La Niña Caída
Rosa pushed back the heavy velvet curtains that covered the window in her bedroom. In the east, the perfect black of the night sky had faded to a deep, rich blue. Even as she watched, the colour lightened further, tinged with aqua. Dawn was coming.
With a faint smile, Rosa pulled down the black-out blinds, and let the claret draperies fall back into place. Smoothing her black satin nightgown over her hips as much from habit as from any need to straighten it, she turned and glided silently across the room to the tall cherry-wood credenza set against the wall opposite her bed. Once she reached it, she took a moment to compose her state of mind into something appropriately reverent, and pulled open the upper cabinet. The cabinet was empty of shelves, the back of it completely covered by a large, framed mirror. Set on a small pedestal back against the mirror was a large and ornately carved cross of ebony, standing over a foot tall. Affixed to the front, blade up, was a miniature replica of a Centurion's lance, perfect in every detail. On either side of the cross were tall white tapers in simple gold candlesticks. Before it, in neatly ordered ranks, were small red votives in glass globes, showing varying degrees of use. Lying across the table between the cross and the candles was an obviously antique and valuable rosary - the beads were solid gold, shaped into remarkably detailed roses. The crucifix was gold inset with ruby, the body of Christ carve of ivory. At the crux of the chain was a small, delicately crafted vial of water - holy water from the font of Rosa's first baptism. The crucifix had been the last gift of a long-dead family that had given up on her. She didn't know why she kept it, but there it sat all the same.
Opening one of the drawers beneath the cabinet, Rosa pulled out a box of long-stemmed matches and lit one. For a moment her Beast stirred uneasily, but the single match was not enough to alarm it. She lit the candles in careful sequence - first the right taper, then the left, then the tiny votives one by one - one for each member of her familia. There were quite a few, these days. Blowing out the match, she pulled the cushioned stool around from next to the credenza, and knelt, gazing unblinkingly at the candlelit cross. It was time for her morning prayers. At Mass, there wree Litanies and passages of the Testament, in Latin and English and Italian. They had their beauty, and were all fine and good. But in the privacy of her own sanctuary, Rosa had a prayer all her own.
"Dios Mio;
Yo me paro antes Usted, irredimible
He girado a Su luz, y escogido las sombras
He tirado my llave al Paraíso, y abrazado las llamas del Infierno
He negado a Su gracia, y se negó Su amor
Pero todavía cumplo fielmente mi papel en Su gran plan
Para soy encargada en el Purgatorio que Usted ha hecho
Soy la loba en Su multitud, y la serpiente en Su jardín
Les muestro a Sus niños los horrores de la oscuridad
Que ellos buscarán Su luz con todos corazones
No confieso nada
Quiero no perdón
No me dé absolución
Yo no me arrepiento
Soy la Niña Caída,
Y en mi Condenación, soy Santificada."
For several moments after she finished she remained kneeling, gazing at the dancing firelight in her private altar as a familiar sense of peace washed over her. Smiling quietly to herself, she rose and snuffed the candles, then closed the doors and padded across the room and crawled into bed. With a gentle sigh, Rosa slipped away into dreams, content in her place in the world. After all, she was a childe of Longinus - a Predator of God. And for her, that was enough.
With a faint smile, Rosa pulled down the black-out blinds, and let the claret draperies fall back into place. Smoothing her black satin nightgown over her hips as much from habit as from any need to straighten it, she turned and glided silently across the room to the tall cherry-wood credenza set against the wall opposite her bed. Once she reached it, she took a moment to compose her state of mind into something appropriately reverent, and pulled open the upper cabinet. The cabinet was empty of shelves, the back of it completely covered by a large, framed mirror. Set on a small pedestal back against the mirror was a large and ornately carved cross of ebony, standing over a foot tall. Affixed to the front, blade up, was a miniature replica of a Centurion's lance, perfect in every detail. On either side of the cross were tall white tapers in simple gold candlesticks. Before it, in neatly ordered ranks, were small red votives in glass globes, showing varying degrees of use. Lying across the table between the cross and the candles was an obviously antique and valuable rosary - the beads were solid gold, shaped into remarkably detailed roses. The crucifix was gold inset with ruby, the body of Christ carve of ivory. At the crux of the chain was a small, delicately crafted vial of water - holy water from the font of Rosa's first baptism. The crucifix had been the last gift of a long-dead family that had given up on her. She didn't know why she kept it, but there it sat all the same.
Opening one of the drawers beneath the cabinet, Rosa pulled out a box of long-stemmed matches and lit one. For a moment her Beast stirred uneasily, but the single match was not enough to alarm it. She lit the candles in careful sequence - first the right taper, then the left, then the tiny votives one by one - one for each member of her familia. There were quite a few, these days. Blowing out the match, she pulled the cushioned stool around from next to the credenza, and knelt, gazing unblinkingly at the candlelit cross. It was time for her morning prayers. At Mass, there wree Litanies and passages of the Testament, in Latin and English and Italian. They had their beauty, and were all fine and good. But in the privacy of her own sanctuary, Rosa had a prayer all her own.
"Dios Mio;
Yo me paro antes Usted, irredimible
He girado a Su luz, y escogido las sombras
He tirado my llave al Paraíso, y abrazado las llamas del Infierno
He negado a Su gracia, y se negó Su amor
Pero todavía cumplo fielmente mi papel en Su gran plan
Para soy encargada en el Purgatorio que Usted ha hecho
Soy la loba en Su multitud, y la serpiente en Su jardín
Les muestro a Sus niños los horrores de la oscuridad
Que ellos buscarán Su luz con todos corazones
No confieso nada
Quiero no perdón
No me dé absolución
Yo no me arrepiento
Soy la Niña Caída,
Y en mi Condenación, soy Santificada."
For several moments after she finished she remained kneeling, gazing at the dancing firelight in her private altar as a familiar sense of peace washed over her. Smiling quietly to herself, she rose and snuffed the candles, then closed the doors and padded across the room and crawled into bed. With a gentle sigh, Rosa slipped away into dreams, content in her place in the world. After all, she was a childe of Longinus - a Predator of God. And for her, that was enough.