The Veiled One

Chapter Thirteen: I no longer want to punch the priest

The priest leads me inside, and instead of taking me into the main temple area, he leads me down a narrow hallway and into his personal quarters.

There are a few apprentices milling around the room, which contains a stove and a sink, as well as a few bookcases, a small bed, and a table with four wooden chairs. The priest gestures to one of his apprentices, the same sour-faced one who opened the door for me when I came to the temple a year ago to ask for the chance to become Sibyl's groom. He's gotten taller, but even more narrow-faced, if that's possible.

"Make us some tea," the priest commands. The boy shoots a glare my way, and when the priest isn't looking, I flip him off. I catch another one of the apprentices re-shelving some books sniggering, and another one trying to suppress a grin behind his hand.

After the apprentice goes off to make us some tea, the priest and I settle at the table. He keeps his hood firmly drawn, but I can sense a sad smile making his way across his face.

"What brings you here to me, Sylas?" he asks, crossing his arms across his table. I fidget with a loose seam in my shirt. It doesn't fit as well now that I've filled out considerably.

"Well... I'd prefer our talk was private, actually."

The priest nods knowingly, as if he'd suspected this. He waves his hands and the boys all disappear, except for the one making us some tea. Once he's gotten it brewed, he sets the service on the table and leaves without a word. I'd bet anything his voice is just as nasally as it was before.

The priest takes a long sip of his tea before he asks his first question.

"How are you doing without Endor?"

I feel the question bring a lump to my throat. I swallow hard to clear it before attempting to speak.

"I miss him every day," I confess. "And... I suppose I deserve it."

"Why would you deserve it?"

"Because I left him for a year. He forgot me. Leaving hurts me far more than it could hurt him."

The priest shakes his head and pushes a cup of tea towards me. I force myself to drink some, the warm cinnamon flavor pouring down my throat as I do.

"That's not true, Sylas. None of it is. Endor was here sometimes three times a week praying for you. He said that he had a feeling that you would come back safely. Sylas, your brother has a gift. He would have these instincts, he told me, instincts that later turned out to be true. But he was willing to give all of that up and let that talent go to waste because he wanted to know what you thought."

"I don't understand," I say, my fingers gripping the warm ceramic of the mug harder. "He didn't seem to have any qualms about leaving."

"That's because he spent weeks agonizing over this decision. He knows what his true calling is, but he loves you more than he loves his gift. You don't know how hard he prayed for an answer to this question."

"I didn't come here to talk about Endor," I snap, because this conversation is bordering on the kind I would have with Sibyl, and not the kind I want to have here, in this temple, with a priest who worships the gods I'm angrier at than ever. Instead, I decide to change the subject.

"Why have you come to me?"

"Where would you go if you wanted to break a curse?"

The priest tips his head thoughtfully, as if considering why I would want this information.

"It's the Veiled One, isn't it?" he asks me, arching an eyebrow. "You want to set her free?"

"I..." It's pointless to deny it, and after hearing people denounce Sibyl for so long, I want to tell at least one person the truth.