#lighttakeyou

"I cannot see it sustained. Regardless, we have our missive. A perimeter check."

Dismas shrugs. Does it matter much here if it is? He doesn’t think so, but apparently Reynauld does despite his dislike for the man. Dismas won’t question it right now. 

THERE IS NO MORAL TO THIS STORY BUT THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING.

He settled into a creaking chair, the dice in front of him. He's either got the best luck or cheating dice with how he rolls. "Ahh. Thank you." Perhaps he could roll some dice for their fates? "I cannot see how you're calmed at this."

           “ dark intentions? nay, just a friendly match! the recruits do so all the time. ”

     leave him be, mathias had told him. they were to leave france in two days, their whole company. glory calls us east. don’t make a fool of yourself.

     in the eyes of the church, though, leon is a man grown. he can make his own decisions. he took his oaths, he bent his knee, he can do whatever he wants.

     what he wants is to test the boy who he’d heard all the rumors about. devil child, the boy who bites. he’d met a squire who swore up and down he’d lost a finger to him. he couldn’t be that bad.

     eyeing the dark-eyed, dark-haired boy before him -- the rumors may have held some sort of truth to them. in every vein that people said leon was an angel from on high, this boy had the look of evil on him. ( then again, leon didn’t believe a person was born evil. the boy could be helped. )

     they are almost of a height, from what leon can tell as he tosses the sword over. leon might be an inch or so higher, not by much, and reynauld has a good amount of muscle on him compared to leon’s lean grace.

     he hefts the blade in his own hand, a longsword more suited to the quick steps he preferred. greatswords were not his passion, but the boy before him? he hefted it easily, carried it like he was made to wield them.

      he’d make a fine knight yet.

“That would be unacceptable, but I appreciate your assistance.” What little it was, anyways.

"Aye. I would. Sit with us in our meditations."

Isaiah nods, lets the knight lead him. Meditations. Isaiah smiles. He hasn’t meditated with any brothers or sisters since his initiation and the first few months of his devotions. How nostalgic. He’d quickly found he felt more peace in the lash’s kiss against his skin. Still, the practice would do him good.