08-05-2023, 05:37 PM
Zeke descended the steps slowly. His gaze followed Raffe a moment, watching as he was pulled along by a child, but if any thoughts passed he did not share them. He was in a mood for flattery, and Nox’s smile and words were accepted genially. Now there was a troubled soul. The warmth of his gaze fluttered an appraisal for the penitent. He had plenty of time for it.
“It is probably not the wisest venture to make alterations to a man’s home before you have even introduced yourself,” he said. But there was no sting in the way he said it, just amusement. He was aware of the stares. He knew what the people here said, and would say, to discover this man in their midst. He knew what they feared too. Zeke had gently stoked it after all, making monsters from shadows, strengthening the tight-knit of their community via their common fears. Where there were monsters there were also heroes after all, and Zeke claimed bountiful worship at that altar.
“Still, it is no hardship to have done things a little backwards,” he added, accepting the handshake. That moment of acceptance, too, would spread. Ezekiel’s favour was no small thing there, and it would churn the waters of gossip. Not that he would be welcomed wholeheartedly. If anything he might find more of them stared. Nox seemed just a little on the edge of desperation; it clung to him like smoke, and the scent was a beguiling lure. Redemption was a story Zeke could twist to his purposes. “Call me Ezekiel. Your friend Cruz was disappointed with what he found here, that’s all. There was no harm done.” He turned and beckoned, heading back up the steps to the main doors of the church.
“Let’s go find out. You paid upfront, after all.” His lips lifted in a small smile. If Nox wanted easy answers he was out of luck; he would need to confront the uncomfortable, and meet the people he had displaced. Good intention or no, there were always consequences. And it was always the people in the shadowy margins who suffered. “We rarely seek trouble for ourselves. Yet you do seem troubled, Nox.”
“It is probably not the wisest venture to make alterations to a man’s home before you have even introduced yourself,” he said. But there was no sting in the way he said it, just amusement. He was aware of the stares. He knew what the people here said, and would say, to discover this man in their midst. He knew what they feared too. Zeke had gently stoked it after all, making monsters from shadows, strengthening the tight-knit of their community via their common fears. Where there were monsters there were also heroes after all, and Zeke claimed bountiful worship at that altar.
“Still, it is no hardship to have done things a little backwards,” he added, accepting the handshake. That moment of acceptance, too, would spread. Ezekiel’s favour was no small thing there, and it would churn the waters of gossip. Not that he would be welcomed wholeheartedly. If anything he might find more of them stared. Nox seemed just a little on the edge of desperation; it clung to him like smoke, and the scent was a beguiling lure. Redemption was a story Zeke could twist to his purposes. “Call me Ezekiel. Your friend Cruz was disappointed with what he found here, that’s all. There was no harm done.” He turned and beckoned, heading back up the steps to the main doors of the church.
“Let’s go find out. You paid upfront, after all.” His lips lifted in a small smile. If Nox wanted easy answers he was out of luck; he would need to confront the uncomfortable, and meet the people he had displaced. Good intention or no, there were always consequences. And it was always the people in the shadowy margins who suffered. “We rarely seek trouble for ourselves. Yet you do seem troubled, Nox.”
![[Image: zekesig2-1.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/zekesig2-1.jpg)