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The night draped over the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela like a dark shroud, its towers soaring majestically against the starlit sky. Valeria moved with determined steps, passing through the cathedral’s doors, her eyes lifting to the Portico of Glory, and for the first time, she took in the millenniaold carvings, the figures sculpted as if to guard an everlasting secret. The grandeur of the site enveloped her; the pillars, the likenesses of saints and prophets, all exuded hi, a sacred silence that only these stone walls could whisper.
Her footsteps echoed in the expansive emptiness, and for a fleeting second, the external world seemed to pause. Yet, the tranquility was pierced by the flicker of blue and red lights seeping from outside, dancing across the stained glass windows. The squad cars had arrived, heralding the reality of her inaugural case.
She made her way to where she was expected. There, amidst the flicker of candlelight and the harsh beam of police flashlights, lay the body of Father Javier. Detective Valeria, her pulse quickened by the sanctity of the scene, drew near. Despite her training, nothing had primed her for the sensation of stepping into a holy place, now transformed into a crime scene.
With a focus only the urgency of the moment could summon, she bent over the body. She noticed the head wound, a deep gash that spoke of ruthless force. The marks on the floor suggested that Father Javier had tried to crawl, to seek help, but his attempts were futile. Nearby, blood had been used to trace a number: L4210. The figure, written with the dying will of the priest, was an enigma that Valeria could not unravel immediately.
In the cathedral’s shadows stood Don Anselmo, a canon with a stern demeanor and a deep voice, whose presence commanded respect. The man, with an expression of both sorrow and resolve, had been the one to alert the authorities. His face mirrored a blend of grief and anger, a silent demand for justice.
Valeria approached him, notebook in hand, ready to record every detail. Their conversation was brief, to the point. Don Anselmo recounted that he had only heard a shout, a cry for help. Upon arrival, the scene was already set: Javier’s body and the cathedral’s solitude as the only witnesses. With nothing more to add, Don Anselmo stood firm, his gaze locked on where Javier lay, as if seeking answers in the emptiness.
With each word she wrote down, Valeria felt the weight of her duty. She returned to the scene, her expert eyes searching for more clues. She gathered fibers, footprints, any evidence the sanctuary might yield. The cathedral, in its silence, harbored more secrets than it was willing to divulge, and Valeria knew that every corner, every shadow, might hold the key to unraveling this mystery.
With meticulous care, she concluded the evidence collection, ensuring each detail was accurately documented. The forensic team then proceeded to remove Father Javier’s body, leaving behind a cathedral that felt emptier, more mysterious. After a final glance at the scene, Valeria decided it would be wise to stay nearby, choosing an inn just a couple of streets away from the cathedral.
Dawn found her sleepless, the fragments of the case swirling in her mind without forming a coherent pattern. The clues, although plentiful, did not weave a clear narrative, and the number L4210 remained an enigma. After a shower that did little to relieve the accumulated tension, she prepared to return to the heart of the mystery.
Upon opening her room door, she started in surprise. Standing before her was Sister LucĂa, her Carmelite habit and serene gaze contrasting with the tense atmosphere Valeria carried. The nun, a member of the Discalced Carmelites, explained her presence with a calm and resolute voice: she was there to offer her assistance in the investigation, believing her knowledge of the environment and religious customs could be of use.
Valeria, still surprised but grateful for the unexpected aid, felt a wave of relief. The unknown complexities of the religious world surrounding the cathedral would be, at least, a little less daunting with Sister LucĂa by her side.
Both women stepped into the room, where the day’s light was just beginning to seep through the windows, casting the room in a golden hue. Valeria, noting the youthfulness of LucĂa, who seemed barely to have reached 29, felt a renewed respect for the dedication her presence implied.
Valeria, with a sigh, pulled out the photos and notes from the crime scene, spreading them across the table. “Look, this is what we have so far. I can’t see a clear connection.”
LucĂa, with keen eyes, scrutinized each detail. Then, she pulled a Bible from a hidden pocket in her habit. “This number, L4210,” she said, flipping through the pages swiftly, “it’s in the Bible.”
Valeria leaned in, her interest piqued. “Really? Can you show me?”
LucĂa opened the Bible to the Gospel of Luke, chapter 4, verse 2. “Here, Luke 4:2,” she read with a clear voice, “for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry.”
Valeria furrowed her brow, trying to piece it together. “And you think Javier was trying to leave us this message? Why this verse?”
LucĂa tried to understand. “This verse seems to speak of temptation, of trial. But how does it relate to what happened to Javier?”
Valeria, observing LucĂa’s expression, attempted to clarify. “Maybe what Javier wanted to say is that he was under some kind of trial, perhaps tempted by a great secret, something that was consuming him.”
LucĂa nodded slowly, her thoughts evidently racing. “That could make sense. Lately, Father Javier showed a significant interest in the hi of the relics of Santiago. He was investigating, searching for something.”
At this, Valeria turned her gaze back to the photos. In one of them, something caught her eye. “Look at this,” she said, pointing to an image where Father Javier lay. Around his neck, a medallion with the image of Saint James the Greater, the patron of the cathedral, gleamed subtly under the camera’s light. “Is this medallion significant?”
LucĂa looked at the photo, her face lighting up with recognition. “That medallion… it’s ancient, very ancient. Javier always wore it, saying it connected him with the very essence of this place. If he was investigating the relics, perhaps this has something to do with it.”
Valeria decided that the next step would be to search Father Javier’s office, convinced that they might find more clues there. With LucĂa by her side, they headed towards the cathedral. The sky, once clear, was now overcast with gray clouds, foreshadowing imminent rain.
Upon arriving at the cathedral, they went straight to Javier’s office. The atmosphere inside was one of tranquil solemnity, contrasting with the tension Valeria felt. She started to leaf through documents when her eyes fell upon some maps of the cathedral. Without hesitation, she took out her phone and started taking pictures.
At that moment, Don Anselmo burst into the room, his tone one of disapproval. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said firmly.
Valeria, looking up, responded with equal determination. “This is part of the investigation; we need to review these documents.”
