It felt like years since he last donned the blue robes of a Confessor of his rank, the Templar. Mercuxio Rastognlir wore the white blue, and gold trimmed robes over the heavy but maneuverable armor that had been fashioned just for him. Every sanctuary had a blacksmith, and every smith forged weapons and armor particular to the Confessor who ordered them. Blessings were later placed upon such items, to give them special strength and reinforcement where other weapons might be brittle and easily worn. Only in moonlight could the blessed runes be seen, in a half-light gleam as it ran across it.
Moonlight shone on them this night as the Confessors, Templar Merric and young Templar Kentamin, rode hard across the Valley on horseback, riding hard toward the city of Uthlyn, where the desecration of a chapel there had long since occurred. The months of his furlough had been all but forgotten and whatever connection he'd regained with his family was put in the back of his mind. The Order had sent them to the site of the desecration, and Mercuxio knew his duty came first before all else.
Merric did not speak to his apprentice more than he had to, for Kentamin was young and before him, there had been no one younger to achieve the rank of Templar so quickly, and despite his rank, which seemed to have been bought rather than earned, he still had much left to learn. Mercuxio was the ranking Confessor in this excursion and Kentamin would take orders from him, and his input would only be required when asked for. But the boy was eager to learn and he supposed there could be worse candidates for such a task.
Night had congealed around them by the time they had arrived into the gates of the city, and their robes were concealed by cloaks and Merric followed the directions given to him toward the burnt-down chapel. It was a horrid sight, but the inward disgust he was feeling was cleverly concealed by a stony face. Merric could only guess at the mindset of the perpetrators and what they would find within the ashes, that had since been rifled through by street rats.
He dismounted his black horse and motioned his apprentice to follow him. He said nothing still to him, stepping around the rubble, and he stepped back and peered back to Kentamin. "Tell me, what do you make of such a sight?" he asked at last.
Kentamin Dhelsbar was indeed, a fresh young face added tot he ranks of the church's prestigious templars. Perhaps a few favors brought his way in, but Kentamin's determination could not be shaken,a nd had gained him at least some respect amongst the elders. And he looked up and admired them with diligence and studiousness; and of course, was always eager to help. When he was assigned to help check the ruins of the church for more clues, he was more than happy to be able to assist.
And as the two approached, to see the reckage so close at hand made the young Templar frown as he scooped up some of the ashes and squeezed his hand around them as his fist shook at the rage that was building inside him.
"I think someone's going to pay,"t he young templar said bitterly as he tossed the crushed debris back down onto the ground. "Who could have done such a thing?" He shook his head. "And these are the times we live in." The boy seemed to sneer. "Though Angsar bless us, I hope we can find some clue to get whoever did this and find them.. so they can hang."
"An astute assumption," Mercuxio replied quickly. There was less irritation in his voice than he would have liked to have presented, but he moved back toward the horses and pulled a torch out it. Striking a match, he lit the wrapped tip until it was encased in fire and stood closer to the rubble and wreckage. "But that is not what I meant. Here, come with me. Try not to disturb the ashes more than they already are."
Merric stepped in the middle of the church ashes, carefully and as softly as possible as he inspected their surroundings. "I mean what clues do you see here? Where does it seem as if the fire started? What caused it? Anything that might have been left in the wreckage? A Confessor does more than simply prepare to smite all foes before you. You must stay alert, keep your eyes open, be aware of all your surroundings."
Naturally, the young man's goals were a bit different than what Mercuxio would have liked- but most young boys were ignorant and thought nothing more than battles being something glorified. But at least this one was quick enough to know not to continue his focus in that direction as he gave a curious tilt of his head at Mercuxio's words.
"Where has it been started? Seeking a fire's founding origins is hardly in my expertise, Lord Rastognlir. But I shall try my best to find clues if it helps in reprimanding a criminal of Angsar."
This was definitely going to be a learning experience for the young man as his eyes began to cleave their way through the ashes as his boots weren't quite as uncareless as Mercuxio would probably like as the pair trudged their way through.
"So, do you think magic started this fire?" Kentamin asked, his eyes still roving for some sort of answer or clue. "They said the priests weren't even awake for morning mass when this had started, so I suppose we can only deduce it hadn't started in their rooms."
It was here Merric paused in a long hallway, long since burned away from the fires. But the stone aspects still remained- one, a pair of spiraling stone steps up to the belltower, and the other, he observed, stone steps leading into a basement.
"Do you think we might find any clues in these remains, sir?"
"That is the point of coming here," Merric said with thinning patience. "We are to see what we can find amidst the rubble, anything that wasn't plucked by common rabble. Now start in rthe opposing corner of the chapel, the one right across from me and start digging. Care not about soiling your robes, that is what they are for anyway."
