Rituals, Regrets, and Really Dumb People

Chapter 5: Badly Done Children's Art, Part 2

I walked to the temple, along the empty streets, staring up at the building face jutting from out of those ancient, central mountains. I climbed the stairs, walked right into the building, carrying little shame to intrude. There, I was greeted by one of the Penitent. He seemed rather shocked, but he shouldn't have been; their priestess cursed me. They should have expected me to come back.

"Sanguine," the warrior-monk shouted at me from down the hall. "How dare you return to this holy ground. You—"

I threw my hand out and shot a gout of blood at him. It hit his face, hardened over his mouth like a gag. I walked on by, refusing to hear his faux indignation anymore. He was not of concern to me, the kid was. I kicked the doors wide open and I stepped on inside.

"I am here for the Seal," I proclaimed to the group of ten monks. They were about balanced in terms of men and women, all wearing a mix of robes and sashes and cowls and boots. All carried truncheons for self-defense. "Where is she?!"

"Oh no, he's back," uttered one. He lifted a vial to his nose and huffed it, slowly stumbling around. "You'll never—take me—"

He passed out.

While one lost his nerve and drugged himself, the rest raised their clubs and moved to spread over the whole of the floor. Even the muted one joined in with the mob. They did not want me to get past them, to get to the Seal. I squeezed my fingers into my palms, and I looked around at them; their faces were dirty, they were tired from trying to repair their monastery-fort. They had not expected me back so soon, especially not in the middle of the night. Well ain't that just a tough titty.

"I said—"

"We heard you," proclaimed one of the men, a vampire. He held his club much like one would hold a bat, keeping it close to his shoulder as he advanced. "You cannot have the Seal; we will not allow it. We've had to bury our brothers and sisters because of you, monster."

"I have been hearing that a lot lately." My life was nothing if not redundant.

"You'll pay for what you've done, you'll—"

There was an interruption to his heroic spiel. Someone was pushing through the crowd, someone small but held a lot of authority over the Penitent. It was the kid, all too happy to see me and running over to hug me around my waist. I looked down at her and my expressions began to soften. It was hard to act like a bad ass around her; I thought I could be more steadfast, but I could not. I reached down and I slowly petted her head with my left hand.

"Heya kid," I said to her. This, also, surprised the Penitent.

"Little miss," the jabbering vampire from earlier said, "please, back away from him."

"Silly," she called the warrior-monk, turning to face him. "This is my friend."

"It's Sanguine, little miss."

"No, he's not. This is Math-house."

"Math—house? Mathias you mean."

"That's what I said," she said before turning back to me. "Did you come back to draw with me?"

"Um—not exactly," I said. "Kid, I have some questions to ask you."

"Mathias?" beckoned another voice. I looked up to find Mr. Thimble standing in between the now confused warrior-monks. "You've returned."

"I'm glad to see that you and the kid made it out alright," I told him. "I came because I have questions for the kid. Also, why didn't you move her?"

"Well," he started, "no where else to go, really. Sanguine attacks Sanctuary all the time, and no one else will have us."

"But this is Sanguine," exclaimed the warrior-monk, pointing his club at me. "He's right here, with the Seal!"