The Girl Who Fell from the Polar Star

Chapter 27: Faith

April 18, 2023

Lately, to make things easier for Marie, Stella had been having breakfast in the restaurant before opening hours. Rye and Typica were sitting across from Stella. Marie was right next to her. Varrell and Beck talked over their food at the next table over. The twenty men of Beck’s squad were also here; they attacked their food eagerly. They were thugs, but disciplined thugs. Beck was clearly trying his best to be a good leader.

The new employees, Sally and the two boys, sat at a distant table. Judging from the way they threw furtive glances at Stella, they were still not comfortable in this new environment.

“The way they’re looking at me,” Stella said, “you’d think I’m some wild animal.”

“They’re just scared,” Rye said.

“Scared of what? I didn’t do anything scary.”

“Really? Then it must have been your face.”

“Rude. That’s not something I can fix, you know. Not that I’d want to if I could.”

Stella stabbed a piece of beef with her fork and brought it to her mouth. Today’s breakfast consisted of beef cut into strips, vegetable soup, roasted corn, steamed potatoes, and bread. This is too much to start the day with, Stella thought bitterly. “Oh, Rye, your plate is almost empty. Poor thing.”

“What? No it’s not,” Rye said, confused. Then she grinned. “I was the one who asked if we could have meat for breakfast, you know. Lots of meat in the morning, to grow big and strong!”

Stella sighed. So this is your fault.

“Clever, what about you?”

‘Keke! I’m full to burstin’, eh! Can barely fit anything in my bird’s stomach!’

“Typica, then? You train with your swords every day. Your body needs extra nourishment, I’m sure.”

“Oh, Stella, you shouldn’t be picky,” Typica said. “Come, now, eat your food. If you don’t, you’ll regret it in the afterlife!”

Talk about blowing it out of proportion. Stella shouldn’t be surprised, she supposed. This was Typica, after all.

“I’m not being picky,” Stella said. “This is just too much to eat for breakfast.”

Eating meat was necessary for gaining weight. But it was so painful. If Stella could, she would eat only vegetables. I’ll have them prepare a separate breakfast for me starting tomorrow. Meat once a day was enough.

“Forgive me, Miss Stella. It’s okay if you can’t eat everything.”

“No, I’ll do it. It’s not like it’ll kill me.”

With one eye closed, Stella attacked her plate, digging her teeth into the meat. Its juices mixed with the bile coming up her throat. She chewed her food diligently before washing it down with water. Next were the vegetables. Soup. Meat. More meat. Even more meat.

“A-Are you crying?” Rye said.

“I’m fine. This is for the sake of longevity. I can’t afford to shun foods I don’t like to eat. Well, not that I don’t like them—I’d just rather not eat them if I could.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No. It’s completely different.”

As Stella pushed through her ordeal, the two boys silently approached with forks in hand and extracted some of the meat from her plate.

“What—” Typica frowned. “Have you no manners?!”

“S-Sorry . . .”

“I just wanted to help . . .”

“I like people who are capable of critical thinking and making their own decisions,” Stella said, suddenly in a better mood. “What are your names?”

Had it been Beck in their place, he would have shared the meat on his plate with Stella (and earned a beating for it). These boys had done the opposite. They had potential.

Rye and Typica stared at Stella in disbelief. “Wha— You don’t know their names?!” “Unbelievable . . .”

“I wanted to ask them directly,” Stella said. “It’s way more fun that way.”

“I don’t think fun has anything to do with it,” Rye said.

“Hello. My name is Tony.”

“Uhm, hello. My name is Bram. I’m ten.”

“Ah! And I’m nine.”

The boys—Tony and Bram—still looked nervous. Despite being former slaves, they knew how to sound polite. They would probably help Marie more than hinder her.

“My name is Stella. I’m your master. As I believe you already know, your work here will not go unpaid. That means I expect you to do a good job. Is that clear?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

“Good. You two have a bright future ahead of you. As a reward, you can have all the meat left on my plate.”

“Thank you, Stella, ma’am!”

They took Stella’s plate gratefully and returned to their seats. Grinning with satisfaction, Stella reached for her glass of water. She was finally done.

“Why’re you so pleased with yourself?! All you did was get some kids to eat your leftovers!” Rye said.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Rye. This is the satisfaction of having properly nourished myself and also learned that I can use these children. Their kind is so nicely pliable.”

“Their kind? You’re a child too!”

“I have no words for this,” Typica said, sighing.

“You can say anything you want, as far as I’m concerned. Marie, the food was excellent, as always.”

“Thank you, Miss Stella. Uhm, may I have a minute of your time? I want to introduce you to Sally.”

Marie beckoned the girl over. The black-haired, freckled girl stepped up with some hesitation. Stella waited for Sally to say something. Precious seconds went by. Stella’s frown became more and more impatient.