Anselmo, with a look of displeasure, insisted. “The crime did not happen here; I ask you to leave.”
Reluctantly, Valeria and LucĂa left, but not before ensuring they had all the necessary photos. They then decided to head to a nearby restaurant where they could review the photos in a more relaxed environment.
Seated at a table with a street view, Valeria couldn’t help but notice a young waiter, their eyes meeting occasionally. LucĂa, noticing the distraction, called her to focus. “Valeria, we need to concentrate.”
Valeria nodded, turning her attention back to the photos. As they examined them, a mark on one of the maps caught her eye. “Look at this,” she pointed, zooming in on the image. “This spot is marked. We should check it out.”
LucĂa, with determination, agreed. “Let’s go then. But first, keep your mind on the case.”
In the restaurant, while enjoying a simple lunch, Valeria felt curious to know more about the young woman accompanying her. “LucĂa, how did you end up in the convent?” she asked in a gentle tone, trying not to be intrusive.
LucĂa, with a melancholy smile, responded, “I never knew my biological parents. I was given to the convent for adoption when I was just a baby. That’s where I grew up, and I guess that way of life adopted me too.”
Valeria, intrigued by a life path so different from her own, pressed on. “Have you never felt curious about the outside world? About life with a partner, for instance?”
LucĂa looked down, her face tinged with a slight blush. “No, not really. I’ve experienced love in a different way, a love for the sacred, for the community.”
Valeria, with a light chuckle, tried to share a bit of her own experience. “The world is vast, LucĂa. The beach, the sun, the adrenaline of a case, and also—” she lowered her voice, her eyes meeting those of the waiter, “the warmth of an embrace, of a, well, you know.”
LucĂa, with a mix of curiosity and resolve, replied, “I understand, and I appreciate your honesty. But I’m content with my life, Valeria. I find my joy in prayer, in service.”
Valeria, with a knowing smile, nodded. “I understand, and that’s admirable.” She shifted the topic, feeling she had skimmed the surface of a sea she wasn’t meant to sail. “So, shall we meet tomorrow morning in front of the cathedral? First thing, to check out that spot on the map.”
LucĂa nodded, grateful for the shift in conversation. “Yes, there at the cathedral.”
They finished their meal, sharing a complicit smile before parting ways, each with her own thoughts but with a new mutual understanding, prepared to face together the mystery that awaited them.
Night had fallen over the city, and with it, a quietness that only the whispers of the night breeze disturbed. LucĂa walked toward the inn where Valeria was staying, her steps gently echoing on the cobblestones. Upon arriving, she noticed some noises coming from inside Valeria’s room, but her mind, focused on the case, didn’t give them much thought.
With a gentle motion, she opened the door, and it was then that her eyes met an unexpected scene. Valeria, bare, stood there, illuminated by the room’s soft light. The surprise made LucĂa pause, but the urge to close the door was counteracted by something else, something that kept her with the door ajar. LucĂa, her heart pounding, kept her gaze fixed through the crack of the door. The sight of Valeria, her bare back moving in a hypnotic rhythm, rising and falling with a grace that only the purest desire could dictate. Her eyes drifted to the hands, masculine hands, strong and determined, that explored that skin.
Valeria then leaned back onto the man, her body merging with his in an act of physical intimacy alone. It was at this moment that LucĂa, for the first time, witnessed penetration, an act so natural and yet laden with meanings and emotions she had never before considered. Her own feelings were a whirlwind; the anxiety of intruding on a private moment, a strange excitement entwined with the curiosity of the unknown, and an inexplicable fascination with the raw beauty of human connection.
Caught between the urge to pull away and the desire to understand, to feel, to experience through what she saw, LucĂa couldn’t close the door. She stayed there, her ears catching Valeria’s gasps, each sound amplified by her own uneven breathing, as feelings swirled within her, challenging everything she had known until that moment.
Valeria, engulfed in the wave of her passion, sensed LucĂa’s presence. With a subtle turn of her head, her eyes met those of the nun through the narrow opening. The smile Valeria offered was one of complicity and acceptance, somehow inviting her to be part of that moment, if only as a witness.
Overwhelmed by embarrassment, LucĂa quickly closed the door, but the echo of what she had witnessed kept her rooted on the other side, warmth rising in her cheeks. Despite her attempt to retreat, the sounds from within the room held her captive.
Each moan from Valeria filtered through the wood, each one resonating within LucĂa like an echo from a world she barely knew. LucĂa’s imagination, without the need for explicit visuals, filled with sensations: the rhythm of the movements, the crescendo of gasps, all weaving through her mind.
The sounds shifted, becoming deeper, more intimate. There was a new urgency, a change in tone that, while LucĂa couldn’t quite define, her instincts suggested something different, more direct. Valeria’s gasps, mixed with heavier breathing, indicated an impending climax, the culmination of passion which, though not fully understood by LucĂa, she could sense the emotional and physical weight of that moment.
With each breath that seeped through the door, LucĂa found herself submerged in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations, challenging everything her life had been up to that point, leading her into a place of questions and internal discoveries she was only beginning to explore.
The sounds eventually subsided, leaving a silence charged with emotion. LucĂa, still caught in the storm of her imagination, was pressed against the door when suddenly, it opened. Valeria, wrapped in a sheet, appeared at the threshold, sending off the young waiter who had been with her with a smile.
Valeria, noticing LucĂa’s presence, tried to make an introduction. “Oh, wait. What’s your name?” she asked the young man, seeking to complete the formality.
“Daniel,” he replied with a friendly smile.
“LucĂa, this is Daniel.” Valeria, with a gesture, tried to smooth over the awkward encounter.
Daniel, with a nod, said his goodbyes and left, leaving Valeria and LucĂa alone.
With a playful look, Valeria commented, “You don’t know how to knock, do you?”
LucĂa, still trying to regain her composure, replied, “I didn’t know you had company.”
Valeria let out a light laugh. “Neither did I, but sometimes, a bit of company helps to relieve stress. Believe me, it’s sometimes just what you need to get the ideas flowing.”
