[Mkguild] MK: Sharing the Light

[Hallan Mirayas]

Sharing the Light

by Hallan Mirayas and Charles Matthais

 =


            "Nunc
dimittis servum tuum, Domine, secundum verbum tuum in pace:"

 =


            Father
Hough was kneeling at the altar, hands folded, quietly chanting the evening
prayers when Drift Snow slipped through the entrance doors behind him.  The=
 chapel was otherwise empty of people, and
the boy-priest's voice carried well in the fine acoustics of the room.

 =


            "Quia
viderunt oculi mei salutare tuum=85"

 =


            Drift
carefully shut the doors, taking care to make as little noise as possible. =
 He frowned, wishing he'd thought to shutter
the lantern he carried before entering, as it threw new shadows around the =
room
and he'd wanted as unnoticed an entry as possible.  Well, too late for that=
 now...

 =


            "Quod
parasti ante faciem omnium populorum=85"

 =


            The samoyed
Keeper recognized pieces of what was being said, enough to take a guess at =
what
prayer was being spoken, but his grasp of the Old Suiel used by the Ecclesia
was sparse at best.  He cast his mind
back to his uncle's translation, hidden in his room, trying to figure out w=
hat
the next line would be, but Father Hough finished before he could remember.

 =


            "Lumen
ad revelationem gentium, et gloriam plebis tuae Yehudim.  Amen."

            =


            Drift
waited until Father Hough had made the sign of the yew and started to rise
before announcing his presence. =

"Hello, priest."

 =


            Father
Hough turned, surprised (albeit pleasantly so) to hear that particular voic=
e in
his church.  "Master Snow.  I did not expect to see you here.  Welcome."

 =


            Drift
walked in silence around the room, pausing to admire each of the stained gl=
ass
windows in turn.  He lifted his lantern
when the moon's light and the light of the candles around the church were n=
ot
enough.  The seven-sided lantern gleamed
brightly in Drift's hand, each surface polished, the glass lightly etched. =
 "Misha was right," he said finally,
without any preamble, reaching out to stroke a finger over a particularly r=
ich
blue pane.  "These are
beautiful.  I love stained glass."

 =


            "Thank
you," Father Hough replied, stepping up alongside, looking up at the
window in front of which the samoyed had stopped, his tail gently
swishing.  Yahshua sat at the side of a
well, and a woman in Steppelander clothes stood nearby, a pitcher by her
side.  Yahshua's hand extended toward her
in invitation.  Drift's choice of windows
did not surprise the boy priest. =

"The Steppelander woman at the well.  This is one of my favorites, too."  H=
e let the silence stretch for a few moments
before turning to look up at the white-furred Keeper next to him with the
slightest hint of a sad smile at the tension his proximity seemed to
reflexively cause in the man.  Rather
than unkindly draw that tension out, he cut to the point.  "But something t=
ells me, Master Snow,
that you didn't come all the way here to talk about windows."

 =


            "No,"
Drift replied, finally turning to look at the boy priest.  "I've been doing=
 some thinking over the
past month, about what you and Madog said. =

After that, I started asking around=85 and what I've heard about you has
been, without fail, positive."  He
stooped to one knee so he could look Hough in the eye.  "I don't think you =
and I are ever likely
to resolve the issues I have with the Ecclesia hierarchy and their tactics,=
 but
you yourself I think I can trust." =

Lowering the lantern, he held it out to Hough.  "I made this for you.  Plea=
se, consider it a peace offering,"
he said with just a hint of ingrained reluctance, "and an apology for
pre-judging you.  I hope that it can be a
reminder for all that our differences are less important than the things th=
at
we share."  The lantern looked
undersized in his hand, clearly meant for someone smaller than he.  His mou=
th twitched slightly.  "However heretical an idea that might
be."

