RFC-Mini Arc: The Temple-Part 06 (Patreon)

Everyone is unnaturally silent. I can’t hear a thing as they move, not even the rustle of clothes sliding over their bodies. Their footfalls as they move between the tents are softer than whispers. No one talks, though there seem to be many conversations happening from their changing expressions.

The chicken doesn’t even cluck!

The loudest thing in the camp is the crackling of the fires under cooking pots and racks of meats. I wonder briefly if the camp is under some strange spell but I discard it after a few moments of observation. I can tell from their movements, this is deliberate. They are controlling every twitch of muscle and breath of air to make as little noise as possible. They’re not concentrating either, their expressions free of tension. It seems…natural.

Thoroughly creeped out, I throw away the idea of sampling any food and head for the Ring. I look around but the fence posts don’t appear damaged. Where’s my work? Ah, well, guess I’ll just relax then. Won’t hear any complaints to me.

I settle at the base of a fence post, depositing Bell in my lap. I’m amusing myself playing with the cute imp when a shadow falls over me.

I glance up to see a pair of hairy legs and a brown skirt. Two things that have no right going together.

Swallowing my immediate disgust, I push to my feet. The legs are attached to a man. He wears the sleeveless black shirt of so many others in this place, though his forearms are covered by thick leather gauntlets. And that skirt.

Saints, why? WHY? It’s not quite like any other I’ve seen, stopping before his knees and made from a coarse looking brown fabric that does nothing for his appearance. Which makes it all the more horrible. And the rest of him is just as hairy as his legs, though his goatee is well groomed and his hair is tied back.

Behind him is a much more pleasing sight.

I glance over his shoulder, desperate to cleanse my eyes, and spot her.

As I’ve mostly associated with the nobility of Summer Spire, it’s rare to see someone with my darker coloring. She also has rare curly hair, something I can only judge from a few loose strands over her brow as the rest is tied into one long braid that goes past her shoulders.

She’s dressed in the same horrendous outfit as the man but it, well. It doesn’t seem as horrendous on her. Probably has something to do with her smooth legs.

They both sport the back rings of breakers, along with half-hidden tattoos over their chests. It’s especially noticeable on her as the swell her moderate chest draws my attention to the dark ink. Really, the ink.

“Well met.”

I’m jolted out of my staring by the man’s deep voice, head jerking up to meet his eyes. “Hey, um. I was told you’d need a hand with some fences?” I give the immaculate Ring a questioning look before shrugging.

“Yes, once the communion begins. Did anyone explain what will be happening?”

“No.”

“I see. They often don’t, as most will rescind their offer to volunteer.”

As if. I don’t have a choice.

“Cloud. This is your communion. Perhaps you should explain.”

“Understood, senior.”

He steps aside and the girl steps forward. She touches the black ring around her throat before extending her hand. “I am Cloudy Blood Moon, but most find it suits to call me Cloud. Beside me is my senior, Grouchy Bear. Well met.”

“Lourianne Tome.” I boldly, and not at all weirdly, caress her palm as we shake. It’s not at all what I’m expecting.

Women’s hands are soft and warm. Sometimes delicate, with little dainty fingers, sometimes elegant with their nimble movements. Occasionally a bit wet with nervousness, which is uncomfortable but endearing. Burning hot when I’ve gone too far with a drunken advance and I feel that palm on my cheek.

I’ve never felt a woman’s hand that is this rough. It feels more like I’m shaking hands with a tree. This is a laborer’s hand, callouses and all.

Different…but not bad.

“Coo!” [If the face is good, anything else is fine, hm, Master Lou?]

Shush. You make me sound shallow.

“That’s Bell,” I introduce when Cloud looks up. Bell drops to the ground before standing up, her clasped hands going under her chin as she widens all four of her eyes to an unnatural degree.

Of course, Cloud is charmed, reaching down a hand. Her full lips turn up at the corners when Bell grabs the hand with both of her own, shaking with her whole body. I have to shut my eyes. Too cute for words. Where do these powerful creatures learn how to tug on people’s hearts so effectively?

“I’ve never heard of such a strange creature.”

I open my eyes to find Cloud holding Bell to her chest, the imp making herself comfortable. Lucky devil.

“You wouldn’t unless you’ve talked to a summoner. She isn’t from this realm.”

“A creature from another realm. Hoh…” She holds Bell up, studying her with inquisitive eyes. “Ambitious, but I am preoccupied with the creature of this land.”

She extends the imp to me and I take her quickly, shooting the sneaky succubus a look. “About my work…”

“Yes. In a few moments, I will engage in communion with one of our brothers of the earth.” She gestures to the grass circle. “I will enter the Ring with my brother and neither shall leave until we reach consensus or one perishes. I will do my best to contain him but the fences will inevitably be damaged. During the lulls in our communion, you will repair them. Extra posts and nails will be delivered soon.”

“Ah ha.” Several things in that explanation I don’t understand but I have the gist of it. My work comes later. One worrying thing. “Until one of you perishes?”

She smiles softly. “It will not be me.”

That’s good, I guess. “What should I do in the meantime?”

“For now, we can talk.” She steps forward, beckoning me to follow as she leans against the fence. “Tell me. What brings you to the Temple?”

“Wasn’t my choice, if I’m being honest. Sorry, but is this place actually called the Temple? No offense but…” I gesture at the camp and its lack of buildings.

“The Temple exists where the faithful gather. I’m sure there is more to your story.”

“Well, since you asked.”

I launch into the full tale of my misadventures with Prince Samuel. She listens, her soft smile unchanging, gaze never moving away from me. It’s unnerving but also flattering. Rarely does someone give you the whole of their focus but right now, I am the only thing she sees. A strange feeling wells in my chest. Strange, but not unpleasant.

“And that brings me here.”

“You live an exciting life, Lourianne.”

“Lou, please. Exciting is one word for it. I’d personally prefer a peaceful life. Something I feel you can relate to.” I gesture to the camp.

She chuckles. “The Temple is anything but peaceful. The calm is one of our tenets. Move as the beasts. Predators do not make noise and muffle their movements. We practice the same.”

I don’t have much experience with religious types. The worship of the saints is pretty informal. The scriptures are simply stories of heroes and do-gooders doing heroic and good things.

This Temple sounds far more formal, it’s ways influencing lives. My father warned me off those. He says too much faith can cloud the rational mind. That was the problem with the worship of the old gods, or powerful elementals as many believe them to be. Inexperienced summoners were so awed by their power, they forgot their good sense.

“Our chat comes to an end.”