SIGILLARIA

  The Keeper of the Universal Seals

  “Good morning, Muryel.”“Good morning to you.”

  Walking through the long corridors of the palace, Muryel had already stopped several times to return the greetings of those she met along the way.

  “Good morning.”“Good morning…”

  A soft light filtered through the tall windows, making the dust suspended in the air sparkle. The Divine Archive was a calm, silent place, where everything carried a solemn, ancient atmosphere.

  Around her was the constant rustling of scribes’ quills as they patiently transcribed the events of the world. Completed scrolls were handed to the archivists, who placed them on the shelves with measured, almost ritual movements.

  Every day, every word, every single moment of mortal life had to be recorded and preserved, so that nothing would ever be lost.

  A slow, never-ending task that had continued since the dawn of time.

  To think that so much time has passed…

  But Muryel was no longer just a simple archivist.

  After centuries of dedication and work in the Divine Archives, she had been noticed and promoted to higher duties. Welcomed among the divine assistants, she had been assigned to serve one of the deities residing there.

  A unique and prestigious opportunity.

  Serving a deity was an honor reserved for a fortunate few, and for her it represented the goal she had pursued her entire life.

  Or so she had convinced herself.

  The deity she had been assigned to was the goddess Sigillaria: protector of ancestral seals, she who closes and locks away, defender of cosmic balance and first bulwark against the Void.

  An ancient goddess, whose origins dated back to the creation of the world itself.

  The divine Sigillaria was known for her brilliance and lively personality, and Muryel’s duty as her divine assistant was to fulfill her needs and make sure she didn’t neglect her responsibilities.

  A task Muryel had come to understand was anything but simple.

  After crossing the corridors and climbing the endless stairs of gleaming white marble, Muryel finally reached the door leading to the goddess’s private chambers and knocked.

  No answer.

  She’s probably still asleep… as usual.

  Opening the door in frustration and stepping into the room, Muryel headed straight for the large divine bed, surrounded by long curtains of soft, velvety silk.

  “Divine Sigillaria…”

  From behind the curtains, no sound.

  “My goddess, it’s been morning for quite a while now…”

  Nothing again.

  Oh, for the gods’ sake, always the same story!

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  Pushing the divine curtains aside with a firm gesture and approaching the bed, Muryel began tapping decisively on the shape under the sheets at its center.

  I don’t believe this…

  “Divine Sigillaria, it’s time to get up. Don’t make me force you out of bed…”

  No movement.

  With a deep sigh, Muryel lifted the covers to reveal who—or what—lay beneath them, and froze.

  In front of her eyes: a pile of stacked pillows.

  And no trace of the goddess.

  What the…?

  Agitated, Muryel began looking around in confusion, searching for any sign of her lady.

  Could she already be awake? But usually I have to insist to get her out of bed…

  The room was empty, tidy; nothing seemed out of place or different from usual.

  Wondering where on earth the goddess might have gone, Muryel scanned the room until her gaze stopped on the small balcony, where the curtains swayed gently in the breeze.

  There—behind one of them—she thought she saw the outline of a person.

  From beneath the curtain, Muryel noticed two small white pointed objects sticking out slightly.

  Are those shoes?

  Irritated, Muryel marched over to the curtain and yanked it aside.

  “Divine Sigillaria!”

  Muryel was in disbelief.

  “You… you were hiding?”

  The figure behind the curtain jolted, stiffening.

  “What? Me?” Sigillaria gave her a forced, vaguely smug smile.

  “No, absolutely not. I was just… getting a bit of fresh air. You know how it is, the morning breeze is so pleasant…”

  Muryel stared at her for a few seconds, speechless.

  “…I beg your pardon?”

  Muryel knew the goddess’s behavior all too well, and that clumsy excuse made her lose her temper.

  “Divine Sigillaria, your behavior is simply unacceptable!”

  Muryel’s raised tone was sharp and filled with reprimand.

  “I’ve seen you do plenty of bizarre things since I began serving you, but this is definitely the worst of them all!”

  The goddess, hit by all those accusations, crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose.“Hey, watch your words. Remember that I’m a goddess!”

  “Yes, you are…” Muryel, still furious, kept pressing her. “…And this constant behavior of yours is exhausting and completely inappropriate. Not to mention the extremely important duty awaiting us today!”

  Sigillaria, pretending not to know what her assistant was talking about, stepped away from the wall and walked past it.

  “…Duty?”

  Muryel turned to follow her with her eyes, continuing to push her.

  “Today is the day dedicated to checking the ancestral seals, Divine Sigillaria. Don’t pretend you don’t remember!”

  Sigillaria spun around, stomping her feet on the floor.“But we already did that last year!”

  Used to this kind of attitude, Muryel took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

  “These are divine regulations, Divine Sigillaria. And it’s an extremely important responsibility—you know that very well.”

  Sigillaria crossed her arms, pouting as she looked away and muttered to herself.“Yes, as if it even mattered…”

  Muryel pretended not to hear.“What did you say?”

  Sigillaria lifted her gaze again, looking her assistant straight in the eyes.“I’m just saying that every year we do the same inspection, and nothing ever changes…”

  Muryel noticed that the goddess’s expression had grown darker.

  “This is part of your duties, Divine Sigillaria…”

  “Yes, I know: I’m the goddess of seals, of closures, of all that stuff. And yet nobody ever remembers me…”

  Muryel listened silently.

  “…Of all the deities, I’m one of the oldest, and despite that, my followers have practically disappeared. My temples—abandoned… or even dismantled to build houses and aqueducts…”

  So this is what it’s about?

  “…And look at the other gods. Irvis, God of volcanoes and earthquakes; Bellona, goddess of war; Neptanio, god of the seas… They’re younger than me and lower in rank, yet mortals adore them, and their temples are always full…”

  Sigillaria wasn’t wrong. Her worship had nearly vanished over the millennia, giving way to that of the gods more useful to nature’s rhythms or to practical needs.

  “You’re right, my goddess…” Muryel cut in with gentle firmness.“…I understand your bitterness. But that’s still no reason to neglect your duties!”

  “I know…” Sigillaria lowered her gaze.

  “It’s just that sometimes everything feels so pointless…”Seeing the goddess’s face grow sad, the assistant tried to find the right words to comfort her.

  “You are Sigillaria, the ancestral goddess of seals and the only barrier against cosmic chaos. Nothing about who you are or what you represent is pointless, my goddess…”

  Muryel watched the goddess’s face, realizing that her words had struck her.

  Sigillaria, after pondering her assistant’s statement, suddenly seemed to brighten, and a strange, satisfied little smile appeared on her face.

  “You know what, Muryel? You’re absolutely right…”

  Stepping forward, Sigillaria clasped her assistant’s hands, giving her a lively, radiant smile.

  “…I am an ancestral deity, and no one can ever change that…”

  Is it already over???

  The goddess seemed relieved: her face had returned to its usual calm and confident expression.

  Well… at least her good mood is back…

  “So then, Muryel, dear assistant of the wonderful, divine Sigillaria, we have an important duty awaiting us. Let’s go!”