History

Rivas is in many ways a true child of Cantor Abbey. She arrived on the church doorstep as another 'infant in a basket' and become one of the abandoned children raised there. It was a simple but safe life, steeped in spirituality and timed to the church bells. The monks never hid that they were orphans - so while they assured them the abbey was their home and family, the question of belonging never went away. For some this meant melancholy or frustration. For Rivas this meant a desire to do good deeds like her seniors early, to feel worthy and one of them. She eagerly shadowed monks and canons about town, and became known as a helpful, caring girl.

It wasn't until the parents of one of her friends came to the abbey for a tearful reunion that they all began to openly wonder after their own. Some of her friends left seeking their real family, others stayed. Sometimes someone who left would come back with a story of disappointment. Sometimes they'd never come back at all, and all they could do was hope that meant their friend was happy. For Rivas who wanted nothing more than the companionship of the people already in her life, the slow dissolution of her little circle was something to fear. Her own turn came without her own bidding when an innkeeper brought suprising news - of a Mirian couple staying the night with a daughter uncannily like her... but by then she'd already decided that her real family was with the abbey. These strangers, even if they accepted her, were no longer her family. They'd decided that when they left her. Still the innkeeper insisted on giving her a folded slip with their names... and though she never opened it, she kept it.

It was natural then that while others scattered into jobs and lives outside, Rivas stayed to take her vows. Time went on and her horizons expanded bit by bit. A senior monk noticed her green thumb and taught her the shaman's craft. She began travelling as a canon, with the encouragement of an abbey father who wanted her to overcome her fears. She found it alright actually and became popular, even, for her caring and her way with nature. Her memory for and understanding of people let her smooth out many tiffs that came by her ear. By the time she hit adulthood, she had acquired soft influence, a glowing reputation and the deep belonging she'd always sought - but like all good things, her slow and comfortable way of life could not last.

First came the shock of Abbess Karmenie's murder - and with her death, the sense that Cantor's was safe in its rural bubble broke. Then came the burden of power. Though she was spared of the Abbacy itself to her relief, she found herself carrying more and more responsibility - as a trusted advisor, then as a stand-in for the Abbot, and now as Prioress. And while she keeps a brave face and cheerful manner, she nurses an unspoken feeling that she doesn't belong in her position, that she shouldn't really be in charge of anything.