It was the dusk of night. The time where children went fast asleep, and adults wrapped up their day. The merchants in Hearth Row closed their stalls, farmers went home after a long day of work, and the church rang its evening bell.
Father Rhion stood by his desk, and recited the Litany of Dusk, a quiet benediction for those who must face the night.
"O Phōreneion, keeper of the fading flame,
When the sun withdraws its eye,
Guard the breath that still burns within us.
The world sinks into the hollow of Thy hand---
We are embers in the ash of Thy will.
Bind again the nameless dark,
Seal the hollow where it waits to feed.
For Light is not without its shadow,
And shadow is the memory of Light.
Let no whisper find the soul unguarded,
Let no dream stray beyond Thy wall.
In silence we keep the watch,
Until dawn recalls the covenant.
Thus speak we in the breath between breaths---
Not to be heard, but to be remembered."
Once uttered, he extinguished all candles except one. That was the Lamp of Vigil, said to represent the first emperor's dying breath, passed down as the empire's eternal flame.
"..tuk..tuk..tuk"
There were three knocks at the door of his office. Due to the recent events, it was likely Acolyte Mareth who had concerns about the children.
"You may come in."
"Good evening, Father, I'm sorry to bother you at this time, but I would like to speak to you about today." she stated, entering his office.
"Is it about the children?"
"Yes, Father."
"What are your concerns regarding them?" he asked.
"It's just that...these children came from nowhere. When they fell asleep, I asked around Hearth Row if they saw the children passing by there or even at the train station."
"And what did the people you asked say?"
"No one saw them."
Coming into the small village of Vel was no easy task. There were two ways to enter Vel: by train, or by carriage past the guarded gate --- both routes passing through Hearth Row. The only other possible way to enter was by using teleportation magic.
However, the first two ways were invalid based on Acolyte Mareth's words, and from what Father Rhion could sense, these children didn't have enough mana to pull off teleportation magic.
So, where exactly did these children come from?
What past did they carry with them?
What happened to them?
While Father Rhion wanted to know, it seemed like all three of them were tight-lipped about such things --- or at least two of them were. Zephirael was quite open about it, yet none of what he said made sense. Mira and Leslie were the calmer ones, but held the secret of their origin close.
What was more concerning was the fact that Zephirael attempted murder on Mira and Leslie. It was obvious he held animosity toward them.
Still, these children were his responsibility. They would stay at the orphanage until they had the means to survive on their own.
"Their origins are of no consequence," Father Rhion said, his tone gentle but firm. "they are here now, and that is enough. We will place them under the church's protection."
Mareth's expression softened. "I agree, Father. They deserve shelter, whatever their past may be."
"Acolyte Mareth, you should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us."
"Of course, Father. May your rest be undisturbed."
As she left his office, he opened up the box containing the blade he had asked for her to pick up. Inside, the interior was lined with deep crimson velvet, the blade resting snugly in a carved groove, hilt perfectly centered and polished to a soft gleam.
It was a blade made for a warrior, a shadow of what he once was. Time had aged him into becoming someone who helped others, a priest in his case.
Despite that, he couldn't shake off the feeling that conflict would come soon to the Lumerian Empire. The recent prophecy from the saintess didn't help either. From his contacts, they said it foretold that the reign of the new crown would be bathed in shadow and blood.
The cast sky will bear witness to the new dawn,
where a crown shall rise from the graves of kings,
and peace will wither in its shadow.
***
Mira woke up at the dawn's early light. She was placed to rest in the girls' quarters, which housed only three children --- including herself. The two children residing with her were a five-year old and a two-year old. Their names respectively were Clara and Janet. They were lively young children who never seemed to tire of games. She had played with them repeatedly before going to bed.
She woke up early in hopes of avoiding them. Mira got ready for the day, and dressed in the Church's provided clothing: a blouse of off-white linen with wooden buttons, a faded blue sleeveless pinafore patched at the hem, a cream apron tied at the back, scuffed leather lace-up boots, and mismatched woolen socks.
Afterwards, she left the room to explore the orphanage. A two-story annex connected to the church. It had creaking floors and sunlit rooms. Behind it, there was a small garden growing lilies.
On the way to the dining hall, she ran into Acolyte Mareth.
"Good morning, Mira." greeted Mareth, smiling.
"Good morning, Ms. Mareth"
"Are you hungry? Would you like for me to make you breakfast?"