LucĂa, remembering the purpose of her visit, tried to focus on the urgent matter. “Valeria, we can’t wait until tomorrow. We need to go to that spot on the map now. Tomorrow the cathedral will be full of priests; it’ll be harder to move around unnoticed.”
Valeria, upon hearing this, nodded seriously, immediately shifting her demeanor. “I get it. Let’s go then.” With a disarming casualness, she dropped the sheet, revealing her figure without shame. “I’ll take a quick shower,” she said, heading towards the bathroom.
Overwhelmed by the situation, LucĂa tried to avert her gaze, yet something about Valeria’s confidence made her hesitate. As Valeria turned and walked towards the shower, LucĂa couldn’t help but follow her with her eyes, feeling a shade of envy for that selfassurance Valeria exuded, an assurance that, in that moment, reminded her of the scene she had witnessed.
After her shower, Valeria, now dressed in comfortable clothing, and LucĂa, still processing her emotions, made their way to the cathedral. The night wrapped the place in a reverent silence, barely disturbed by their cautious steps. Guided by the map, they moved carefully, though for LucĂa, every corner of the cathedral was familiar. Yet, there was a new anticipation, a hope that Valeria, with her trained eye for the unexpected, might uncover something she had overlooked.
They walked in silence, the echo of their footsteps reverberating through the vast vaults. With each step, LucĂa replayed Valeria’s confidence in her mind and couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to possess that same selfassurance. But her thoughts quickly refocused on the purpose of their visit; the marked spot on the map was supposed to lead them to a new clue.
The map guided them to a more secluded area of the cathedral, where the imposing statue of Saint James the Greater stood in a niche. Upon arriving, they found only silence and a few insects fluttering near the dim light of a votive candle.
Valeria, with her flashlight in hand, examined the area while LucĂa watched with a mix of hope and disappointment. At first, the scene seemed devoid of any relevant clues. However, Valeria didn’t give up. Her gaze fell upon a small insect crawling at the base of the statue.
“Look at this,” Valeria said, bending down for a closer look. “It’s a cave beetle.” Her voice carried a tone of discovery. “These insects only thrive in places with high humidity and constant darkness.”
Intrigued, LucĂa came closer. “Are you saying that?”
Valeria nodded. “Exactly. If this beetle is here, it means there’s a source of moisture behind this statue, something more than meets the eye.”
With determination, Valeria tried to push the statue to see if there was anything hidden behind it. The statue, though very heavy, shifted slightly under her effort. “Help me, please,” she asked LucĂa.
Together, with a coordinated effort, they managed to move the statue just enough to reveal a concealed opening in the wall behind it.
Valeria’s flashlight illuminated the interior, revealing a chamber filled with dust and cobwebs, but also scattered documents and some objects that suggested someone had been there recently.
The place had an air of sanctity and mystery, as if time had stood still within those stone walls. Valeria and LucĂa stepped inside cautiously, their footsteps echoing in the crypt’s expanse.
On an ancient wooden table, they found a bone fragment, carefully wrapped in a linen cloth. Next to it was a note written in an intricate code. LucĂa, upon seeing the writing, paused, her eyes sparkling with recognition.
“This is an encryption…” she said, her voice filled with awe, “used by monks in the Middle Ages to protect sacred texts from the uninitiated.”
Intrigued, Valeria moved closer. “Can you decipher it?”
LucĂa nodded, taking the note with trembling hands. “Yes, though it will take some time. This type of encryption is based on substitutions and sometimes on the position of letters within certain Latin phrases.”
While LucĂa started to decipher the code, Valeria focused on the other objects. There were used candles, an old quill, and an inkwell, signs that someone had been writing or studying there not long ago.
Inside the crypt, illuminated only by Valeria’s flashlight, LucĂa’s concentration was palpable as she worked on the cipher. Her fingers moved with precision over the note, and with each word she deciphered, her breathing quickened. Finally, she looked up with a mix of astonishment and urgency.
“I’ve managed to decipher it,” she announced. “It speaks of the ‘Code of the Portico of Glory’.”
Valeria, furrowing her brow, didn’t hide her confusion. “The Code of the Portico of Glory? What does that mean?”
LucĂa, with a tone of certainty, explained. “It’s a term that refers to a set of symbols and hidden messages in the Portico of Glory of the Cathedral. It’s said to guard theological secrets and perhaps more worldly ones, like maps or directions to sacred places or treasures.”
Valeria absorbed the information, her mind already working on the implications. “We need to take this note and the bone fragment somewhere safe. We can’t continue here.”
Carefully, they repositioned the statue to its original place, ensuring everything looked as it did before. They left the cathedral, the night’s silence enveloping them as they walked back to Valeria’s inn. Each carried with them pieces of a puzzle that was beginning to take shape, a secret seemingly tied to the very structure of the cathedral.
Just before reaching the inn, the sky opened up, and rain began to pour down in torrents, forcing Valeria and LucĂa to run for shelter. Upon entering the room, both were completely soaked, water dripping from their clothes to the floor.
Valeria, laughing at the situation, turned to LucĂa. “We need to get out of these wet clothes. Here, put this on,” she said, offering LucĂa one of her pajamas.
LucĂa, though uncomfortable with the idea of undressing, understood there was no other option. She accepted the garment and went to the bathroom to change. Emerging, the sight of LucĂa in Valeria’s borrowed clothes was startling. For the first time, Valeria could see LucĂa’s long black hair, her figure without the habit, revealing a hidden beauty beneath the nun’s attire.
“LucĂa, you’re really beautiful. You’re like a magnet for any man,” Valeria commented, her tone sincere and admiring.
LucĂa, blushing deeply, lowered her gaze, unsure how to respond to such a compliment. “Thank you, Valeria,” her voice was barely a whisper. “But what do we do now?”
Valeria, already with her phone in hand, had dived into research. “I’m looking at images of the Portico of Glory.” She looked up at LucĂa. “At dawn, we’ll go there.”
LucĂa, with a mix of skepticism and resignation, responded. “Many have looked for something, but there are only statues and reliefs. No hidden messages have ever been found.”
