novelinnhs 107. To appease
107. To appease
Footsteps approached, first the novice pastors.
Three or four young men walked briskly and erratically, their robes rustling as they dragged on the damp stone slabs of the dungeon.
They chattered about something, their voices not loud, but as they bumped back and forth in the narrow dungeon corridors, they became a muffled buzzing sound.
Some said, "We'll be late for evening prayers tonight," while others said, "I wonder if we'll be punished by the higher-ups." Their tone carried a strange ease, as if nothing had happened.
Then came two intermediate priests carrying a stretcher. Their steps were much more steady, each step firm and even, as if they had measured the length of this road countless times.
The stretcher bobbed slightly on their shoulders, and just like when they arrived, it was completely empty.
The two intermediate priests remained expressionless, their gazes fixed straight ahead, neither looking to the left nor to the right.
Their lips were tightly pressed together, their chins taut in a hard arc. The dungeon torches cast flickering shadows on their faces, but those shadows seemed unable to shake the stone-like silence on their faces.
Eve walked in the middle.
She followed behind the stretcher, about three steps away.
Her steps were very light, as light as a falling leaf moving close to the ground, but each step was extremely difficult, as if the stone slabs under her feet had suddenly turned into a swamp.
Her head was slightly lowered, her gaze fixed on a corner of gray cloth peeking out from under the stretcher, her eyes unmoving.
Her hands hung at her sides, her fingers slightly curled, but not clenched into fists, nor gripping the hem of her skirt. They hung there half-open, like two small animals that didn't know where to put them.
She was walking, but her walking didn't feel like walking. It was more like a shell being pushed forward by something, with her soul left behind somewhere.
Edric walked last.
The old pastor was shaking a brass bell in his hand.
The copper bell was small, just the right size to be held in one hand. It was engraved with the emblem of the Church of Light, and its edges were polished to a shine. He rang the bell slowly and steadily, and with each turn of his wrist, the bell produced a clear, ringing sound.
Ding-dong.
Ding-dong.
The sound echoed through the dungeon corridors, passing through tightly closed iron doors and thick stone walls, seeping into every crevice like water.
The voice wasn't harsh; it was even quite gentle. But in this kind of place, the gentler the voice, the more unsettling it felt.
Xinlai walked at the front of the group.
He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the novice priests, over the intermediate priests, over Eve, and over Edric.
His gaze was so fast that it was almost a blink of an eye, but in that instant, he had already seen the expression on everyone's face.
He didn't stop or ask any questions.
Each step felt like driving a nail into a stone.
No one speaks.
Ding-dong, ding-dong.
The sound of the copper bells followed the procession closely, neither too close nor too far, like an invisible rope binding everyone together.
The group quickly left the dungeon.
……
……
Church of Light.
The path from the dungeon to the apothecary isn't long, but it involves crossing an open-air corridor and passing through a small courtyard.
The night wind blew in through the arched windows of the corridor, making the priests' robes flutter. Moonlight shone on the stone slabs, white as frost. The old oak tree in the courtyard swayed in the wind, its shadow shattering into fragments on the ground.
Xinlai didn't turn around until she entered the pharmacy and closed the door.
The pharmacy was small, with tall wooden cabinets on three walls, filled with bottles and jars.
Some jars are made of earthenware with a dark green glaze; others are made of glass, through which you can see the herbs or medicines inside.
In the center of the room stood a long wooden table with an oil lamp on it. The flame burned quietly inside a glass shade, illuminating the entire room with a warm glow. Near the window was a bench covered with a faded blanket.
The priests were dismissed.
The novice pastors left with a sigh of relief, while the intermediate pastors silently bowed and withdrew.
After the door closed, only Xinlai, Eve, and Edric remained in the apothecary.
Xinlai walked up to Eve, reached out, and gently lifted the bandage off her face.
The area under the bandage was completely wet.
Tears and herbal ointment mixed together, soaking the originally white linen cloth until it turned a murky grayish-yellow.
The sticky texture of the ointment made the bandage stick tightly to Eve's skin, and Xinlai had to be extra careful when lifting it, for fear of hurting her.
The face beneath the bandages was far worse than he had imagined.
Eve's eyes were so red and swollen that she could barely open them. Her upper and lower eyelids were swollen into a translucent pink, and her eyelashes were stuck together in clumps with tears. It took a lot of effort to blink.
The sides of her nose were red from the salt of her tears, and the redness spread all the way to her cheeks, as if she had been burned by something.
There were several deep bloodstains on her lips, some of which had scabbed over with dark red scabs, while others were still oozing fresh blood—the marks she had made by biting her lips.
She did not make a sound.
She has been biting on the bandage ever since she left the dungeon.
Instead of biting the bandage itself, he bit the edge of the gauze applied to his face.
The gauze was crumpled from being bitten by her teeth, and it was stained with blood. She swallowed all the sounds, not letting a single utterance escape her lips.
Xinlai reached out and wiped away the tear stains on her face with her thumb.
The ointment was sticky, and there were streaks of tears. His fingertips slid from the corner of her eye to her cheekbone, from her cheekbone to her nose, and from her nose to her chin.
He wiped very slowly and gently, as if he were wiping something fragile.
Each stroke used just the right amount of force, enough to neither hurt her nor damage her skin, but enough to remove the tears mixed with ointment.
"He's gone," Eve said.
The three words were so hoarse they were almost inaudible. The voice seemed to be squeezed out from the deepest part of his throat, with a rough, sandpaper-like texture.
After she finished speaking those three words, her lips were still trembling slightly, as if she wanted to say something more, but no sound came out.
Sinlai did not ask who "he" was.
He nodded, then gently pulled Eve into his arms.
His movements were slow, slow enough for Eve to dodge, but she didn't.
She buried her face in his chest, her hands initially hanging at her sides, then slowly raised after a few seconds, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt.
Finally, after leaving the dungeon, she let out her first cry.
It wasn't wailing or hysterical crying. It was a very suppressed and restrained cry, as if afraid that making too much noise would wake something.
The sound was muffled in the throat, cut into thin, intermittent breaths by the teeth and lips. It didn't sound like crying, but more like a drowning person desperately trying to breathe.
Her shoulders heaved violently, and with each heaving, her whole body trembled.
Her knuckles were white as she gripped Xinlai's clothes, her nails digging deep into the fabric, as if it were the only thing she could hold onto in her overwhelming sorrow.
She bit her lower lip, swallowing back the sobs bit by bit. Each time she swallowed, a faint sound, like a choking or swallowing, would come from her throat.
Xinlai gently patted her back.
The rhythm is steady and slow, like some ancient, wordless form of comfort.
His palm landed between her shoulder blades, each pat carrying just the right amount of weight—neither too heavy nor too light, like a caress.
It's a weight that feels real and reassuring.
His gaze passed over Eve's head and landed on Edric.
The old pastor stood by the window, his back to them.
Moonlight streamed in through the window, enveloping him in a silvery-white halo.