-Break-
His hands continued to move, unable to stop as he moulded the wood in front of him into a state that could give his mind the same sensation he felt as his body rested on the chair that day.
The concentration within his mind grows each moment, with the only stray thought entering being the words and expressions pasted on his mother's face. And as he remembers each of them, his soul grows as his concentration sharpens more and more.
Memories once lost to him, sensations buried deep within his soul, feelings from the day he was born and held by the women he calls his mother rise a bit by bit from within him, and flow into his hands bit by bit, and for the first time in a while all he can do is smile as he works.
-Break-
Φ Turning my body around, I slam my fist against my heart, and say, "It's time to do this."
I slowly lower myself onto the seat behind me, and soon I feel my heart and skin tingly, in a similar way to how it felt to sit on that chair earlier, and feeling it, I take a deep breath and exhale. "Seems like I am still off by a good bit, though at least I am getting closer unlike before."
Feeling an image of my mother appear in my mind, I say, "I guess I better thank her."
Grabbing the cravin she made, I say, "This really is rather well made. I never knew my mother had such a skill; it's rather amazing, all things considered. Maybe I could get her to show me around. Though maybe that would be asking for too much. Whatever."
-Break-
Location: Village of Zaad Ziener
My body moves straight through the mass of people all trying to move around. The sweat from there body splashes onto me, and the stink within the vessel assaults my nostrils again and again.
The searing heat is enough to roast a big, and the air is scarce as all the people around the area take it all in before me; it's just as bad as being in the middle of the battlefield, with the only exception being you don't have to worry about being stabbed. But you still have to worry about not having your pockets raided.
As hands move in and around my pocket, I quickly move my hand, snapping the fingers of the people who try, as I quickly stare deep into their eyes, warning them of the wrath they will face if they continue.
I guess theft must be rampant; if everything my father has said has been through the food to go around out here is getting more and more scarce, so stealing in the crowds is the only way to avoid Bell and his men starting to strike back. I should keep an eye out.
Φ The boy's eyes move around to take in the world around him for the sake of his safety, and there he stares at all the faces around him. He notices the bags under there eyes, the cuts against there skin, the runniness of there noises, the trembling within there hands, their dry and cracked skin, the dirt that has dried on their clothes, the words of comfort they give to there kids, the feelings of desolation that cover there faces, the movement of there bodies into one another without any care about the impact or damage it may cause, and the feelings of rage of those who are caught up by those who barely even notice them reaching for there weapons.
Φ That idiot is going to stab someone; I need to move fast. Should I go upwards? No, that will cause a scene, and people might straight panic, which could cause a stampede to occur.
I use my Spirit Energy to quickly slip in between the people, gently guiding them out of my way, as I slip through. I need to go faster, or I won't make it in time. Come on, just get out of my way.
The force of my hand increases as I move and watch the man contemplate stabbing those who bump into him again and again. Soon he raises his knife up to strike the person who just walked into him, and I prepare to fling whoever is in my way out of my path.
Yet as a mother holding her child appears in front of me, my motions stop, and the man continues with his knife, making me yell, "STOP!"
My words are consumed by the mumbling made by the mass of people, and as the knife comes towards its target, the blade is caught in a book; then substantially the man is disarmed, and a strike hits him in the neck.
Moving forward through the crowd, I appear in front of them both, and there the protector says, "It isn't good to take out your rage on others; that's how you begin an endless cycle."
Staring forward at the man, our eyes meet and looking down at me while waving his book, he says, "If it isn't Captivant. Nice to see you," with a smile on his face.
With my face muscles stiffening, I say, "Father Zackery."
-Break-
Location: Zaad Ziener; St. Mika's Church
Walking with a criminal over my shoulder, I say, "You said you were going to help me locate my mother; why the hell are you taking me to the church?"
"Hey, as far as you could know, your mother might be here."
"I doubt that; both my parents are probably still calming down tensions across the village, especially since I got into that fight and now the rest of the villagers know I am here."
"So you're aware of the chaos your presence has caused amongst us."
"If you're looking for someone to blame, my doormat of a father is always there."
"Very few things in the world fit into a binary; there is almost always a weight that you can throw on each person, and maybe that person you're carrying will allow you to feel yours a bit."
"I barely feel anything from this hobo over my shoulder, so hurry and tell me where my mother i-." Looking forward, my eyes see a giant crowd of people all gathered in front of St.Mika's church, all on their hands and knees praying.