Merric handed Kentamin the torch and took another from his saddle and lit it. "Search inch by inch, and if you find anything usual, alert me immediately."
This search was ridiculous...Not only.were.the.gingerly.sifting.through each piece of debris inside the fallen church, but the now dusted young templar was growing hungry and.more.irritable, and as they continued in their.research, he released an annoying sigh as he picked up a half burned bible uncovered for.the fourth time.with.th.ashes.
"There seems to be nothing here. If the fire began on this wing then the fire ate most.of.our evidence." Pissed this was.resulting in litttle.more.than his robes.getting filthy, he turned with a sigh to leave, almost not catching the rusted necklace that scraped beneath his foot.
"Then you obviously do not see the point of our being here do you? We look until we find something, anything that would shed some light on the events here. Do not simply rely on what your eyes initially tell you. Instead look upon the way they tell you. The manner of words spoke matter just as much, if not more, as the words themselves." And it was just when he finished that Merric heard the scraping of metal to stone and ash between them and he suddenly perk up from his own digging. "Stop! There! Move your foot." Mercuxio stood and stepped carefully between the ashes and soot before coming down toward the necklace underneath Kent's foot. He held it gingerly in the palm of his glove. "Now, this is something unusual. And not picked off by those alleyway vermin," he remarked.
"Yeah but what's one necklace going.to.do.to.help us out? From all this rubble, its.actually more strange.we'd find such a piece of.jewelry. unless you want.to believe.that incessant'Lady.of the Revolution is still alive' and it.belongs to her
:.. anyway, does the necklace.offer.some.sort.of.a.symbol of importance or origin? Maybe we can get.some.off of it, considering a lady.of.the church shouldn't.wear such a thing."
Ooc: passer, its attalia's necklace! Might be sad if it were one metric.gave to her D:
"Sometimes I wonder if you purposefully let that brain in your skull gather dust or is it some debilitation from birth," Merric said grimly, not even bothering to look at his apprentice. "Stop generalizing and start thinking, Dhelsbar. I can't be doing all the thinking for the both of us."
Merric examined the pendant in his hand and turned it over carefully. "But, despite your shortcomings, you did offer one useful comment. That a woman of the chuch ought not to be wearing such an expensive item. And certainly not a priest either, unless he was looking to be robbed. This style of amulet is particularly expensive, with the diamonds and emeralds ecrusted around the center of a small heart, engraved at the center. Bring that light over here boy," Merric stepped in closer to the torch and viewed the inscribed initials. "A.A."
The necklace seemed all that more familiar with the mention of the initials and he could have sworn he knew someone who wore a similar necklace. It wasn't a very popular design, but those that purchased it had a particular taste and one that reminded Merric of someone he had known quite well. Attalia Arrant. But that she could be involved in all this seemed even more preposterous.
Kentamin sighed, "So.you deduced a lady of means was trying to escape this way when It happened..Hrmm, that is interesting. Though she.might have been at the right place but the wrong time. Women, silly.little things. Seems.she thought the streets would be safe at inight,.let alone herself. I wonder.what drew here at such an hour."
Turning to Merrick he gestured towards th steeple.
"At least., this section is still standing. Shall we take look?"
Mercuxio silently listened to Kentamin's ruminations - for the young man seemed to enjoy wagging his mandible, and the Confessor, for the moment, was inclined to let him - while he held the pendant quietly in his hands. His eyes were laid upon it and he studied every detail he could, to seal it into his memory, to brand it there with fire and hot iron. And he knew the chances of this necklace belonging to the one person he knew it belonged do were growing exponentially with every breath.
And only when Kent gestured up to the spire did he look up to the young man. "Yes, that would be a much better place to look. Now bring the torch, and lead on."
OOC: Man my last post was so special XD you can tell I posted that one when I was in the hospital via my phone :T
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Kentamin nodded, and taking a torch and a breath, lead the way. The spiraling stairs leading up seemed to go up forever, an the young boy, had he not been in better shape, would have surely died by the time he got to the top, but he was still panting nad sweating none the less as he wiped his forehead and stepped out into the bell tower. It was pretty open, and as he approached, was somewhat startled when pigeons took off, fluttering nad leaving a snowy trail of feathers in their wake. He swore inwardly and sighed before turning back to Merric. "Seems like not much to find up here." He said, not realizing there was a hanging corpse stinking up behind one of the bells, that was... until his nostrils caught wind of the smell and he covered his nose.
"Ick, it smells worse than horse shit up here." And he found himself gagging as he drew out a silk kerchief and placed it over his nose nd breathed in that smell over the other odor, but still.. he wrinkled his nose of it. "Did the pigeons shit up here that much to make this place smell?"
