How it all began
Jan 7, 2015 11:44:29 GMT
Post by Sharon on Jan 7, 2015 11:44:29 GMT
~Weeks ago in the city of Vandermere~
Brendan is knelt in prayer in the Cathedral to the Divinity, eyes closed, murmuring, 'Fathers past, hallowed every name. Mercy be on me, thy son, and teach me every day.'
Alexandria was a pale ghost in white. Her fair skin different from most. 'Different' had always described her. She was born with one foot in the spirit world and the other firmly planted in the Empire. She would pause, seeing him knelt at prayer. She took a deep breath to steady herself and knelt beside him with the whisper of the soft and rich woolen robes of an accolyte.
A polite smile to her, attention back to the saints. He rests his hand on his heart, finishing up and moving over to take a seat for the coming service. Seeing the space filling up quickly, and that she is in the middle of prayer, he saves her a spot
'Pray for us now and in the hour of our death, amen.' Her beautiful rosary was worn as part of her girdle belt. It was simple and plain and carved with articulate care, just as her 'walking stick' was, made by her father, an artificer. She was an only child. The glory of her parents who were held in esteem for breeding a Blessed One. She took a seat beside him and gave him a nod and gentle smile. 'Thank you,' She knew him to be a former Templar candidate, but at the same time, not. Truth to tell she knew precious little about him.
He didn't wear heavy armor, but is clad in markings of faith. He has heard of her reputation, chosen light of the Empire, but it hardly makes it easy to start smalltalk. He sits quietly through the sermon, an attentive man, but glancing towards her once or twice, certainly aware now she is a woman as well as a living miracle. But made of flesh and blood just as he was. While he was dark, she was luminus as the moon turned them different colors as it's light shined through the stained glass windows. As the Prelate went through the sermon, a story of a young man that was born in one of their poorer territories with nothing but a future of crime ahead of him, he rose from nothing to a merchant of fruit through the aid of the Empire. Alexandria smiled throughout it and chuckled with the faithfull as he made a quip of 'baring good fruit'. The Prelate was a charismatic man and had a healthy sense of humor that endeared the flock to him. And Alexandria loved him. He was her surrogate father. At last it was time for the sacrament and Alexandria was called first to receive the 'Body of The First', and then she was to sing.
He shifts his large knees out of the way so she can pass, mindful of the white flow of her skirts. He looks on solemnly as he looks on to the service, an endless patience within him well suited to the sombre halls.
Backed up by the boys choir her sweet voice was lost amid the others but she did not care. She was eager for it to be over. And when she let the last note of the well known hymn fade, returned to her seat. After the final slip of the loaf and swallow of wine the prelate spoke.
'Sons and daughters, I have an announcement.'
Brendan could see she looked extreemly discomforted.
'The Blessed has had a dream.' The Prelate went on. 'I believe it to be a prophetic one. In it was St. Maximilllion and he stood amid ruins of a great city. He said but this; that Evil had come to Tel Vinrae.'
He looks thoughtful... frowning, well aware of the risks of evil at the heart of the seat of the world's peace
The crowd broke out in murmers and most made a sign against evil. Evil being sometimes anything contrary to the unity of the Empire. But most understood ~true Evil~. The Prelate continued. 'The Blessed must go to the Prelate of St. Maximillion's and deliver her warning and her desire to aid him in person. She will be leaving us, but a new Blessed will take her place here. Someday she can return to us when the Evil has passed, if the Saints see fit. However the road to Tel Vinrae is a long and treacherous. She will need a Champion. A protecter, of both her body and spirit. It will mean taking up his roots and moving to that city till the Evil has been struck down. It may mean laying down his life for the sake of The Blessed.' He looked with dark and serious eyes over the flock. 'Who will rise up to be this Champion?'
He is thoughtful for just a moment, then rises up, saying without missing a breath I would, sir. Brendan Dean. His name is known more by his parents, academics in the Imperial Academy, history and geology, their youngest son
She looked to Brendan with a bit of surprise - And was that hope that saw flash in her sapphire eyes? - but then another rose up, this time a well known Templar, many years Brendan's senior. And then a man with a staff and the tatoos of a monk, and finally a well dressed man with a long sword, who looked down his nose at the upstart, Brendan, as if he was daring him to throw down among his betters.
He stands firm, sincere, looking to the priest for guidance. He won't boast or bluster, but he trusts in the authority of the man close to the purest who should be right for the task. His eyes do, burn with an intensity of desire to do this, however, unmistakable. A certain zeal?
