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The Immortal
80: Acolyte

80: Acolyte

“I was… I was just fed up, sir” Amina starts carefully “I saw no opportunity, only a continuation of being used and loathed, like I was a filthy Silvester” Whoa, that shocked me. It’s the first time I heard of the Silvestri since my re-emergence. And for such unbridled disdain in her voice, guess their standing in society has only worsened over the years.

“Before I knew anything, I was in the orphanage attached to the temple in Roxas. The orphanage only takes in a few children each year, mostly girls, and mostly before they can talk.”

I think back to my old world, where I think I have seen a couple of Christian orphanages… in movies? “Did they teach you a lot about God then?

She shakes her head. “To learn about God and God’s language is a matter for priests. We were taught to clean, cook, read and write, so that we may perform such tasks for the priests.”

“What did you need to read and write for?”

“There’s a lot of paperwork and letters to being a priest, which are left to us to draft up and send to the head temple in Dauvern. Mostly reports about donations, births, gifted children and so on”

I nod my head. I don’t really get it though.

“Anyway, once you come of age, more… Uncomfortable things start to happen. Acolytes can’t get married, and that is not for their own benefit, but rather for that of the priests.”

“Does that mean you…?” I try to form it in a tactful way, but fail to find the words.

She just puts on a pathetic smile.

“I had once planned to serve the temple for all they had given me, but I had an older sister in the orphanage. Not by blood, but by her sheltering me from blame and caring for me… But a few years after she came of age, she first turned really sad, and complained to me about the smelly priests. But then she suddenly disappeared, and when I asked why nobody would answer me. I was so afraid. I tried to flee, but ended up almost starving to death, before I was brought back by a passerby and severely punished for my actions…” She let out a waterfall of details, as if to obscure the previous admission by an avalanche of words. I have a hard time keeping up.

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“But when I saw sir emerge from the seal. I first thought my life was about to end, but then a thought sprung up in me. Those priests. Who did this and that… And stole my beloved sister from me… I wanted to see them die first. And by the time I realized you were harmless, I saw another opportunity, one to escape that horrible temple forever.” Well, that did happen, though I was kind of worried for her mental state and she happened to be a bit of a nuisance. I am happy now that I didn’t though.

She starts to look very sad and lonely. I don’t know what to do. I want to comfort her and tell her it’s alright now, but I don’t know that and I can’t find any comforting words to say. I end up just scooching closer to her, watching over the fire that now has been reduced to some smoldering ashes. I place a hand on her shoulder. This should be fine.

She suddenly hugs me. I think she is crying. It must be hard recalling stuff like that. After some time of floaty hands, I gather the courage to hug her back and soon she seems to fall asleep in my arms. I carry her to bed and go outside to do some dungeon diving before tomorrow.

As dawn comes and I return, I see Amina has already gotten up.

“Thank you, sir, I feel so much better today” She says.

“Don’t sweat it. And you can stop calling me sir, call me Yos…” I was about to suggest she also could call me brother, but I don’t know if that would be appropriate.

“I’ll try, sir” I sigh and chuckle a little.

“Anyway, I am heading to the city” I inform her, and she merrily sends me on the way. I arrive at the city pretty early in comparison to how most folk get up, but I try to get whoever the receptionist is that day alone, so that I may get an explanation of the requests without bothering the others.

As I walk up to the counter through the empty guild hall, I am not the one to say the first word though.

“Hey sonny, wait a minute” The receptionist today is a middle-aged lady, who always addresses me in some way, that indicates I am a youngster. I sometimes feel the desire to tell her how old I am.

“What is happening?”

“It’s about your promotion, boy. It was decided late yesterday, that since you operate alone, the branch leader will go with you on a request. He’ll be here in an hour or so, if you can wait that long.”

I just nod. Branch leader, huh? I guess that would be the 40-something man I have seen around, but never behind the counter. He has one hell of magnificent moustache though. Since he is rarely around, I always feel a little lucky to see it.