And still, even as the boy was grumbling and looking around, the 'stiff' fly catching body remained, with a small trail of dry blood beneath it- but it was positioned just enough out of the way that the young boy would ont have seen it.. but perhaps to the trained eye.. one might.
Mercuxio was not so out of breath as Kentamin was, strange as it was, for he was older. But he had been doing this for many years, longer than the boy had been alive. He might have been a priest, but he'd never been one to become so complacent with his station that he allowed himself to become old and fat and inert. A Confessor, particularly the Templar, was always moving, always listening, always learning, and always deducting.
Merric stood beside the younger man and his overreaction toward the smell in the spire. He turned and saw the body hanging in the corner, his eyes more adjusted to the dark than Kentamin's since he was not holding the torch. "Seems we have a visitor just hanging around," Merric commented nonchalantly, ignoring the young Confessor's unsightly comments. Which was good for the boy. Merric might have thrown him out of the window if he kept on.
"Let's cut him down. Give me your blade," Merric instructed and looked around for a set of boxes that rose up from the side, allowing him to reach the rafters.
Kentamin was taken back by the body, and at the mention to use his weapon, he drew back with a gasp, kerchief still over his mouth and nose as he.griped,
"My blade? Is it wise to use a blessed item on something so foul?"
Truth be told, he figured he'd have frsh blood be the first thing to soil his blade, not the grime of some corpse!
Ooc: As soon as I have a moment, I need to look up whose body.this was from my other thread XD
Merric moved toward Kentamin, glaring him right in the eye before reaching a hand around his waist and pulling the sword from his belt. "You do as you're told," he said and snatched it. He climbed the steps that the boxes formed and carefully climbed up toward the rafters until he reached the old, rotted rope and slammed it against the wood, cutting the rope and dropping the body toward the floor. It landed with a dull thud and he jumped down, landing with a grunt. He gave Kentamin the courtesy of cleaning his blade from the dust and dirt before handing it back to him.
Kentamin was bewildered, and stared slack-jawed at the man before nearly dropping his blade when it was given back to him. And when he finally turned towards the corpse, he made a face.
"Gods, it reeks," he gagged again, pinning the kerchief over his nose and mouth again, but it only took a few seconds for him to realize, "Hey, this is no member of the church." And if anything, it looked like guards clothing.
"Perhaps a soldier of some kind," Merric remarked, when he walked around the body. He was well rotted with all the time that had passed up here, but the priest didn't appear at all fazed by the smell of the body. He had dealt with worse things in his lifetime. "Check his pockets for anything in particular, that might signify identity or anything else," Mercuxio commanded, looking at Kentamin with hard eyes and an expression that told him he would club him if he refused.
Kentamin froze at the command, and felt the pit of his belly grow icy as he cringed back into reality. A wind swept in through the bell tower, fluttering his hair; though it wasn't the winds chill that had him almost teary eyed. THough what had he expected when he signed up? And after numbly moving to search the body, he noticed, with a gasp-
"There's blood!" And then upon further examination, he noted, "Looks like a knife wound." For at least he could see it appeared too shallow to be a sword. Though by now his heart was in his throat and his mind racing, he was able to calm himself down enough to realize he had taken a note from the man's pocket.
"H-here. I found this." And he was too lame by the experience to try to open it and read it himself, lest he'd realize it was a name of the cargo of mages that had been brought into this very place! And... even a few name of the priests over seeing the task.... Though it was not all of them, and some of it had been faded away by the recent rains that had soaked the rotting corpse's clothes.
"And he's got a few silver on him, but nothing more."
Mercuxio nodded to Kentamin's commentary and deduction skills as it were. Well, it wasn't really a deduction as so much as stating the obvious. Searching the corpse's pockets and body would have only produced such items as his apprentice just described. "Good work," he commended while gingerly taking the note he produced in a gloved hand.
He gingerly unfolded the moldy and blood-stained paper. Most of the writing seemed to be illegible and written in some kind of code that he could not readily decipher with just a single glance. He would need to examine it in better lighting and when not in the company of bumbling fools like Kentamin.
"Perhaps he was a priest. And the guard's hauberk was simply thrown over his body as a disguise," Mercuxio suggested, examining the area where the man was apparently stabbed, but the cloth itself wasn't pierced.
"Maybe," Kentamin said, still feeling a bit on edge to have had to man handle a corpse. It gave him the willies! And he shivered and tried to shake it off before blinking and glancing over towards Merric.
"What's written on the paper? Anything of consequence?" The boy asked, trying to sneak a peak at it, though it was difficult to see in such poor lighting.
Mercuxio averted Kent's eyes and moved a little out of the light and pursed his lips in thought. "It is difficult to read in this lighting," he said. "I'm not sure though it does seem to be a list of some kind. Of people no less. Unless my eyes deceive me and these names are cattle."
