Cathedral of the Old Blood (1)

The Cathedral of the Old Blood truly towered above the city, Aoric thought as his steps carried him across the plaza. Few people remained out here now. Most had gone inside the cathedral, while some others simply left, presumably going to work.

It was for the best, Aoric thought, since he was probably drawing at least some attention, standing by the steps leading to the entrance and glaring at the macabre statues depicting the downfall of man. He gulped and stepped forward. Was that an angel, with its wings chained up that was carved above the massive doors there?

Aoric was no religious person, but he had seen other churches and small chapels before. None had such depictions anywhere. It was usually the opposite, even. The ascension of mankind, and the grace and compassion of the angels was what he was used to see depicted in religion.

He stepped through the gates, into the Cathedral of the Old Blood.

Grand, was the only word that came to mind. Rows of pews extended from a few steps beyond the door, all the way to the raised altar at the centre of the Cathedral. They could easily fit the entire city in here, Aoric thought as he silently stepped forward. He slowly lowered himself onto one of the pews towards the middle and joined his palms.

He tilted his had down just enough for his mess hair to hide his eyes and began scouring his surroundings.

Like Irene, and later, Ivy, had told him, there were no other entrances he could see that could lead outside. There were three doors however: one leading to the left wing of the building, one leading to the right wing, and one leading to the back side. He pondered, what were the chances of there being an exit?

The easiest way to find out would be to check the outside of the cathedral, since there was no way he could sneak in through those doors right now. There were about two dozen people silently praying, and the acoustic design of the building made it so every single sound was amplified tenfold, as he could easily hear the rustle of clothes or muffled coughs of others.

He turned his gaze onto the altar. Several objects lay on it, though the most prominent one was the grail. A glorified chalice was all it seemed to be. Made of silver, with intricate shapes carved on it, and large enough to hold almost half a bottle of wine, but a chalice, nonetheless.

He wondered how much of it was full. Carrying around liquids was difficult enough on its own, having to drain it from blood, clean it, and put new, different blood in was nigh impossible. How was he supposed to do all that in here?

He sighed. The creak of the doors was also an issue. He couldn't just sneak through the front gate it the front gate was closed. The noise would immediately alert the priests. Instead, he would need to come during the day, hide somewhere inside, and then somehow replace the blood, then leave when the doors opened for some other reason.

Impossible, he thought to himself. He was no master thief, he couldn't pull something like this off! Yet, if he didn't, he had no doubt Irene would, in fact, have him killed. The woman certainly was crazy enough to do so.

"You seem troubled, my child." A soft voice startled him. Aoric's head jerked to the side, towards the owner of the voice. A man, wearing black robes, was standing besides him. When had he come here? How come had Aoric not noticed him. "Would you like to share your troubles?" The man asked.

Aoric hesitated. Was this normal? Why him, of all people? Had he made a wrong expression?

"There is no reason to fear. Come, tell me of your troubles."

Aoric glanced around, only to see the jealous gazes of the others praying silently. Was this chance something that was coveted? If so, it would be more of an issue if he refused.

"Thank you." He whispered, unsure of how to call this man.

"Come," The man said with a gentle, kind voice. He slowly walked among the pews, to the door leading to the left wing of the cathedral. Aoric followed him, keeping his head low in an attempt to hide his face. Alarm bells rang in his mind. This was bad – very bad! He had drawn more attention than he wanted to in the first place.

The door led them to a well lit library. Not a speck of dust was to be seen, though the smell of old parchment and leather lingered in the air. Aoric drew a long breath, letting the smell fill his nostrils.

"It is a nice smell, isn't it?" The man asked with a gentle smile. "Do you read at all, young man?"

Aoric hesitated. "Rarely," he said.

"Why the fear?" The man asked as he led Aoric to a set of couches. No one else was around. "Sit, and know this, there is nothing to fear."

Aoric lowered himself onto the couch. If was soft and comfortable. He could easily fall asleep here if he had the chance.

"I feel like others could have used your help more, sir." He muttered. "I'm not from Vesporum, I shouldn't take such a chance away from them."

The man chuckled. "A chance for what?" he asked. "The people of Vesporum are always scared of one thing or another. The moon, the sun, the stars, the skies…" He made a vague gesture. "You, on the other hand, have more real issues, don't you? Something tangible, something I can help with, rather than providing empty words and vague promises." He leaned forward. "What troubles you, young man?"