where her right hand was still pressed into her forehead.

“Am I too presume that you do not have control Heretic.”

“I have plenty as long as it isn’t taken away. Though, I never noticed how pretty your eyes are. They’re almost the same reddish brown as your skin. Anyway– Hup!”

Standing up and spreading her arms over the top of the divider walls on the stalls, Chain allowed Maye to recoil with an obvious blush on her face. Chain didn’t linger on it herself as she suddenly flipped up and over the centaur landing behind her. Before Maye could follow her by turning her head, she inhaled sharply and turned even redder in the face as she felt a chainmail skinned hand grab her back left ankle and lift her leg.


“Hm? Just checking your shoes. Why?”

“Let me go heretic! I won’t have you putting your foul hands on me so familiarly!”

Despite her best efforts, Maye could not kick free of Chain’s grip and was reminded of the terrifying strength that the Foreigner infection that Sa·B·ers possessed granted them. Chain for her part didn’t even seem to be trying as she wobbled about limply in reply to Maye’s desperate kicks, still holding on firmly to her leg with a strangely blissful and blank expression. Smiling as she was wobbled about, Chain argued for the importance of what she was doing.

“Don’t be like that. You came to my rescue recently and were running all over a place that really isn’t good for your feet. And you see–”

Pointing with her free hand to Maye’s hoof, Chain pointed out the horrible condition the affixed horseshoe was in.

“–your shoes are in terrible shape now. Believe it or not but redoing these is pretty easy for me, so let me pay you back at least a little bit for your help.”

“And why would I let you of all people handle so delicate a task?”

It seemed to Chain that Maye wasn’t listening, and she simply smiled broadly as the centaur was starting to get teary eyed in embarrassed rage. She was the second person Chain had embarrassed that morning, but unlike with Finch, Chain was not letting Maye get away.

Copyright © 2019 Joshua D Tarwater


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