Valeria, with a determination lighting up her eyes, insisted. “Then, we’ll see it with our own eyes. Maybe we need a new angle, a different perspective.” Her gaze settled on LucĂa with confidence. “Believe me, sometimes what we’re looking for is right in front of us; we just need to know how to look.”
LucĂa nodded, though her expression still reflected doubt. “If you say so, Valeria. But there’s something about that place that defies logic.”
Valeria smiled, understanding LucĂa’s reluctance but also her curiosity. “We’ll uncover it together. At dawn, we’ll go to the Portico. Maybe, between the two of us, we can see what others haven’t.” She closed her phone and looked at LucĂa with a reassuring smile. “Now, you should rest. It’s going to be a long morning.”
Valeria, moved by LucĂa’s innocent inquiry, sat up slightly, choosing her words carefully. “It’s not about pain or discomfort, not if it’s with the right person,” Valeria began, her voice gentle. “It’s about connection, about sharing something deeply personal and beautiful. Yes, it can be overwhelming, but in a good way. It’s supposed to feel pleasurable, to bring joy and closeness.”
LucĂa listened intently, her eyes reflecting a blend of curiosity and a touch of melancholy. “I’ve lived my entire life in the convent. My world has been so small, so… controlled. I’ve never questioned my vows, but now, seeing more of the world outside, I wonder what I’ve missed out on.”
Valeria reached out, placing her hand over LucĂa’s in a comforting gesture. “You haven’t missed out on anything. You’re here, learning, experiencing. Life isn’t just about one type of experience or another; it’s about the choices we make and where they take us. And it’s never too late to explore or to change your path if that’s what you feel you need.”
LucĂa gave a small, thoughtful smile, squeezing Valeria’s hand in return. “Thank you, Valeria. For your honesty, for everything. I don’t know if I’ll ever act on this curiosity, but knowing, it helps.”
The rain continued its steady drumming, providing a rhythmic backdrop to their conversation. Valeria, lying back down, added, “Whatever you choose, make sure it’s for yourself, not because you feel you’ve missed out. Every path has its own beauty.”
Silence fell between them again, but it was a comfortable silence, filled with the new understanding and mutual respect that had blossomed between them. As the night deepened, the rain’s lullaby eventually coaxed them into sleep, each woman pondering the vast complexities of life and the myriad paths it offers.
Valeria, hearing the sincerity in LucĂa’s voice, felt a wave of responsibility and affection. She knew that for someone like LucĂa, who had never experienced the intimate touch of another person, this curiosity was natural and deserved to be approached with care. She took a moment, choosing her words with precision. “It’s complicated, LucĂa. It can be many things.” She smiled, trying to convey warmth, and continued, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. “What you saw, LucĂa, isn’t necessarily what’s known as making love. has many ways of being expressed, and everyone experiences it differently. Many like to do it with someone they love because they feel the surrender is greater and the sensations are intensified. But for others, the thrill comes from danger, the adrenaline of a stranger, a lover, a friend, or even your best friend’s husband. It’s something you’ll have to discover for yourself, which sensation completes you more.”
LucĂa, with her curiosity still unsatisfied, asked timidly. “And you, Valeria? Which one do you like the most?”
Valeria looked at the ceiling, reflecting. “I haven’t known love, LucĂa. I’ve only experienced for pleasure. So, I can’t tell you how it would feel to be touched by someone I love. That’s a type of sensation, I suppose, that’s reserved for when the heart is involved, not just the body.”
LucĂa, with a mix of curiosity and astonishment, asked in a whisper, “But, how does it feel when, when a man is inside you?”
Valeria, catching the intensity of the question, responded with a deeper tone, her words laced with a sensuality attempting to explain the unexplainable. “It’s not just the act of being inside, LucĂa.” Her voice grew softer, almost a whisper. “It’s how he sets the stage, how he looks at me, how each caress anticipates what’s to come.” As she spoke, Valeria let her hand slide beneath her pajama pants, beginning to touch herself subtly, as if to illustrate her words.
“Once his tip is at the entrance, he begins to prepare to enter.” Her eyes closed slightly, her breath deepened. “The wetness inside me welcomes him, and I feel how—” Valeria paused, her hand moving with a deliberate slowness. “It’s like a wave, LucĂa. When he enters, there’s a fullness that spreads, a sensation of being filled, but not just physically. It’s every nerve in my body responding. And when he pulls out only to enter again, there’s a mix of relief and desire, as if each movement were a promise of more.”
LucĂa, watching Valeria, noticed how each word seemed to pull her deeper into this unknown world. LucĂa’s curiosity was tangible, mixed with a fascination she couldn’t hide. Valeria, noticing LucĂa’s attention, continued. “It’s a dance, LucĂa, where every step, every movement, builds a just between the two. And believe me, every is unique.”
LucĂa, immersed in Valeria’s explanations, felt an internal struggle. One part of her, driven by curiosity and human nature, wanted to experience those sensations as well, but the other, conditioned by her vows and her life as a nun, kept her in a silent conflict. She watched Valeria, noticing how each of her words seemed to weave a tapestry of sensations she could barely imagine.
With a tone revealing a subtle sadness, LucĂa murmured, “Unfortunately, that is not my life.”
Valeria, catching the melancholy in LucĂa’s voice, responded with a sincerity that touched the heart. “But, what if satisfaction could also be yours, in a different way? I’m not talking about breaking your vows, but about understanding that exploring the body and mind is also a path to selfunderstanding.”
LucĂa’s question, arising from curiosity and the tension of the moment, was direct. “Have you had with another woman?”
Valeria, with a mischievous smile, turned slowly towards her, her eyes meeting LucĂa’s. “No, not yet.”
Feeling a wave of embarrassment for her own question, LucĂa blushed and turned away quickly, giving her back to Valeria. “Sorry for asking that. We should sleep, tomorrow will be a long day.”
Valeria, with a smile that LucĂa couldn’t see, responded in a soft tone. “Sweet dreams, LucĂa.” And with those words, both settled into the bed, enveloped by the sound of the rain, which was gradually subsiding.
