The pristine snow-covered ground sparkled brightly in the sun’s rays, creating a beautiful winterscape of the kind that inspires bards to sing epic ballads of the world’s natural beauty. Completing this scene of beautiful severity was a small stone church, its multicolored stained-glass windows glittering in the sunlight like gems, smoke curling lazily from its chimney, a gray ribbon of invitation to all travelers.

Proceeding up the freshly swept cobblestone wall leading to the church’s entrance was a middle-aged woman in a simple blue dress with a soft grey fur-lined cloak draped over her shoulders. She paused at the oaken double doors of the church and cast her crystal blue eyes over her shoulder warily, as if looking for pursuers. Seeing no one, she placed a gloved hand on the latch and pushed the door open. The warmth that greeted her, combined with the scent of mayberry and the soft glow of the hundreds of lit candles scattered throughout the church instantly put her at ease. She stood a moment at the back of the church with her eyes closed, breathing deeply in an attempt to prepare herself for what she had to do.

“Milady? Are you well?” A soft voice spoke the silence. Opening her eyes, she saw a young priest in dark iridescent blue robes embroidered with the trio of peacock feathers that was the symbol of Madriel, patron Goddess of the church. His brown hair was tied back with a leather thong, his dark green eyes were full of concern. The woman nodded.

“Yes, Priest,” she answered. “I was just collecting my thoughts.”

“Is there anything I can help you with this day, or do you wish to be alone in prayer?” He gestured toward the pews at the front of the church where a handful of people were sitting in quiet prayer or simply gazing at the large silver statue of Madriel the Redeemer.

“I need absolution, Priest,” she said quietly, “for I have sinned, and I desire redemption. But. . .” She paused, her resolve shaken. "But would Madriel forgive me for what I have done?” she asked, her voice even quieter, a question asked more of herself than the priest standing before her.

Nonetheless, the priest answered her. “Milady, there is no crime so great that the Lady of Redemption could not forgive, no person beyond Her Grace. All you must do is turn to Her and ask.” He smiled warmly.

“Then you would hear my confession?”

“Of course, Milady,” the priest said, gesturing for her to follow him, “but not in the foyer of the church. I think one of the study rooms would be more comfortable, don’t you?”

She smiled for the first time as he led her into a cozy room at the back of the church. A stained-glass window on one wall filled it with multicolored light. As she took a seat, he asked her name.

“Terry,” she said, removing her cloak and draping it over the back of the chair.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Terry,” he smiled, settling into his chair. “I am Brother Draven. Now tell me why it is that you seek the forgiveness of Madriel?”

Taking a deep breath, Terry gathered her thoughts. “It started twenty-three years ago. I. . . well, I met a man, my first love.” She smiled weakly. “His name was Matthew. I thought we’d be together forever, but isn’t that the way of all first loves?”

The priest smiled and urged her to continue.

“Your smile reminds me of his, Priest,” she mused. Brother Draven waited for her to go on. “Before we were married, I became with child. He was birthed a few moons after our marriage. I named him Kyle. It was the happiest day of my life and the saddest.”

The young priest cocked his head to one side, brow furrowed. “Why is that?”

A tear trickled from Terry’s eye. “Because I knew I could not keep him. He was a beautiful little boy. I loved him very much. I wanted to keep him, but I had fallen out of love with his father while I was carrying him. After he was born I tried to make it work for his sake, but I just couldn’t stay with Matthew.” She sighed wordlessly as the tears fell. “Two years later, I left.”

“Why didn’t you take Kyle with you, Terry?”

“I. . . I just couldn’t. I had nowhere to live, no job, no money, nothing to eat. He would have starved. I set out to make a new life with every intention of going back for my baby once I could provide for him.”

“What happened?”

“His father moved away while I was ill. And when I finally went back, I couldn’t find him.”

Brother Draven nodded.

“Then I heard that Matthew was killed in the Talar War and Kyle was nowhere to be found. I feared him dead! And finally I gave up hope.” She sobbed openly. “I left his father because I wasn’t in love with him, and I just wanted to find love. Doesn’t everyone deserve that? To be loved?”

“They do.”

“I never wanted to leave my son out of my life. I didn’t mean to abandon him. I only wanted true love, but I didn’t want to lose my son for it.”

“Did you find love?”

She nodded. “Six years ago.”

The priest handed her a white linen handkerchief.

“He’s a wonderful man. He’s given me two children, a boy and a girl. But I’m afraid to be happy with them.”

He gazed at her intently, frowning. “Why?”

“I do not want to betray my firstborn by enjoying them, when I was never able to share my happiness with him.”

The priest gazed towards the stained-glass window and when he finally spoke, his voice was very soft. “Five years ago, a young man by the name of Kyle came to this very church seeking the guidance of Madriel. He was angry, very angry for the life of loneliness he had lived. After his father died in the War, Kyle lived as a vagabond, stealing food and sleeping wherever it was dry and warm.

“He felt betrayed by his mother, who had left home when he was very young. More than anything, the question burned through his mind: Why did she abandon me? He came here for guidance; he had learned of his mother’s whereabouts by happenstance, and knew she had a new family.”

Brother Draven turned to Terry. “He wanted to go to you and demand that you explain yourself to him. But he didn’t know if you’d recognize him or speak to him. He was counseled on the forgiveness of Madriel, and how She encourages forgiveness of all transgressions.”

“What did he do?”

“On the night of his twenty-first birthday, he left here to go to you, intending to demand answers. But when he returned, he told the priests that he never spoke to you. He saw you at an open window, staring up at the moon, crying and whispering his name. It was then that he knew that you believed him dead, and that whatever the reason for you leaving him, it was not done happily.”

She stared at him dumbstruck, her lips trembling. “My son. . . is alive?”

“Yes, Milady, he is alive and he wants you to be happy.”

“Where is he?”

“Ah, that I cannot tell you. Young Kyle had an opportunity to go to you, to tell you he forgave you, but he chose to let you continue believing him to be gone, so you could move on with your life. Once he recognized that your path and his had parted, he wished to keep it that way. All he wanted was an answer, and having obtained it, he wished you nothing but happiness.”

“Brother Draven, I thank you so much,” Terry whispered.

“I think the forgiveness you sought was not that of Madriel, but that of your own son. And you have been forgiven.” He smiled warmly as he stood. “In truth, your sin was one in your mind alone. I believe you to have done nothing wrong, but it certainly helps to talk, doesn’t it?”

Terry nodded. She stood up and pulled on her cloak, then embraced Brother Draven tightly. He held her closely for several long moments, and then led her back to the door of the church.

“Come see us, any time.”

“If I am in need of counseling, Brother Draven, I will return.”

He kissed her chastely on the forehead and opened the doors. He stood watching as she walked down the steps and onto the road, where she stopped and turned, smiling and lifting her hand in farewell. His own smile had turned melancholy. A single tear welled up and spilled out.

“Goodbye. . . Mother,” he whispered. Lowering his head, Kyle went back into the church. At last, he was absolved.

Somewhere in the eaves of the church a bird began to sing.