Exile is the first step toward Home.

Wisdom of the Ancients, Book 1

The first thing they did when the four did when they reached Valetta as the evening was nearing was to crash at their usual inn. Not the fancy version from three days ago, but their usual place. Cheap, with tiny rooms, straw mattresses, and barely any dining facilities, but disgustingly familiar.

After being run out of what Johanna still thought of as her “home”, that piece of solidity was welcome. They didn’t even think about eating, simply getting a stiff liquor shot, which led to another, and another, before Laura finally said that they all needed a real sleep, not drinks until they passed out in the common room.

Johanna grudgingly acknowledged the wisdom, and they moved up toward their rooms. Laura managed to look almost peachy as she ushered Peter into their room, but Tom crashed on the small mattress, and she curled next to him, briefly wondering how their lives could have turned to unfit fertilizer, before she finally sighed, leaving the worries for tomorrow.

Sleep eluded Johanna. Despite the reassuring embrace of Tom, she couldn’t sink in the comforting depths of night, the massed people of Anasta, ready for violence, still seared in her mind.

Yet, she must have slept because Tom was now trying to disentangle himself from her carefully, and there were rays of light playing on the wall through the slits of the window shutters. They embraced briefly before he rushed out of the room toward the shared toilets of the floor.

The light breakfast served at the Eastwest inn was not helping much to better the mood. Johanna – just like her friends – was still processing the catastrophe. She knew mana frightened people, but she’d obviously underestimated how much. Those farmers were her kind. Her people. She’d grown up among them, and for a lot of them so did they. She knew every household there, played with most of the kids.

“Light a pike on fire and they hate you.”

“They did,” Tom said, and she realized she’d spoken aloud.

“It’s easy. They didn’t turn on you.”

“Did glower a lot at me, though.”

“Really?”

“Maybe thought I was the one who turned you into a fire sorceress. I don’t know,” Tom said.

“If you think that’s bad… father was trying to get me to dump Laura. Saying I was spared the fate of you, and I should abandon you before ‘worst came to be’,” Peter said.

Laura squeezed his hand, and the diminutive Donnall smiled back at her.

“They didn’t think you were Changed?” Johanna asked.

“It’s not as obvious. Even muscleman here shows unnatural running, before he caves skulls. But for me? I mean, you don’t see me sneaking around, and you expect someone small and nimble like me to avoid getting gored at the last moment. And hitting lucky, well, it’s luck.”

The uncomprehending look from Johanna and Tom rushed him to explain further.

“I wasn’t sure. I talked it with Laura, of course, but not you two yet. It seems my aim is… better.”

“Define better,” Johanna asked.

“Like when you rush a beast, Tom? You said you felt barely in control of your own legs when they worked overtime. It’s… kind of the same, maybe. When I aimed at those Lepuses, it was as if I was… correcting my aim most times. Hitting at the right spot, rather than hitting whatever I could push that spear at.”

Johanna was deep in thought after the explanation.

“So… it’s not just me. Or Laura. You also got… I don’t know, better? Yesterday?”

“Me too,” Tom added. “I know I wasn’t using a hammer on the first colony, but I did hit one Lepus with my fist during the defense, and it was much, much stronger than when we were on the road. I was breaking bone sometimes, but this time, I was breaking bones.”

“But why?” she asked.

“Maybe because we were facing a much larger danger?” Tom offered.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

She looked at her boyfriend, surprised by the suggestion.

“You say that as if… it was directed. Purposeful.”

“Don’t know. You tell me.”

She re-ran back in her mind’s eye all that had happened over the last week.

“I got fire immunity against that Canid.”

“And I could literally stitch you back together when that Lepus tried to rip you apart,” Laura said.

“Then, you got a fire spear the instant you stopped getting in close with the beasts. And Laura apparently frightens that mass of Lepuses when they got close and you couldn’t deal with them easily,” Tom added.

“Those Canids and Lepuses fights were not easy.”

“Manageable. With what we had at the time. The attack on Anasta wasn’t,” he insisted.

Johanna didn’t have any good counter. The thing was, it all made sense. Once they’d encountered that Skeleton on its chair, it was as if there was a hand on them, helping. Giving them magical tools.

Then she heard bells sounding from afar.

