Inability

The boy stares at him with the intensity of panther stalking its prey and he can't help but look, just once, to see who would be so daring; wouldn't you?

Kain was the heir of this shrine, the entire order, everyone knew that when he first made his way into the building, before his predecessor declared it, before anyone thought it might be her last years, before his training was finished, even before he joined. To those concerned with power and money, it felt like a gyp: how could he possibly deserve it? Among the youngest members, once-heir to a textile fortune, it had to be rigged. Of course, what they forgot to consider is the fact that there is no reason for underhanded tactics; the shrine had little to offer but healing.

Again, he was back again; what was it with this kid? Even the most devout didn't come everyday, much less come every day and sit perfectly still for hours.

As a rule, priestly duties were a little demanding and occasionally overwhelming. Above all else, the head priest had to say a few words every morning, uplifting whatever meager audience he might have. Of course, it goes without saying that Fridays and Saturdays were near empty. Just about anyone would rather be partying, or preparing to party, than listen to some man bless their day: they could do that just fine by themselves, thank you. Nevertheless, without fail, he stood up there, words a little different everyday, but similar enough to put himself to sleep. After that, however, you could get down off that podium and do whatever you wanted, for the next hour anyway. Being dedicated as he was, Kain would spend those precious extra sixty minutes in the shrine, should any individual need his sage counseling.

Saturday, what would he do with his extra hour? No one was here except for that strange robed boy and Kain felt that it might be best to leave while you're ahead.

People came looking for him, constantly, and he knew that his time spent helping them was never wasted. He could be at the market, visiting another guild, taking a stroll, but no matter, they always found him, with seemingly little effort. What should the stressed housewife do to make her life more fulfilling? How could the pious husband convince his wife to come to church? What sort of remedies would he suggest for a headache? A few strange birds even came to ask him about their clothing choices, as if he ever showed an ounce of fashion sense outside of his Olacion garb. He didn't mind, though, these people were why he took this position and surely the only reason he attained it. No, not a minute was wasted when dealing with them.

But this young man unsettled him, made him prepared to bolt back to his room for a moment's peace. By the time he made the unprecedented decision to depart, it was only a few seconds too late.

He never really thought that a bodyguard might be useful and in every circumstance so far, he was absolutely correct. Achilles was friendly enough, to him, and actually doted on him a bit, as if he was a baby brother. Even so, though he'd never admit it, Kain suffered a loss of privacy, and with that, a loss of sanity. After the first year, with Achilles at his heel every hour, save for showers and sleep, Kain made the decision to allow him Friday evenings and Saturdays off duty. And anyone who knows Achilles would know that this didn't go over well to begin with; however, by now, he was taking full advantage of this precious downtime.

In less than thirty seconds, Kain was regretting his allowance for Achilles: it would help right now, as the boy grabbed his hand, keeping him in place, so he could stand on his tiptoes and whisper into Kain's ear, "You know, sometimes it just feels better to give in."

His life before this, his life in a well-to-do family, he tried to forget, like it would cheapen his life now. Fifteen, he was fifteen when his family visited the shrine, a rare occurrence, and even then simply a token appearance. After you donate a sum that was near any average person's yearly salary, it was only polite to visit, to seem even more generous and charitable. In true parently fashion, they made sure to drag their son with them, attractive heir to a massive fortune, and flaunted him: no one could be sure where he got those looks, since his parents looked rather more like pigs than anything human. After sulking all the way to Olacion, once Kain made it in the door, he was awed, amazed, and once he spoke to the head priest, he was completely enthralled and entirely sure this was the place for him to spend his years.

"E-excuse me?" he stuttered, completely astounded by the other's words, not at all what he was expecting, though it certainly explained his previous discomfort. "I am not sure I grasp your meaning."

Polite never entered into Kain's vocabulary, not until that 'fateful' day. When you had money, looks, and a good amount of smarts, there were precious few incidents where you had to charm your way out of a situation. The next day his parents woke up to find a new boy in their household, honestly smiling, using full sentences, the whole package. Within a week, sadly, their upgraded son requested that he be allowed to study at Olacion.

"I've been watching you, I'm sure you know…" Apparently coherent conversations were not interesting enough for this boy, and Kain didn't like playing the 'figure out where this is going' game.

Ever since he started training at Olacion, he had done everything, within reason, to hide his face. All his life his pride stemmed from his stately features and that was something he couldn't afford anymore. Pride became a foreign concept and his past pride became his current shame. Easily remedied, however, since being a part of a religious order didn't exactly make you a celebrity, so hiding your face in a small corner of the building, scrubbing floors is not a feat by any means. Until you become the high priest that is, when even a giant hat and granny glasses haven't managed to disguise your features well enough.

Flustered, Kain flipped through his brain, looking for the file titled: "Appropriate Response to Stalker Speak", and when he found that it had gone missing, he just stood there, gaping, leaving plenty of room for our mystery mage to grab him by the robes and yank his face down for a messy kiss.

Kain had kissed people before, yes, before the great conversion of his teens, and was no stranger to being kissed. Since the conversion, however, through no small effort on his part, he avoided situations where even word could come up. Kissing was much like his face: pride turned to shame once his new life started. After years of living in a world where such desires weren't mentioned, he had nearly forgotten they existed.

Until this boy decided that he needed a refresher. Once the young man pulled away, he properly introduced himself, pointing to his face, "Felix," then mumbled a thoughtful, "Isn't there a confession box somewhere around here?"

Still unable to find words, Kain let himself be dragged by a boy, to do only Felix knows what in a holy place, but, honestly, wouldn't you?

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That's right. I went there. Achilles' heel pun. It was mostly on accident. Mostly.

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