The church wasn’t huge, but it sprawled out. It was freshly painted in yellow and white, and was too new to be weathered against the relentless sun. There was a bubbling fountain out front in the courtyard, and from what Gray knew of missionaries, there was probably a robust garden out back despite being in the desert, full of native fruits and vegetables and likely taxing on the town’s water supply. A priest was out front, sweeping up the dirt and mud from the monsoon the night before, and Gray steeled himself as the man looked up and caught sight of him.
“Alfie,” the priest said warmly, a broad smile spreading across his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t realize you would be bringing a visitor today!”
“Ah, this here is Gray, and he’s one of them Wanderers,” Alfie said, and the priest’s eyes went cold as his gaze swept over Gray’s ragged appearance. His stare landed on the fraying oaths embroidered into what little shoulder could be seen, and Gray knew it would be a sign of weakness to adjust his cloak to better hide it. “I asked him to come talk t’ye on account of the little’uns.”
“Is that so?” the priest asked coolly. “Well, it’s always a joy to meet a Sojourner on his pilgrimage. They’re such knowledgeable and wise people.”
Alfie, bless him, caught the undercurrent of disrespect in his tone, and looked at Gray with concern.
“And such a young one, at that,” the priest said and propped up his broom. “You must have just started your journey.”
“Oh, no,” Gray said with a slight smile. “I have been on my journey for ten years. I’m twenty-five.”
“Ah, you started so young! You must have been quite accomplished!” the priest said and tilted his head. “Which Library do you hail from, young one?”
The condescension was clear, and Gray gave him a winning smile that did, in fact, reach his eyes.
“Verdova, Father,” he replied politely and the priest’s eyes went that much more cold.
“The Mother Library? Well, your education must have been extensive.”
“It was bearable, thank you,” Gray replied politely. “Will you be inviting us in?”
“Of course,” the priest said and stepped aside with a sweeping gesture towards the massive double doors. “Please, make yourself at home, Sojourner.”
Gray bit back the urge to say ‘I will not’ and just gave him a grateful smile as he slid back into the chapel. Inside was the typical set up of benches and an altar at the front, with a giant statue of the Goddess of Light herself, arms outstretched, with draping robes and a halo surrounding her entire back. The opulence seemed entirely out of place in this tiny, poor town, and Gray thought to point out the issue here, but he held his tongue. Stained glass, very expensive, when most of the houses in this town had shutters. He was more than a little disgusted by it all, but he knew how to behave.
“It’s near prayer time, so I must beg you to make it short,” the priest said and Gray smiled thinly and inclined his head.
“Of course, Father. If I may ask your name…?”
“Ilias,” the priest said and took a seat at the front, patting the seat next to him. A common tactic, to make them seem as equals in the eyes of his Goddess. As if. Ilias probably thought he was nothing more than a heathen.
“Thank you, Father Ilias,” Gray said and took a seat next to him. A long, respectful silence ensued, in deference to the Goddess, and then Gray opened his mouth to speak.
“I’ve been asked to see about children,” Gray said and the priest sighed, long and loud.
“I thought so,” he said with the voice of a kindly old man that was dealing with younger people than him that didn’t know any better. “It’s quite unfortunate. They all agreed to the education of the young ones, but now they have an issue with how we do it.”
“And how exactly is it that you’re doing it?” Gray asked, though he already knew the answer.
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“Well, to educate the child, you have to educate the whole child, not simply teach them letters and numbers,” Ilias said, as if Gray was a child himself that needed to be educated. “It’s early mornings and cleaning and working, not something as simple as teaching them to read and write, though I assume that may go against your own teachings.”
Gray didn’t particularly care for how he said ‘your own teachings’, knowing full well if he bucked up on that subject, he would immediately be reminded of how Librarians raise their own.
“While I understand the importance of a boarding education,” Gray said with as much warmth as he could project into his voice, “that doesn’t work in every scenario.”
“Did it not work in yours?” Ilias asked and Gray tilted his head.
“Are you teaching the children according to the rules of the Library, or to the customs of the Goddess?” he asked directly.
“Is it not the same either way?” Ilias asked, and Gray turned to him in earnest.
“No, it is not,” he said severely. “These parents weren’t made aware of your customs in education. They did not agree to have their children taken away. Surely you understand that.”
“Well, it is the fault of their education that they don’t know the customs of the Followers of the Goddess,” Ilias said, and Gray resisted the urge to slowly inhale.
“And it is the fault of yourself that you did not educate them thoroughly on the Goddess’s customs before you took the children,” he said and glanced over Ilias’s head where Alfie was waiting anxiously at the back of the hall. “Ignorance must be corrected properly, not taken advantage of.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Ilias’s face darkened drastically and Gray subconsciously leaned back.
“You think I was taking advantage of their situation?” he asked, firmly cementing him as the head priest here, and Gray decided to go all in instead of double down.
“Yes, I do,” Gray said pointedly. “And I believe you know that, even if you think you’re in the right here.”
“Would you like to put your actions behind your words?” Ilias asked, and ah. This was why Gray despised working with the Church of Light.
If they got even the slightest chance to let out their frustrations on a Sojourner, they would.
But, this would solve the situation easily. Ilias may know of their teachings, but it was unlikely he knew all fifty orders and their duties and specializations and how to recognize each of them on sight.
“I would, if you’d allow me,” Gray confirmed and tilted his head. “But, if I win, you allow these children to return to their parents unharmed.”
“And if you lose, you swear to never again meddle in the matters of the Church of Light.”
“Fine,” Gray confirmed, because he would like nothing more. “We should seal it with a divine covenant.”
“Of course,” Ilias agreed, and wow. That was easy. Gray should accuse priests of being manipulative more often.
“Noon tomorrow, then?” Gray asked pleasantly and stood up.
“Noon would be just fine,” Ilias said and stood up, giving Gray a low bow, and Gray returned the favor with his own sweep.
“I’ll go ahead and inform Alfie, then,” Gray said and swept towards the door. Ah, that was a weight off his back. They would more than likely have to pack up and leave after losing out on their early childhood indoctrination. That was primarily how the Church of Light operated in these poor communities, after all, and they had already gone and destroyed their own reputation.
It was a petty thought, but he felt better at the idea of closing down a Church of Light engaging in such shady practices. He’d had far too many negative interactions with them to not be happy about it, really. You couldn’t blame him.
His eyes trailed to the stained glass portraits and he internally winced.
What a colossal waste of money.
It was Ilias’s own hubris, anyways. It couldn’t be blamed on him.
“Did’ya figure it out?” Alfie asked as Gray placed a palm on the door.
“Yes,” he replied and glanced at Alfie. “He challenged me to a duel. You should have your children back sometime after noon tomorrow.”
“Oh, is that all--- Beggin’ yer pardon, what d’ye mean by duel?”
“Oh, we’re just going to see whose divine power is more effective in live combat,” Gray answered happily as he pushed open the door, a pep already appearing in his step.
“... Priests fight?!”
“All the time, actually,” Gray replied, feeling utterly over the moon. “Especially with Librarians. They will take any opportunity to try and turn us to pulp.”
“Mister Wanderer?!”
Ah, what a good, good day.