As sleep claimed them, each was lost in her own thoughts. LucĂa, although uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation, couldn’t deny that Valeria’s words had awakened a part of her she had always kept dormant. Valeria, on her part, felt a mix of satisfaction for having shared and a renewed curiosity about what the next day would bring, especially in the company of someone like LucĂa, whose life was marked by simplicity and sacrifice, but whose mind and heart, she now knew, were far more complex than any habit could contain.
The dawn arrived, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold. The morning light filtering through the curtains slowly woke Valeria, sleep still heavy on her eyelids, when the sounds of LucĂa moving around the room pulled her from her slumber. She opened her eyes just in time to see LucĂa, already dressed, adjusting her habit with haste.
“Good morning,” said Valeria, her voice still hoarse from sleep. “Why the rush?”
LucĂa, with an expression of urgency, replied, “We need to get to the cathedral.”
Valeria, sitting up in bed and stretching, answered with a smile, “They don’t know breakfast here, LucĂa. The Portico has been in the same place for years. First, we’ll have breakfast. We can’t face a mystery on an empty stomach.”
LucĂa, though clearly impatient, couldn’t help but smile a little at Valeria’s logic. “I suppose you’re right. But quickly, okay?”
After a quick breakfast and a more thorough review of the images and texts about the Portico of Glory, Valeria and LucĂa made their way to the cathedral. Upon arriving, they stood before the majestic portico, a spectacle of Romanesque art that seemed to defy time.
Valeria, looking at the sculptures and reliefs, murmured, “It’s impressive, but what does all this mean?”
LucĂa, with a tone of reverence, began to explain. “The Portico of Glory is a masterpiece, an entrance to the earthly paradise.” She pointed upwards. “Look, there’s the figure of Jesus Christ at his second coming, surrounded by the twentyfour elders of the Apocalypse, each with their musical instrument, symbolizing eternal praise.”
Valeria followed LucĂa’s gaze, noticing the intricate work in each figure. “It’s incredible how every detail tells a .”
LucĂa nodded, her eyes scanning the portico. “Exactly. And here,” she said, directing attention towards the columns, “are the prophets and the apostles. Each one with their own character, their own .” She moved closer to a column. “This is Saint James the Greater, the patron saint of Spain.”
Valeria, observing the figures, felt small in the grandeur of the place. “And all these reliefs, do they also have a meaning?”
LucĂa, with a smile, responded, “Every relief, every figure. Here,” she pointed at a relief, “you see the souls in purgatory pleading for mercy. And next to them, the righteous and the damned, separated by judgment. It’s a representation of life, death, and what comes after.”
Valeria, absorbing the depth of each detail, realized the enormity of the project and its significance. “It’s like a stone book, a visual encyclopedia.”
LucĂa, with a gleam of enthusiasm in her eyes, continued. “And every time someone passes through here, it’s as if they’re crossing the threshold into the divine. This place is not just a physical door to the cathedral, but also a symbol of spiritual transition.” She paused, observing Valeria. “Do you see how the columns have a peculiar texture? It’s said that pilgrims would touch them to receive indulgences, believing that touching them brought them closer to the forgiveness of their sins.”
Valeria, with genuine awe, touched one of the columns. “It’s tangible, the hi, the faith, everything. But do you think there’s something more here? Something not visible at first glance?”
LucĂa, after a moment of reflection, responded. “If there’s something hidden, it’s designed to be found by those who truly seek. This place is a labyrinth of symbols, and perhaps, just perhaps, there are clues that have gone unnoticed by everyone for centuries.”
Valeria, with an analytical look, moved her eyes from one relief to another, noticing subtle differences in the figures and ornaments that at first seemed uniform. While LucĂa explained the historical details, Valeria paused in front of a column where the apostles’ reliefs were particularly detailed.
“Wait, look at this,” Valeria said, pointing towards a figure of Saint Matthew. “Do you see how his hand is positioned? It seems like he’s pointing at something, but it’s not towards the sky like the others.”
LucĂa approached, observing closely. “You’re right. Normally, Matthew is depicted writing or with a book, but here—” She paused, her mind processing. “And there,” she pointed at another relief, “Saint Luke too. His ox, instead of being behind him, seems to be in a position that could indicate a direction.”
Valeria furrowed her brow, following LucĂa’s finger. “And if we look at the direction they’re indicating,” she walked a few steps to the side, “it seems like they form a line, some kind of guide.”
LucĂa, with growing astonishment, began to follow the imaginary line Valeria had drawn. “If we follow this line, it leads us to—” her eyes widened with realization, “the University of Santiago de Compostela’s library!”
They looked at each other, the intrigue and eagerness to uncover more filling them with renewed energy.
Valeria, now convinced they were on the right track, glanced around. “So, these reliefs are not just art, but they also form a map, a guide to something or someone significant.”
Without wasting a second, Valeria and LucĂa headed towards the University of Santiago de Compostela, whose library was just a short distance from the Portico of Glory. Upon arrival, the university’s imposing structure welcomed them with an air of scholarship and mystery.
They entered the library, a realm of silence and wisdom, where the scent of aged paper and leather surrounded them. Valeria approached the librarian, a middleaged man with bifocal glasses and a meticulous demeanor.
“Good morning,” Valeria started, her voice low to respect the ambiance. “I’m Valeria, we’re investigating a case and could use your assistance.”
The librarian looked up, intrigued yet skeptical. “Investigating? How can I assist?”
Valeria, showing her investigator’s badge, explained. “We’re interested to know if a priest, Father Javier, used to visit here before his passing.”
The librarian, upon hearing the name, furrowed his brow in recognition. “Ah, Father Javier. Yes, he was a regular visitor.” He stood up from his seat. “Please, follow me.”
They followed him through aisles crowded with bookshelves to a section dedicated to historical and religious manuscripts.
“This is where Father Javier used to spend hours,” the librarian explained, pointing to a table with several chairs and a yellow light lamp. “He came quite often to look at some manuscripts related to the cathedral’s hi and the legends of Saint James the Greater.”
