As soon as all the apprentices had gathered in the Basilica, they were led to elevated platforms where they were to be seated. It enabled them a clear view of the podium below, after which the great big doors were closed and locked by two helpers.
Some of the first year apprentices who had noticed it grew apprehensive, what if this was a sudden free for all like the one in the Dueling and Armed Combat class?
However, their concentration was soon drawn to the lifted podium where a tray containing shiny medical instruments was placed on top of a wooden table.
Next to it was an empty stationary gurney.
Imogen climbed up the stage, looking immaculate as always, to address the trainees.
“Apprentices,” she began, her voice echoing across the hall easily. “You must be confused, wondering why you are here, and perhaps some of you are eager to return to your rooms. With your cooperation, we can get this over with quickly.”
She raised her hand and moved two fingers forward.
Two instructors, Neil and the Fiendish Studies teacher, Maya, pulled a minimally injured man forward, who was kicking and swearing wildly, a feral look in his eyes.
If there had been any noise in the hall, now there was none. It was so quiet you could hear your neighbour breathing.
“This,” Imogen pointed to the man, “for those of you who do not know, is Raphe Oar, a first year Slayer from the minor Mid-West hamlets. As we told you all in our induction ceremony, this church does not tolerate cowards who desert their chosen churches and we gave allowance for those who wanted to leave our church to do so on the first day.”
Imogen turned to Raphe, her eyes narrowed. “Apparently Oar-son did not understand the implications of our words and tried to abscond last night.”
She looked back to the mass of apprentices before her. “As per the rules of this church, Oar-son will be executed right here and now, before you all.”
A collective gasp went throughout the hall and immediately murmuring filled the Basilica.
“W-what? Can they do that?”
“Oh my gods, I can’t believe this…”
“A deserter? What was he thinking?”
“In front of us? I’ve never seen an execution before.”
Imogen clapped her hands loudly and raised her voice. “Silence! However I will give Oar-son a chance to explain himself, though I doubt it will help his circumstances.”
She might have sounded cruel but deserters were a detested group, seen as people who had willingly become No Blessed, and who had chosen to associate themselves with a name given to monsters and the few humans born powerless.
Neil and Maya released Raphe’s arms and pushed him forward roughly.
Although the Slayer stumbled and fell with a grunt of pain, he did not arouse any sympathy from any of the Blessed around him.
Such was the hatred for runaways.
The instructors and Prelate felt insulted, his actions seen as belittling the August Church.
“Speak Oar-son,” Imogen said harshly. “Tell us what informed your decision to desert this respectable church.”
Raphe coughed, wiping the blood he had spit out crudely with his sleeve. “Why do you say respectable? Do you call this a church? Do you call this a training school?”
YOU ARE READING
No Blessed ✓
Fantasy- Completed - For Mikel Ark, being offered a job by the world's biggest gaming company is a dream come true, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that will launch his career as a hotshot programmer. But what Mikel hasn't been told is that his employer's...