Breakfast sounded nice, and she was hungry.
"Yes, if you don't mind."
Mareth quickly prepared a meal of pancakes and fruit for Mira, setting it on the table.
Mira swiftly sat down, and said "Thank you, Ms. Mareth."
Then, she ate to her heart's content, yet it seemed Mareth had some things to say.
"Mira, today, you and your companions will be going out with Father Rhion."
"I see. Will you be joining us as well?"
"No, I will be taking care of church during Father Rhion's absence."
"I see."
Why were the three of them going out with Father Rhion? Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be anything dangerous as her intuition wasn't acting up. Mira just guessed she would just find out for herself.
"Mira, once you're done eating, head to the church for morning prayer."
"Alright, Ms. Mareth," Mira replied.
While Mira wasn't entirely religious, it was respectful to go as she was their guest.
***
Watching Father Rhion recite the morning prayer --- or, as her seat neighbor called it, the Litany of Dawn --- was interesting, to say the least. The congregation present were in deep prayers --- even the children bowed their heads in silence. The only ones who were not deep in prayer were herself, Leslie, and Zephirael. They all sat apart from each other. Leslie sat in the center-front row. She was in the right-middle row, and Zephirael was in the right-front row.
Weirdly enough, Zephirael seemed to be oddly ... in awe of Father Rhion's prayer recital. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. At the very least, he wasn't causing trouble.
At the conclusion of the Litany of Dawn, the congregation began to leave, and Father Rhion had gathered the three of them outside the church. Leslie still seemed to be tense around Zephirael, so he hid beside Mira. In contrast, Zephirael paid Leslie no mind; instead, he seemed full of excitement.
Consequently, just as Father Rhion was about to say something to them. Zephirael decided to make a declaration.
"Father Rhion of the Orphanage of the Silver Lilies, I, Zephirael the Blood Hunter, shall defeat you in battle with my followers." he shouted.
"Sheep One," he said, pointing at Leslie. "And Sheep Two," he added, pointing at Mira.
"Attack!" he ordered loudly, pointing at Father Rhion.
Mira couldn't believe her ears or her eyes at the moment.
What was this f***king brat talking about? Did he think she and Leslie were his followers? Where in the world did he get that idea from?
Amongst the four of them, only a long, quiet silence filled the air. That's when Zephirael noticed something was off.
"Why are you sheep not attacking on my command?!" he barked, looking at Leslie and Mira.
Annoyed, she retorted back, "And, why in the world did you think we would follow your orders, brat? You tried to kill us."
"Yes, I did. Although, you sheep are not stronger than me, I decided to grant you the grace of becoming my followers because you've proven to me that you are worthy." he smiled, proud of himself.
On the other hand, Father Rhion blinked slowly, as if trying to process what he'd just heard. Then, he spoke.
"Zephirael," he began evenly, "if you wish to wage holy war, I suggest you wait until after we've completed your registration papers."
He adjusted his sleeves, motioning for the group to start walking."Until then, you may refrain from issuing military orders to my orphans."
Zephirael frowned, clearly not expecting that answer. "You're not taking me seriously, are you?"
Rhion gave him a look --- that weary, half-amused sort that priests acquire after hearing too many confessions and dealing with chaotic children.
"My dear boy," he said, "I've been a priest for fifteen years. I stopped taking self-proclaimed blood hunters seriously after the first three."
Mira snorted, quickly trying to hide her laughter behind her hand. Leslie just stood there confused.
Rhion gestured toward the carriage. "Now, unless you plan on declaring war on Hearth Row's civil office as well, I suggest we proceed. I would very much like to make it there before sunset."
***
Hearth Row was a lively place full of people. The markets seemed to be full of joy, and people kept a smile on their faces. It seemed peaceful, well no, it was peaceful. That's what Mira could observe from this place.
At some point in time the carriage stopped. They were in front of a building called Seer Apothecary, some sort of clinic from what she could assume. It was an odd name --- but more importantly, what were they doing here?
Leslie asked first, "Excuse me, but ...Father Rhion, why are we here?"
"For a medical evaluation, of course." Father Rhion said with a faint smile.
"What's a medical evaluation?" Zephirael questioned.
"It's nothing frightening," Father Rhion assured. "A apothecary will simply look you over to see that you're growing well and not falling ill. It's part of being registered under the church's care."
