17 VHALAR, 704 ⋆ A SMALL CHAPEL IN GLEAM
He did not like the little girl with the chestnut-colored hair. She always wore it pulled too tightly to the sides, strained over her little scalp and tied off into pigtails that curled at the ends. Vito had heard after the previous trial’s service that her mother worked in Lair, though his informants were children hardly older than he was, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that they probably were not allowed into whatever establishment the girl’s mother worked in. If it was true – and he suspected that it was, in spite of his unreliable sources – then he supposed it explained the ugly pigtails, but he could find no immediate excuse for the girl’s twirling of them around her finger, as if they were something worth admiring.
Wherever her mother worked, she was there now, which meant the daughter had to stay with him until she got back. She was not the only child that Vito spent his trials with, but she was harder than even the others for him to tolerate for longer than a few breaks’ service. Snot dripped from her nose and escaped her notice, drawn out by the air outside, and Vito wished it was the only unappealing thing about her.
“Vito,” she whispered all too loudly, and he glanced up from his book to check that she had not disturbed the entire chapel. To his relief, he was met with no other inquiring stares but hers, and hers could be ignored easily enough if he found a way to block out the noise. “What are you reading?”
It was a stupid question, but for no other reason besides the fact that it was annoying. Vito narrowed his eyes at her, colored a vibrant magenta against his pale, freckled skin. Her pigtails were even worse from up close.
“It’s called Bandaging A Wounded World. Father Vilar gave it to me.”
He was not reading it, but she did not need to know that. He was only looking at the pictures and skimming over the rest, but she looked bothered by his possession of it, and it made him want to bother her more. Vito looked away from her and back down to the book, and he flipped to the next page while he told her matter-of-factly, “it is very informative.”
“You don’t even know what that word means!” the girl insisted, and she was right, but that did not mean he wanted her to say it out loud like that. Vito glowered at her and turned his legs away from her, crossed at the ankles. She scooted closer on the cold stone pew beneath them, and poked at his shoulder until he could not stand it anymore and had to look back at her. “Can I see it? What’s it about?”
“No, you can’t see it,” Vito pouted, holding the book away from her when she reached over him for it. “Father Vilar gave it to me, you’re going to ruin it!”
“How am I gonna ruin it? I’ve never read one, I just wanna see it!”
It was then that Vito stood up, stepping quickly out of her reach and holding the book up above his head and away from her. She swiped at him, and when that failed, she followed him off of the bench. “Sit down!” he demanded, but she ignored it, as expected. Vito made his way hastily out of the pew and into the aisle, and only barely stepped out of the way of the girl’s charge towards him. She laughed like it was funny, but it was anything but funny. She was uncivilized, and he did not know what that meant, but it sounded like a word that would fit her. He picked up the pace as he hurried down the aisle and towards the center of the stone floor.
Three Tribunals readied the chapel for the trial’s later service, setting out stone bowls and leather parchments filled with verse. Preparations were not yet complete; Vito could only tell because the Tribunals were yet to adorn their ceremonial garb. He had watched them enough times to know that they would disappear into the side room next, where they kept the various blood-letting instruments and kept them safe and sharp when not in use. His only regret in sprinting down the aisle was that he had neglected to wait until they had retreated to the sides.
It was Tribunal Adelina that lifted her head first, dark eyes peering through the stray hairs that had fallen over her face. Her voice was louder than that of the little girl chasing after him, and he heard only the shrieked, annoyed tone of her shouting behind him.
“Children,” Adelina addressed, and the other Tribunals glanced away from their work to stare expectantly at Vito and the girl. “Please, refrain from running. What hurries you, Vito?”
He came to a stop just before her, where she sat with her knees pulled beneath her on the ground. Three bowls sat at her side, two smaller than the third. He had seen them all filled, and with enough luck and willing attendees, he would see them filled to the brim once again. Vito tried to catch his breath, but did not dare try her patience by taking any longer than necessary. He held up the book, and as soon as he did, the girl behind him reached for it again. “She – hey! That's mine!”
Vito swiveled to the side and shoved at the girl’s shoulder. She shrieked, and even the half-deaf Tribunal Heitor frowned at the noise. The book was held away from him and hidden at her side, and he might have tried to take it back from her, if he had not minded the thought of getting any closer to her.
“Vito!”
