The Conciege
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(THOB) Chapter 59: Make It Fear
🕑 Added 2023-08-29 23:29:23 +0000 UTCApparit looked more like Ezril’s memory of Dainty. But where Dainty had borne an indifference in its eyes he had seen pain and chaos in Apparit’s. Ezril and his brothers had been required to spend the entirety of the day caring for them, as they had done on their first day in preparation for the test of the mount.
The horses had been obedient as they approached them in their stalls, standing motionless, like the soldiers of the kingdom in the presence of their commanders. Ezril had seen the look of anger and disgust that had clouded Olufemi’s face at the sight of Wild. But Ezril had had it worse. Apparit had whinnied and bucked at the sight of him, threatening to break from its stalls and trample him to death. Only when Father Munidu, the priest now in charge of their horses, had come to his rescue, speaking a language very similar to Vrail, did the horse ease into a serene state. Sadly, Apparit had been the only one to react this way to its rider. The rest had merely remained silent and unmoving.
“You best be careful with this one,” Munidu had told Ezril. “Seems he don’t like you very much.”
Three months with the horse restored whatever trust they’d had before he had left for his spiritual work. However, Ezril often wondered if it was truly the same trust or if Apparit was even the same horse. And sometimes he wondered why he even wondered, because it was still the same horse. It was something he knew each time he looked in its eyes.
“I reckon I told you on your first day,” Father Munudi said to them. “The seminary uses what it calls commandments on its horses. It is something that can work on all the animals trained by the seminary. Though its language is very similar to Vrail, today, I am here to tell you that it is not. It is a commandment.” He patted a massive chestnut on its neck. It was so large it towered over the large man.
“You must command it with your will,” he continued. “If you don’t mean it, the words, I reckon, will be near useless. What I will teach today is how to use one of these here commandments. If you learn this, you can command almost any animal. But animals of the wild will not listen.”
“Why is that?” Takan asked.
“On account of them not being tamed,” Munidu answered. “They listen only to Vayla. But there are animals weaker than humans that I reckon will, even in the wild. Though there may be stories of priests who have done it to wilder beasts, I reckon it best you never risk it.”
What followed was a mentally tasking lesson on the words of the commandment, and what Father Munidu termed the enactment. In this, they would stand in front of caged dogs, wild with rage and frothing at the mouth, attempting to silence them with nothing but the look in their eyes.
“Best to make it fear you,” Munidu told them. “Let it feel your strength and think you are worse than it.”
Father Zakarid had taught them of it during the day of the wild since their return. A method of surviving where they would unmask their emotions, baring it in a manner Ezril couldn’t understand as a weapon against their foes.
“All of Vayla’s children are capable of it,” Zakarid had told them. “But the Hallowed hold it stronger than others.”
Olufemi, to nobody’s surprise, mastered it first. He reduced his dog to a whimper by their third day with Munidu while the rest of them continued on with their struggle, Takan often making faces at his beast, perhaps in the hope that if it couldn’t sense his power it would read it on his face. Suffice to say, it didn’t work.
“How did you do it?” Takan asked Olufemi as they prepared for the night. “The mutt they gave me is too dumb to understand anything.”
“They are not dumb,” Salem corrected. “They’re wild.”
Takan grunted. “Dumb, wild. What’s the difference?”
Olufemi left Takan to sit beside Ezril on his bed where he engaged Salem in a game of war on a small table between their beds, stolen on their first night in the room, and, so far, either the priests were yet to see it from where they hid it under Salem’s bed when not in use or they simply ignored it.
In their previous quarters Olufemi had slept beside Divine’s empty bed while Ezril slept beside Darvi. However, their new room was smaller, and their arrangement more decisive. Ezril was flanked on both sides by Olufemi and Salem, while Darvi was nearest to the entrance, and Takan slept at the end of the room on the bed beside Salem’s.
“You have to learn to talk to others, brother,” Takan addressed Olufemi. “I reckon Ezril will not always be around.”
Olufemi ignored him and focused on Ezril and Salem’s game.
“You know he’s right, brother,” Ezril said, not bothering to take his eyes off the game.
“How did you even survive your spiritual work?” Darvi asked from his bed. “You had to have communicated with them in some way.”
Olufemi frowned but said nothing.
“I don’t think he really had to,” Ezril said, then grinned as he claimed one of Salem’s pieces. “In my parish I didn’t have to talk with them much. Although, the sister always had something to say.”
“That reminds me,” Takan said enthusiastically. “I heard one of our brothers spent a night with a sister of the convent during the winter test.”
Salem gave a short derisory laugh. “He must have been among those shown the gate.”
