Children of the Eternal

XX

Survivors stayed silent.

That cruel lesson had kept Matthew alive for his short fifteen years. His mother's outspoken friends, the ones who shared her faith, always disappeared. There were fearless writers who chronicled the Sacred State's injustices and eventually their names no longer appeared in the newspaper.

Matthew hated that he was used to his world falling apart in an instant. It didn't surprise him when he was roused from his bed and lined up with the other children.

"Where is he?"

The words were barked at a child who only shrugged at the questioner. "I was sleeping, sir."

Cries of children echoed through the corridor. Matthew stood in a corner, silent as the shadows, while guards ripped through the building, searching for evidence of sins in a house of innocents.

But this was a house of survivors, and even the youngest knew to keep quiet.

One of the employees slapped a sobbing new girl who hadn't learned the lessons of survival. A tremble ran through Matthew's fingers as wrath rocked him.

Matthew buried his feelings. If he gave away anything, he would die. For his faith. Because of what he read. Those small actions made him far too much of a threat.

A guard approached him, staring at him, but never really seeing him. "Where is Samuel Thompson?"

If Matthew were Shin, he would have some cocky reply ready. But Matthew was a sinful survivor. He could lie and make it sound as natural as possible. "I don't know, sir."

"Did you see anyone enter or exit the building after curfew tonight?" the guard asked.

Matthew and Sam had entered after curfew. Right before they went inside, Sam had kissed him. Though he kept an expressionless face, Matthew knew he was distraught about his sister. He hated that they had to part.

Although it might save his life.

"No one," Matthew lied.

The guard gave him a careful look, but Matthew was just one in a long line of young people to question. He kept himself steady and his heart only jumped when the guard paused.

"How old are you?" he asked. "You look old enough to serve."

All his life, Matthew had been tormented by a painful imagination that painted vivid pictures. His mother said it was because he liked to read. Now he visualized the guards dragging him away and forcing him to serve because he dawdled too long, afraid to live close to the Dark.

"I'm not sure," he said, answering far too late. "I think fourteen?"

His records had no birth date, but that didn't matter to the Sacred State. Eager to fill their ranks with any old enough boy they could grab, they wouldn't ask questions or listen to the protests of an orphan.

A few hellish seconds passed before the guard moved on to question someone else. Their desperation to find Sam made anything else less important.

But that meant Matthew's graphic imagination now focused on Sam's fate. Someone must have discovered his sister. The charge for taking a priestess away from a sanctuary would be death. Sam wouldn't be the only one who paid the price. They were all implicated.

Matthew never should have brought Kate.

He sent silent prayers as he waited for the guards to finish their rampage. In the end, nothing was found. He no longer kept his religious books there. But they weren't happy to find nothing.

Matthew kept his eyes focused on shoes, but heard the whispered conversations between the guards and the workers. There was talk of bringing in a priest to question.