“She took my book!”
Tribunal Adelina grabbed at her robes and pulled herself from the floor. She approached them with a stern glare, obviously displeased to have been drawn away from her duties. Vito breathed out an irritated huff and stepped away from the other child.
“Give me the book,” said Adelina, extending a hand towards the girl. Reluctantly, the child complied, and the Tribunal turned the item over in her hands before it was held behind her back, beneath her folded hands. She nodded to the girl, dismissing her, and though she threw a glare in Vito’s direction, she turned around and walked back down the aisle.
The boy, however, was not dismissed as soon. Adelina knelt down in front of him to get his full attention, now just about eye-level with the young biqaj, and she inclined her head in the little girl’s direction. “You must learn restraint, my child, for moments like these. Many trying souls walk through those doors, and ever more of them dominate the world outside of our blessed church. We cannot leave them to fumble about in their foolishness, Vito, we must extend them patience–”
She reached for his hand, and Vito made the effort to soften his glare as his tiny fingers rested over hers.
“–if we wish to guide them to the healing light of He Who Bleeds. You understand this, child, do you not?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Because there are terrors far, far worse than little Dina. Now, if you wish for her and her parents to attend the service later, I think there is something that you owe to her.”
"Sorry."
"Yes, child. Tell her. Now go, you are dismissed."
He wanted to disagree and refuse to give her anything. Dina did not deserve an apology for taking his book and for making him upset the Tribunals, but he nodded regardless, and turned from Adelina with a quiet, resigned sigh. Sorry was only a word… it did not have to mean anything. He could not remember ever meaning it before.
Vito found her sitting on the bench they had left behind, lanky arms crossed over her chest, mouth set into a pout. She did not look at him when he sat down, but she gave another little huff when he copied the crossing of her arms. It was harder than he had even expected, to get himself to say it… he swallowed, and glared at the nearest wall. It was only two words; maybe one, if he wanted to extend the bare minimum to the undeserving girl.
“I’m sorry.”
Dina turned her head, expression shifting into something a little more smug. Her arms uncrossed, and she angled towards him on the bench.
“Hmm? Was that you, Vi? What’d you say there?”
Oh, she had heard him. Vito rolled his eyes and turned to meet her stare, colorful irises partially covered with an irritated squint. He already said it once, did he really need to say it again for the sake of her pride? He lifted his chin and repeated himself, and added another word that he had heard from the older kids the trial before.
“I said, I’m sorry your mother’s a whore…”
Wherever her mother worked, she was there now, which meant the daughter had to stay with him until she got back. She was not the only child that Vito spent his trials with, but she was harder than even the others for him to tolerate for longer than a few breaks’ service. Snot dripped from her nose and escaped her notice, drawn out by the air outside, and Vito wished it was the only unappealing thing about her.
“Vito,” she whispered all too loudly, and he glanced up from his book to check that she had not disturbed the entire chapel. To his relief, he was met with no other inquiring stares but hers, and hers could be ignored easily enough if he found a way to block out the noise. “What are you reading?”
It was a stupid question, but for no other reason besides the fact that it was annoying. Vito narrowed his eyes at her, colored a vibrant magenta against his pale, freckled skin. Her pigtails were even worse from up close.
“It’s called Bandaging A Wounded World. Father Vilar gave it to me.”
He was not reading it, but she did not need to know that. He was only looking at the pictures and skimming over the rest, but she looked bothered by his possession of it, and it made him want to bother her more. Vito looked away from her and back down to the book, and he flipped to the next page while he told her matter-of-factly, “it is very informative.”
“You don’t even know what that word means!” the girl insisted, and she was right, but that did not mean he wanted her to say it out loud like that. Vito glowered at her and turned his legs away from her, crossed at the ankles. She scooted closer on the cold stone pew beneath them, and poked at his shoulder until he could not stand it anymore and had to look back at her. “Can I see it? What’s it about?”
“No, you can’t see it,” Vito pouted, holding the book away from her when she reached over him for it. “Father Vilar gave it to me, you’re going to ruin it!”
“How am I gonna ruin it? I’ve never read one, I just wanna see it!”
