51 The Child of Light

Throughout the city, the members of the 'Gold Guards' went about. Purchasing what must be bought, completing what should be done, and contemplating that which would be. 

Yet, each one's day was different from the next, though a certain individual's time was spent far removed from the others. 

Golden locks fell downwards, tickling the sides of Gabriel's face as he held his head low. But not once did he shift, nor a hand come to fix the strands in place. All his mind knew was the touch of clasped hands, the joy of melodious hums, and the peace of calming darkness. 

 All things he had sorely missed.

While the main house he and his compatriots lived in was nice and the bar often visited an old haunt, he never did mark either as a place of refuge.

No. To Gabriel, it was the Church of the Goddess he called home. The frayed cloth—the same torn piece he had traveled in—was surely proof of his longing. 

How long had it been, he wondered? Free from bickering and fighting and running and—Ah.

Catching himself, Gabriel chased away the stray thoughts with a breath of clean air. There would be time for this later. For now, it was a time for prayer. For reflection.

For penitence.

Penitence: the word sent a shiver down his spine. One that neither the ambient warmth nor thick gray robe of his could keep out.

For all his works and prayers, the sting never did disappear. It had dulled, lessened...but guilt was an emotion none could escape. Nor was it static. All it took was a single act to sharpen the blade once more, and his new sin was the perfect whetstone. 

Perhaps...

Yellow pupils were revealed by the tilt of his head, like a man gazing upon a hill with the hope his destination lay behind.

Perhaps his devotion would be recognized...And folly forgiven.

Afterall, it was not he who voted to keep going. It was not he who lusted for treasure. Yes, he was not to blame.

Swept along by the inner turmoil, Gabriel failed to notice the arrival of a golden-cloaked man, nor did he take notice when he took a seat by his side.

"It has been long, child," His soft voice pulled Gabriel back as the priest lent a hand of comfort. "A long time, indeed. Why, I don't believe spring had come before you went off. And not a single visit...Tell me, is all well? I know your job demands travel, but this?"

Confusion, disbelief, and worry coated his question. So much so that Gabriel couldn't help but turn away his face. While his job did make visits sporadic, the longest trip before had only been a month. It was natural for the priest to worry about his health.

After a brief pause, Gabriel turned to the priest—to Vernon—with an expression of calm, though his fingers pitched at the hem of his sleeves. "I promise you, Father Vernon, none of us thought we would be gone for so long. If any of us knew..."

Vernon nodded as Gabriel trailed off, noticing the unkept robe. The sleeves were torn and bore multiple holes, leaving their origins unknown but free to the imagination.

'Looks as if he has had his own share of troubles. His face almost looked like my own with all those wrinkles...'

Vernon unconsciously rubbed his forehead as they sat in the Church, letting the hymns and incense ease the young believer's heart.

Surrounding the pews they rested on, gilded arches held the walls and ceilings of marble steady and framed the colored glass panes. While sunlight reigned supreme during the majority of the day, the coming of night had dulled the glow, leaving but dim red rays to shine upon those inside.

White and gold: the themes of the Church. While white was a symbol of its values, gold was the marking of its members. 

It was a place built to symbolize purity and provide comfort, yet neither's eyes drifted throughout the room. Their focus was on an obelisk, carved with runes and images that danced in an indecipherable movement as sparks of white glimmered from time to time.

It rested behind the altar, with a white peak stretching to touch the heights of the Church. The four sides matched the cardinal directions, as did all others throughout the kingdom. Few could ignore such a monument due to its size and design, and fewer still when aware of its function.

"Hah," Vernon sighed, breaking the moment of meditation. "Beautiful, isn't it? For thirty years I have been a priest, but it never grows old to see it."

A small smile grew on Gabriel's face as his pupils reflected a flashing light. "I couldn't imagine it ever being boring. They are almost like fireflies, how they glow and vanish."

"Fireflies? Hmm...Yes, an apt comparison." He mused, rubbing the tip of his chin. "Though I must admit, it has been a decent amount of time since I saw one. I do not envy your position, but the ability to freely walk amongst nature? That is a perk our clergy lacks."

"You could always travel to a chapel," Gabriel suggested. The presence of the church was not limited to just large towns; most villages held a chapel of their own, though far smaller in size compared to a true Church. 

Alas, Vernon spent little time in discarding the idea: "I've considered it before. But between the light of stars and the glow of our deity, the latter will always be first. I respect those who preach in the far corners of this continent, but it would pain me to be without a holy gate."

While all were equal in the eyes of their Goddess, this grace did not extend to the temples themselves. Only the largest ones held an obelisk of their own: a holy gate. A creation to show the acceptance of souls to the world beyond with each flash, as well as a promise to every follower of Her order: 'Your worship will not go unrewarded. Behold, the proof of my love!'

