TKATP: A Coronation of Blood

Chapter VI: Salvador

The streets of Fiorá were not quiet at night.

Nor were they dark, for that matter. There were oil lamps everywhere, every street had dozens of them. Light was everything to Sersalvonians. One could simply not do without it.

Yet still, Salvador wore a hood and cloak, shielding his facial features from passersby. Better safe than sorry. It was a heavy rain cloak, nothing that would make him stand out.

He kept to himself, making his way to the outskirts of Fiorá, just outside the looming city walls. In the shadow of the rosestone walls, a cluster of slum houses hugged the walls, as close as they could possibly get. Those who could not pay the taxes in Fiorá were evicted, for the City of Lilies had no place for the filthy poor. But those who were evicted had nowhere to go, and so they built homes out of mud and wood and hugged the great rosestone walls.

Salvador had to use the sewers that ran past the city walls to slip outside. From there, he made his way to a neglected nunnery, but the walk was long, and gangs and thieves prowled the slums at night. He could hear rats, scuttling and scurrying away from his figure, leaving their feasts of dog carcasses.

He kept his sidesword loose in its sheath.

He was carrying a large bag, filled with Sersalvonian coins. They rattled and tinkled with every step he took. The people in the alleyways did not miss it either. They hadn't attacked him yet because of the blade he wore but it was only a matter of time...

Salvador managed to rush inside the nunnery, Sancta Quiterria's Haven. Oil lamps and candles dimly illuminated the lonely halls of the nunnery. Most of the sisters were asleep, they're schedules demanded they wake up early every morning to pray to the Twelve Archangels before starting their days.

"Who goes there?" called out a nun. Her voice echoing off the damp walls.

"It is I," Salvador called back.

Hesitation. "The Gifter?"

"Yes."

The nun approached him, wearing the deep purples of Iusphiel. An Acolyte of Justice. Her eyes fell upon the bag of coins Salvador held over his shoulder and for a second, they brightened.

But her face soon fell with disappointment.

"Is this... all you have?" she mumbled. It was a little less than fifty gold corounem supplemented by some silver mercantii and copper aestarii. For one lowborn, it was a lot.

But not for a nunnery that served as a shelter and a hospital.

Salvador could not escape the feeling of failure that followed. "My job went back. This is all I have," he said, defensive.

The nun shook her head. "It's just..." Not as much as you usually bring, Salvador finished for her.

He nodded. "I know, but it was the best I could do. There are a dozen other churches within the city that I could've gone to... but I didn't. Because I know you do real work here... good work..." He sighed. "I... I'll come back next time with double. I'll make it up..."

The nun seemed to wake up from the shock and shook herself. A look of shame crossed her face. "Forgive me, Gifter. And may Larabiel chastise me." The angel of gratitude, not one of the Twelve but important nonetheless. She closed the bag. "You are too kind. And I beg again that you forgive me of my greed."

Salvador shook his head. "Do not worry. It was I, who failed." He left without another word.

As he walked the muddy streets back to the rosestone walls, he noticed that the people in the alleys had relaxed. On edge, but not aggressive. They had seen him go into the nunnery. They knew who he was. They all relied on it.