 =


            Hough's
smile fit his face perfectly.  The lantern
light danced across his youthful brown curls and sparkled in his eyes.
"Thank you, Master Snow.  This is a
lovely gift.  I gladly accept it in the
spirit in which it is given.  We do have
more in common than we often recognize." His eyes strayed past the lantern
to note the way Drift knelt, and then rose to meet the Samoyed's gaze.
"But you shouldn't give up so soon on resolving issues.  Nothing grieves Ya=
hshua more than to see his
children squabble."

 =


            Drift
shrugged.  "This seems pretty
amicable to me.  I'm here, aren't
I?"  He got to his feet and brushed
off his knee, his white fur almost seeming to glow in the broad sweep of li=
ght
cast by the slightly lensed glass of the lantern.  "Well, I won't keep you =
from your duties
or your sleep any longer," he said as he turned to go.  "Goodnight, priest."

 =


            Hough
lowered the lamp, casting his face into the shadows that he might see bette=
r.
"Master Snow?" His voice was curious, soft, and welcoming as to a
friend. "Why will you not join us?  Your friend Misha has been with
us many times."

 =


            Drift
paused, looking around, and his ears flicked with suppressed irritation as =
his
eye traveled through the Stations of the Yew, the procession of statues
depicting Yahshua's path from the courts where he was condemned to death, to
fulfilling that death on the yew.  His
ears flicked most noticeably at the last station, and he quickly turned his
attention to the windows instead, which seemed to please him more, although=
 his
lips still tightened slightly at a few of them depicting the Virgin Mother.=
  "I'll think on it," he said
finally.  "I have my own place for
worship, but perhaps for special occasions."

 =


            Father
Hough nodded and smiled in a way that must have set many hearts at ease.
"You are always welcome here, Master Snow.  I or one of my acolytes
will be happy to help in any way we can.  If you prefer, I will tell my
acolytes to fetch me when you come."

 =


            Drift
half-turned, one ear flicking off to the side in mildly baffled curiosity,
Hough's smile notwithstanding.  "I
was thinking more along the lines of Yule or Easter than for=85  help." =

He pondered for a moment, running his hand absently along the polished
wood of the backmost pew.  "Still, I
appreciate the offer, and I'll consider it."

 =


            Hough
nodded.  "Of course.  You must
do as you feel the Spirit Most Holy directs.  We will be happy to have you
join us during those most wonderful liturgies." He turned to the side and
paused, his face lost in brief thought when he saw by Drift's expression th=
at
his slightly grandiose choice of wording had not been as well received as h=
e might
have hoped.  After a moment of grasping for a way to repair his small
gaffe, he turned back to the samoyed, believing he now had the right answer=
 in
mind. "Madog tells me that you are very gifted in working with the lighter
metals, and from this I see he is correct.  Perhaps you can aid us
here.  One of our stanchions was damaged during the attack last Yule, and
I have never had it repaired.  Mayhap sometime you could inspect it?"

 =


            The apparent
shrewdness of the remark was not lost on Drift after months of experience w=
ith
his clever fianc=E9e, and his tail swished in amusement.  Trying
to bring me back with a little flattery, are you, since I've already declin=
ed
your 'help'? he thought to himself.  Let's see what happens if I move up th=
e time
a little.  "Madog was being
generous, as he usually is," he said modestly, leaning forward against the
pew and supporting himself with his hands, and he couldn't quite keep a sma=
ll
smile from his face.  "I've got a
few minutes to take a look now, if you'd like."

 =


            Hough
smiled and lifted the lantern higher. "Follow me.  It's just this
way." The priest turned toward the altar, where one of the candle stands be=
side
it stood slightly askew, its top and bottom both bent.

 =


            Drift stood
there for a moment, his mouth slightly open, feeling like he had when Wolfr=
am
had grabbed his arm mid-punch during hand-to-hand combat practice the month
before and thrown him into a wall.  Now,
as he had then, he thought, wait=85 that
wasn't supposed to happen.  Only when
Hough turned to look for him did the samoyed jar back into motion.  "Coming=
=85" =



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