"Well if the man were a mage and that were a list of his friends, then it would be of little more consequence than a list of cattle. Though I suppose we ought to report this in, along with the body and that necklace?" Kentamin inquired with a sniff, peering around the bell tower as he shivered. "You wouldn't think it'd be so cold up here. THough you don't suppose there are any more bodies? Or is it this bugger who just reeks so godawfully bad." And Kentamin readjusted the kerchief back over his nose.
"Are you a man?" Mercuxio asked Kentamin, giving him a hard scowl. "Because you gripe and whine like a mammy or a nursemaid. Your hair would certainly make you look like one. If indeed you are a man, you'll remove the clothes from that body this instant for cataloguing or I'll flog you here and now and personally see to it that you're at a desk for the next fifty years of your life!"
Kentamin was taking back by the reprimand, gritting his teeth through it all. Not only had he mocked him, but now he was barking out orders and threats. Seething below the surface, he tried to swallow down his pride as he realized, sadly, this man was right. He had to obey and help him, but he couldn't help but gripe, "Well, alright." And he huffed. "At least I brought a bag I can put those clothes in." And he made a face as he began to undress the man, dropping his shirt when maggots were found crawling beneath it from the wound.
"Angsar's name, this is so gross." He could have wretched, but swallowed back the acid rising in the back of his throat before turning his eyes away and shaking the maggots of the clothe. Shivering, he folded the clothes into a pile and proceeded to undress the rest of the man, and with the clothing shoved into a bag, he tightened the cord and tied it shut before slinging it over his shoulder.
"So are we to just leave the body up here?"
And part o fhim hoped they would. He had a feeling he might be the one to carry it if it were necessary, and he wasn't fond of the idea of dragging a naked corpse alllll the way down those spiraling steps. Especially since it was now crawling with maggots and stunk to the high heavens. Yes, he could not wait to be done with this chore!
"You did well boy," Mercuxio said with a satisfied nod. He had put away the note and the necklace that had been found for safekeeping - not trusting the apprentice enough with such significant items. No, he was more suited for menial work and heavy lifting. Lest, Merric be forced to beat some humility into him. But before the younger priest could make a face of disgust, possibly expecting him to carry the body back, Mercuxio gave a dry laugh and shook his head.
"No, I will carry it back. We could possible learn more on how this man died by inspecting the body," Mercuxio nodded to the younger man and moved around the attic until he found something suitable to carry it with. He didn't mind the smell very much - or at least certainly didn't show it - and when he found a large burlap sack, he dusted it off from the ash and walked over to carefully move it around the body and the maggots. It was quite stiff for being as old as it was but he managed to stuff it into the bag before tying the end up.
"I think we've gathered what we could here for now. Most of the street rabble have come along and scavenged what goods they could find on their own. At least none of them thought to come up here. You did well, Kentamin," Merric said, giving him small praise despite all his whining.
Kentamin would have felt more from the praise had he not been wrinkling his nose over the idea of actually bringing the corpse down with them. Though it seemed as they made their way down the spiraling stairs, Mercuxio did not utter a single ounce of complaint, and though Kentamin could commend him for it, he wouldn't open his lips to ever say it. So once they were back in the ashes and rubble of the building, Kentamin released a thankful sigh.
"So should we continue the investigation? I heard some of the basement might be intact. Who knows. We could find more dead bodies down there." And his tone, while trying to remain indifferent, definitely had a hint of sarcasm in it's bite.
Kentamin really should have kept his mouth shut.
Mercuxio hoisted the body down toward the horses and gave a nod to the younger Confessor. "That is the first good idea you've had all night. And you can carry the rest of them up here. Let's go have a look." Mercuxio led the way this time, moving stone and mortar where it impeded their path toward the stone steps of a makeshift basement.
They were used to store all manner of supplies for a small chapel such as this - food, rations, blankets for the poor, and a massive tankard for water, and many other miscellaneous items.
Kentamin scowled inwardly at himself, but part of it was still worn on the outside. He really SHOULD have kept his mouth shut. Silently following, for it was all he could do, the pair made their way into the basement. The first level, they would find, was a normal cellar, but it was evident here was another layer heading down to something deeper, and after Kentamin freed the door, he peered down into a darkened stair case and held his torch forward.
"A second basement... " he mused out loud, and the dankness coming up from the bottom put an unnatural anxiousness that formed a knot in his belly. "I wonder what the church keeps down here..." but even a boy his age was not ignorant to the rumors, and the idea that this church might have kept mages, in hopes to 'cure' them through... experiments, made him recall all the horror stories told to children when he was growing up. He just hoped one of those 'creatures' wasn't still alive.
Though as they entered the basement and there was no bodies in sight, the tell-tale signs of torture were everywhere. Stains of blood still lingering and rusted chains across stone tables. It made Kentamin frown.