The Prelate looked over the candidates, reading the honesty of Brendan who was closest to him and then to each of the others in turn. 'Will you step forward to the dias, please?'
He steps forward, not meeting the surprised gaze of his family as he approaches to stand at attention. They looked at him, mystified, as if he'd just grown a second head. What was he doing? He had a future here. A wife already picked out for him! His father's mouth gaped and closed like a fish gasping for water and his mother looked like she was about to have the vapors! All of the candidates were gathered. The Templar was a bit bowed with age. Perhaps he had sought an honorable death by volenteering. The monk was younger then Brendan and flexed his staff and had a difficulty just remaining still, strange for one who meditated. He looked straight ahead and never at Alexandria. The one next Branden was brazen about it, not QUITE leering at her, and he also sported a signet ring. It was obvious that he had been preening for a chance to court her. He glared at Brendan and spoke out of the corner of his mouth to him. 'She's out of your league, pigeon. I'm the falcon who will fly her.'
He looks to the priest, and to the woman he hopes may be his duty... not being baited. Either he or the nobleman wins, either way well beyond any chance of comeuppance at his cold shoulder.
The Prelate smiled and jestured to Alexandria. He was affording her a great honor by allowing her to choose who would accompany her. Women in the Empire generally did not enjoy the freedoms of a Tel Vinrae native, for instance.
'The choice falls to you, Blessed One. How will you do so? Trial by combat? It is a long way to Tel Vinrae.'
He looks on to Alexandria, lowering his eyes in respect. He's a solid sort of fellow, but not outstanding in any field, but he did stand first!
You honor me, Holy Father.' She spoke, and it seemed like she spoke to everyone. Each one, an individual, even as she focused her attention on him alone. The woman seemed reserved, but she shined like a polished gem when she wanted to. 'To give me the honor to choose.' Her gaze was cast over every member of the small cotery. She seemed to be looking into their very souls, as her hand smoothed over the ever present rosery and holy symbol. 'I would not deem to spoil the garden by pulling up the roots already planted.' She began by addressing the Templar. 'You, Sir D'lion, are much loved by every member of the congregation and we still remember your protection of us from the brigands in the spring of three years ago. That alone would ensure your place in paradise.' She went on to the young monk. 'Waters, you are a promising student according to your masters. Your steadiness will come with time and I would not deny you your opportunity of their continued council.' The boy's shoulders relaxed as Alexandria correctly identified his fear. He had only chose to join because he thought it was expected of him. Her eyes then fell on the nobleman. 'Sir Prelotis, I am honored by your...noble intentions to be my protector, but I would not dare to remove you from the city's advisory board. Which leads me to you, Brendan Dean.' She spoke his name as if it was all he was and all he could be. 'Tell me why you would wish to champion me?'
He is... not a man accustomed to public speaking, and here before his family especially. They have plans for him indeed, but... not plans he cares for. Yet how best to honor them, in publically defying their intentions? He suggests with... a reluctant tone to the honesty, choosing words for tact. 'Many reasons, milady. But foremost... I have been praying for direction for some time, and searching for a chance to make the world better, as best I can.' Most disappointing to his parents from their frowns. Yet... he is a man of thirty, odd perhaps that they are still in his affairs?
'I am not sure how I will be received in Tel Vinrae. I believe the Prelate of St. Maxamillions has known for some time that ill winds blow there, yet I am untested by the evil we will face.' She smiled faintly to Brendan and him alone. 'But I do know the direction of the City of Peace, and making the world better is one my goals as well. So, your Holiness?
'Yes?' The priest replied with a smile.
He looks on, permitting a small smile, reading from her words, he thinks... her answer, looking up to his holiness
'Pray for us, so that we may succeed together in our quest?'
And laying his hand on both their foreheads, he did. As the other candidates left the dias, one happy, another relieved, and one with a glare at the man finally chosen. He wasn't about to give up on his prize.
He can't help but smile... he's no knight, his emotions show, moving up by the altar to her side, his heart fast 'Thank you for the honor...'
The crowd slowly flowed out. There were many who lingered, some - namely Brendan's parents - for some explaination, but the Prelate ran interferance for him as long as he could, going on about how he was floating without a spiritual anchor...While finally left to themselves for a moment, she smiled up at him. 'You must be desperate to throw your lot in with me. I know almost every one of these people, but you are are a complete mystery to me.'
