“It must be important for you to interrupt my evening prayers,” Mother Priest said. A familiar pale, face, with deep eyes, which held both compassion and annoyance in equal measure. She was an older woman, as one might have expected.
“I have come to inform you of many things,” Vonda replied. “Those which I had not spoken previously, and those which had only come to my eyes recently.”
“Is this about the demons you have brought to the order?” Mother Priest asked.
Vonda threw a glance to Hope Robert, wondering how long he would remain here.
“You may speak of your matters first, Sister Vonda,” the First Hope stated.
“I would dare not to speak before the First Hope,” the young Sister replied.
“There is no need to worry about this old man.”
“To refuse to hear of your wisdom before I speak with my youthful foolishness, it would only be a disservice.”
Mother Priest watched as Vonda kept deflecting Hope Robert, whose annoyance was growing. ‘What could be so important you would be so impudent to Hope Robert?’ “Hope Robert, let us speak privately first, while Sister Vonda prepares herself to speak with me.”
Hope Robert frowned, but he followed Mother Priest into her quarters, speaking with her for a few minutes, before stepping out, politely greeting Vonda on the way out with a smile, though continued back to the courtyard.
‘I hope you stay out of trouble, Adam…’ Vonda sighed, before stepping into the Mother Priest’s quarters, noting the four women in prayer in each corner, each wearing something which covered them head to toe, including thin piece of cloth which hid their faces.
Mother Priest’s quarters was as bare as it was opulent, as warm as it was cool, moderate in almost every way one could try to measure. A small statue of Mother Soza, made up of Red Oak, sat within an alcove made of earth. It was not any kind of special earth, just earth which had been found from nowhere in particular, and then formed into a place to provide shade for the statue, which was worth its weight in silver.
“Sit,” the Mother Priest called, waving a hand as a stool floated towards Vonda, while Mother Priest sat on the area which was slightly raised in front of Mother Soza’s statue, though she was with the statue to her side, so she did not sit with her back to the statue.
Vonda sat opposite the Mother Priest, still within her armour, her magical mace still at her side. She had no thoughts of harming the Mother Priest, especially not when she sat within the room which held the holy mace she had returned the other year with the assistance of Fate’s Golden.
“I have much to speak of, Mother Priest…” Vonda said, wondering where she should begin. “I should first inform you that the Great Mother has blessed me with a grace which I do not deserve.”
“…” the Mother Priest waited, slowly narrowing her eyes.
“May I?” Vonda asked, and once Mother Priest bowed her head, Vonda began to pray, calling for Mother Soza’s grace, before she reached out to touch the most powerful Priest of Life with her bare hand, holding it in the way of the Priests of Life.
Mother Priest felt the warm magic of the Great Mother fill her, feeling the protective magic encompass her like a blanket. It was a sensation she had felt before, for it was the same sensation certain priests had brought to her when they claimed the title. Her eyes remained focused on Vonda, who had refused the title of Mother when last she had come, stating she had more business to deal with, and yet, not even a year later, the young woman had returned with the ability to communicate with their Goddess with the same level of a High Priests, those who were only beneath her in the hierarchy.
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‘What?’
‘Adam, please don’t cause any trouble,’ Vonda thought as she cast a Fourth Gate spell upon the Mother Priest.
Robert returned back to the courtyard, not understanding the storm Vonda was about to create. His eyes fell across the group of teen Iyrmen who had returned, each having given up their weapons, but they stood near the demons in particular. He noted where the Seventh Hope was standing, as well as the Rays which followed the young Hope.
Robert approached Adam, who seemed to be quite relaxed within the temple, keeping an eye on the children. “Brother Adam, are you busy?”
“Not at all,” Adam replied, standing up, before Robert held up a hand, allowing him to remain seated.
Robert sat down opposite the young half elf, staring deep into his eyes. “There are many within your group who will know Mother Soza’s grace this night.”
“What fine grace it is,” Adam replied. “I am ever so thankful for the Mother’s grace, and I am trying to understand what an appropriate donation would be for her grace.”
“If you are having troubling thinking about an appropriate donation, I can offer my humble advice.”
“I would be most grateful.”
“You number more than fifty, and then there are your fine wolves. There is the matter of the Mother’s grace upon the battlefield.”
“Right, you did some to assist us, though one might say you assisted the Marquise’s group rather than ours.” Adam formed a small smirk on his face.
“There were many diamonds which had to be used to assist you.”
“Excuse me?”
“There were over ten diamonds which we had to expend to bring the Mother’s grace,” Robert said, his eyes glued to Adam’s still, the boy’s eyes filled with slight confusion.
“I’m sure the Marquise will donate appropriately to the temple for her Mother’s grace, and we will donate appropriately for the assistance you provided to our group, not the group which so openly wished to shirk the Mother’s grace, especially when it came to the matter of children.”
“Are you meaning to suggest the Marquise sent such noble knights to harm children?”
“I am meaning to suggest you know the truth of the matter, regardless of how inappropriate it might seem to suggest what the Marquise was doing was against her Mother’s grace.”
“When I saw the death, I only saw the glee from one side.”
“What did the Marshal expect? He started a fight and his opponents were Iyrmen. If I place my book atop a campfire and I awaken to ash, I would not blame another for the book turning to ash. He can only blame himself.”
“Perhaps he was coaxed into fighting?”
“Sir Ivy had come to meet with our group to take away a child under our protection,” Adam said, feeling the heat beginning to grow within him. “It was only under Sister Vonda’s urging that we showed them mercy, and then… then the Marshal came to hunt us with a larger group. We showed them mercy, and they came to hunt us. It was they who wanted death, and even if I worship Lord Sozain, I don’t want for death.”
“You worship Baktu, not Lord Sozain,” Robert replied. “The root of death is the same, but Iyrmen’s Lord knows little of Lord Sozain’s grace. Lord Sozain is a child of Mother Soza, but this Baktu? Whoever it may be, they did not inherit the Mother’s love of life.”
“There is no doubt within my heart that Lord Sozain is Baktu,” Adam said, reaching own to his amulet, feeling how cool it was to the touch. ‘He did personally tell me himself, so I should probably believe the God himself.’
“I see that you are too emotional to speak of the matter any longer,” Robert said. “You must wish to return to your companions.”
Adam huffed out, but kept his tongue at bay. He understand what the Father was doing. ‘What an asshole.’ Adam stood. “Thank you for the conversation, it was truly enlightening.”
“You are most welcome.”
‘What an absolute prick! He’s definitely the First Hope.’
Robert motioned to one of his Rays, glancing over to Hope Thomas, before he went to check on the children, making sure they were all safe. ‘The Iyr has certainly taken to the young man’s heart, though he is no Iyrman. What have they done to him?’
Adam huffed, dropping down beside Jurot and the others. “Can you believe it?”
“Adam,” Jaygak said. “Don’t forget.”
“Forget what?”
“You need them.”
“…” Adam let out another huff. ‘Right. I need them to help me out with the Marquise.’
“We will need an escort for when we return to the Iyr.”
“Why do we need an escort?”
“We don’t, the children do.”
Adam’s eyes met Jaygak’s for a moment before the half elf turned, looking to the children, who were sitting and eating with the other Hopes. ‘Right. I can be stupid if it gets me in trouble, but I can’t endanger them because some noble is being a prick to me.’
Jurot’s eyes fell to the newcomer who had approached them. It was a young man, with chestnut hair, bright blue eyes, and a handsome face. He was perhaps thirty years old, and was the youngest to carry the golden sun beneath his amulet.
“May I sit?” the Seventh Hope asked.
“You may, Hope Thomas,” Jurot replied.