Fate weaver’s convergence

Of all faces, his. Lucas’s.

I sneered as I forced down the last of the cold coffee I’d managed to shelter within a wooden cup. I needed to wake up, and while I was sure I’d gotten a full night's sleep, I didn’t feel as if I benefitted. 

“You understand that sugar, and even milk, would do miracles to prevent you from nearly gagging on your drink, aye?”

Michal spoke, smirking from the stone bench he sat atop, his fingers interwoven as he waited. We were in front of Brenton's temple of Solah as I finished the coffee, chasing my breakfast with it. 

“Smart ass.”

I smiled, hooking the cup on my belt and tapping his shoulder with my opposite hand. I was in better spirits with Michal today, being as he apparently saw fit to shower me with quips and surprisingly hearty talk of anything but the events in Krakow. It was a distraction, one I think he knew very well that he was providing, one that kept my mind whole as it was before I fucked myself up. He was putting forth a genuine effort, as he did with the trip home, but this time, he was over the insufferable prodding with the aforementioned secret.

“I try. That seems the best way to appeal to you, though. I cannot help you if I simply grate at your nerves.”

He stood, walking alongside me as we entered.

True enough. Speaking of which, I’ve barely placed the effort forward myself. 

“So.”

I prodded.

“About how you came to Krakow, you said your father moved from Va’ren when you were a child, right?”

Michal smiled. 

“Once upon a time, I do not remember when exactly, but I can assure you, it was not under the same duress as yourself.”

Michal clenched his jowls before continuing, treating the subject with care.

I’ll allow that one, what other difference in context could he give?

I waved off his expression with a genuine smirk of humor.

“As I was, I was small, a toddler. By Damussian standards, much too young to travel such a distance.”

He continued, slowly pacing along as his eyes were drawn to the hall's statues, and humoring him, I maintained his pace.

“My father and mother were glass makers in Va’ren, not so humble as it may sound, I assure you.”

Michal smirked, leaning towards me as he lowered his tone. 

“My father's a bit more of the ‘explorative’ type in that he couldn’t simmer the hell down in one spot for a while. Snatched my mother and I up as we were settling down in Karkad when he had a brilliant epiphany.”

“And that was?”

 An exasperated sigh escaped him.

“He wanted to appeal to the nobles of Krakow, at first, presenting works of art that he deemed ‘lost’ on the clans. Va’ren emphasizes the works of steel, more than glass, or wood.”

He smiled softly.

“Whether that’s true or not, you’d probably know better, but that doesnt matter.”

He sighed, as if the memories of being dragged about were fond ones.

“He built himself off of his work, but that was only tolerable for so long as we performed repeated loops around the country. I’ve seen the passes a dozen times or more between Francia and Brenton.”

He chuckled as we entered the main room where I’d first met Aethelwulf, the painting above us just as grand as the first time I’d seen it a month earlier, drawing Michal’s eyes. 

“And, from there?”

I found myself listening, Michal drawing to more of a merchant’s background than I’d read off of him at a glance. 

“Travel between the cities, learning to sell our wares, drawing about customers in the time we managed to prepare the furnaces. It was fun, learning the draw of coin, at first. Even reached the point I was riding ahead, setting our orders… You were about to ask how in the hells I came to be a priest, weren’t you?”

In truth, I was half present, but I did find myself sticking alongside him.

 If the business was profitable, why pull away?

“Well?”

Smiling as I asked the question, in hindsight, felt rude as he seemed to show an expression of pained nostalgia.

“Father branched out his work, to my, and mothers dismay.”

Should I press him? Would it be fair?

“Michal.”

I looked away as I guided him to the study where I’d sit with Aethelwulf during our chats. I couldn’t see his face, but that was my unspoken attempt to show I was giving him his out.

“Before you continue, I don’t expect you to recount the ghosts that haunt you.”

God knows I’ve invoked the same respect for my own troubles, having still denied Vaughn and Beryl the rest of the truth I’d already promised them. I still don’t know how long they’ll allow me to entertain their patience… Just a little longer, you two, please…

I found myself placing my fingers together as I splayed them.

“Think hard, if this is something you truly want to entrust. I wouldn’t give you the same benefit, as I’ve made well known, even though it may seem a betrayal of your trust… When I put it that way, it seems a betrayal of exactly what you offered when you joined us. You gave up your safety, your stability, your home, all on a whim to help… Sorry, I—”

I struggled not to frown, instead forcing a placid expression.

You are a piece of work, Kiyomi. Aren’t you?… I made the mistake again, the distinction is still gone… Was there ever— I can- I can think of this later.

“I doubt you really understand your own sense of kindness, do you?”

What?