Valeria, with a mix of excitement and determination, asked, “Could we see those manuscripts he used to consult?”
The man nodded, pulling out a pair of white gloves from a drawer and handing them over. “Of course. But please be careful, some are very fragile.”
LucĂa, as she put on the gloves, murmured, “Thank you. This could be crucial for our investigation.”
The librarian left them with a stack of manuscripts, each one older and more delicate than the last. Valeria and LucĂa began to examine them, searching for any clue Father Javier might have left behind.
After hours of meticulous research, Valeria, with tired but alert eyes, came upon a manuscript that immediately caught her attention. It was ancient, with edges worn by time, but what made it stand out were the recent notes and lab results tucked between its pages.
“LucĂa, look at this!” Valeria exclaimed, her voice barely containing the excitement. “It talks about the Keepers of the Key.”
LucĂa, quickly moving closer, read over Valeria’s shoulder. “‘The Keepers of the Key’ What is this?”
Valeria, with trembling fingers, opened the manuscript to a page where an 18thcentury confession was written in shaky handwriting. “It says here that the skull of Saint James was questioned in the 18th century. They decided to keep it a secret to not disturb the faith and the flow of pilgrims.”
LucĂa, with wide eyes, murmured, “So, it’s true?”
“Yes, but there’s more,” Valeria continued, pulling out a more modern sheet. “This seems to be the lab analysis Father Javier requested. The results,” she paused, looking at LucĂa. “Indicate that the bone fragment is not from the time of Saint James. It’s a forgery.”
LucĂa, taking in the information, covered her mouth with her hand. “So, Father Javier was murdered over this?”
Valeria nodded, her mind connecting the dots. “Exactly. Someone must have found out about Father Javier’s investigations and took extreme measures to protect this secret. The Keepers of the Key, this secret group, must have been behind it all.”
LucĂa, still processing the impact, asked, “And what does the confession say?”
Valeria read aloud. “‘I confess to the forgery to maintain stability and devotion to Saint James. It was necessary for the Church, for the people, for faith.'”
LucĂa, with a mix of awe and sadness, looked at Valeria. “So, all this time, they’ve been protecting a lie.”
Valeria, with a tone of determination, responded, “Not just protecting, but killing to keep it secret. Father Javier must have been very close to revealing the whole truth, and that made him a target.”
“This could change everything,” said LucĂa, her voice barely a whisper. “But what do we do now?”
Valeria, seeing the concern in LucĂa’s eyes, noticed how she got lost in her thoughts. Finally, LucĂa murmured, “I remember Father Javier had arguments with another priest. I don’t recall his name, but his appearance was unmistakable. Tall, piercing eyes, always with a look of concern.”
Valeria, catching the significance of this information, asked, “And after Javier’s murder? Have you seen him again?”
LucĂa shook her head. “No, since that day, he hasn’t been seen again. It’s like he vanished.”
The sun was beginning to set, and the library, with its air of mystery, filled with shadows. Valeria, aware of the urgency but also the need to plan, said, “It’s late, and we’ve discovered more than we expected. Let’s go back to the inn, there we can think more clearly.”
On the way to the inn, Valeria’s mind was racing, processing every detail. “We need to find that priest. If he disappeared right after the murder, he could be crucial.”
LucĂa, walking beside her, nodded. “But how? We don’t have his name, just a vague description.”
Valeria, with renewed determination, responded, “We’ll start from where we know Father Javier was most frequently: the cathedral, this university, and any other place where he met with other clerics. Someone must know something, and with a bit of luck and some contacts, we can track him down.”
Upon arriving at the inn, night had fully fallen. Valeria took out her notebook, jotting down everything they had discovered and what they needed to do next.
LucĂa, feeling a bit out of place, moved towards the door. “I think I’ll let you work. You need space.”
Valeria quickly stood up from the desk where she’d been taking notes. “No, stay. You can wear one of my pajamas. Actually, I’d like you to be here.”
LucĂa, feeling a mix of relief and excitement about their progress in the investigation, nodded. “Okay.” She headed to the bathroom, and while she showered, Valeria ordered food to be delivered to the room.
Once they had both showered and changed, the atmosphere in the room shifted. There was a new camaraderie, an intimacy forged by shared work and uncovered secrets. Valeria noticed that LucĂa seemed a bit distant. “What’s wrong, LucĂa? You seem thoughtful.”
LucĂa, with a melancholic smile, replied, “It’s just that we’re close to finding out who killed Javier. And after that, I won’t see you again.”
Valeria, touched by LucĂa’s sincerity, moved closer and took her hand. “You’ll meet lots of friends, LucĂa. You just have to open up to the world. There are so many wonders waiting for you.”
LucĂa nodded, but her look spoke volumes, with a voice tinged with vulnerability and determination, she gazed directly at Valeria. “But you, Valeria, have been more than just a partner in this quest. You’ve been an unexpected discovery.”
Valeria, feeling the weight of LucĂa’s words, replied softly, “And you have changed my perspective on many things, LucĂa. You’ve shown me that the passion for truth can coexist with other passions.”
The atmosphere in the room became charged with a new tension, one that transcended the investigation. LucĂa, with a voice that slightly trembled, continued, “I don’t want this to end as just a professional collaboration. I want to remember this, you, in a way that makes me feel that everything we’ve done had personal significance too.”
Valeria, understanding the moment, moved closer, her voice a whisper. “LucĂa, this has all been personal from the start. More than I thought it would be.”
LucĂa, with an impulse she couldn’t contain, closed the gap between them. Their lips met in a kiss that carried the weight of all their emotions, a kiss that not only sealed their connection but also promised that, no matter what the future held, this moment would be a turning point in their lives.
The kiss deepened, a blend of lips and breath that seemed to want to express everything left unsaid. LucĂa, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, seemed slightly desperate, as if she feared the moment might slip away.
Valeria, sensing her urgency, softened the kiss, her hands gently caressing LucĂa’s face. “Slowly,” she whispered against her lips as she guided her toward the bed, laying her down with care.
