The Warrior

Chapter 14: Chapter 14


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Indenuel was awake when the sun came up. It was the Sabbath, which meant he needed to get ready for morning services. He dressed in the fine clothes Nathaniel got for him and looked in the mirror, again feeling like he was playing a game of dress up. Even though he regularly combed his hair, it still looked as though he hadn’t given it more than a glance in years. He tried as long as he dared to get it to look nice. He gave up when he heard Martin knocking at his door.

Indenuel opened the door, fiddling with the nice cream jacket, trying not to think about how quickly it would get dirty as he bowed to Martin. “May God bless you on this Sabbath day, High Elder Martin.”

Martin smiled as he returned the bow. “And may God bless you, Indenuel. But please, even on Sabbath day, you may just call me Martin.”

Indenuel tried to smile but shook his head instead. “If you wish.”

“I wanted to ask you last night, but I didn’t want to wake you. Would you like to be my travel companion on the way to the chapel?” Martin asked.

“Of course, it would be an honor.” He said this even as his fears wondered what a travel companion was supposed to do. Was that some upper classman term? It must be a fancier way of going to the chapel together. Indenuel tried again to straighten his hair with his hands. Martin stepped aside so Indenuel could walk out of the room.

They were as quiet as possible as they walked down the hallway, through the dining area, and out the inn.

“I saw the chapel in Mountain Pass,” Martin said. “It’s a lovely building.”

“Thanks,” Indenuel said, like he had given any contribution to its construction.

“Now, the traveling ministers, how often would they stop by?” Martin asked.

“Maybe once a month,” Indenuel said.

“Were you able to meditate in the building on the Sabbath days they weren’t there?” Martin asked.

“No sir. They were locked,” Indenuel said.

Martin nodded. “I am more impressed that your powers are as strong as they are, then.”

“My mother took us far away from the village, more in a wooded area, and helped us meditate there on the Sabbath," Indenuel said.

“How remarkable.”

There was an entire fleet of carriages beside the stables, all of them in a red, orange, or yellow color, with intricate designs around the edges.

“Are these for us?” Indenuel asked, trying to ignore the obvious wealth exuding from the carriages, the like which would never be seen in Tavi, let alone Mountain Pass.

“They are. Nathaniel and Adosina used them to travel here. They will be quite comfortable as we make our journey back to Santollia City,” Martin said.

Indenuel climbed in and situated himself on the fine cushioned red seats as Martin handed him a small loaf of rye bread in a handkerchief. “I thought we needed to fast until after meditation,” Indenuel said, looking at the bread.

“Yes, but you survived a month-long blizzard with little to no food. God, I am certain, will forgive you in this case. Besides, you will need your strength if you are to train with my son in the coming weeks,” Martin said.

Indenuel didn’t argue. He ate the bread as the carriage headed toward the chapel. Martin went over the notes for his sermon. “Nathaniel knows about me,” Indenuel said quietly.

“He is a smart man. Also a loyal one. He will not spoil your secret.” Martin looked up from his notes. “How long do you intend to keep this a secret?”

Indenuel sighed, looking out the small window above the door. “I don’t know. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Disappoint?” Martin asked.

Indenuel opened his arms so Martin could see Indenuel better. “I don’t look like the warrior.” None of that was more obvious than being in the finest clothes of Tavi, while sitting in one of the fanciest carriages he had ever seen. He was completely out of his element.

Martin gave him a comforting smile. “Ah, Indenuel. To struggle with the imaginary expectations of others is an impossible battle you will always loose. Have faith in your fellow men. Give this town a reason to celebrate.”

Indenuel folded his arms over his lap, staring out the window. “I’ll think about it.”

The pages of Martin’s sermon rustled together. “I always end my sermons with a message of hope, and it usually involves the Warrior. You do not have to identify yourself, but I wanted to tell you, so you don’t think I’m trying to secretly reveal you.”

Indenuel nodded as the carriage pulled up to the chapel and Indenuel got out. He had never seen the chapel in Tavi. It was lovely, far nicer than the one in Mountain Pass. It was still early, and the only one there was the minister, who bowed to Martin and Indenuel. They bowed in return before a terrifying thought struck Indenuel. “Would I ever have to give a sermon?”

