S E R A P H I M A D R A K O S
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Traveling the world had never been a high priority for Seraphima. Living modestly on a monastery had seemed to suit her just fine. For a while, when foreigners came and tried speaking to her about their origins, she would use her hand as a make-shift map, with her memory as some type of invisible ink. Now, outside of the monastic life, she felt like a world traveler. Even if she had only been to minimal destinations this early in her Frame Pilot career, being below the equator gave her a tingle of curious triumph.
Although the new mission was happening so quickly after the last mission, Seraphima was looking forward to this one. Even after a year on The Horizon, she had barely made much small talk with the rest of the crew. Coincidentally, this reminded her of her first year on the monastery. She would just be recovering from a long fast and an abundant feast day — sponsored by the monastery when many pilgrims would attend the celebration — and suddenly, the convent was preparing entering another fasting period and preparing for another feast of the Church. She could never catch her breath, unlike Sister Susanna, who seemed to always have enough for constant laughter and joking.
Seraphima pondered how Sister Susanna was doing. Was she a Warped, now? She let out a small sigh and though if how she occupied her mind more with monasticism than she did her family, these days, despite having become a Frame Pilot for the sake of her family. Maybe, it’s because I am afraid of having to kill one of them… if they’re still alive. The thought lingered and slowly vanished.
She hated allowing herself the opportunity to let her emotions fall into a stupor. Stay focused on the mission, she reminded herself. It seemed like an interesting mission, anyways. It was different than simply blasting away at Warped, and she was thankful for this. Her mind shimmied away the dark cloud of emotions. Why can’t I be more like Sister Susanna… or… Teodora? The thought that the two were similar with high spirits had never crossed her mind. It was comforting.
Oh, Louisa is talking… Her fingers toyed with the wool knotted prayer cross around her neck. It was nubby from all the times she had used it on the monastery. It was like a worn out stuffed animal for a child, and she blushed before speaking, attempting to sound relevant. “Do we have any information on the targets?” She asked with a soft curiosity.