Compared to Gabriel's admiration, Vernon held a more somber expression as he saw another flicker. "Sometimes I wonder if it is wrong of me, but I like to see the fruits of my work." 

"I see nothing wrong with it. After all, it is not just death that it shows, but the beginning of a neverending existence." Gabriel replied, quick to reassure.

"As much as I may agree, death still plays its grim part. See that man?" Gabriel followed Vernon's outstretched finger, finding a man two rows to their left with pen and paper in hand. The more Gabriel looked, the more he noticed how out of place he seemed. The stranger's gaze was less religious and more observant, making a mark with each flash of light. 

"Kalle is his name. A regular attendant during the later hours of the day, despite not attending a single service of ours. Do you know why?" 

It seemed Vernon did not care for a response, as he immediately provided the answer: "He works at the mortuary. His job is to keep track of the number of flashes throughout the evening. Helps with scheduling for the day after, or so I am told."

"After all this time, I am not sure whether to admire his dedication to such a tedious task or pray for his soul." The gold seams of his robe rose a few inches as he added with an exasperated shrug: "The Oracles of Light does not say it is a sin, but neither is his work something I find comfort in."

"I...Can see the benefit. But does he need to seem so cold? If he wasn't so...Uncaring? I wouldn't mind his presence then. The way he looks at the gate, I don't like it." Gabriel said, none too pleased.

"Nor do I, dear boy. Nor do I. Still, it is not my place to judge. Perhaps this is just another aspect of Her blessing given to the darker side of this world. After all, I deal with the salvation of the living, while he lays the dead to rest. To ever see eye to eye—Heh, I have no wish for that."

Gabriel let out a smile of amusement as Vernon huffed. As accepting as he tried to be, the older priest never did fully accept how secular some treated the object of many a Church's pride. Yet, Gabriel knew Vernon would continue to try. That was the kind of man he was. One who could earn the respect of any by the openness he showed to all. That was why Gabriel enjoyed his company; he understood.

"I thought of you, Gabriel. During services, meetings, prayers...You weren't forgotten here. At some point, you came to mind when I looked at the gate as well. Seeing the shimmering each day and knowing your job, I feared one of them was you."

"I'm sorry, Father Vernon. Truly, I am. Our trip was...not a wise choice. It will not happen again."

"I agree that it shouldn't. But, Gabriel—don't you think it may be time to think of another path?"

"Pardon?"

"Ah—well, what you do, it is not an easy job. Quite frankly, anyone who makes it ten years in the field of...'Adventuring'...Deserves recognition. Maybe even a break, wouldn't you think?"

Gabriel's eyes blinked in rapid succession from a mixture of shock and disbelief, thinking he had heard wrongly. But Vernon's heavy brows and firm tone did not allow any misunderstanding.

'Retirement...' Gabriel thought, mulling it over. A concept so vague in his mind, that he never spent time considering it. This was also the first time Vernon had made such a suggestion, leaving him to wonder the exact reasoning.

Had the length of the trip truly been so long? Was this the reason? Or had Vernon just seen the momentary weakness and mistaken it for waning ambition?

Either way, his first instinct was to deny it. Although ten years was a long time, it was not like he had lost his touch. On the contrary, his magic had only grown with each passing year, as it would for many more to come. 

Yet, the thought did not leave. In truth, Gabriel had no great desire to be an adventurer. His heart lay elsewhere. A shame it had been denied, time and time again, by the same mentor who sat beside him. Now, his wish had long been buried. Hidden underneath a layer of hopelessness and somber acceptance.

But...Perhaps...

Gabriel's calm heart seemed to skip a beat as a strange heat coursed through him. Burning away the thin veneer wrapped around the sole want— No, need —he had ever known since leaving his home.

Perhaps this time was different. Perhaps this time, Vernon would say 'yes.'

A deeper reflection took over his eyes as they glanced down at Vernon's robes and met his gaze once more.

"If I retired," His voice was barely a hoarse whisper, burdened by a mixture of emotions. "Would you allow me entry to the Church? As an official member?"

Hope. Anxiety. Fear. Each one was displayed as Gabriel nervously awaited a response, searching for any sign of acceptance on the suprised priestly face. But as fast as his hopes were raised, a heavy sigh and shake of the head dashed them to bits, leaving only a deep sense of hollowness.

"...Why must you bring this up? We've talked about this, Gabriel. And my answer will always be the same: You can worship in the house of the Goddess, you can recieve Her guidance and offer your devotion. But entry into the ranks as a priest? It cannot be, nor will it."

"I-I thought...You said I should retire?" He choked out. A lump in his throat battling every syllable. 

Why else would Vernon suggest this? It...Wasn't the offer he had been waiting for? Serving and learning all these years. Was he not essentially a priest already? He had played the part. His acts, prayers, and appearance, which were not up to the code in the last ten years, save for something he had no fault in?

