Sister Naya looked stunned beyond recognition. “... Oh.”
Big Olrec gestured dismissively. “Listen ter me, Naya. It’s
been long and long since I took on students.”
He said the word mockingly, as though he had no business using it. “I’m nae
much fer takin’ on royal students,
aside. But if’n it brings solace and honor ter the Guards, then who am I ter refuse?”
This brought the faintest of smiles to the priestess’s face.
“I ... I’ll bring it to Her Majesty’s attention.”
The grizzled old veteran bowed deep at the waist. His beard
scraped the ground. “Ye do that.”
Naya saluted, resting the knuckle of her thumb against her
forehead, and turned back toward the tower. Olrec looked up at the huge,
spiraling edifice that was rumored to have stood for a thousand years. Selena’s
Walk, the tower that had inspired him to join the Ten Guards so many years ago.
Some malaise, some miasma of gentle discontent draped over
the old man’s shoulders, as he remembered one woman who would never see that
tower again. He glanced to one side, at the cart that held her silver-laced
armor. Armor crafted by Lorith, the greatest godsmith to ever step into the
White Walls.
Olrec said, “Ya seem ter’ve moved past Milady’s passing right
quickly, Naya.”
Sister Belmont turned, and revealed the soft smile on her
weathered face. She said, “It wouldn’t do to grieve, when a Sister of Aca falls
in her service.”
Olrec smiled sadly.
“... Good. Good girl.”
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