"The fascination you people have with scarification rituals really perplexes me," it said, rubbing at the fresh mark carved into its forearm.
"If you keep going at this pace, I'll be covered from ears to feet with chicken scratchings by the time we reach my Guild's Hall. It's a clear geometrical progression by this point!" the creature continued, before Felix yanked at its tangled chains and hauled it back hard, its spine smacking against the back of the chair we had provided moments earlier so it might sit before us.
Felix closed in behind it, leaned close to its long, pointed ear, and spoke low.
"That will be the first and last time I hear you refer to the Sacred Words as that."
He tightened the chains just enough to leave no doubt as to his resolve.
Thaddeus swallowed hard, forcing down the fear Felix had just planted in him, and replied quietly,
"Won't happen again, sir. The religious sanctity of your culture is still… fuzzy for me. But I'll keep learning. Culture hasn't yet been one of my specialties — survival, however, is of the utmost importance, so I'll reconsider my more leisurely studies for now."
"Good," Felix growled, and I moved to end the exchange before his words provoked my friend further.
"Besides," I added, "it was a small sacrifice to make for joining us inside, wouldn't you agree, Thaddeus?"
I saw both of them turn to face me, perplexed — and in their expressions, I could already see the difference wrought by hearing the creature named.
"We are using its name now, Praefectus?" Felix asked. "What's next — taking it back home to join my household's guard dogs?"
I cut him off.
"Watch your tone, brother. If it is clean enough to enter these grounds, let us afford it the courtesy of being called by its chosen name."
I went a step further.
"If the Gods did not reject it, by what right would we dare to?".
Felix let the thought sink with his tension, his hand letting go of the chains and leaving their metal rings chime, tangling to fill the silence that echoed between the three of us.
"Well… once again you prove difficult to argue with, Praefectus — and it would be dishonest of me to press the matter further when I already agree with you," Felix said, a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth while his eyes lingered on something unseen, unwilling to meet mine.
"And I, for once, will wholeheartedly agree with your Gods' opinion of my person," Thaddeus added cheerfully. "I'm very glad you've chosen not to oppose them in their assessment."
He turned forward just in time to witness Sister Adrian's fuming censor as she emerged from the inner sanctum of the church, already set upon beginning her Liturgy.
The broken door had been propped back into place, shielding the entrance from the intrusion of the rain, and only the droplets that fell intermittently from the stone dome above kept us mindful of the outside world.
The sweet scent of smoke pricked at my senses before the first words left Sister Adrian's lips and called us to reverence.
"Exaudiesne, cum anima mea intra se coalescit?
Dum bello pereo, et a te derigor.
Sistine tenebras in me, et luce tua me perfunde?"
("Will You hear, as my soul within takes shape?
While I perish in war, and am drawn away from You.
Will You halt the darkness in me, and drench me in Your light?")
Her voice carried the words.
"Ave Sorores Noctis et Sol," Felix and I replied.
"Exaudiesne, cum in peccatum cado?
Infirmus, extra Amplexum tuum, ut vincam.
Num me in ulnis tuis celabis, et contemplatione me donabis?"
("Will You hear, when I fall into sin?
Weak, beyond Your Embrace, yet striving to conquer.
Will You hide me in your arms, and gift me with contemplation?")
She spoke again.
"Ave Sorores Noctis et Sol," Felix and I replied.
"Exaudi me, O Pater, Dator Vitae, O Sol.
Purga peccata mea ab hac carne, luminoso tactu tuo.
Exaudi me, O Sorores, O Datrices Memoriae, Oculi Noctis.
Da mihi robur per tenebras luctandi."
("Hear me, O Father, Giver of Life, O Sun.
Cleanse my sins from this flesh with Your luminous touch.
Hear me, O Sisters, Givers of Remembrance, o Eyes of Night.
Grant me the strength to struggle through the dark.")
Her plea filled the stone walls that contained us, and the air warmed as it bore her words.
"Ave Sorores Noctis et Sol," Felix and I responded for the third and final time.
Without much thought, I had placed the three fingers of my right hand upon my heart, pressing them deep through the cloth of my shirt, rough against my warming skin — a small attempt to let her words steep more deeply within me.