"Well.. no dead bodies," he said, and peered over at Mercuxio. "So should we head back up now?" He couldn't wait to get out of here. It gave him the chills.
Kentamin may not have been ignorant to rumors, but he was ignorant to listening, humility, obedience, and just all around common sense. But Mercuxio couldn't really blame the boy. He hadn't had time to grow into his potential yet. He was young and needed to be molded in the right shape, the right direction, lest he fall out of place within the ranks. Mercuxio did not hold any sympathy for the poor fool, but it was only that he hated to see potential go to waste.
Now if only he could get out of this basement fast enough. It seemed, he proved to be some use and pointed out a small, narrow door half hidden behind a bookcase when the light of Merric's torch hit it. He moved toward the door and gestured toward Kentamin to look through the rest of the basement while he set the torch on the torch rack and moved the bookshelf out of the way, revealing the door. It seemed like it was hidden in a rush, and the door was locked, but not for long.
Mercuxio's boot went through the door and it slammed nearly off it's hinges. Then he took the torch back in hand again and proceeded through the darkness of the chamber.
Kentamin gave a snort at the find, his voice echoing into the darkened staircase below.
"A secret area, what in the bloody hell do you think the church was hiding?" Though even as he spoke the words outloud- he already knew. Following quickly behind Mercuxio, lest he have to fumble down steps in the darkness, Kentamin held his breath and followed his teacher blindly into the waiting dark.
Mercuxio did not answer his apprentice and instead used the torch to focus more on what the light lit in his path. The room did not stir a sickness in his gut as he might have suspected, instead it only solidified his earlier suspicions. While it might not have been unusual for a church to be destroyed in these turbulent times, he knew there had to have been a more strategic reason behind the assault. The man being hung, the priest disguised in a guard's uniform, the list left in his pocket, the dagger in his body.
Mercuxio saw a table spread at the center of the room, across from it was another table, stained here and there with obvious signs of blood, a roll of tools that had been used as instruments of salvation - or whatever it was the priests were really doing here. The table at the center had clasps for the appendages, even one for a man's organ should the need arise.
"Taken here...to be questioned? Or cleansed?" Merric mused to himself mostly, but was said aloud nonetheless. "You'll come to know that the Church hides many secrets, Confessor Kentamin. Some of which is best if you didn't know. But some, we'd best uncover before things like this happen. Look around, see what you can find."
Kentamin moved uneasily through the room. He had a bad feeling about this place, as if something darker were at work- perhaps magic, he dare not say. He crossed his hands across his chest and peered over at Mercuxio before nodding and moving around the room.
"Do you think the church has documentation for this room?" he wondered out loud , seeming not to find much of anything, except more stains and a few scattered pieces of debris. Though nothing was significant- though he had found something blackened inthe corner, and upon kicking t, he made a face.
"Looks like the fire was down here, too." Though there was no evidence of that- but a blackened book lay crumpled and in pieces at his feet.
"Obviously not," Merric reasoned. "If they kept any official record, it would not be in a place readily seen. It would be less obvious." He made a face at the extraction tools rolled out on the table and he carefully rolled them back up and tied the strip of leather around it. "What was that?"
He pointed to Kentamin and what resided at his feet. "What is that? That book."
"I don't know. But it looks all burnt. The pages are all black. When I kicked it, the thing practically broke in half."
At that, Merric gave an exhausted sigh. He walked over and carefully picked up the delicate book in his gloved hands, careful not do any more damage to it than what was already done. He opened it as gently as he could and scanned the blackened ink. "These look like journal entries. By Bishop Carlo Asti, apparently," he observed as he flipped pages.
And as he turned the page, one of them had a half drawn image of a woman- and the eye and piece of hair, and partial shape of a nose that remained, not lost to the fires, resembled something close to a familiar of his- Lady Attalia Arrant.
When his eyes rested on the image of Attalia, Mercuxio did pause for a long second and he felt a knot quickly building within his throat. His expression,however remained stony and he turned the page as if it were nothing. "Seems mages were being taken here for crude experimentation," he said, scanning the pages and burying Attalia's umage underneath as many of them as he could. "They were likely unpleasant experiments, meant to cleanse them of their magic. I gues they didn't realize only a Confessor could do that..."
Kentamin peered over at Mercuxio.
"Yes, but who's to say the church might not be able to find a way? If there was a way to extend Ansgar's blessing..." And peering around the room, he was just glad he'd never have to be on the end of whatever it was that was going on here.
"They deserve it anyway." he said, witha sniff. "Bodies tainted with sin ought to be cleansed, one way or another."
"That very well may be, but we should care in that it is our duty to purge them from that sin, Kentamin. And I think we have as much as we can get from this place. The rest of it has been cleared out. Let's take out leave now," Merric nodded to the younger man. He nodded to him and took the torch from the rack.
