Shel felt the sharp point of the halberd dig into his side, cutting through the thick canvas cloth of his shirt. The armored man that held him by the shoulder looked even larger close up. Shel peered through the armored man’s helmet and saw a few days growth of beard with graying edges on his chin. His teeth were large and yellowed, and his breathe smelled of fish. He eyes were clear and his forearms well muscled. The rest of his body was hidden by his armor.

“Well, boy,” the man said. “I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful story to share with us.” The man waved away the guard with the halberd and placed his other gauntleted hand on Shel’s other shoulder, forcing him to look up into the armored man’s face. The heavily armored arms weighed down on Shel’s shoulders, and he felt his feet sink deeper into the mud. Except for a slight squeezing pressure, the armored man did not apply any downward force. Shel couldn’t imagine carrying that much armor around on his arms.

Excuses passed through Shel’s head faster than he could examine them. He could not concentrate on any one excuse, as they blended altogether in a way that made him think of only emptiness, as if having too many options floating about his head was the same as having no discernable options. He heard himself babbling, but could not understand what he was saying, as if he Shel watched his self as it stood at the mercy of the armored man from a safe distance. No words explaining what he had been doing spying on the priest came to mind. Shel tried to think about everything Audrel and Samuel had told him about the Church, but all he could think of were the terrible wars, kidnapping, and politics he heard on the street.

It was then Shel thought about Peula. He felt the discipline of truth weigh down almost as strongly on his shoulders as the armored man’s arms. Even so, he formed the words careful, tasting them in his mouth, before sprouting them forth. “I was worried about Peula,” Shel finally said, his thought coalescing on some aspect of the truth of his statement. He admitted to himself that he was worried for Peula in a way. He did not take the time to examine the veracity of his statement. Even if it violated one of Audrel’s stupid disciplines, he did not think this was the time to worry on that small fact. He felt the armored man’s gauntlets squeeze tighter on his shoulder.

“Worried about old Peula?” the armored man asked. “I find that hard to believe. I didn’t think boys of your age worried much about old ladies. Unless, of course, old Peula is somehow related to you?” Shel’s face must have been answer enough for the armored man because he went on before Shel could respond. “I guess not. It is good for Peula that she did not hold back such secrets from us,” the armored man mused, almost to himself.

There was a small knock on the door and Shel and the armored man turned and looked through the bubbled glass. The priest stood at the doorway and waved to the armored man. The glass distorted the priest, and her black robe seemed rounded at the wrong places. Her arm, which waved with a “come here” motion, appeared to change shape and size as it moved through the different parts of the glass. The iron chain with the triangular symbol maintained its proper shape, however, regardless of the distortion in the part of glass it moved through. The armored man kept his arms on Shel’s shoulders and moved him until Shel and the armored man’s body was clear of the door.

“Open the door, please,” the armored man said, and the priest pushed the door open. She stood in the doorway and measured Shel, looking him up and down, as a horse trader examines a new herd. Shel could see Peula still kneeling on the floor a few paces behind the door.

“There’s something about the boy,” the priest said. “I felt something strange when I was with Peula. Bring him inside.”

“Are you sure you felt something from this boy? When I snuck around to see what caused the noise, I saw him peeking in through the window. I think him a spy for either the Empress or the governors, and I’m more than interested in knowing who he is working for and what he was told to watch out for. There is too much activity in town already, and I feel we might have overstayed our welcome.”

The priest laughed and waved him off. “I don’t think we ever received our proper welcome. But it is not that,” she said. “I felt something coming from this direction when I was blessing Peula. It was almost as if something was reaching out to me.”

“Do you think he’s the one?”

“It’s very doubtful. He has nothing of the Father in him. But that doesn’t mean the church doesn’t have a use for someone like him, assuming he is what I think he is.”

The armored man nodded in agreement and led Shel through the backdoor. Shel did not understand what they were talking about, but he decided whatever it was, he did not want to have any more part in it. Once he was inside the house, he decided he had to make a break for it. He shrugged his shoulders, trying to create a bit of room to twist his neck free. His plan was to make a run for the front door where he hoped to attract the attention of the governor’s guards he had seen mulling outside. He was not sure whether they would be willing to intercede, especially on his behalf—the governor’s guards always seemed more interested in assailing children than helping them or attending to their safety—but he could not think of anything else to do.

He looked to Peula, hopeful that she would be of help, but she stayed kneeling with her forehead touching the floor. She did not look up as Shel entered the room, and he doubted, even if she did see who they had caught, that she would be willing to go against the Church’s wishes and help Shel, especially after he had seen what the Church had offered in exchange for her help.