“U-Uhm . . . I, uh . . .”

“It’s all right, Sally. Miss Stella is not going to hurt you. The boys said hello, didn’t they? Just do the same.”

“A-All right. H-Hello. M-My name is S-Sally. I-I am at your service.”

“My name is Stella. I have high expectations for your work here.”

Sally smiled. “Y-Yes, ma’am!”

Stella kept her calm despite the girl’s annoying stammering. Not all people were the same. This girl seemed to have been through some difficult things in life that made it harder for her to trust others. Better to let her speak in her own time.

“Oh, I just had the best idea!” Typica exclaimed.

“Loud.” Stella grimaced.

“This is a large household now. We should celebrate with a party on the next Rest Day!”

“A party?”

“Yes, a party! I’d like to get to know all of you better. Also, I’d like all of you to get to know me better. And the best way to do both is by having fun together!”

‘Nice idea, eh? You got some brains under that weird ’air, eh! Color me impressed!’

Typica snorted triumphantly as she fiddled with one of her twin tails. “You have quite the discerning eye, bird. Go on, praise me more!”

A party? Why not. “What do the rest of you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Marie said. “Sally and the kids will have an easier time working here if they get to know everyone first.”

“All right, then,” Stella said. “But if we’re doing it, I want a feast for the occasion. I’ll cover all costs. It doesn’t hurt to have some fun every now and then.”

“Oh, I wanna help!” Rye said, raising her hand.

“As do I, of course,” Typica said, raising hers. “It was my idea, after all!”

“Everyone is so excited,” Marie said with a smile. “I’ll have to put my skills to the test!”

As the girls giggled with excitement, Beck hesitantly approached Stella. “Uhm, ma’am,” he whispered into her ear. “My men want to come to the party. You think you could allow them to?”

“All right, but make sure they can control themselves. Anyone who goes too wild will be punished—you included, of course.”

“Yes, ma’am! Thank you!” Beck grinned. Then he turned to his men, pumped his fist in the air, and yelled, “We’re coming to the party, boys!”

They received him with cries of joy. Morale was high in Beck’s squad, even if they lacked the skills to back it up. Maybe I should ask Varrell to beat them into shape.

Typica was right, though; this had become a large household. Stella, Clever, Rye, Marie, Typica and Sally and the two boys, Varrell, Beck, and the twenty men under his command. Glenn’s General Store wasn’t large enough for so many. Beck’s men were living in the houses across the street.

One day, I could own every house on Rolbury Street, Stella mused. It was a desolate little street—perhaps, as far as she could tell, even completely abandoned.

Stella returned from her post-breakfast exercise routine to find the restaurant bustling and the store silent as a grave. Well, that was to be expected; the tears of falling stars were being sold at the restaurant now.

Rye, who’d been watching the store, stared at Stella with an awkward expression as she came in. With no customers to attend to, the girl had been working on her decorations.

“Welcome back,” Rye said.

“Good morning,” someone else said.

Stella glanced at the someone, then turned back to Rye. “What’s wrong? You look like you just ate something terrible.”

“Come on, she’s right there! You can’t just look the other way and pretend she doesn’t exist!”

Reluctantly, Stella turned to face the mysterious guest. The woman looked to be in her early thirties, and she wore a robe embroidered with an extravagant cross shaped like a star. The outfit marked her as a member of the Astral Church; her heavy makeup, however, seemed to say otherwise. She was smiling.

“Good morning, Miss Stella. I am Mellow, one of God’s humble servants in this town. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Sister Mellow. This is a surprise. What brings a sister to my poor abode?” Stella tried to sound polite. Provoking the Church would not be wise, for various reasons.

“You see, I have two matters to discuss with you. The first one concerns your parents.”

“My parents?”

“The Church has conducted their funeral and burial, as requested by the vermin—apologies, I believe his name was Beck—on your behalf. However, he seems to have forgotten something important.”

The offering, of course. Stella had been too busy to worry about that. In fact, she didn’t even know where her parents were buried, and she wouldn’t visit the grave if she did. Those lifeless husks weren’t her parents anymore.

“Of course. I beg your pardon for my negligence, Sister Mellow. Rye, go get the payment.”

“Please, there’s no need to rush,” Mellow said, chuckling softly.

Ugh. I don’t want to deal with her. Stella smothered her complaints with a business smile. Smile fought smile in the quiet room. Stella tried to imagine what this wonderful scene would look like from the outside.

“I hear business has been going well,” Mellow said. “You’re a talented young lady. Your parents would have been proud.”

“Thank you.”

“That said, there is one issue. Your flavored water . . . what was it called again?”

“The tears of falling stars?”

“Oh yes, that was the name,” Mellow said with a wince. “Utterly blasphemous. How dare you use the name of the holy stars in this manner? Oh God almighty!”