They weren’t that often in Valetta. And usually not on a Sunday. None of them were actually very much god-fearing. Johanna definitively wasn’t. After a discussion with schoolmistress Vanu, who spoke about the faith of her husband, and how many various creeds there were around – even hers was slightly different from what you’d find in Valetta, let alone the Tribulationists – she’d simply concluded that there was no way you’d be sure of anything. Yes, people agreed on a few basics, like Jesus and the bible. But when it came to his teachings?

“It’s service time,” she simply said.

The rest of them didn’t even seem surprised at all.

The church was almost full when the office began. They’d slipped into a side pew near the entrance, finding some room by chance. The congregation had almost certainly their usual sitting places for the office. They’d been there only three times before, mostly out of habit rather than actual piety.

The church itself was fairly large, although Johanna knew of two others in various parts of the city, and they held multiple services. But as they stayed in the inn close to this one, it was the one they’d used. Come to think of it, it would probably also be the closest to their future home.

The pastor stepped up and called upon the faithful, starting to read a passage from the Bible. It was a passage from Isaiah, which strangely resonated with Johanna’s current state of mind.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

As the pastor started his sermon, she found the words directly aimed at their predicament. While she found it hard to believe in anything, this was enough to remind her that there were, certainly, superior entities watching out this world. And maybe her. She did not think any of them was worthy of warranting the direct attention of the Lord, but… maybe they were.

Was the hidden hand giving them those abilities that of God himself? She found it hard to believe. As Laura said for herself, she was certainly no Saint, pushing the word of God to the World. And the Ancient skeleton was certainly no imagery of God she was familiar with.

As the office segued in a hymn, which all of them joined along with the congregation, Johanna found those questions still haunting her. She’d expected the religious office to soothe her worries, to provide her succor after the terrible rejection of Anasta. And it did. Yet, she was still plagued with questions, and she did not expect those to get an answer anytime soon.

After they all partook of communion, she found herself slightly restored. She might harbor her doubts about God’s plans, but the ritual of the church was soothing. She stood up as the first congregants started to leave. She didn’t know how much that had affected Tom or her friends, but coming to that service wasn’t a bad decision. She still felt emotionally drained by the shock of having her entire childhood home turn against her, but there was little she could do, but to forge on, as always.

Yet Tom surprised her.

“Should talk to the pastor.”

“Uh, why?”

“Maybe it’s time.”

She blinked, then realized what he was talking about.

“Vanu isn’t going to marry us, you mean.”

“We’re supposed to be married once we get a house. And now…”

The rest of the faithful filed out, while they stood to the side. As the church emptied, the Pastor noted their presence, and finally came around.

“Hello. I don’t think I’ve seen you before?”

“We’re not often there, Reverend. We’re actually from the farmside.”

“Ah. And what brings you here today?”

“We’re… we’re going to move in. Permanently.”

“Then I welcome you to Valetta. As you may have noticed, we have a much larger congregation than you’re probably used to. But all are good people, and you’ll know them in no time.”

Johanna smiled, then almost frowned. She hoped that Valetta would be more open to their abilities, more welcoming. But she was in no hurry to test that. However, there was a more innocuous question to be asked.

“We wanted to know about how to organize marriage in Valetta, though.”

“Oh? Did you run away because you’re all from the same village…”

“Oh, no. We’re from Anasta, Avon, and Virtu. But we’ve been thinking about that for over a year, and we wanted to wait until we settled here.”

“Ah, so you’re already settled.”

“Not yet. We have a house we want to purchase, but we still have got to finish that.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t prepare. Now, I have the next service to prepare but come to me on Monday, and we’ll start looking at a proper date and everything. Do you want it soon, or later in the year?”

“Soon, I think”, she said, looking at the rest, who all opined.

“Two marriages?” the Reverend asked.

“Yes. Do we need to schedule them separately?”

“Not an obligation. Although the last time, it was twins who wanted it that way. But as I said, come tomorrow, and we’ll settle all the details.”

Moore had long been an atheist. The last time he’d been in a church was when his sister had been married, and before that when he last said “No” to his parents, expecting them to push against a teenage caprice. Much to his surprise, they let it slide, when they had pushed against his burgeoning gaming habit.

Yet there was something soothing to be there along with Johanna, Tom, Peter, Laura, even by remote. Even without the slightest sound, the voice of the pastor missing. His memories from a decade ago filled his imagination, even just a hymnal as a guide while they followed it.

He still didn’t think his strange afterlife matched any gospel, any sacred belief he’d heard about. He had no one to pray to, he felt.

He could just be there behind them. Unseen, unheard.