Angel Tongue

trēdecim

"You aren't reading," Sierra's voice broke Isaac out of his reverie, "are you?"

"You're not either," he shot back, closing the large book with a slam. Today was the day of his Consecration, and he would not have expected being in the library, poring over more and more books to 'further develop his knowledge on the Manus Dei' going into the ceremony. He would have preferred a day wandering outside the sanctuary, or maybe even simply being cooped up in his room (or the room he was staying in), troubling himself over the strange scene the day before but no. He was supposed to be reading about the brave acts of a certain Manus Dei someone-or-the-other but at this point, the words were simply swimming in front of his eyes, doing somersaults, pirouettes, and basically not informing him of anything, however much he tried. Sierra was lounging, her feet on the table, while Pax stood off to the side, randomly pulling old leather-bound books from their place in the shelves to inspect their contents.

"They did not tell me to study up on the history of my own kind," she returned with a smirk. "That's for you to do." She reached over, pulling the book open at the exact page he had had it on before he closed it.

"Anyway, this is enjoyable," Pax called out to them, but only a second's worth of analyzing is tone would make it obvious that like Isaac, would have preferred to be somewhere-anywhere else.

"Did you have to do this?" Isaac questioned. "Before you were consecrated, I mean."

"Of course not," Sierra replied. "We were infants back then. And we've had our entire lives since to learn about..." she took a peek at the book Isaac was staring dumbly at, "Cesare the Large-Nosed. Who is that?"

Isaac groaned, slamming his forehead on the open book. Though history had always been one of his better subjects back at home, he had never experienced being subjected to as much information, some even directly contradicting what he had thought to be true before, as he was now. "You do not even know who he is, why am I expected to?"

Pax let loose a light laugh from one of the bookcases behind Isaac. "He was that man who could engorge his nose, Sierra," he told her. "Was his nose as big as yours is, though?"

This time, it was Isaac's turn to snigger as Sierra raised a sharp eyebrow at Pax. "Are you telling me my nose is large?" She made no move to get out of her position though, keeping herself on the chair and her feet on the table. Instead, she just pointed her index finger at Pax in what Isaac thought would have been the most threatening way possible for her circumstances.

"Hey Sierra," he spoke before he could think about it. His eyes widened as the words came out of his mouth an called attention to him.

"Yes, Isaac?" she asked him.

Isaac meanwhile, was caught up in an internal battle. A question had been bubbling up from inside him, every since that fateful first dinner at the Sanctuary, but he did not think it would be the wisest decision to bring it to mind, especially not so soon after it, or preferably, not at all. He had seen how it affected her, how she had suddenly clammed up when she was called a rogue, how she passed it off as a bout of stomach pain. He was also no stranger to the fact that she did not seem to have anybody in the Sanctuary with whom she shared familial ties, despite her not mentioning this. What had he done?

"Oh, never you mind," he said dismissively, though the rest of his body was struggling to hide his uncertainty. His fingers were fiddling with the corners of the pages and his eyes had suddenly zoned into the words written on the book, which just a while ago he had been so repulsed by. He snuck a glance at her and met her eyes, the azure in them tinged with a darker shade now.

"No, speak now that I am listening," her voice, though light, held a hint, a betraying shade of curiosity.

Isaac shook his head, suddenly overtly aware of Sierra's eyes on him. "What did that old man mean," his voice came out quietly as his inquisitiveness won him over, "when he called you a rogue?"