The Voice of God
They had made their offer. Twenty two of them, after replenishing their blood and later discarding the bodies on a roaring fire. The stench of charred flesh clung to their clothes, but it was a good thing to be reminded of their duties. To serve. To judge. To do God's bidding.
The others had mostly retreated back up into the rafters, only two or three left sitting in the pews, talking in whispers and Dana staying diligently at Valentine's side. The blond youth stood before the big cross that bore his saviour, praying in hasty whispers and had been for the past thirty minutes. There were moments of silence and moments in which he answered, evoking in Dana, the dark haired beauty beside him, to exclaim gentle hallelujahs.
It was when Dana felt it, that she extended a feeble arm and softly touched Valentine on the shoulder. The blonde finished his prayer, opened his eyes and averted his gaze from Jesus to Dana. "Do you feel that?" Dana said softly, voice soft as a bell. "I do." Valentine answered calmly, putting his hand over hers."It is the Ancient that resides in Britain. Let him come." he then said quite pragmatically, lifting his hands off of Dana's and cueing her to let go of him. "He is welcome." @rhoshamandes