LucĂa, with her heart pounding wildly, lay back, feeling Valeria with delicate movements slip off the bottom part of her pajamas. The fabric slid down her legs, leaving her exposed and vulnerable on the softness of the sheets.
Valeria, with a fluid motion, climbed on top of her, now without her pants, and began to remove the top of her pajamas. The fabric lifted, revealing skin in the dim light of the room. LucĂa, following Valeria’s lead, started to remove her own shirt, but in that moment, her necklace, a crucifix, fell into view.
The symbol, reminding her of her vows, made her breath catch. Valeria, sensing the shift, looked at her with concern, ready to stop if LucĂa wished. But LucĂa, with a decision shining in her eyes, took off the necklace and placed it on the nightstand. Her smile, though shy, was a clear sign that she did not want to stop.
Valeria returned to her lips with a kiss that now carried a touch of reverence. Their bodies, now without the barrier of tops, met, skin to skin, as Valeria’s breasts brushed against LucĂa’s, sending a wave of shivers through both of them.
LucĂa’s sensations heightened as Valeria’s lips found her neck, a whisper of caresses that sent electric sparks through her skin. Each kiss was an echo of longignored desire, an acknowledgment of her body that had never experienced such intimacy. LucĂa felt her pulse beat beneath her skin, resonating with every touch of lips that told her, without words, she was utterly desired.
LucĂa’s breathing grew deeper as Valeria, with a softness that contrasted the intensity of the moment, began to explore her nipples. A heat spread from that point, a fiery current coursing through her veins, driving her into a state of arousal that made her arch towards Valeria, seeking more of that torturous pleasure.
Valeria, with a devotion that seemed drawn from a dream, kiss by kiss, journeyed southward on her body, a descent towards a place LucĂa knew would be her undoing. When Valeria reached her destination, LucĂa felt an anticipation that was almost painful, a yearning that built within her like a storm about to break.
Then, Valeria, with a tenderness that belied the act, gently parted her legs. The cool air kissed her heated skin, but it was the first touch of Valeria’s lips that made her gasp. The experience, new and intoxicating, was a delicious invasion, an exploration that took her to the brink of a pleasure precipice she had never known.
Lost in ecstasy, LucĂa felt her body respond with an intensity that both scared and excited her. Each movement from Valeria brought her closer to a climax that promised to be overwhelming. The excitement was so intense it nearly hurt, a pleasure so sharp it was almost unbearable, pushing her toward boundaries she had never crossed before.
Her breathing turned into gasps, her hands tangled in the sheets, seeking something to hold onto amidst the storm of sensations Valeria was giving her. The feeling of being so utterly consumed by desire and pleasure brought her to a place where the world shrank down to that space between her legs and Valeria’s expert attention.
LucĂa, in an impulse that seemed to rise from the depths of her being, brought a hand to Valeria’s head, her fingers entwining in her hair, guiding her with an urgency she didn’t know she possessed. Her body, as if it had a will of its own, began to arch more, each movement a reflection of the pleasure she was experiencing, an involuntary dance towards ecstasy.
As her hips began to move, following the rhythm set by Valeria, LucĂa looked down, encountering a sight that fascinated and intoxicated her. Seeing Valeria so dedicated to her pleasure was a spectacle that added another layer of excitement and eroticism. The image of Valeria pleasuring her with such devotion took her to a place where reality and pleasure melded into a single experience.
For Valeria, the sounds escaping from LucĂa’s lips were a symphony of pleasure, each moan, each sigh, a feedback loop that encouraged her to continue, to delve deeper, to push LucĂa towards the breaking point.
Finally, LucĂa’s climax came like an explosion of light and sensation, a tsunami of ecstasy that swept through her, making her cry out in a mix of release and wonder. Her body tensed and then relaxed in waves, each one taking her beyond any known boundary.
Valeria, feeling the storm of emotions and sensations from LucĂa, slowly rose, their bodies still vibrating with the echo of shared pleasure. She lay down beside her, their faces close, eyes closed in a moment of shared peace, their breaths synchronizing in the stillness after the climax.
LucĂa, with her heartbeats still echoing in her ears, felt a mix of euphoria and gratitude. In that blissful state, a question emerged from her lips, almost as a whisper. “Valeria, who did it?”
Valeria, slowly opening her eyes, looked at LucĂa with a blend of tenderness and surprise at the question. But before she could answer, LucĂa continued, her voice a murmur of realization and awe. “You did it.”
Valeria, understanding the depth of the question and the answer, required no further words. She simply nodded, her smile a silent confirmation of all they had shared, not just in that intimate moment, but throughout their entire quest and adventure together.
With no more need for conversation, they embraced, their bodies still warm and their energies connected by the shared experience. Their eyes closed once more, finding in the embrace a refuge where the outside world couldn’t reach them.
Dawn broke, and the sun, like an intruder into their privacy, filtered its light through the curtains. Valeria and LucĂa remained in the peace of sleep, wrapped in the sheets and the warmth of their embrace, until the insistent knocking on the door, with an urgency that would not tolerate delay, pulled them from their halfawake state.
Both jumped out of bed, the urgency of the knocking indicating something was amiss. Quickly dressing, still disoriented from the abrupt awakening, Valeria noticed something strange in the air. With caution, she picked up her gun and approached the door, opening it carefully.
Before her stood Father Anselmo, with an expression of urgency and alarm. He entered without waiting for an invitation, his eyes, quick as a hawk’s, took in the scene the unmade beds, the scattered clothes, and the palpable tension in the air.
He looked at LucĂa with contained fury, but she, finding newfound strength within herself, returned his gaze without shame. Valeria, taking charge of the situation, adopted a professional tone. “Father Anselmo, we were about to come see you. We’ve made an important discovery and need access to the records to identify a priest.”
Father Anselmo, his look betraying any concern for Valeria’s urgency, addressed her with a voice that held both authority and suspicion. “I know you’ve been in the library, Valeria. What did you find there?”
Valeria, aware she needed to be careful with the information, replied cautiously. “We found clues that might lead us to Father Javier’s killer.”
Father Anselmo, frowning, insisted, “What kind of clues?”