The armored man guided Shel inside and directed him until he stood in front of the priest. Shel tried to twist free of the armored man, but before he did, he felt a cold shock as the priest placed both of her hand to the sides of his head. His thoughts of escape vanished along with all other thoughts from his mind. It was not like the vacancy he had felt before when he was unable to come up with an excuse for his peeping. The emptiness instead felt like his head had been frozen. The thoughts left his mind slowly and he watched in bewilderment as they were chased from his head by something cold and slimy, which seemed to crawl through his head. At some point the cold and slimy thing butted against a soft boundary. His thoughts were just impressions, and he could not think of what they meant or what the boundary might have been.

“Ah, he is one, a strange one at that,” the priest said, her tone was somewhat satisfied and excited but at the same time cautious. “It’s more interesting that I would have expected. Someone has shielded him. The shield is old and must have been cast when he was very young. It still holds but it feels like it is growing ragged along its edges, as if it has begun to unravel from the outside in. There is great strength in this one. Great strength.”

“Are you sure he is not who we are looking for?” the armored man asked. At the mention of strength, he had drawn a dagger from his belt and held it to Shel’s belly, the point close to his belly button. “The Father told us he would have great strength.”

The priest shook her head. “I do not know. It could be him, but then why would he be shielded and by whom?”

“Can you redo the shield,” the armored man asked, he had let Shel go when the priest laid her hand on Shel’s forehead. He stood next to Shel and the priest, and radiated the same excitement as the priest had when she first proclaimed that Shel was one, whatever that meant.

“I can’t touch the shield,” the priest said. “The weave is beyond my skills. I’m afraid if I touch it, it will crack and whatever was penned up within the boy will be released. I’m afraid if it does, he will burn himself out without the support and knowledge he would gain through the disciplines. It’s best to leave the shield in place and take the boy back with us.”

“You know we can’t do that,” the armored man said. He sounded angry and frustrated. The hand holding the dagger to Shel’s belly shook, and Shel tried not to breathe out and risk the armored man drawing blood. “The governor’s men would never allow us to leave with the boy. I doubt we could leave this house with the boy in tow without a fight that we will not win.”

The priest was silent as if in deep thought. “I trust you as always in these matters. There are other ways. We could leave the boy in Varis. It will take many more years before the shield unwinds itself. We will have plenty of time to set watches and ensure that he grows to understand what he has and who he will serve.”

“You will place a compulsion on the boy?”

“Yes. It will be a slight one. I’m afraid that if whoever set the shield on the boy is still around, he will notice the compulsion and stop the boy from obeying. It is very strange that we ran into this boy with the Empress’s men in town. Things are happening that I cannot explain. We must seek out the madmen to consult on the future. I need to know more of what is happening.”

“And we must report back to the Father on our findings.”

“That goes without stating. We have been too long away from the Church. We must let this boy develop through the shield. Whoever weaved it, must have understood his powers better than I do. I just hope that the shield will unweave slow enough to contain his powers long enough for him to have a chance to control them.”

“Peula, attend us,” the armored man said. Peula stood up slowly, her back taking time to unfold, and stood between the armored man and the priest, who still held Shel between her hands.

“This boy will attend you often, Peula. You will welcome him and befriend him. Take him in when he visits and teach him the ways of the Church. He will be your most important mission, more important than the search for the child. He will feel compelled to visit you at least weekly. I expect that compulsion to increase over time. You must allow him to visit, even encourage him to. It will be your job to learn everything about him and his family, and to watch him very closely. Send me pigeons on his progress. We will visit again soon. The boy will remember none of this, and tell him nothing of what has happened here.”

Peula bowed. “I will do as you request, your holiness. I only want to serve, and the boy will learn to serve with me. Leave him to me and when you return he will be as I am: the Church’s servant.”

With the priest’s hand still against Shel’s head, he saw everything go dark. With his mind empty, he did not think whether this was natural or strange. He accepted it as he had accepted everything that had occurred since the priest touched his forehead.

Word count: 2,036

Words remaining: 34,442

Caffeination: Tall mocha.

Feeling: Terrible. Today was a forced day. I don’t like how it turned out or what happened. It does not go with what I thought should happen, and ruins a few parts I had planned. After a late start, I started pushing out the words to meet the goal. About halfway through, I had to go back and rewrite large parts of today’s entry, filling in details to grow the word count. I don’t like doing it, but on days like today, where everything I type seems stilted and over calculated, I don’t know what else to do, besides, of course, calling it a night and giving up, which is not in my constitution.

I spent dinner scratching notes on what will happen over the next five days or so, but I still have no idea what will happen after they leave Varis. I keep jotting down plenty of ideas for the rewrite (at least for these early parts), but my mind empties when I look further into the future. I feel like I’m trying to read ahead in the chess board more than five moves, and I can’t do it. (Damn, my English is great today.)