Part II: Serra, who silently seeks solace (sort of)
- O -
The wheels of the caravan rattled along the uneven ground. Renault sat inside one of the wagons as usual, immersing himself in meditation. With every bump he became slightly more perturbed, until at last he opened one eye and sighed. When at last he realized he could not sleep in such bumpy terrain, he sighed and began to rub his chin. Just as he realized it might be time to shave, he heard a thump at the entrance of the wagon as a young girl jumped semi-heroically in, landing on her feet with no shortage of flair for the dramatic.
"Ah! Elder bishop!"
"Mm?" Renault turned his head up. "Are you, perchance…one of Elimine's own?"
The girl nodded cheerfully. She wore a cleric's modest white habit and had wonderfully expressive pink hair, the kind of color that just didn't exist outside of the human sphere. "Of course, Your Excellency!" she said. "I am a cleric of the graceful Saint Elimine, none other!"
"So it would seem," said Renault. He had expected as much, but the moment the girl spoke, the less sure he was of her apparent self-indulgent piety. Either way, now he was along for the ride. The bumpy ride. "What is it you have come to see me for, my child?"
"Oh, I just wanted to see if the rumors were true," she said, popping about the room and nearly trampling some of the fruit in the wagon underfoot. Renault clandestinely pushed a pile of fruit aside, the one that he expected to eat, and prayed to Elimine that Serra at least wouldn't squish those.
"Er…rumors?"
"Of course! I had heard that there was a strapping young male bishop of Elimine joined our company!"
"Oh. I…see," Renault replied. "Well, I am a bishop, I suppose. Though I don't…well, perhaps I am not the most pious of souls, but"
"I had heard this bishop was an astoundingly beautiful young man," Serra interrupted, looking around the room and simply threatening to burst with an…inhuman glee. "Another one! How lucky can a cute young cleric be? Hee hee! You wouldn't happen to have seen him, would you? I know we of our Order stick together. Especially the boys! One wouldn't think to look for boys in the Order, but oooh! I don't know about that; some of the handsomest boys I've met have come looking to meet Miss Elimine!"
Renault didn't rightly know what to say. That he would call their Saint and savior "Miss" mystified him, for one, but that a person like this could simply exist was enough to boggle his mind. His jaw, in fact, fell agape. "Well…erm…perhaps there has been another practitioner come to us, but as for me…I daresay my 'glory years' have passed me by, so…"
"Oh," Serra said, clearly disappointed. "You don't know, then? I'm sorry, he must not have joined with you. Unless…" Serra stood poised in the frame of the wagon, turning her head this way and that. Curious, she approached the bishop like a cat cornering a mouse: curiously predatory. She sized him up, idly sniffed at the air, put a hand in front of his face, and generally used what Renault assumed was some 'girl-cleric-super-sense'.
"They weren't talking about…no…could they? Were they? Talking about…" Serra said, voice trailing off. She knelt before Renault with a pensive look. "…you? Your Excellency? Were they?"
Renault opened his mouth to speak, but was battered down.
"Oh. Oh! Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry!" Serra blurted, rising to her feet only to bow, and again, and again. "Your Great Grace Excellency, Father, I'm sorry!" She fell to her knees and clasped her hands. "Please forgive me! I didn't mean any disrespect, elder bishop, really! Please don't excommunicate me, pleeeeeeeease!"
"Ah, it is…alright?" Renault shrugged. "I have neither the desire nor the authority to excommunicate you. Really, I shouldn't be preaching of Elimine at all after all I've seen, but here I am.
"It's just, I was really hoping it would be another cute boy; not to say you aren't one!" Serra added, waving her hands in front of her. "For a man of, um, your age, you are quite handsome. Just, you're not a- er, I mean…well, I was just really, really, really hoping it would be a y-um…oh, I'm sorry, Father! Just making things worse, huh? Ehehe..."
"Eh." Renault tried to seem less flabbergasted than he truly was, which was proving significantly more difficult than he would have imagined. "I don't suppose you'd…like to confess something? Or…something?"
"Oh…oh! Um…well…can I ask you a question?"
"You just did."
"Oh. Um, I mean-"
"I was jesting," Renault said. He didn't do it often: maybe this was why. "Please, continue."
It's going to be a long day.
"Well, what I wanted to ask was…can you tell me how I'm doing as a cleric? I mean, you know…I try to be a pious person, I always try to say my prayers to the good Saint, but I always end up perilously perceptively per-…perpiculated!"
Renault sighed.
A long, long, long, long day.
"I don't know how you are doing as a cleric. I have never seen you before. In fact, I don't even know your name."
"Oh, Father!" Serra said, her face upset, looking as though she wanted to fling her arms around the old man and squeeze. Squeeze. "I'm so discouraged."