Valeria, sidestepping the question, said, “We need to identify a priest who had an argument with Father Javier. Do you know who that might be?”
Anselmo, clearly uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed, answered with a voice trying to stay composed, “That would be Father Miguel. But, why do you ask?”
Before Anselmo could finish, Valeria cut him off, “Where is Father Miguel now?”
Anselmo, with a mix of resignation and alarm, replied, “He was found dead this morning. It’s believed to be suicide.”
Valeria, feeling the investigation’s knot unraveling in an unexpected way, looked at Anselmo with a mix of suspicion and urgency. “Father Anselmo, what exactly do we know about what we found in the library? There was information about the Keepers of the Key.”
Upon hearing this, Anselmo visibly paled. The tension in the room grew, and the atmosphere was charged with a palpable sense that they were nearing an uncomfortable and dangerous truth.
Valeria, still with the gun in hand, approached Anselmo. “Father Anselmo, how did you know we were in the library?”
Anselmo, trying to maintain his composure, replied with a voice that tried to mask his discomfort. “I have my ways of keeping tabs on things.”
Valeria, not breaking eye contact, pressed on. “And why exactly are you here, in this room? You thought I’d be alone.”
Anselmo, with a mix of challenge and avoidance, stated, “I had matters to discuss. It’s my duty to watch over.”
Before he could finish, Valeria cut him off, her tone sharp as a knife, “What were you really coming for?”
The air grew even tenser, Valeria’s question hanging like a veiled threat. At that moment, LucĂa, who had been silently watching, could no longer hold back. With a voice ringing with conviction, she exclaimed, “You killed Father Javier!”
As LucĂa’s accusation reverberated through the room, the atmosphere turned explosive. Father Anselmo, with a speed no one anticipated, drew a gun from his belt, already fitted with a silencer, and aimed directly at Valeria.
Before Anselmo could pull the trigger, Valeria, with reflexes honed by years of training, reacted. She fired twice in quick succession: the first shot hit Anselmo in the shoulder, causing the gun to drop from his hand, and the second shot struck his leg, bringing him to the ground.
Valeria, without hesitation, approached and disarmed him, then handcuffed him with efficient movements. Meanwhile, LucĂa, her hands trembling, pulled out her phone and dialed emergency services to alert the police.
Valeria, still pointing the gun at Anselmo, spoke to him with a firm voice laden with determination. “I know the secret you tried to keep by killing Javier, but you made a mistake. I got all the evidence, Anselmo. And I assure you, the world will know the truth.”
Anselmo, with pain echoing in his voice but with a look still trying to retain some of his lost authority, looked at Valeria. “You can’t do this, Valeria. Think of the faith, think of what this would mean to thousands of believers. The destruction would not just be of one person, but of the trust in something greater than all of us.”
Valeria, with a flicker of doubt in her eyes, responded, “The truth is the truth, Anselmo. I can’t allow corruption to be hidden beneath the cloak of faith.”
Anselmo, with a mix of desperation and conviction, continued, “The truth, Valeria, is a doubleedged sword. Yes, there is corruption, and yes, I have sinned. But revealing this would destroy lives, erode the faith of countless people. The church is not just one man; it’s a symbol, a guide for many.”
“And what about justice?” Valeria countered.
“Divine justice sometimes does not align with human justice,” Anselmo, breathing with difficulty, pressed on. “I have borne my sin and will continue to bear it. But think of the repercussions. Faith is fragile, Valeria. A revelation like this wouldn’t just destroy me; it would impact so many innocents. There’s a reason why certain secrets must remain hidden. Not for us, but for the greater good.”
Valeria, slowly lowering her gun, looked at Anselmo, her mind wrestling between the truth and the consequences he described. “You speak of a greater good, but at what cost?”
Anselmo, closing his eyes for a moment, replied, “The cost of a soul, Valeria. But it’s a price I’ve already paid. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, but for you to consider what faith means to so many. The church, the believers, they shouldn’t bear my sin.”
Valeria, feeling the weight of his words, took a deep breath, her mind processing the dilemma. “And what about Father Javier? His death?”
Anselmo, with an expression of genuine regret, said, “Javier wanted to reveal the truth, believing it would be for the best. I couldn’t let that happen. But his death, his sacrifice, must not be in vain. Let his memory serve for the church to cleanse itself from within, not to be destroyed.”
Valeria, with a mix of determination and sadness, looked at him intently. “You’ll pay for your crime, Anselmo. But Javier’s truth, the church’s truth, will stay between us. It’s the only thing I can do to honor his memory and protect what he loved.”
Anselmo, showing neither gratitude nor visible remorse, accepted his fate, knowing that although his sin would remain hidden, his penance would be public.
Several days had passed since the turmoil and revelation, and Valeria was in the small room that had been intensely shared with LucĂa. The room was nearly empty, her belongings packed, ready for a new beginning elsewhere. The morning light filtered in softly, creating an atmosphere of transition, of endings and beginnings.
LucĂa was there, but she no longer wore the habit that had defined her for so long. She was dressed in simple yet elegant clothing, reflecting her new path of selfdiscovery and freedom. Her eyes, though full of emotion, also displayed a renewed determination.
Valeria, with a backpack over her shoulder, approached LucĂa. “You don’t have to stay, you can come with me.” Her voice was gentle, but laden with hope.
LucĂa, with a melancholic smile, replied, “There are things I need to resolve here, Valeria. Unfinished business, not just with the church, but with myself. I need to close this chapter on my own.”
Valeria nodded, understanding the significance of personal journeys. “Promise me we’ll meet again soon. I don’t like the idea of leaving you behind.”
LucĂa hugged her tightly, her arms conveying a temporary goodbye. “I’ll find you, Valeria. There’s no doubt about that. But right now, I need this time.”
The farewell was emotional, filled with silent promises and looks that spoke more than words could convey. Valeria, with one last look at LucĂa, stepped out of the room, her figure gradually disappearing down the hallway, carrying with her the promise of a reunion, leaving behind a piece of her heart, hoping to see her again.