Kentamin grumbled but followed.
"Thank Ansgar. This place smells weird." And he didn't bother to cast a glance back as they made their way up the stairs.
Mercuxio gave a glare at Kentamin for a moment just before flashing a ghost of a smile. Yes it did smell down here. Like the taint of magic and the smell of fear. As the departed the ruins of the chapel, Mercuxio snuffed out the light of his torch and put it back into the slot on his saddle. But just before he was about to mount the horse, he gave a pause and looked out to the darkness of the street. He was silent, but it seemed his eyes were piercing something that was not readily visible. "Have caution. I feel as though we are being watched. Let's walk our horses out," Merric said, grabbing the reins of his black steed.
Kentamin made a face and glanced around.
"I don't see anything." Or anyone. Staring after Merric, he retrieved his own white horse and slowly walked behind him.
It mattered not that Kentamin saw no one. The boy had only proved himself to be largely useless, but he had in a manner of speaking proven to be of minor use. It was a shame that Mercuxio had to report on his apprenticeship, but he wasn't going to elaborate or exaggerate if he didn't have to. When they were out of the street and nearer the edge of the city, Merric threw himself into the saddle and turned his horse around toward the younger man. "We take these things to the nearest Sanctuary, Rosenstern Abbey approximately fifty miles south of here. Prepare yourself. We will not be stopping for anything," he said and promptly trotted off.
Kentamin made a face before placing his boot int the stirrup and throwing his leg over the saddle. Once mounted, he pressed his heels into the horses side and trotted so he could catch up to Merric's side.
"Not even to rest? Seems an awful long time to go without a piss break," he grumbled. "Or something to eat."
"Then piss now!" Mercuxio growled. He cast him a final look of disdain and turned his horse and stuck his heels into his sides. The horse neighed and bolted off in a full gallop.
Eyes were watching them every step of the way, and perhaps two steps in front of them (no thanks to Kentamin's whining and need to stop every two hours), but they eventually made it and the winds had picked up, ruffling hair of horse and rider. Kentamin shivered within his armor. At least it kept him relatively warm, but he had hoped the weather could have held out for this sort of journey.
By the time they made it to Rosenstern Abbey, it had begun to rain, and the boy slipped off his horse and helped guide it to the stables before removing his cowl once they got indoors.
"Shitty weather," he muttered, removing his gloves then wiping at the rain trickling down off his nose. "At least they've got a fire going in here. Shall we go speak to the head priest? I'm sure we shouldn't delay with any of this information."
Though as Kentamin stood there with Mercuxio, he noted the priest at the end of the pews, though a man, somewhat familiar, was standing beside him. He wrinkled his nose.
"Who's talking to the priest?"
He couldn't have known it was the Duke of Castavar's son- Leif Arrant. But one cold gaze cast their way was directed upon Merric. Yes... Leif knew Mercuxio too well and it seemed an awkward reunion was to be had.
"Ah, Mercuxio! What brings you here?" the priest called down the way to him. "And who's this with you? A knew priest in training I take it?"
[They would likely know each other, being priests n all. And he would address him as Father Merric, not Mercuxio, for future know-how]
"Nobody of any note," Merric answered calmly once they made it into the abbey. Why Leif Arrant would be here of all places was beyond him. It was a remote location, a small chapel outside of a farming village. But Merric knew if anything, likely the man was here because it had something to do with him. As the priest was approaching, Merric muttered for Kentamin to keep his mouth shut before he bowed his head to the priest.
"Good evening Father Lionel," he said. "This is Brother Kentamin. I am sorry our arrival is so late. It was a long journey from Mennelburk. We had few moments of rest."
"Oh yes! I forgot you were coming. Please forgive me, of course. Excuse me Lord Arrant. You must be exhausted from riding so far." Father Lionel nodded for Kentamin to follow him and Merric walked a bit down the aisle. His weapon had since been removed from his side and their horses were tended to, as well as the evidence collected from the scene of the burned church, all brought down the Sanctuary below. Merric stood only in his clean robes, as he had directed he and Kentamin to change before entering the Abbey.
He looked at Leif in the dim candlelight of the church and bowed his head to the young lord. "Good evening, Lord Arrant. What brings you to here this evening?" he asked softly.
Lord Arrant regarded the other man coldly. He knew Mercuxio well enough, as he was no idiot to the men his 'dead' sister kept with; but that was not the reason he looked at the other man in mild disgust (though then again, Leif looked at just about anybody that way..)
And as he looked at the priest coldly, he simply replied, equally so, "A prayer."
"Yes," Father Lionel brightened. "You see.." and then his expression turned a bit more grave. "The church Lord Arrant attended-"
But Leif cut him off.