Even if I had helped her so that she might bless us for her own sake, I now realized that I had done so for mine as well.
And still my soul clawed at my chest, undeserving of relief. The time was yet far too distant for me to atone.
"Red suits you," came the whispering voice of the Keeper, and for a moment I was dreadfully unsure whether I had truly heard her — or whether my own mind had merely echoed what my state had already earned.
Thaddeus's dangling feet and the rhythmic chime of their chains pulled me away from my thoughts and returned my focus to him.
Its angular head traced the walls slowly, pausing from time to time to examine the remnants of art — shattered depictions of Thrones, fragments of their curved golden forms still watching with a thousand eyes over the First Pilgrim… or what was meant to be the First Pilgrim of Tenebrae, now reduced to a human-shaped void torn through the stone.
He grew visibly uncomfortable as the air thickened, tugging at the collar of his shirt, yet never once peeling his eyes away from his examination of the ancient stones that surrounded him.
Sister Adrian had already moved on, producing her small copy of The Codex Tenebris from the satchel she had left within the inner sanctum, and began reciting the passages appointed for the hour.
Meanwhile, Thaddeus turned half his small frame toward Felix and me, careful not to turn his back on her.
"What could have driven the residents of this village to remove such marvelous frescoes from the walls?" it asked, its gaze still wandering. "They must have been the work of a true artisan, from what I can gather. What a shame — truly."
It continued to look about, its attention lingering on the depiction of the Lifebringer painted across the church's domed ceiling.
"At least they couldn't reach that," it mused, almost to itself, its head still craned back and its hand pointing upwards. "The scale alone… how would they even begin?"
They defiled and destroyed them to mock us," Felix replied quietly, his teeth clenched.
"And it is not appropriate to point like that," I added, watching as it hastily drew its chained hands back to its lap. The sound made Sister Adrian pause for a brief moment — just long enough for it to jolt forward again and sit perfectly still.
"They were very deliberate in their destruction, to remove so many pieces with such accuracy, in my opinion," Thaddeus added quietly, still without turning to face us. "In my humble opinion, it looks more like an act of preservation rather than an act of defiance."
His words stirred both of us to reexamine the battered walls, and his assessment felt… right. There were no depictions smashed beyond recognition, none left shattered and abandoned. They had been removed with care.
Most of the debris I had helped Sister Adrian clear away earlier was plaster and faded pigment — fractured backgrounds, broken color — but not a single fragment of a meaningful Icon lay crumbled upon the stone floor.
"They tried to salvage what they could before leaving — what they might have held dear," I muttered, more to reflect on how the scene might have unfolded now, seen under a new light.
Its pointed ears twitched suddenly, reacting to some sound unheard by the rest of us. It lifted its head again, now unburdened by whatever fear Sister Adrian's presence had held it in, jerking left and right as the grey ears atop its skull moved with a life of their own.
"What's wrong?" I asked him, drawing both Felix's and Sister Adrian's attention, bringing her sermon to an abrupt, undeserved end.
"Ma'am, your performance must have been truly brilliant," Thaddeus said, his brow creased, ears drawn taut as they swept the space around us. "Because I believe we've attracted some company."
"That's impossible!" Felix reacted, his face dripping with scorn. "There is not a chance in Oblivion that anyone — or anything, for that matter — could have heard us under this rain, not to mention through this thick stone!" he continued, and gently knocked the warming stones with his knuckle.
Thaddeus's expression turned defeated before he exhaled and replied, "It was more of an exaggeration for some levity, sir, but my ears have yet to disappoint me, and I wouldn't dare challenge their efficiency right now. The matter of fact is that this village sounds less abandoned with each passing moment."
"How many?" I asked sharply, standing as my eyes ran to the propped-up door at the entrance of the church.
"For voices, I'm certain of three different ones. For feet, I cannot be certain — the mud does not help distinguish bipeds from the rest," Thaddeus answered. He too turned, his knees on the stool, his chained hand gripping the back of the chair.
"Sister, relieve the life from the candle immediately, and Felix—"
But he was quick to continue for me.
"I'll try to get a look from the windows and secure the entrance, sir," he said, moving at once and stopping just before one of the broken vitros that covered the narrow slits in the stone.
