093 Chapel Days · Scene 11


Chapel Days

Chapel Days · Scene 11 · Tea a
The Chapel ~ Exterior ~ Upper Floor Cafes
Early Autumn ~ Early Afternoon, Approaching clouds and strong breezes
Quaint though unfrequented
Small exterior dining spaces welcoming for the weary
Overlooking the Chapel’s gardens and the view of the day
They were a place of sanctuary
More often for visitors than the nuns
R



ustling tree leaves celebrated the passing breeze and the arrival of Chain to the cafes hidden behind the upper floors of the Chapel. As she dropped out of a tree and onto the cobbled patios of the cafes, she was joined by Drop who swam down out of the tree. Unlike the brightly smiling Chain who placed her hands on her hips, her tiny mermaid double wore an expression of worry and had a question on her lips.

“Should we really leave him to keep shouting? I doubt it is good at all for the nuns.”

“Heh heh… probably not, but I don’t want to be yelled at by Squawk while he has so much strength though.”

“It is true that it would likely be safer to face him after he has worn himself out…”

Tilting her head, Drop pressed a finger to her chin as she contemplated the effects of Squawks yelling on her and Chain. Much as they did not desire to find out the full brunt of that force, there was the wellbeing of the nuns and that which relied on them to consider as well. Lowering her finger and straightening out her head, Drop presented that problem to her larger counterpart.

“If we leave him to wear himself out though we have no guarantee that this rolling building will persist.”

“Well, that’s fine. Sure, it would be bad for them, but I’d rather travel on foot for now. It’s not like I have my own Dolmen to where I would need a mobile fortress.”

Her smile giving way to a pout, Chain tried to dismiss the nuns using her own selfish desires to make a point. It naturally didn’t work on Drop who knew better due to simply being Chain, but the disbelieving smile she offered Chain quickly disappeared. A voice from a table behind them sent a chill down both of their spines despite the warmness it spoke with.

“Come now Chainmaid, that is a horrible way to treat your benefactors.”

From Chain’s shoulder blades a jet of Darkness in the form of flames jutted out before taking the form of a cape. Spinning about to face the origin of the voice, Chain also revealed that her simple cruciform sword had also appeared from the flames. Drawing the weapon and taking up a combat stance even as she returned the sword’s scabbard to the void it had come from within her summoned cape, Chain faced down the owner of the voice. She immediately wrinkled her mouth as she became no longer sure how to proceed when she saw them however.

“It would appear that she is still ill at ease Lute.”

Taking a sip from the teacup he held, an icaran man with silver hair and red eyes dressed fancily in a red great coat eyed Chain coolly past the long, curled lock of hair that dangled by his left eye. The chilling voice he spoke with obviously did not mark him as the initial speaker, leaving the curled tip red haired man with the silver eyes and matching great coat to be the speaker as he was the only other one present. Like the other light skinned icaran man, his older brother Pan Mouser in fact, Lute held a teacup. Where Pan leaned against the table between them threateningly, Lute lounged back in his seat with one leg resting atop the other. The lack of weapons on their persons would have made them appear anything but a threat regardless, but anyone who knew of the Mouser Brothers and the reputation of those two Sa·B·ers would not have faulted Chain for her reaction. That the Mouser Brothers were also openly hunting Chain only made her wearier. The lack of their weapons however left her feeling villainous as she held her sword threateningly at them.

“It does look that way brother. *Sigh* And after you trusted me enough to have your back Chainmaid. Have the results really disappointed you so much?”

Chain’s mouth wrinkled even more as she was confronted with Lute’s hurt expression, yet she adjusted her grip on her sword regardless. Sweating nervously, Chain was grateful in that moment for the grip her Chainmail afforded her upon her weapon as she challenged the Mouser Brothers with a question.

“What are you two doing here⁈ I would have thought the nuns here would have never let you on here after they saved me from you two the first time!”

It was not surprising to see Lute sigh, as his warmer and more open nature than his brother allowed him a greater range of expected emotion. Pan sighing then was akin to experiencing an artic breeze in the middle of a rainforest summer. The chills it brought along with it were just as paralyzing and Chain was afraid she only still held her sword as she did because she was too paralyzed herself to loosen her grip. She did manage to grit her teeth however even as Pan lowered his teacup to its matching saucer. Withdrawing his hand from the cup Chain feared she may find out where his weapon was hidden and a bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. Then Pan reached out and Chain tensed further. All of the tension she had been experiencing disappeared in a blink however and was replaced by confusion as Pan picked up a teapot and poured himself another cup of tea. Returning the teapot to its tray on the table he lifted his cup and breathed in the tea’s aroma before taking a sip. Lowering his teacup once more to its saucer he leveled the still combat ready Chain again with that chilling gaze of his.

“To answer your question Chainmaid, Lute and I are having tea.”
.


Copyright © 2019 Joshua D Tarwater

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