"It burned to the ground." And Leif did nothing to hide his disgust for his sister's former 'friend'.
At the revelation, Merric's face was stony and cold and he stared at Leif with eyes of ice. "I've heard the news. It is a tragedy in this day and age that not even a chapel is a haven for the weak and weary. This war has brought many a man to his knees."
He bowed his head and signed across his chest before looking back at Leif again. "I see the matter is troubling you deeply. Please rest here for as long as you need Lord Arrant."
Leif gave a nod of his head.
"You're too kind, Father Merric," and was his voice extra strained and rough when he spoke Mercuxio's name? That much could be missed, though there was a sharpness to Leif's eyes.
"I might even so much as stay the week..."
Mercusio caught the glimpse in his eye, for his guaging was as sharp as an arrowpoint and honed in on it like a hunter. He curled his lips up and gave the young nobleman a rare smile and another bow of his head. "As a house of God, you are more than welcome here. Please stay as long as you want," he reached across to take Leif's hand and shook it firmly. "It is good to see you again. Old friend."
Leif said nothing and simply turned away. He had nothing more to say to Merric, besides- he had work to do..
Kentamin frowned as Leif Arrant left.
"What a rude fellow," he commented under his breath. "I hope we're not staying the week, too."
"No, we can't be afforded that luxury," Merric said with a frown. He watched Leif from the corner of his eye and he peered to Kentamin. "Perhaps we should visit the Prayer Room first. And you can ask Ansgar to forgive you for your transgressions," he suggested. "A part of being a member of this Order is learning a little humility. Think about that for a moment."
Kentamin stared gapingly at the other man, but stilled his tongue- for he knew too wlel, (by now) that if he angered 'Father Merric' any further, he'd suffer a lot more in the end. Sighing, he simply followed after and parted ways when he entered the prayer room- and grumbled a lot more than prayed as he knelt before the private alter inside.
Next to the Confessional, Mercuxio stepped inside the prayer box and Father Lionel stepped into the opposing side. It felt strange sitting on the other side of it, instead of listening to the Confession of a sinner. He nodded to Father Lionel and bowed his head. "Forgive me Father for I have sinned." At that the other priest nodded to him and opposite the entrance door was a secret door that led to a staircase that led up above the prayer room and they could observ Kentamin in his prayer unnoticed. "What do you make of him, Father?" Merric asked Father Lionel, watching Kentamin grumbled away with a deepened frown.
Father Lionel looked at Merric, then lowered his gaze.
"The priest in training?" he frowned. "I've.. seen worse."
"How worse?" he asked. "The boy is eager. But he needs more than training to allot him into the right shape. He doesn't understand the gravity of what it means to become a Confessor, least of all a Templar. I'm recommending demotion. He has a lot to learn. I am not sure if he is willing."
Father Lionel studied Merric's face with a nod.
"Yes, but you must realize- because of the war, our numbers are waning. Even to lose one of us, even one so wreckless, is a blow to the cause. It was said.." he then added, with some hesitation. "That the Grand Duke had backed up the child. Is this true?"
It would make sense, that, or someone was feeding someone in the church coin- which was a nasty, vile thing to consider.
"But you think he is a waste?I would not speak against your judgement, and in fact, I'd support you if you believe he is more of a hindrance. He is only in training- though they say he had a lot of potential. They never saw someone able to pull off the ... blessings a confessors needs as he had. IN fac,t it was strange that when he came ot us-he hadn't realized he had learned one of the abilities without our help. Do you not think that is dangerous? To just leave someone like that untrained? The church could offer more... direct means to rein him in." The man frowned. "he is but a child, though- rather young for this. Perhaps, whoever signed him on, should not have been so hasty."
Mercuxio shot him a glare and widened his eyes. "That is impossible," he said in a low voice. "You know that! And if it is true, then what you speak of is treason of the highest regard. A Confessor is not born with those blessings. They are given to him if Ansgar favors him. But he... Kentamin is unfit. He is not ready to be a Templar. Not yet. Give him five years, and maybe. Maybe then.
"You know the rules. Every Confessor knows them. They burn them into your mind to make sure you never forget. It is more than dangerous. Once you become apart of the Order, you can't ever leave it, you know that. But you also know that of course he cannot simply be cast out. He would be castigated first, then stripped of those blessings. Ansgar giveth, and he taketh away."
Father Lionel sighed.
"Then it just seems as if you are stuck with him, Father Merric. Have patience- it is what Ansgar would want."
"It is what Ansgar would want..."
The words were mulled over and over again in his mind. His jaw was hardened and his eyes burned like glacial ice. "How can we possibly know what Ansgar wants," he murmured.
Father Lionel gave Merric a trying smile.
