Chapter 127 Embers (1/2)
By the System it hurt. It had ever since he'd lost it in that one moment, where the s.h.i.+ning picture he had painted of himself had been ripped away along with his limb. Even now, several days later, Beyn was at a loss to explain exactly what had occurred at that time.
The fear that had gripped his heart, when that monster had burst into the middle of his sermon, he could recall it perfectly even now. When the beast had remained so still, so accepting, that fear had been replaced with wonder. It was as if the holy System had been speaking to him directly, offering itself to him, asking that he accept the fruits of its blessed creations!
What joy! What reverence! In that moment Beyn had felt as if he had touched the foot of G.o.d!
The surging emotions that had blazed in his heart as he had brought the church screptum down on the head of the offering had been so powerful he almost shook now just recalling it.
He had been so wrong.
His visions of a grand destiny, of being a prophet of the system had been torn away as that terrifying monster had darted forth, so quickly he couldn't even see it, and brought those serrated jaws down on his arm, shearing it away with ease.
Since that moment he had barely spoken, the haunting zeal in eyes had intimidated the townspeople to the point they couldn't meet his glare. They had taken him to the apothecary for treatment and left him there, speaking softly as they pa.s.sed by his door. To be honest he needed no physical healing. The spell performed on him by the G.o.dless monster had closed the wound. To do better would require a powerful specialist in the healing arts to regenerate his arm.
Even in his dazed state, laying in his bed, Beyn was able to pick up bits and pieces of information from the nervous conversations he overheard.
There was trouble at the capital, fighting in the streets. People had been fleeing the city until the gates had been barred. The Queen was dead. The Queen was alive. It was a coup, it was an invasion, it was the Dungeon rising for a second cataclysm.
On the second day he heard that the town council had called a meeting to discuss the crises.
Slowly the blood began to stir in Beyn's veins. He couldn't lie here forever. The system, his G.o.d, was stirring, he could feel it. He must be a part of the events to come, and he would be! Casting off his blankets, stood and strode out of his room with purposeful steps.
As the wounded priest strode through the town the people subconsciously turned their eyes away, doffing their cap or offering a brief curtsy before moving out of his path. They could not bare to meet the righteous zeal ablaze in his eyes.
The priest marched through the town to the mayors house, sweeping open the door with his good arm and entering with long strides.
Inside a huddle of the town's dignitaries huddled around the desk of a beleaguered fat man, the livery of the mayor hung over his silk robes.
The mayors eyes brightened when he saw Beyn enter.
”Ah! Look gentlemen, our good priest in the faith has arisen from his convalescence so quickly! This is cause for celebration, we should delay this meeting until after we have properly toasted this happy occasion!”
Several people in the chamber erupted in cheers whilst others sighed, heads falling into hands. The owner of the market, Mrs Ruther, attempted to protest the suspension of discussion but to no avail, the mayor hand already called on his servants to go and fetch wine for his guests and be quick about it dammit!
Contempt flickered in Beyn's eyes but he quickly suppressed it. This idiot would do anything to get out of his responsibilities and drink. A few more years of soaking and his family wealth may just run dry, with the wine soon to follow.
”If it please my lord Ebruis, the discussion should not be delayed, it is for the purpose of conversing with you and the council that I have arisen from my rest” Beyn smoothly interjected.
The quivering intensity in his voice was unnerving enough that even Ebruis could not deny it.