Martin’s face relaxed, almost like he was going to laugh. “No. You are not expected to be a religious scholar, but a protector of the Santollian people.”

A weight lifted off his shoulders. It was good to know there were at least some things that weren’t expected of him. He could focus on the other impossible tasks instead.

Indenuel watched as Martin and the Minister began to talk. As more townsfolk began trickling in, they joined the group. Once the crowd got too big, Indenuel took the opportunity to back away and press his back to the wall. Again, Martin eased into his manner of talking with them all together and individually. Some brought their sick, who Martin healed. Indenuel stared forward, wondering if he should sit down soon. It was near the crowd, but he tried to convince himself the crowd wouldn’t hurt him. They were here for Martin, not for him. He wasn’t in any danger.

“Hello, Indenuel,” Adosina said. Indenuel gave a gasp and leapt to one side. Adosina’s eyes widened. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh, yes, I… never mind. No need to apologize,” Indenuel said, trying again to straighten his hair. “May God bless you on this Sabbath day, Adosina.”

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Adosina smiled, though there was still a flicker of concern in her eyes. “And may God bless you, Indenuel.” She was wearing a beautiful cream-colored dress with delicate designs of flowers and butterflies. It was a dress that screamed upperclassman. Beautiful, flowing, the skirt billowing out into many layers. It looked impossible to do anything other than to sit on a bench and listen to a sermon.

Indenuel noticed Nathaniel in the congregation. He had gathered his own crowd around him. Most likely people asking for updates on the war.

“I didn’t see you much last night,” Adosina said.

“I don’t do well with crowds,” Indenuel said.

Adosina gave a smile. “Ah. My apologies. It can get overwhelming at times.”

Indenuel tried to smile as the minister began ushering people to their seats. Adosina sat at a different bench than Indenuel. Indenuel had never sat on a bench at a chapel before. Due to his status, he was always in the back, either standing or sitting on the floor. Once it was quiet enough, Indenuel glanced over his shoulder to see if there was anyone in the very back of the chapel. There were a lot, but they didn’t look destitute. It was Martin’s coming, he realized. The chapel was probably fuller than a normal Sabbath day.

The minister introduced Martin, talking about his many accomplishments. Indenuel tried to pay attention, aware he was in a fine seat, though grateful he wasn’t at the front of the chapel with Martin. He was also stunned at exactly what kind of man Martin was. Despite being with him for almost a week, Indenuel’s eyebrows raised higher and higher as the minister continued to talk about Martin’s accomplishments. Strongest healer since he was a child. Religiously intellectual, being top of his class every year. Military genius. Was a key individual in the planning of a battle against the Oraminians that caused them to switch sides and become Santollia’s ally. Indenuel had guessed Martin was an incredible individual, but now he wondered if he should insist on calling Martin by his rightful title out of respect.

Martin stood and smiled at the group, his arms wide, like he had with every crowd who had come to see him. Martin began his sermon. Indenuel listened, marveling at Martin’s way of speaking. He wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t jittery. He looked as though he had done this his entire life, which come to think of it, he probably had.

Martin captured the attention of the congregation. It was almost like having a conversation with Martin about religion, even if it was only him talking. He made it seem so simple. One didn’t need special training to develop the God-given gifts. The gifts worked best when God’s laws were followed. Laws of purity and rules of decency, treating others kind, helping to strengthen one another, all were ways the gifts could grow and develop. And of course, shunning the evil, corruptive powers so they had no chance to corrode the beautiful gifts from God.

“As we work to follow God’s law and develop these beautiful gifts He has given, we will be blessed beyond measure,” Martin said. “The war will be over soon. I know it. The Warrior will make an appearance, and he will bring the Kiamese soldiers to their knees.”

Indenuel’s face grew warm. Martin warned him that he was going to talk about this, but he simply didn’t know how to react.

“His story is one of inspiration. Of overcoming all odds. Staying true to God’s word despite the hardships of losing his mother and coming from such destitute circumstances. He is an example to all of us of how we do not need riches or titles to change the world. You can do enough with your God-given gifts, if you follow the God-given laws. The Warrior will be found. He is out there, strengthening his gifts, just as you are strengthening yours.”