"Patience is something often preached, Father Merric. Take each day with stride. Although... I know you've come here... to discuss other things besides your young trainee. Pray, tell me- what is it you two have found in the ruins?"
Merric didn't comment on the matter of Kentamin, his mind was already made up on it regardless, so he afforded Father Lionel only a small glance. "The chapel in Uthlyn was deliberately destroyed. We don't know who, but there were priests there that were doing something unknown to even the Order. We uncovered a body, a poor attempt to hide his identity. It is unlikely the fire was caused by the priests attempting to cover their tracks. It is a high chance that they were dissidents of some kind. Curious that Lord Arrant should mention visiting the very same church and being so candid about it being burnt to the ground."
"Yes, I was.. hoping the matter would not reach noble ears. You know how they can be," Father Lionel added dryly. "But was there... other news from your find?" He asked curiously, trying to hastily change the subject from Lord Arrant back to the matter at hand.
"Was it obvious what the church was doing?"
Mercuxio's eyes remained ice cold, even letting the topic of Leif Arrant wash over him. "Not at first glance," he answered simply. "It took a little investigating. I believe, the other evidence collected is being catalogued this minute. We still have to do a proper inspection of the body, as rotted out as it is."
"Yes," Father Lionel said, staring off thoughtfully as he mused over what Father Merric said. "So I take it you won't be here all that long. Unless.. certain questions arrive?"
"As long as necessary," Mercuxio remarked. His eyes softened a little then he turned toward Lionel and nodded to outside. "How long ago did Lord Arrant arrive? What is he doing here?"
Father Lionel blinked.
"He just arrived barely half an hour before you two did. Why?"
"What would a noble of means be doing out here in a chapel in the middle of nowhere. We are at least a hundred miles out from any main road. Doesn't it strike you as odd that he arrived just moments before we did. Not to mention, saying he was present at the church before it burned down?" Merric said, masking is irritation.
Father Lionel blinked before he started laughing.
"Lord Leif Arrant is a strange one. Said he got even worse when his sister died, poor thing. And she was a mage." He marked himself before setting his gaze back to Merric. "But I don't question any of the sheep in the flock, Father Merric- and neither should you. We all find our way to Ansgar in one way or another."
"Right," Merric replied dryly. "I'll try to keep that in mind." He forced a cough to interrupt their exchange, no longer feeling as if Father Lionel really knew what was going on here. He was just a Patron after all and in care of the Sanctum beneath the Abbey. The cough still was quiet and he moved from behind the other priest and back into the confession box. The priest followed him and they both signed across their hearts before making exit of the confessional.
"Please, Father Lionel," Mercuxio asked. "Tell me where I can find Lord Arrant again. I believe I'd like to pay my respects to his sister. We were childhood friends once upon a time."
"Ah, he might be in the back room. He wanted to stay here to gain some guidance. He said he had some questions about the church."
"Thank you Father," Merric bowed his head and took leave of Father Lionel's repressive presence. The man was a dolt. And that was why he would never rise above his current. He walked quietly to the back rooms, the father's quarters and his lay priests and saw Leif there, brooding as ever. "You never told me about your sister," he said in a soft voice. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Leif had been pretending to pray, so when Merric entered, his expression only deepened in it's irritation. And at his words, he snorted.
"My parents didn't want it to become a big thing. Not that it mattered. Word gets out easily when one is found out to be a mage."
He was surprised Merric even pretended not to know- unless he had been living under a rock these past few years. Maybe that was the real problem with the church.
"I know you never approved of me. Particularly in regards to her. I have sisters. I would understand that sentiment," he continued, moving to stand just beside him and kneeling on his own. "But I just want you to know that it did matter. To me at least. She was a good person, regardless of what she was branded. Attalia always deserved better. Better than her fate, better than death, better than me."
Leif's lips curled at the other man's words.
"Yes, too bad not everyone felt that way," he told the man curtly. "Now if you'll forgive me, I'm trying to pray, Father Merric." And the title came out bitterly.
"I apologize for my intrusion. Please, allow me to pray with you." And for you, though he was thinking it, he did not say it and he knelt beside Leif and dropped his chin to his chest.
Lief's brows dipped sharply.
"I prefer to pray alone."
"Then pretend I'm not even here," he said with a curt nod and held his hands before his own chest.
The anger associated with that remark- and just Father Merric's presence; was enough to grate on his nerves, and after enduring a few long minutes of this- Leif suddenly stood up. And he glared at the back of Merric's head before turning heal and heading towards the door.
At notion, Merric looked up to see Leif departed and promptly followed him out the door. As it closed quietly behind them, Merric looked more sternly at the young lord. "Leif," he said in a stronger voice. "What is your problem with me?"
Leif didn't even bother to look back at the priest as he kept a quick pace in his strides. It should be obvious- but to Leif, everyone was an idiot.