06-24-2020, 07:46 PM
The direction of his gaze did not leave Thalia, though it was to the child he spoke. “Rasmus, recite the Nicene Creed.”
The boy was understandably speechless, though the boy-child Philip could perform the creed even younger.
His brows rose, a stern taskmaster, though not harsh. “Father Ando will teach it to you. Go, go.” He smirked quietly to himself as the boy gathered his belongings and dashed to the door. Revane would be irritated to be assigned such a task more fitting someone junior. It would be a good use of his time today.
With the child’s absence, privacy fell like a dove. Philip exhaled a long moment, staring into the tangled branches of beyond larch trees, but the silence was enormously loud. Truth cannot contradict truth, the Church said. The Pope spoke as the voice of the Holy Spirit, and thus what parted his lips was truth. Therefore, he could not contradict himself. Such knowns penetrated every word he said with a heavy burden, though he did not usually worry about breeching his own instinct.
When he spoke again, it was breathless and careful. “You must not do that,” was all he said.
She was not Catholic, and so there was nothing with which he could impose to separate her from a church she did not belong. Yet, for all the wrong it was to be what she was, it was within himself that the schism wrenched deep.
“I depart Tartu tomorrow. Heed my advice, Thalia. On this as before.”
For a moment, the schism was bridged as his gaze fell to her bag, knowing what it contained. The warmth with which he held this girl tickled the back of his mind, and a sort of sad smile briefly ghosted his expression. He presumed to never see her again, although he was certain to encounter another version at some point.
”This will be our farewell. Unless you have something new to share first.” His brows lifted as though the sentence was posed as a question toward which he was willing to seek answers.
The boy was understandably speechless, though the boy-child Philip could perform the creed even younger.
His brows rose, a stern taskmaster, though not harsh. “Father Ando will teach it to you. Go, go.” He smirked quietly to himself as the boy gathered his belongings and dashed to the door. Revane would be irritated to be assigned such a task more fitting someone junior. It would be a good use of his time today.
With the child’s absence, privacy fell like a dove. Philip exhaled a long moment, staring into the tangled branches of beyond larch trees, but the silence was enormously loud. Truth cannot contradict truth, the Church said. The Pope spoke as the voice of the Holy Spirit, and thus what parted his lips was truth. Therefore, he could not contradict himself. Such knowns penetrated every word he said with a heavy burden, though he did not usually worry about breeching his own instinct.
When he spoke again, it was breathless and careful. “You must not do that,” was all he said.
She was not Catholic, and so there was nothing with which he could impose to separate her from a church she did not belong. Yet, for all the wrong it was to be what she was, it was within himself that the schism wrenched deep.
“I depart Tartu tomorrow. Heed my advice, Thalia. On this as before.”
For a moment, the schism was bridged as his gaze fell to her bag, knowing what it contained. The warmth with which he held this girl tickled the back of his mind, and a sort of sad smile briefly ghosted his expression. He presumed to never see her again, although he was certain to encounter another version at some point.
”This will be our farewell. Unless you have something new to share first.” His brows lifted as though the sentence was posed as a question toward which he was willing to seek answers.
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