Another Start to a Story: Vivienne

One doesn’t usually think of a priestess as vivacious, but Vivienne was that and more.  In a future lifetime, she would have been the perfect cheerleader for the local high school team.  She was pert, petite, cheerful and possessed a giggle that could make even curmudgeons laugh aloud.

Photo by Tolga Ahmetler on Unsplash

But as the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter, her path was foretold in prophecy and her parents had no choice but to turn her over to the Temple at Ivance.  She was not sad for Vivienne was excited as always was at the thought of a new adventure.  Her father, however, was bereft.

He had hand-built her trunk for her.  Wiping a tear he hoped no one would see, he loaded it into the cart the temple sent to carry Vivienne off. It weighed next to nothing because it was filled with nothing as instructed.  She would arrive at Ivance with only the trunk and the clothes on her back. This felt wrong to him.  He was a fortunate and proud man.  He could provision his daughter.

 She was his favorite child.  The last of 13 – all who had survived. But Vivienne was the only one who had thrived.  She was the life of the household, and he knew things would be very different without her.  He was filled with a type of remorse he couldn’t admit to. He wished one of the other girls had been the seventh of the seventh.  Agnes perhaps.  She seemed more temperamentally suited to the life he imagined the temple would entail—not that he or anyone knew. The temple was self-sufficient and cloistered.  The daily routines of the women there were shrouded in secrecy.  The only glimpse the villagers had was on the holy days and then all they saw were well-practiced rituals with everyone silent and in step.

It was hard to imagine Vivienne silent for any length of time.  She’d been chattering nonstop since her first word.

Vivienne bounced around from sibling to sibling stopping to nuzzle the horse’s neck now and again.  The women sent to fetch her stood silent and dignified.  Vivienne was a bird flitting from branch to branch. She understood that it would be some time before she saw her family again, which concerned her, but what an adventure awaited her!  Rumor had it that she would be taught to read. She couldn’t even imagine the wonders about to unfold.

As she said her goodbyes, punctuated with giggles and exhortations to live a good life, the priestesses began moving about checking the reins and adjusting the cart contents when one of them finally said “Vivienne, the time of fulfillment has come.  Let us leave.”

Vivienne hopped into the back of the cart and sat amidst the bags of wheat—offerings from the village folk—and her empty trunk.

As the cart made its way down the rutted path, the villagers came out to wave goodbye.  They too would miss Vivienne.  Everyone’s heart was heavy, but Vivienne’s eyes sparkled.