The TwiceBorn

Empty Mouths Full of Prayer

"And for every hell he ever saw, he made himself become the hope, that tugged the rope
that rang the bell In the steeple of the people's hearts."--Andrea Gibson

She watched, silent, as he approached and stood in front of her, throwing the cowl of his robe back so she could see him more clearly. He gave her a warm smile and her first, tentative thought was, "Everything is going to be okay."

And why shouldn't it? None of the Sentinels...or Brede...had lost faith in her. She had lost faith in them.

Maybe this man could bring her back around to what she had always known.

Lord Kenric was a handsome man, with ruddy chiseled features. His face was a paradox, appearing as though he'd be at home either behind a pair of plowshares or strumming a lute in the nearest tavern. An odd mixture of ruggedness and fragility. 

His blue eyes were startling against the backdrop of his dark hair and Islinn noticed the faintest shadow of a beard on his cheerful face. As she watched him, he grinned and his eyes shone with the high glee of a man who was enjoying the present moment immensely. She gave him a hesitant smile back and something in her stomach loosened a bit and she was able to stand up straighter.

"Islinn!" He exclaimed as he stepped in front of her, his smile widening. "I have heard tales of you and what you can do. Brother JoHan told me of Westerfox and you're...unfortunate...encounter on the road."

Before she could speak, he turned his head to Gerold.

"Brother Gerold, get her a chair, she's injured!"

There was an urgency to his voice, friendly yet touched with concern. Gerold quickly fetched a straight-back chair from the sanctuary. Islinn tried to ignore the carvings on the arms and legs as she gingerly took a seat. Her nose was still dripping blood and she felt a vague sense of panic that some might drip onto the etched woodwork.

"The brothers here do the carvings. It is a part of their worship and prayer." The man explained as he walked over and pointed down at one of the chair legs. Islinn nodded and quickly wiped her still leaking nose.

"See?" The man said. "This carving here...it is when my children went and drove out the devils that had afflicted the good folk of Hadleigh Cove. The townspeople were sick and dying...my children saved them. And here..."

His pointing finger moved over to one of the arms of the chair.

"...this is when my children cleansed Alynwick and saved them from a horde of evil scourge. Brede's light shone brightly that day on us all."

Islinn nodded and ran her finger lightly over the carving. It was beautiful work.

But what purpose did it serve?

None, really. She seriously doubted that the townspeople crowded in here and admired all the carvings and had it explained to them in such a patient manner. She watched Lord Kenric walk casually over to the alter and rest his hand against the carving of the Guardians against The Twiceborn.