'Some desparation, some inspiration.' He is thoughtful, then deciding just to offer what he can. 'I had an injury for many years, it's healed, but... It's left me without many of the experiences of a younger man. I had been intended for the clergy, apprenticeships go to younger men, this is... truly an opportunity I hope to give myself fully towards. I am not right for the clergy.'
'Some are and some are just...not.' She shrugged, still smiling. 'It is wise you see that before you make a mistake and be miserable. I am glad you have more years, as I know I have been cosetted for all of mine.
'I will not equate my years to wisdom, milady. But I'll see your journey is complete.' He says with a bow to her. 'I'd like a night with my family, before we depart. To say farewell. But otherwise, I'm ready immediately, and have my own horse.'
'I am afraid I do not.' She grimaced. 'We can ride double. I already know we can travel most of the way with a caravan.'
'I can hike whenever we don't get a better offer.' He says with a smile. He's fit and strong, and quietly proud of that
'I'm afraid I am not that strong but I have a sturdy staff.' Her grin gradually faded. 'Brendan, may I call you that? I think there is something you need to know about me. I am a pacifist. I do not believe in violence against another, or only as a last resort. Creatures of evil must be destroyed, but I will not raise my staff except to save the life of another.'
'I admire and respect your stance. I will not need to be told to hold back twice, it's not my disposition.' He says with a nod to her, trying to reassure her he'll be worthy.
She reached up to place a hand on his shoulder. After all they might be riding double together so they might as well get the physical awkwardness out of the way. 'There is also one more thing. After telling the Prelate about my dream, I was examined, spiritually and...bodily...by the Nuns. When I get to Tel Vinrae I will most likey be examined again. I am celibate unless I choose to marry. Sometimes such things disturb the conduit of power we access, I think it has to do with feelings of guilt.'
'I'll be your brother at rest, your shield in strife, and your shadow when you need to shine.' He says with a smile to her, reaching a hand atop her forearm to the arm on his shoulder reassuringly.
'I know you will serve me well, but we are partners. If you think of something less dangerous in our journey do let my know!'
He nods to her, saying 'When we knelt at the altar, it felt... as weighty as a marriage to me. Even if there's to be an end in time. I take it as seriously.'
'As do I, my friend. Now let us prepare ourselves for this journey.'
Brendan is knelt in prayer in the Cathedral to the Divinity, eyes closed, murmuring, 'Fathers past, hallowed every name. Mercy be on me, thy son, and teach me every day.'
Alexandria was a pale ghost in white. Her fair skin different from most. 'Different' had always described her. She was born with one foot in the spirit world and the other firmly planted in the Empire. She would pause, seeing him knelt at prayer. She took a deep breath to steady herself and knelt beside him with the whisper of the soft and rich woolen robes of an accolyte.
A polite smile to her, attention back to the saints. He rests his hand on his heart, finishing up and moving over to take a seat for the coming service. Seeing the space filling up quickly, and that she is in the middle of prayer, he saves her a spot
'Pray for us now and in the hour of our death, amen.' Her beautiful rosary was worn as part of her girdle belt. It was simple and plain and carved with articulate care, just as her 'walking stick' was, made by her father, an artificer. She was an only child. The glory of her parents who were held in esteem for breeding a Blessed One. She took a seat beside him and gave him a nod and gentle smile. 'Thank you,' She knew him to be a former Templar candidate, but at the same time, not. Truth to tell she knew precious little about him.
He didn't wear heavy armor, but is clad in markings of faith. He has heard of her reputation, chosen light of the Empire, but it hardly makes it easy to start smalltalk. He sits quietly through the sermon, an attentive man, but glancing towards her once or twice, certainly aware now she is a woman as well as a living miracle. But made of flesh and blood just as he was. While he was dark, she was luminus as the moon turned them different colors as it's light shined through the stained glass windows. As the Prelate went through the sermon, a story of a young man that was born in one of their poorer territories with nothing but a future of crime ahead of him, he rose from nothing to a merchant of fruit through the aid of the Empire. Alexandria smiled throughout it and chuckled with the faithfull as he made a quip of 'baring good fruit'. The Prelate was a charismatic man and had a healthy sense of humor that endeared the flock to him. And Alexandria loved him. He was her surrogate father. At last it was time for the sacrament and Alexandria was called first to receive the 'Body of The First', and then she was to sing.
