threadbare
The cathedral is quiet this early in the morning, peaceful in a way it isn’t when it’s bustling with locals, students and clergy alike. Mercedes doesn’t mind the latter, there’s something so joyful about seeing people gathered here together. Just after sunrise however, there’s a particular stillness that makes her prayers feel more intimate. That her communion is with the goddess alone.
After a few minutes of giving her daily thanks, Mercedes rose to her feet. There were plenty of chores to be getting on with today. As she makes to leave, she notices an unfamiliar presence. A young man, sat in silence. The first thing she notices is the fraying of his sleeves, something she can fix in a jiffy. The second is the mask and it leaves her feeling winded, just for a moment.
He is clearly neither Jeritza nor her dear, sweet Emile but she finds she can’t turn away. Mercedes finds herself pulled in like a marionette on a string. He is a stranger. He is not her brother but the similarity goes deeper than just the mask. There’s something about him, in his aura. She can almost feel the sorrow clinging to him and so she sits beside him, waiting for his attention to turn to her.
“Good morning,” Mercedes is all honeyed smiles as she regards him thoughtfully. The cleric points to his sleeve before pulling out a tiny sewing kit she kept in her bag for times like this. “I haven’t seen you here before. My name is Mercedes. Would you allow me to fix that for you?”
@valaskjlf