"What is this?"
"It's a church service. Lots of people in trying times often come to god to make themselves better before they periodically go back to their lives of sin when their wealth returns."
"Is that something a father should be saying?"
Laughing, he takes a seat as they all pray, says, "The truth will set you free, and regardless, even if their hearts in this moment are not fully set on the Messiah, I hope the words that come out from our ministers will reach them."
He pats the ground beside him, and I join him. Staring around at the crowd, I see many different items scattered about making a square that surrounds everybody, yet as they revive lost memories in my head, I say, "Hey, aren't those from inside the church?"
"The décor of our holy temple looks good when placed on the god's green grass, doesn't it?"
"You do realise those are priceless artefacts of humanity, don't you? My ancestors didn't protect them for millennia for you to just leave them hanging out there; what if they get stolen?"
"Stop being so material; at the end of the day it's just a bunch of items. Caring too much about them just becomes idol worship. Besides, do you think any of those desperate faces would think about stealing those items?"
"Yes I do, I think any one of those items would fulfil the material sin you were talking about."
"Wealth comes in many forms. When one has lost their country, their people, their future, what they need more than anything is certainty, and such a thing can only be found in community. In front of you lie people from every single corner of the round world divided by nationality, language, history, and culture, yet the set of moral principles passed down to us by the Messiah itself allows us to be guided forward towards unity despite the fear, distrust and hardship that lies in all of our futures. That peace of mind, the fulfilment within the souls of those you see, isn't something that can be attained through financial power one could gain from everything around you. If we only view the world through incentives, not a single person here would ever betray the trust of the community; it would be economically idiotic."
"How nice of you. But don't pretend like Telonism is some kind of hivemind of unity. You guys fought for centuries over which tree was the holy tree of the first humans, Cordum, the Lotus, or 9 Realms. Even today the faith is still split between the Church of the Messiah and the Church of Lux, with the Church of the Lotus in third place, with so many different regional variations that have been influenced by tradition and even the other races' gods that you could say there are numerous faiths."
Panicking a bit, Zackery says, "Umm, that's why we scholars of Cordum activity work to purify the original teachings from the cultural lens and political aims that have been put on them over the generations for the sake of overcoming the sins of man and receiving the true words of god."
"Yeah, as if that's even possible in the first place given how long ago the Messiah lived; besides, haven't the priests of the Church of the Messiah had a lot of corruption given that you guys all work at Cordum which controls the flow of Lupas. Not to mention many mainstream interpretations of the Arba'ah Olamot say the gods of all the other races were demons or something to that effect, while they say humans were the ones who randomly appeared on their planet?"
"Hey, as I said, those are merely interpretations; it's not like all of us believe it, it's why we need to carefully re-read and go over said words without our biases!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Looking forward into the dispersing crowds, I say, "They look like they're finishing up, so will you tell me where the fuck my mom is?"
"Hey, hey, no cursing, it makes my throat close up."
"My fingers itch, you bitch!"
"Alright, alright, but before we do that, let's go pack things up."
"Urgh!"
"Now, now, no complaining. Your mother's schedule is jam-packed and only important figures know of it due to her safety, so you're going to miss her if you don't listen to me."
I click my tongue, and Zackery, pointing beside me, says, "I know you're awake as well; now come along with us."
The criminal beside me gets up, and soon the three of us walk forward.
-Break-
Dropping a wooden pillar into the room, I turn around and say, "That's all of it."
Clapping his hands, Zackery says, "Good work, you three. Now, Richter, do you see the errors of your ways?"
The criminal, lowering his head as sweat pours down his face, says, "I apologise. I know I shouldn't have done such a thing. Would you please forgive me?"
"Forgiveness is not earned by man but by the world above."
"I want an apology," I say, glaring at him.
Zackery says, "Ignore him. He used to poop his pants to get his mother's attention when she dropped."
"WHEN I WAS A BABY! DON'T LEAVE OUT CONTEXT."
"It barely makes it sound better. Now, please report to Priest Admina for help; she will walk you through the demons that plague you, and while we do care for you, I need you to understand we can only give you an alternative solution if you work with us; failure to do so will require us to hand you over to the village's judgment."
He nods, and moving over to the other priest in the room, Admina, he walks out. Zackery turns his head to me and says, "Now we should pick up where we left off."