“But the sister wasn’t,” Takan said.
Darvi’s attention turned to him. “And how do you know that?”
Takan shrugged. “The sister that told me wouldn’t lie to me.”
Ezril looked at Takan. “Have you grown soft, brother? Taken a liking to a gown somewhere?” He smirked. “Or perhaps a habit.”
“The Tainted take you,” Takan spat. “What I’m just saying is a bit of privacy with a sister alone on a cold night?” he wiggled his brow. “That, I reckon, is as good a chance as any for a good shagging.”
Ezril grimaced.
Takan laughed. “Come now, brother. You’ve lived within these walls too long to be disturbed by such words.”
“He’s right,” Darvi added. “You need to look passed it. Now say it with me: shag, shag, shaggerson, shagfarg, shagashowl.”
Ezril sighed and shook his head. From Takan, it was to be expected. From Darvi… he didn’t even know where to begin in his reaction.
Takan rose from his bed, coming to stand next to Ezril’s bed. “You forgot something important, brother,” he told Darvi.
Darvi thought a while then shook his head. “No. I don’t believe I did.”
Takan grinned. “You forgot,” he leaned into Ezril, “shagasheep.”
Ezril claimed Salem’s touched and satisfied himself in the frown that marred his brother’s lips. “You know, brothers,” he said, looking up from the game to regard them, Takan to be specific, “your mastery of the Alduin tongue is quite astonishing.”
Takan rose and offered him a mock bow. “I aim to please, brother.”
“No,” Ezril replied, then shook his head. “No, you do not.”
Salem looked at Takan, suddenly appalled. “What was the name of the sister you served alongside?” he asked.
“There were two actually,” Takan replied, grinning.
Salem shook his head, realizing some error in his way. “Forget I said anything.”
Takan and Darvi shared a laugh.
Ezril could only imagine what their spiritual service was like. They had been freer when they returned, and three months of the seminary had done nothing to shackle them back to the melancholy they had once had.
“I heard you arrested a Tainted, brother,” Olufemi told Ezril still employing the use of Vrail.
The Monsignor had invited Ezril to his chambers and offered an appreciation for his service to Truth. It was an appreciation Ezril found he didn’t like.
Ezril shook his head. “I didn’t,” he replied in vrail. “It was the King’s guard and Father Kazaril. I was merely present.”
Olufemi nodded in contemplation. “Did she use her powers?”
He seemed more curious in the single question than he’d been in anything else Ezril had seen him pay any attention.
“Yes.” Ezril frowned. The memory of Jazabil often left him irritable. He also found it disturbing not to find her in the darkness of his dreams. It had been the one solace he’d taken, that her presence would serve as a form of punishment for his part shared in what had been done to her.
“What was it like?”
“Horrible,” he replied. “And I would very much like to not speak of this now, brother. Perhaps another time.”
On the board, Salem engaged him in a quick exchange of moves, consequently claiming both his touched and bishop before finally closing in on one of his towers, leaving Ezril to ponder on the possibility of if the brother wanted his tower, or if it was a diversion to make a play at his arch bishop.
“How was the church?” Olufemi continued as if their previous topic had remained unspoken. “Was the parish priest nice to you?”
Ezril thought, moving his arch bishop to safety at the expense of his tower, soliciting a smile from Salem. “I cannot say,” he answered. “We did not speak much with each other.”
“I see.” Olufemi returned to his bed, his mood a bit sour. Ezril could only imagine what the brother’s spiritual service must have been like.
Ezril ended the game with a loss. As Salem gathered the pieces, Ezril laid on his bed. The game had left him knackered and, as usual, irritated.
“How long do you think it will be before they give us an outing again?” Salem asked.
They had not been allowed their occasional outing since their return to the seminary, and though the others missed the freedom, Ezril knew Salem missed something more specific.
“Do you miss Farla already, brother?” he asked.
Salem made an incomprehensible sound.
Ezril turned, finding his friend’s ears had turned a beet red and a flush creeping into his cheeks. He laughed. “I see you do.”
“I do not,” Salem sputtered.
Ezril smiled, making himself comfortable on his bed. “Blow out the light,” he told Salem. “The seminary may not support it, brother, but you have my blessing,” he continued, grinning as Salem blew out the light of the candle and plunged the room in darkness. “Maybe I can help sneak her passed the Mother of whatever parish you end up in, don’t you agree?”
The room plunged into darkness. Salem returned to his bed and laid down.
“Ezril,” he said.
“Yes, brother.”
“Shut up.”
They slept soundly. The night was their friend, and Ezril’s dream was his to command.