There was a weight of a pair of eyes and Indenuel moved ever so slightly to see Adosina down his same row, staring at him with a slack mouth, her eyes large. Indenuel’s eyes widened before he turned away. Martin had said nothing specific about Indenuel’s life. Except that he had lost his mother. And he told Adosina this news just yesterday. And considering the clothes he was in, he most definitely looked destitute. Indenuel couldn’t help but crouch down ever so slightly so she couldn’t see him.

Martin ended the sermon, and the congregation filtered out to do their meditation.

Adosina walked up to him, and Indenuel stiffened before he forced himself to calm down. He gave a small bow of his head. “Adosina.”

“Indenuel.”

The silence stretched between them before Adosina gave a smile. “You know, you never answered my question. Which God-given gift do you have?”

Indenuel swallowed before giving a pained smile. “Weather control.” It was the one he told everyone in Mountain Pass, so in a way he was most comfortable pretending he just had that one.

“I see,” Adosina said. “A wonderful gift, surely.”

“It is, yes. Mountain Pass is mostly farmers, and though God blesses us with enough rain, it is nice to know we can make more or stop it when needed.”

“Yes, yes. So glad you were able to help your village in that way,” Adosina said as she followed someone with her eyes as they approached from behind Indenuel.

Martin placed a hand on Indenuel’s shoulder. Indenuel prided himself on not stiffening at the touch. “Adosina! Indenuel. As my family, they have offered the quiet rooms in the back of the chapel. Nathaniel, Rosa, and their boys are already in one. How about us three take the other one?”

“That sounds wonderful! I was just talking to Indenuel about the gift he has. I’m sure you will teach him everything he needs to know since you’re both healers,” Adosina said.

Indenuel was slightly confused, and hesitated before trying to correct her, but Martin plowed on ahead. “Of course. I would hope Indenuel here will soon outrival me as a healer.”

Adosina smirked as Indenuel figured out what she had done; confirmed he had both weather and healing. Martin looked at Adosina, confused.

“That’s what I thought,” Adosina said.

She said nothing more as she gave a curtsey and left for the back room of the chapel. Martin gave Indenuel a curious look.

“I told her I was a weather controller,” Indenuel mumbled.

“Ah,” Martin said as they watched Adosina walk into the room and close the door. Martin gave a sigh. “Well, I cannot get angry at my daughter for being clever. I assure you she won’t say a word.” Indenuel gave a halfhearted nod.

Indenuel entered the room. It was one with no foundation and many open windows for those with tree talking and weather control. He purposefully refused to acknowledge Adosina as he closed his eyes. Martin walked in, whispering something to Adosina. Something Indenuel hoped was a vow of secrecy before Indenuel allowed himself to sink into his powers.

Lucia always told him this was a time of self-reflection. People with one power used it to strengthen their one gift. Indenuel used it to make sure all his powers were strengthened at the same rate. When he was a child, he had tried to strengthen only weather control to see if the others would fade away. Once he wanted to fit in with everyone else.

Indenuel reached out to the trees, feeling their connection with each other, their innocence, their desire to learn and grow, to stretch toward the sky, to receive the sun and rain. Indenuel stretched to the sky, feeling the motion of the breeze, the formation of clouds, the rays of sun, almost smelling the raindrops. He flared his healing power and sensed his own body, the way it worked in its own rhythm, his heartbeat, his blood vessels, the muscles and joints. Speaking to the dead was always the hardest, and therefore he always did it last. He sensed Martin and Adosina, the physical bodies, but pushed himself farther, keeping his eyes closed as the spiritual realm opened to him. Peace permeated every time his mind entered the spiritual realm. He sensed the way the spirits moved, always humming a gentle, almost song like quality. It was more crowded in this chapel than outside. None of the spirits would talk to him. Not unless it was someone related to him, or some sort of urgent matter. The spirits did their best to be there, filling the room with peace, driving the demons out. 

Speaking to the dead always brought peace, but also a lot of questions. There weren’t any spirits who were born before the Great Flood. No one seemed to understand why. Not only were thousands of years of history wiped out, but it seemed the spirits disappeared too. The spiritual realm brought peace because they had knowledge of the next life. Knowledge that Indenuel would continue to be himself even if he died, but the other questions spooked Indenuel more than he liked to admit. They knew people had existed before the Great Flood, so where had the spirits gone? What if they simply disappeared. And what if that would happen to him, too?

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