He shifts his large knees out of the way so she can pass, mindful of the white flow of her skirts. He looks on solemnly as he looks on to the service, an endless patience within him well suited to the sombre halls.
Backed up by the boys choir her sweet voice was lost amid the others but she did not care. She was eager for it to be over. And when she let the last note of the well known hymn fade, returned to her seat. After the final slip of the loaf and swallow of wine the prelate spoke.
'Sons and daughters, I have an announcement.'
Brendan could see she looked extreemly discomforted.
'The Blessed has had a dream.' The Prelate went on. 'I believe it to be a prophetic one. In it was St. Maximilllion and he stood amid ruins of a great city. He said but this; that Evil had come to Tel Vinrae.'
He looks thoughtful... frowning, well aware of the risks of evil at the heart of the seat of the world's peace
The crowd broke out in murmers and most made a sign against evil. Evil being sometimes anything contrary to the unity of the Empire. But most understood ~true Evil~. The Prelate continued. 'The Blessed must go to the Prelate of St. Maximillion's and deliver her warning and her desire to aid him in person. She will be leaving us, but a new Blessed will take her place here. Someday she can return to us when the Evil has passed, if the Saints see fit. However the road to Tel Vinrae is a long and treacherous. She will need a Champion. A protecter, of both her body and spirit. It will mean taking up his roots and moving to that city till the Evil has been struck down. It may mean laying down his life for the sake of The Blessed.' He looked with dark and serious eyes over the flock. 'Who will rise up to be this Champion?'
He is thoughtful for just a moment, then rises up, saying without missing a breath I would, sir. Brendan Dean. His name is known more by his parents, academics in the Imperial Academy, history and geology, their youngest son
She looked to Brendan with a bit of surprise - And was that hope that saw flash in her sapphire eyes? - but then another rose up, this time a well known Templar, many years Brendan's senior. And then a man with a staff and the tatoos of a monk, and finally a well dressed man with a long sword, who looked down his nose at the upstart, Brendan, as if he was daring him to throw down among his betters.
He stands firm, sincere, looking to the priest for guidance. He won't boast or bluster, but he trusts in the authority of the man close to the purest who should be right for the task. His eyes do, burn with an intensity of desire to do this, however, unmistakable. A certain zeal?
The Prelate looked over the candidates, reading the honesty of Brendan who was closest to him and then to each of the others in turn. 'Will you step forward to the dias, please?'
He steps forward, not meeting the surprised gaze of his family as he approaches to stand at attention. They looked at him, mystified, as if he'd just grown a second head. What was he doing? He had a future here. A wife already picked out for him! His father's mouth gaped and closed like a fish gasping for water and his mother looked like she was about to have the vapors! All of the candidates were gathered. The Templar was a bit bowed with age. Perhaps he had sought an honorable death by volenteering. The monk was younger then Brendan and flexed his staff and had a difficulty just remaining still, strange for one who meditated. He looked straight ahead and never at Alexandria. The one next Branden was brazen about it, not QUITE leering at her, and he also sported a signet ring. It was obvious that he had been preening for a chance to court her. He glared at Brendan and spoke out of the corner of his mouth to him. 'She's out of your league, pigeon. I'm the falcon who will fly her.'
He looks to the priest, and to the woman he hopes may be his duty... not being baited. Either he or the nobleman wins, either way well beyond any chance of comeuppance at his cold shoulder.
The Prelate smiled and jestured to Alexandria. He was affording her a great honor by allowing her to choose who would accompany her. Women in the Empire generally did not enjoy the freedoms of a Tel Vinrae native, for instance.
'The choice falls to you, Blessed One. How will you do so? Trial by combat? It is a long way to Tel Vinrae.'
He looks on to Alexandria, lowering his eyes in respect. He's a solid sort of fellow, but not outstanding in any field, but he did stand first!
You honor me, Holy Father.' She spoke, and it seemed like she spoke to everyone. Each one, an individual, even as she focused her attention on him alone. The woman seemed reserved, but she shined like a polished gem when she wanted to. 'To give me the honor to choose.' Her gaze was cast over every member of the small cotery. She seemed to be looking into their very souls, as her hand smoothed over the ever present rosery and holy symbol. 'I would not deem to spoil the garden by pulling up the roots already planted.' She began by addressing the Templar. 'You, Sir D'lion, are much loved by every member of the congregation and we still remember your protection of us from the brigands in the spring of three years ago. That alone would ensure your place in paradise.' She went on to the young monk. 'Waters, you are a promising student according to your masters. Your steadiness will come with time and I would not deny you your opportunity of their continued council.' The boy's shoulders relaxed as Alexandria correctly identified his fear. He had only chose to join because he thought it was expected of him. Her eyes then fell on the nobleman. 'Sir Prelotis, I am honored by your...noble intentions to be my protector, but I would not dare to remove you from the city's advisory board. Which leads me to you, Brendan Dean.' She spoke his name as if it was all he was and all he could be. 'Tell me why you would wish to champion me?'