It was then that Vito stood up, stepping quickly out of her reach and holding the book up above his head and away from her. She swiped at him, and when that failed, she followed him off of the bench. “Sit down!” he demanded, but she ignored it, as expected. Vito made his way hastily out of the pew and into the aisle, and only barely stepped out of the way of the girl’s charge towards him. She laughed like it was funny, but it was anything but funny. She was uncivilized, and he did not know what that meant, but it sounded like a word that would fit her. He picked up the pace as he hurried down the aisle and towards the center of the stone floor.
Three Tribunals readied the chapel for the trial’s later service, setting out stone bowls and leather parchments filled with verse. Preparations were not yet complete; Vito could only tell because the Tribunals were yet to adorn their ceremonial garb. He had watched them enough times to know that they would disappear into the side room next, where they kept the various blood-letting instruments and kept them safe and sharp when not in use. His only regret in sprinting down the aisle was that he had neglected to wait until they had retreated to the sides.
It was Tribunal Adelina that lifted her head first, dark eyes peering through the stray hairs that had fallen over her face. Her voice was louder than that of the little girl chasing after him, and he heard only the shrieked, annoyed tone of her shouting behind him.
“Children,” Adelina addressed, and the other Tribunals glanced away from their work to stare expectantly at Vito and the girl. “Please, refrain from running. What hurries you, Vito?”
He came to a stop just before her, where she sat with her knees pulled beneath her on the ground. Three bowls sat at her side, two smaller than the third. He had seen them all filled, and with enough luck and willing attendees, he would see them filled to the brim once again. Vito tried to catch his breath, but did not dare try her patience by taking any longer than necessary. He held up the book, and as soon as he did, the girl behind him reached for it again. “She – hey! That's mine!”
Vito swiveled to the side and shoved at the girl’s shoulder. She shrieked, and even the half-deaf Tribunal Heitor frowned at the noise. The book was held away from him and hidden at her side, and he might have tried to take it back from her, if he had not minded the thought of getting any closer to her.
“Vito!”
“She took my book!”
Tribunal Adelina grabbed at her robes and pulled herself from the floor. She approached them with a stern glare, obviously displeased to have been drawn away from her duties. Vito breathed out an irritated huff and stepped away from the other child.
“Give me the book,” said Adelina, extending a hand towards the girl. Reluctantly, the child complied, and the Tribunal turned the item over in her hands before it was held behind her back, beneath her folded hands. She nodded to the girl, dismissing her, and though she threw a glare in Vito’s direction, she turned around and walked back down the aisle.
The boy, however, was not dismissed as soon. Adelina knelt down in front of him to get his full attention, now just about eye-level with the young biqaj, and she inclined her head in the little girl’s direction. “You must learn restraint, my child, for moments like these. Many trying souls walk through those doors, and ever more of them dominate the world outside of our blessed church. We cannot leave them to fumble about in their foolishness, Vito, we must extend them patience–”
She reached for his hand, and Vito made the effort to soften his glare as his tiny fingers rested over hers.
“–if we wish to guide them to the healing light of He Who Bleeds. You understand this, child, do you not?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Because there are terrors far, far worse than little Dina. Now, if you wish for her and her parents to attend the service later, I think there is something that you owe to her.”
"Sorry."
"Yes, child. Tell her. Now go, you are dismissed."
He wanted to disagree and refuse to give her anything. Dina did not deserve an apology for taking his book and for making him upset the Tribunals, but he nodded regardless, and turned from Adelina with a quiet, resigned sigh. Sorry was only a word… it did not have to mean anything. He could not remember ever meaning it before.
Vito found her sitting on the bench they had left behind, lanky arms crossed over her chest, mouth set into a pout. She did not look at him when he sat down, but she gave another little huff when he copied the crossing of her arms. It was harder than he had even expected, to get himself to say it… he swallowed, and glared at the nearest wall. It was only two words; maybe one, if he wanted to extend the bare minimum to the undeserving girl.
“I’m sorry.”
Dina turned her head, expression shifting into something a little more smug. Her arms uncrossed, and she angled towards him on the bench.
“Hmm? Was that you, Vi? What’d you say there?”
Oh, she had heard him. Vito rolled his eyes and turned to meet her stare, colorful irises partially covered with an irritated squint. He already said it once, did he really need to say it again for the sake of her pride? He lifted his chin and repeated himself, and added another word that he had heard from the older kids the trial before.
“I said, I’m sorry your mother’s a whore…”