"…I don't suppose you'd tell me why?"
"Why?" Serra parroted. "Because I don't even know your name yet!"
What? I just asked her what her name wa- oh, gracious Elimine…
"My name is Renault."
"Renault? What a great name!" Serra serenaded. "That's a great name! What a nice name."
"As I'm sure yours is as well, but I don't see how that's at all relevant." Renault said, taking an apple and munching on it. Enthusiastic, but nice. I…think.
"Well, you know… 'respect thy elders', right? I always pray for my elders whenever I pray…even when I go out shopping for a hip new habit…and when I go to eat…or when I lay me down to sleep...I always never forget to pray for my elders!"
Among various other things, Renault wondered at the verity of that statement.
"But, Father…" Serra said, looking up into his face. "Um…what was your name again?"
"Renault."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Father Renault! I'm terrible with names, really- oh, has anyone told you how nice that name is? Anyway, um…I try to be…what was it…oh! I try to be a good cleric, but it's sooooo annoying having to say my prayers all the time."
Renault scratched his (surely graying) hair. "Well, as long as you show your devotion and faith" -the wagon went 'ka-rump!'- "to Elimine in other ways, you should be-"
"Oh!" Serra blurted, a Divine-bulb lighting above her head. Figuratively speaking. "And, I think Saint Elimine is great and all, but…you know…you do know, right?"
"Er…know what now?" Renault shrugged again. Sheepishly.
"It's because she's so graceful and beautiful and elegant and so annoyingly omnipotent! The idea of such a beautiful woman looking down on us really annoys me. Really, I'm beautiful too! People like me. I mean, of course they do. But I can't be that much less perfect, right?"
Not for the first time, Renault was struck speechless. Serra excused herself, saying she was growing flustered. As if she were the only one. Renault simply sat there silently, looking off blankly into space for quite a time.
Gracious Elimine, give me strength. Guide me through these…times of peril. Though by now you're probably as nonplussed as I am.
- O-
The next day was uneventful for Father Renault. The morning passed without much of interest. The caravan seemed to be nearing their destination, but from Merlinus's lamenting in the wagon ahead, Renault deduced they had lost their way and had been set back. Renault was slowly growing tired of the ranting: "Hyaaah! Lord Eliwood and Lord Hector are just too proud to get directions. Surely good folks as them could find someone who knows the way! Didn't we go there before, anyway? Hyaaaaaah~!"
After the passing of the morning and afternoon, the dusk came, as the bishop knew it would. Renault leaned against the wall of the cavern, finishing a piece of fruit and a leg of roast and sighing.
"Whatever happened to that girl from the other day?" he wondered, and too late he realized what a bad idea that was.
He was violently tossed from his quiet introspection when said girl burst into his wagon, just as enthusiastically as she had the first time.
"Good morning, Father…Father! Father, are you awake?"
Renault opened his eyes, hands instinctively reaching for the now empty notch on his belt. "Yes, yes, I am, child. And, isn't it a little late to be-"
"Evening! It's evening now. And, I have something important to say."
Renault cocked an eyebrow. "Truly? Tell me, if you want."
"Well…I'm afraid…that no one here…"
"Yes?"
"…likes me."
Renault sat up and motioned for Serra to sit. She did. "I see," he said. "What would possibly cause you to think that, my child?"
"Well, I mean…everyone around me just seems so annoyed with me, and I don't know why!" She looked over at Renault with pleading eyes, her hands crossed and her fingers playing with one another. Little creatures chirped in the brisk night. Her glance skirted from the bishop's face to the open night air, and emotion tugged at her face. "I mean, I don't try to be annoying. I mean, who tries to be annoying? But…everyone just seems to think I'm a bother."
"Er…well…"
"You don't think me a bother, do you, Father Renault?" Serra leaned in closer, her eyes beady and large.
Saint Elimine, Renault said as he sat there, listening, you preach truth and kindness…but what if the two things are mutually exclusive?
"Well, er…what do you think of yourself, child?"
"Well, I'm the center of attention! I always have been! People respect me, and fear me, and sometimes hate me out of spite, but no one is ever annoyed with me! It's just what girls do, isn't it? I thought so, anyway. Now, I don't know."
"Don't know?
"Yeah!" Serra said, sitting back, her face suddenly a great deal more perplexed. "I think…I think that I'm a beautiful girl, of course! I always take the time to comb and fix my hair, I wash my hair in the springs, and- and I have a great fas-fashion sense, and…and I…I'm cute, and I…you know, people want to be like me! And around me! Since I was little, I've always had tons of...t-tons..." She bit her lips and choked over her words. "Oh, bishop, I'm…I'm alone! All alone! No one wants me!"