He is... not a man accustomed to public speaking, and here before his family especially. They have plans for him indeed, but... not plans he cares for. Yet how best to honor them, in publically defying their intentions? He suggests with... a reluctant tone to the honesty, choosing words for tact. 'Many reasons, milady. But foremost... I have been praying for direction for some time, and searching for a chance to make the world better, as best I can.' Most disappointing to his parents from their frowns. Yet... he is a man of thirty, odd perhaps that they are still in his affairs?
'I am not sure how I will be received in Tel Vinrae. I believe the Prelate of St. Maxamillions has known for some time that ill winds blow there, yet I am untested by the evil we will face.' She smiled faintly to Brendan and him alone. 'But I do know the direction of the City of Peace, and making the world better is one my goals as well. So, your Holiness?
'Yes?' The priest replied with a smile.
He looks on, permitting a small smile, reading from her words, he thinks... her answer, looking up to his holiness
'Pray for us, so that we may succeed together in our quest?'
And laying his hand on both their foreheads, he did. As the other candidates left the dias, one happy, another relieved, and one with a glare at the man finally chosen. He wasn't about to give up on his prize.
He can't help but smile... he's no knight, his emotions show, moving up by the altar to her side, his heart fast 'Thank you for the honor...'
The crowd slowly flowed out. There were many who lingered, some - namely Brendan's parents - for some explaination, but the Prelate ran interferance for him as long as he could, going on about how he was floating without a spiritual anchor...While finally left to themselves for a moment, she smiled up at him. 'You must be desperate to throw your lot in with me. I know almost every one of these people, but you are are a complete mystery to me.'
'Some desparation, some inspiration.' He is thoughtful, then deciding just to offer what he can. 'I had an injury for many years, it's healed, but... It's left me without many of the experiences of a younger man. I had been intended for the clergy, apprenticeships go to younger men, this is... truly an opportunity I hope to give myself fully towards. I am not right for the clergy.'
'Some are and some are just...not.' She shrugged, still smiling. 'It is wise you see that before you make a mistake and be miserable. I am glad you have more years, as I know I have been cosetted for all of mine.
'I will not equate my years to wisdom, milady. But I'll see your journey is complete.' He says with a bow to her. 'I'd like a night with my family, before we depart. To say farewell. But otherwise, I'm ready immediately, and have my own horse.'
'I am afraid I do not.' She grimaced. 'We can ride double. I already know we can travel most of the way with a caravan.'
'I can hike whenever we don't get a better offer.' He says with a smile. He's fit and strong, and quietly proud of that
'I'm afraid I am not that strong but I have a sturdy staff.' Her grin gradually faded. 'Brendan, may I call you that? I think there is something you need to know about me. I am a pacifist. I do not believe in violence against another, or only as a last resort. Creatures of evil must be destroyed, but I will not raise my staff except to save the life of another.'
'I admire and respect your stance. I will not need to be told to hold back twice, it's not my disposition.' He says with a nod to her, trying to reassure her he'll be worthy.
She reached up to place a hand on his shoulder. After all they might be riding double together so they might as well get the physical awkwardness out of the way. 'There is also one more thing. After telling the Prelate about my dream, I was examined, spiritually and...bodily...by the Nuns. When I get to Tel Vinrae I will most likey be examined again. I am celibate unless I choose to marry. Sometimes such things disturb the conduit of power we access, I think it has to do with feelings of guilt.'
'I'll be your brother at rest, your shield in strife, and your shadow when you need to shine.' He says with a smile to her, reaching a hand atop her forearm to the arm on his shoulder reassuringly.
'I know you will serve me well, but we are partners. If you think of something less dangerous in our journey do let my know!'
He nods to her, saying 'When we knelt at the altar, it felt... as weighty as a marriage to me. Even if there's to be an end in time. I take it as seriously.'
'As do I, my friend. Now let us prepare ourselves for this journey.'