"Can you make out what they are saying?" I asked Thaddeus, hearing his chains tingle as he strained to rise atop his seat.
"Barely, sir, but I think one of them is barking out places — house names, locations. I suspect they may have returned to take what they left behind," he said.
"Have they mentioned our position?" I asked.
"Not yet — and I theorize not for a while. The loud one has stopped, and most movement sounds have scattered now."
"Good," I replied.
"Legatus?" I commanded.
"Reporting two males moving toward our horses and cart, and two others moving to the houses on the right of the central gate, Praefectus," Felix reported.
"What about their leader? Could you see anyone standing back or taking cover from the rain?" I asked him.
A moment's silence as he scanned. The rain hissing against the stone.
"There is one of them watching over the rest, yes, Praefectus," he answered, and turned to face us.
Sister Adrian stood at our side now, having finished returning the church to the darkness in which we had found it — the twin glass circles of the Lifegiver's face watching us from the dome above.
"How long can you hold the Sisters' Embrace, brother?" I asked Felix, my voice low, my gaze fixed deep in his.
"I'm blessed to endure thirty beats, Praefectus. But the gift you handed me during our spar could have brought me down to twenty… I have not yet had the chance to make it my own," Felix replied, his eyes drifting for a moment.
"As is to be expected, brother. I too have not been blessed by the remembrance of Lapurum's incident. It would be an opportunity for both of us," I told him, in an honest effort to ease the unspoken regret we shared for failing to remain as sharp as we should have been. I hoped it would turn out to be only a lesson in the matter.
I then turned my attention to Sister Adrian, my eyes settling on the dark blue contents of the vial hanging from her prayer belt.
"How much are you allowed, Sister?" I asked, catching her by surprise.
"I'm meant to consume only a fourth for a single communion, sir," she replied, her voice colored by a distinct mix of anxiety and regret.
"If need be, keep it to an eighth," I told her, then lowered my gaze to Thaddeus.
"You stay here, and don't even think of stepping outside Sister Adrian's sight. She is more than capable of protecting you, should our visitors decide to take even more from this place," I said firmly.
"Returning outside was at the very bottom of my list of tasks for the day, sir," he replied. "I'll gladly remain with the delightful company of Lady Adrian here — inside, and, more importantly, dry."
He turned and settled back onto his seat, a toothy smile forming on his face, only to falter against Sister Adrian's grim expression.
"Should I move on and dispatch the enemies that are closer to us now, Praefectus?" Felix asked.
"Did they look like soldiers, Legatus?" I asked in return.
"Not by their attire, sir, no. But neither are we," he said.
"Fair point, brother. Do they carry swords and shields, then? Are they armed?" I asked again.
"I glimpsed metal — hatchets, maybe — and a couple of hoes and pitchforks still lying around," he replied.
"In that case, let us be sensible and treat them as the civilians they most likely are. I'll move to get hold of their leader and try to speak with him. If things turn ugly, I want you to move in and incapacitate the men outside — but keep restraint, brother. There is a good chance they pose no threat to us."
"I'll come with you, Praefectus. There is no need to hide to catch them unprepared," he argued.
"Follow my lead, then, brother — and let us pray we won't have to find out if you are that fast," I said, moving a few steps toward the entrance before turning back to Sister Adrian.
"It would be best if you took Thaddeus and moved to the inner sanctum, in case any of our visitors wish to see whether we are alone. Hide there until you must," I told her.
With a nod, she moved closer to Thaddeus and grasped the chains that bound his hands.
"Come on — we don't have time to waste," she commanded, pulling him from his seat by the metal links.
"Right behind you, ma'am," Thaddeus replied, hurrying to match her pace rather than be dragged across the wet stone floor.
"Who are we, Legatus?" I asked Felix as we moved to remove the perturbed wooden door once again.
"Cinnabar dust traders from Lappurum, Praefectus," he replied.
"And why are we here?" I continued.
"To take shelter as we travel to Arventis to partake in trade," he answered.
"Let's move then, Legatus," I said, turning to face him and nodding my approval before pulling the wine red fabric of my cloak over my head as we stepped back into the rain.