Vernon could only offer a kind hand and smile of solace as he watched Gabriel visibly deflate. He gently took a hand shielding Gabriel's face, one of grief and devastation, and placed it on his own palm.

"I'm afraid I was too vague in my words. Being an adventurer is a hard life, Gabriel. Hard. So many services are held for a grieving family, and most are without a body to say goodbye to. I don't want that fate to befall you and your friends."

"Have you thought of becoming a healer? Between your kindness and talent in magic, you can make a name for yourself wherever you go. You could have a house, a family—a good life. All you have to do is take the step." Vernon said.

Despite his attempts at comfort, Gabriel had no reaction. His hand hung limp in Vernon's grasp and his eyes stared unfocused at the ground. 

Seeing his pitiful display, Vernon traced the marks of hardship once more, his sight aided by the flash of the obelisk. 'Strange, how they glitter.' His attention was caught by a familiar shimmer, though not quite able to place it.

"I thought you had made peace with this. You told me years ago, you understood a priest's life was not for you. Why bring it up again?"

'Why else?' Gabriel wondered with bitterness. Salvation for his sin. 

Unlike the other members of the 'Gold Guards', fear of his fate in the afterlife remained omnipresent, unsure of where the path led. Deeds of devotion, acts of faith, and a hunger for a Church position, all led to his singular goal: to balance the scales. And after Gary released a plague onto the world, he dared not think of whether they had shifted.

'But, can I even tell him?'

Centuries had passed, with each generation fully believing the demon king had been vanquished. Gabriel had certainly thought so, and he was well aware of just how ridiculous his story would sound.

But an even greater feeling kept his mouth shut: fear of Vernon believing him.

His stomach dropped as he came to the realization. He could not. Would not. 

A sin, he considered. Far from a pleasant thought, but what was the omission of truth? If it was to come out, let it come from the mouth of the real sinner.

"Hah, nothing. It is...nothing," Gabriel gripped Vernon's hand and denied, failing to take note of Vernon grasping his sleeves. "It's just...Can you blame me? To have a golden robe and a promise of passage—I'd do anything for it."

The perks of becoming a member of the church were not many. Authority may be given, as was shelter and food. But the main draw of joining was not of the mortal world; It was the promise of entry into Her gates.

It was an offer any unsure of their fate wished to receive. Gabriel was no different, finding it ever more delectable in recent times. 

Yet, instead of pity, a frown met Gabriel's outcry, as did a look he had not seen in years: one of judgment at him and his frayed robe. 

'This child! To think his obsession went so far!?' 

"Never say that." 

"...Never say what?" Gabriel asked.

"That you'd give anything. Such language is used by debtors and addicts, and I pray you are neither. If you wish for penance, then take up a ladle or join the clinic. Both are more meaningful than your current occupation, at least. Besides, a promise of passage...It is an emptier offer than one would think."

Gabriel watched with wide eyes as Vernon rose from his seat with a swish of his robe and motioned for him to follow suit. Gabriel quickly did as signaled, though he failed to meet the old priest's gaze. His stony eyes may appear a lake of calm, but disapproval still lingered. 

"Another thing, Gabriel."

"Yes?"

"Should you truly respect the Church. Respect Her. Might I suggest a change of attire? You might not speak of it, but those frayed hems say enough. As does their color." Vernon spat.

There was no mistaking it. Underneath the light, certain threads seemed to sparkle, as any made of metal would. Vernon would know; for only priests could weave their robes with a material symbolic of their Goddess.

With those final words, he turned away with a flap of his robe, the golden threads illuminated by a shortlived flash of light from the gate. Then he walked away without another word, uncaring of the young man's gawking behind his back.

Gabriel stood frozen in place before holding a sleeve up, rubbing his finger along the frayed edges with a confused frown. It did not take long for his eyes to widen in horror, sparkling with a luster more akin to the gold of man rather than the light of the sun before shoving his hands behind his back.

He quickly began to walk out, minding to cover as many holes and odd threads during his retreat.

Only once he was outside the Church did he halt. His head was downturned with a back facing the Church, before slowly turning to look behind. The orange of twilight reflected off the roof onto his stiff face, minutes before shadow claimed the town of Sherfield for the night.

'You promised...You promised salvation! I have pleaded for ten years. Not once did I miss a prayer, not once did I ever harm a single fly on this forsaken continent! When will it be enough? Why can't you just give it to me!'

It was for the briefest moment, not even a second. But there was no peace or calm on his visage, only a consuming snarl as he glared past the white pillars and at the shut hinges of the door.

Gabriel yanked his head away with a huff and walked forward. There was no longer any visible anger. Just a blank mask. But his shoulders shook with a faint tremble. If his robes were any shorter, passersby would have seen the clenched fists.

The feeling of judgment. Of denial. he did not like it.