Mellow fell to her knees, head held in her hands. Stella felt tempted to kick her, but managed to restrain herself thanks to a pointed look from Rye. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Where to even start? By naming it so, you’ve all but declared war against the Astral Church. I could denounce you as a heretic on the spot.” Dramatically, with a stern expression, Mellow stood up and pointed a finger at Stella. “As head of the Peasbury branch of the Astral Church, I, Sister Mellow, demand that you either change the name of your product or stop selling it altogether.”

Stella could change the name, but that would harm the product’s popularity. It would be a major annoyance to do the marketing all over again.

Stella fell to her knees, covered her face with her hands, and started wailing like a child. It was an act, of course—a pointedly dramatic one.

“Please, Miss Stella, don’t cry. What’s happened?”

“I’m worthless. I don’t deserve the Astral God’s mercy, but I wanted to at least know what it feels like, so I chose that name. I meant no disrespect!”

“Is that so? Well, I’m sure He will understand that your intentions were pure. To keep the name unchanged, however, certain people will have to be persuaded. I would love to help, but . . .”

“Sister Mellow, I beg you. Rye, what are you waiting for? We need to prove our faith in God. Hurry up.”

Stella showed a number to Rye with her fingers. After some hesitation, the girl opened the safe and withdrew the specified amount. It wasn’t cheap, but getting the Astral Church’s approval would be well worth the investment. This was a win-win situation: Mellow would get a bribe, and Stella would be allowed to sell her product unimpeded.

“Please, Sister Mellow, take this. I hope you can offer me assistance.”

“Ah, how generous of you! When I saw your tears of distress, my eyes nearly welled up as well. You’re a faithful servant of the Astral God, and He knows it. I’ll notify headquarters. You needn’t worry yourself with this matter anymore.”

Mellow took Stella’s hand in hers, and their smiles crossed. Stella’s eyes and cheeks were unmarked by tears. There had been none to begin with.

“Come visit the church whenever you like,” Mellow said. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along splendidly.”

“Thank you, Sister Mellow. I’ll take you up on that offer someday.”

Mellow chuckled and left. Stella waved at her and smiled until she disappeared through the door. Well, time for my magic training, Stella thought, stretching. She was about to leave for the back room when—

“Nuh-uh, you’re not leaving yet! I have questions! Can I ask some questions?!”

—a desperate Rye blocked her way. That was funny, so Stella agreed to listen.

“What the heck just happened? Why did you start crying out of nowhere? What was that about? And who’s that sister anyway? None of it makes any sense!”

“Long story short, she came to extort me, but she couldn’t be too obvious about it. So I gave her a hand. I didn’t expect her to play along so nicely. That was fun.”

Stella was in a great mood. When she first saw Mellow, she’d wanted the woman gone, but overall, it had been a good experience. This was how grown-ups interacted in the real world.

“A sister, going around extorting people? Aren’t they supposed to act in the name of faith?”

“Faith won’t fill anyone’s stomach. You see, the more money she earns for the Church in the form of offerings and donations, the easier it’ll be for her to move up in the clergy. Generally speaking, I mean. I don’t know the specifics.”

“But the faith . . .” Rye held her head in her hands.

“What is faith, if not the use of God’s name and teachings to selfish ends? Well, if it gives anyone purpose in life, I suppose that’s fine.”

“By the way, did you actually cry or were you faking it?”

“I was faking it, obviously. It was hard to keep myself from laughing. If I’d looked at you, I’d have probably failed.” Stella chuckled. It had been really difficult to keep it in. More than she’d expected.

‘Well done, Master! Yer quite the actress, eh!’

“Oh, were you watching?”

‘Not cool, eh! It’s for yer sake I kept my mouth shut! Thought the Church wouldn’t appreciate a talkin’ bird, eh!’

“That was very considerate of you.”

‘Keke! I’ll ’ave you know I’m a paragon of consideration, eh!’

“If you say so.”

“What the heck . . .” Rye said, tearing at her short blond hair. “This isn’t how things are supposed to be! It isn’t!”

“If you’re so bothered by it, why don’t you start a religion? You’ll get to create your own god.”

Rye could pick her divinity of choice, be it a god, a goddess, or a demon, and create her own teachings to match. Then all she’d need was to build an impressive church, put a few religious murals and sculptures here and there, and act the part. For the rest of her life, of course. It sounded like hard work, but those who did it probably enjoyed it.

Stella had done that before, a long, long time ago. The whole thing had been ridiculous, but her companion, seeing it as a duty, had been dead serious about it. At least until a certain girl went and resolved the issue, removing the need for intervention.

“. . . I’ll pass,” Rye said. “That’d probably cause all sorts of problems.”

Stella nodded deeply. “Wise choice.”