When I looked to Michal, standing next to me, he seemed to sport a brotherly sense of thankfulness for something. His thumbs were in his belt, and his hood down, while he looked over to me. 

“Kiyomi, you could have lied about your past, but you didn’t.”

I shook my head.

“I very well could be now, how can you just— how can you outright trust me like that?”

It was something that was confusing for me, coupled with his insistence to join us. He had absolutely nothing to gain from placing himself at our full scrutiny, but he seemed to do it out of genuine sincerity.

“Because. I can see your current battle with your own secrets, with how you spoke with Vaughn and Beryl as you told me. After even a week? It’s clear that you three do not hold back much information between each other. What each of you do keep to yourselves is inconsequential to your friendship and love for one another.”

Not this again—

I’d nearly made an attempt to protest before Michal broke out into laughter.

“Kiyomi, I mean in the sense of true care, you wear your heart on your sleeve to the point I doubt any person in your life could not tell of your state of mind at a glance. I generally feel that, unless your life depended on such, you could never do something hurtful that was never deserved, or at the least, instigated.”

My whole life is a lie, Michal, you can’t tell shit! You’re a poor judge of character!

I was puffing out my cheeks at this point, scowling at Michal as he had to control his petering giggle fit.

“Sorry, sorry, I mean it, you judge yourself too harshly.”

His giggling subsiding and gave way to a heavy sigh.

“Slaves, my father became involved in selling slaves.”

I had to double-take Michal as he spoke, the show of nostalgia giving way to pain.

“My mother immediately divorced my father. She broke it off in Lyon… We still write to each other. I stayed with my father for some time after that, but halfway back around to Brenton, we were ambushed by bandits.”

I believe I can see where this is going now.

Michal looked over as we seemed to halt ourselves en route, and I gave full attention to his story while he stared into the stone walls.

“I was already planning to leave in Brenton, I was only so conflicted on the fact that I was still your age, and I loved my father. Even when in mine own eyes he fell to human evil.”

His jaw clenched, then relaxed. 

“ Aethelwulf knows this is the truth, because he bore witness to it, as he offered prayer and solace to the slaves out of pity, and to my fathers dismay.”

Michal looked to the floor, then back up, as he was trying to prepare himself.

“Michael, in honesty, you don’t have to dredge painful memories-“

“Kiyomi, I have to, because I know you’ve yet to trust me. Your life, and the life of your loved ones, will be in my hands with this work now, and to tell the truth, I bare little confidence for my bravery.”

He looked at me through the sides of his eyes, then closed them as he recounted the events.

“We were attacked, and nearly every single person within the caravan was wounded. My father was— my father was not so lucky, a saw him where he lay and could not think of anything else to rightly do. I had no sorrow, even when I held love for him in my heart. Would you have felt any different? In that moment?”

I shook my head, as if he could even see the gesture, before my eyes turned to the floor as his had earlier. I whispered my response.

“I suppose nor would I have cared. Not with slavers.”

Michal breathed sharply. 

“In that moment, my father passed, and so did my understanding of life. He was wrong, no? I felt no sorrow, but yet, the path later before me was gone.”

Michal looked to me. 

“I bear the pain of my father’s murder, and my past as a slaver, regardless of adolescent ignorance, to you, as a show of trust the same as your royalty.”

Michal.

I looked away.

“And how you came to Krakow? To become a priest?”

He smiled softly, avoiding my eyes.

“When I saw my fathers corpse, I saw no recourse other than death for the things I watched him do in the months after my mother left… I struggled with every fiber of my being to resist the feelings of resentment. Yet, I failed in the end. Aethelwulf came to me as I buried my father in a shallow grave.”

Michal continued, even, and now looking to the door to Aethelwulf’s study as the door opened to reveal the old goat.

“That is where you, yourself, spoke of the need to offer even the outlaw a prayer of solace, isnt it, Seer?”

Aethelwulf, looked between us with an even brow before raising his head, then lowering it evenly.

“When judged before the gods, one cannot say with their life’s deeds on grand display, and say they did as they law simply allowed. The morals of our hearts and minds do not work in such ways. It is good to see you again, Kiyomi, and a welcome surprise to see you, Michal.”

Aethelwulf welcomed us in, standing aside with a raised hand.

“I can’t help but wonder what brings you here, but at the contemplation of such memories? I doubt it is a light weighted reason. Please, come in, I am curious of how you both are.”

We entered, and Aethelwulf seemed to already have a small fire burning within a hand held pot to facilitate the boiling of fresh tea. 

“Would you mind a moment? I was not expecting Michal, so I must go to fetch another cup.”

We each nodded, and I found myself speaking out of turn for my own mind.

“Am I really so trustworthy?”