"That sounds ridiculous. I'm already strong." he grumbled.
"Ah, don't make that face," Father Rhion said with a small chuckle. "They're not going to poke you with anything sharp --- well, not too much. It's just to make sure you're healthy."
The more Mira observed the conversation, the more evidence she had to conclude that Zephirael was an idiot. Yeah, he was a monster in the dungeon, but now, he was nothing more than a wild brat.
As they went inside, there was a doctor, or an apothecary in this case, to assist them on their checkups. Each of them, except for Father Rhion, would go one by one. Mira was first.
She was led to a chamber that smelled faintly of camphor and rosemary. Rows of glass jars lined the walls, filled with dried leaves, powdered roots, and amber-colored stuff. Beneath, brass scales gleamed beside bundles of parchment notes.
Mira sat on a wooden stool, her feet not quite touching the floor. It quite a sight to see. She used to be taller than this. Her feet could touch the ground, and she didn't have to worry about going to the doctor as often. Only now, she was back at the age where kids went to the doctor for check ups. Honestly, it was weird.
Focusing her attention back at the apothecary, he moved around her in practiced silence ---measuring her height against the wall, noting her weight upon the brass scale, then taking her wrist gently to feel for her pulse. He studied her eyes, lifting her chin toward the light, then brushed her hair aside to inspect her ears and the nape of her neck.
Following that, he placed the smooth crystal upon her palm, a faint shimmer of white light flickered, then faded. He watched a moment longer, and then wrote a quiet note upon his ledger.
He tapped a hammer lightly along her ribs, her shoulders, her spine --- noting the healthiness of her bones. A spoonful of dark syrup followed, bitter and metallic on the tongue.
The check ended as quietly as it began. The apothecary's tools clicked softly as they were set aside, and the faint scratching of his quill filling the silence. Mira waited, motionless on the stool, her hands folded neatly in her lap, until she was told to leave.
So, she left and returned back to the group. Next, it was Leslie's turn. She, Father Rhion, and Zephirael waited until he was done. When he came out, Rhion and Zephirael went into the chamber.
From that moment, Leslie sat quietly next to her. More precisely, he had been quiet ever since they arrived at the apothecary.
"Hey, ki-...Leslie, is everything ok?"
"...Yes, it's just that everything so different" Leslie confessed.
"Yeah," Mira said after a pause. "It really is."
"I...I know that we'll probably reside at the orphanage for a while and I guess ... grow up again."
"Yeah."
"But, I don't really know how to act around Zephirael. He really... was the monster from the dungeon, and now he's weaker which is a good thing, I guess. But, he tried killing us, and now we have to live together."
"Well, yeah."
"And, I don't know if I could fight back if he tries to attack me again. I mean ... I was really weak as a child, and it wasn't until I became a B-rank awakener that I started getting stronger. Now, I'm back to being that weak child. I just ... don't know if I could be around Zephirael."
"It's natural to be afraid after what happened. No one expects you to face him alone, but avoiding him won't rewrite the past. Eventually, that fear will get to you, and you'll be afraid of him forever.
Learn how to be stronger again. From the very beginning, if you must. You're not that same child anymore, even if your body says otherwise. You've already proven that once.
Until you decide what you want to do --- not out of fear, but choice. I will watch over Zephirael, and I'm sure Father Rhion will help keep him in check." Mira said simply, meaning every word.
Leslie exhaled slowly, a small, shaky smile forming. "Alright… I'll try."
Soon after, Zephirael and Father Rhion came back, and now they were headed to Hearth Row's civil office.
Upon arriving there, it appeared to have no one inside. When they went in, there was an old receptionist at the counter. Father Rhion went to talk to her while the three children sat down. Later, he filled out some documents which were for them, from what Mira could assume.
In the hours that followed, he finished and was handed three necklaces from the old receptionist. It was a wooden disc, smoothed and engraved with a sheaf of wheat. She, Leslie, and Zephirael were each handed one.
"What is this thing for?" Zephirael asked, playing with it.
"It's proof that the three of you are now residents of Vel." Father Rhion replied.
"It looks fragile." Zephirael muttered.
"Be careful not to lose it, and keep it around your necks." Rhion kindly instructed.
"Does that mean we're going to be residing at the orphanage officially now?" Mira inquired.
"That's right. All three of you will be under the church's protection."