Renault folded her arms and watched as Serra sat, arms around her knees, rocking forwards and back, sobbing. Alone. The word cut like a knife. They could not have been less alike, but that one word struck him as familiarly as any.
Alone? Alone...
"Child…be well.. It's all right. Mourn for yourself if you must. Show your sadness, your grief. Let it leave you forever." God knows, I've mourned plenty. Should I mourn for her as I have mourned my own path? Is there anything there left for me to mourn?
Serra sat sobbing, and Renault lamented. Again, there were so many questions, and he had no answers. And this time, it hurt more than just himself.
- O -
Renault woke the following day wanting for sleep. He leaned against the side of the wagon, half-heartedly eating a piece of fruit (something purple, whatever it was). The world was misted over today, and he heard the every thump of the wagon's movement today. Thump thump, it intruded upon his thoughts and muddled them further. He found himself thinking more and more about the poor, crying little girl that haunted him, kept him awake. Some nights, the kills of his old conquests rushed back and kept him cold and sweaty upon waking; at least then he could say he awoke with a night of sleep tucked in his robes. Now…
There was movement at the flap of the wagon, and so Renault's head and heart leapt up. A mustached man showed himself.
"Ah, Bishop!"
"Oh…" Renault looked around. "Ahhh…yes?"
"Are you alright?" Merlinus asked, looking at the fruit store Renault had remaining.
Renault paused. "I am…fine, thank you."
"Ahhhh hmmm…I see. Well, are you quite sure? You look like you've seen a ghost!"
Not this time. "No, I'm fine. Just a bit fatigued."
"Ah, of course, from all the sitting!" Merlinus said, turning away, chuckling and muttering softly to himself: "Ha ha, 'all the sitting', oh ho…ha ha…"
The morning could have drawn thin and the elder bishop wouldn't have known. Sitting alone, he stared off at the wall, but in his mind he peered into the depths of the starry sky, where no meaning was fit for the mouths of men. Somewhere out there, a message: the meaning to every life, the answer to every question, the solution to every problem. Renault reached a weathered hand out and it was like he was a child reaching out for the jar on the top shelf, so distant and unattainable.
His fingers came down grasping air. He was at someone or something's mercy, after all those years of being the merciless. His face and his shoulders were formally introduced to the floor of the wagon and he forgot where he was going.
A hand shook him.
"Father…Father Renault! Oh, wake up! Are you alright?"
Renault bolted upright. "Ah! Huh, huh…what…what happened?"
Serra knelt over Renault as he sat up, looked around. "Were you asleep, elder?" she asked.
"Huh? Asleep?" Why now, God? Is this the time to be calling me?"Er, ye- ah…I don't know, actually"-
"Oh, thank Elimine! I was scared! I thought something was really wrong!"
Renault sat against the wall and shook his head. "Is there something you wanted to see me for?"
"Um…actually, there is. I…wanted to thank you for yesterday."
"…eh?" I didn't…do anything…did I?
"You…you're the only one who would even consider listening to me…" Serra said, her arms folded and her head bowed just a bit. "Everyone else would just walk away when I started babbling about problems, but you listened to me…thank you. You know, it's hard to talk about...you know...feelings. And no one else really, really cares, so."
"Well, I am a bishop. It is my duty to listen to your confessions."
"But you listened! You didn't…send me away, or say I was annoying or unimportant…"
"No, I couldn't." Renault swallowed and shut his eyes. "I couldn't turn away anyone in their time of need…not anymore, I couldn't."
"And…and you think I'm kind!" Serra said, now on the verge of tears, but she smiled. "Thank you! Isn't it true that I'm beautiful?"
"Yes? Yes, of course. Stop worrying."
"See?" A tear rolled down her cheek. "And it's okay if you think I'm totally weak and vain; you're not a cute boy or one of the other girls, so who cares what you think of me, really. So they'll never know, and Your Excellency certainly wouldn't tell anyone else, of course!"
"R-Right. As you will. Your logic does have a strange bit of sense. A very strange bit of logical sense, yes."
Serra smiled, chuckled, laughed. "Hee hee…thank you, Father! I can't tell you how much better I feel. Maybe if I found some new herbs to make a perfume out of! Or a new dress! Ooh, here I go then!"
"Child, wait!"
She stopped again, turned around again, and her pink hair flapped behind her again. "Mm-hmm?"
Renault put a hand to his head. "Er, I still don't know your name."
Serra giggled. "That'll just be ourrr little secret," she said, and disappeared as dramatically as she had appeared.
"Our little secret?" Renault wondered, alone again. He threw his arms up in frustration. "But I don't even know your-oh, never mind."