Chapter 22 - Church Haven

With a young man’s help, Aurora took Lumen off her shoulders. Laying him down on the altar, she covered him with her cape.

“Are you sure about it, general?” 
“Yes, Father. We won’t be staying the night, and I want him to rest as close to Her as we can.” 
The old priest had a concerned look plastered on his face, not different from her memories of him. 
“I was talking about you being here. I can’t control everyone; they will know.” 
“I know. I sent a word that I would be there.” She inhaled deeply before releasing it with the tension that was forming between her shoulder blades. “And it’ll be easier to face them in Her light.” 
“I see.” He marked a pause. “If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.” 
He was about to turn around and leave. 
“Yes. We need a cart. And a horse.” 
“I’ll send the word tomorrow at dawn—” 
“Now.” 
“Pardon?” 
“Send your most trusted priests now. We won’t be staying the night.” 
“You can’t be serious?! Nobody would let you buy a cart at that time of the night.” 
“They wouldn’t do it for me. That’s why I need you. They wouldn’t refuse the head priest.”
Surprise colored his face, mixing with the concern in a funny way. Or at least, it would have been funny if Aurora wasn’t so pressed for time.
“I see you’re still as impatient, young girl. Remember Her words. Good come to those who know to wait.” 

Aurora took a step forward, tilting her head down to stare at the old man. 
“I led armies to victory, knowing when to strike and when to wait. I spent years looking for the heroes. I watched as this world was engulfed by darkness a bit more every day. I’ve seen the goblins getting closer to towns. I bid my time when I couldn’t save a single soul from burning houses. A few days ago, my hesitation almost killed him, and he’s now unconscious behind you. One of the heroes. You know like me that if we don’t all make it to the Pillar, there won’t be another chance for decades. Can we take the risk and condemn the world to His strikes when we could stop it? Tell me.”
The head priest flinched and took a step back under her gaze, and another with each step forward she took to punctuate her discourse, until he had his back to the altar. The small old man wasn’t the detached mentor he once was.
He, too, had seen the darkness spread. 
He, too, was praying every day for a miracle. 
“You haven’t changed. Still as stubborn. But you put on some eloquence since you left the army. I’ll go myself and get your cart. If my old legs can carry me fast enough, you won’t have to—” 

A loud banging on the door cut him short. 
Aurora turned with a sigh, knowing full well who would dare such a ruckus here at that time. 
The priest and his assistant didn’t wait for an invitation and promptly departed, letting the two women and the sleeping boy alone to face those she feared. 
Morgan shuddered and hid behind her companion, grabbing her staff firmly with both hands, her hat trembling. 
Three more loud knocks echoed through the otherwise empty church, traveling around the strong stone walls, resonating the strongest around the altar.

The only lights were coming from a couple of high candelabra on each side of the chancel, their dim halo hardly reaching the altar. The narthex was shrouded in darkness. 
Three more knocks, louder, faster, more insistent, echoed. 
Complete silence. Aurora could hear Morgan’s fast breath, and her heartbeat quickening, readying for a fight. 
But it wouldn’t be a fight she could wage with her sword. As calmly as she could, she unbuckled the sheath by her side, deposing her sword under the altar. 
Methodically, she proceeded to release her armour part by part, laying them properly near the covered blade. More than anything, it was a way for her to focus on something while her mind was racing. 

Morgan joined in helping her. Her trembling hands couldn’t prevent her from executing those movements she did so many times. Her staff laid on the ground, in front of her friend’s equipment. 
As Aurora put down the last piece of metal, a single blasting bang came from the door. 
She turned around to see the candles waver in the aftershock. 
Morgan took her hat off, revealing her long dark hair, and put it on top of the pile that was Aurora’s armour. 

Another loud thundering bang. A candle got snuffed out. The light flickered. 
The two women were now standing side by side, facing down the navel, to what sounded like a battering ram trying to take down the door. And it might have been. 
Morgan was deceptively shorter without her hat, and she was shaking. But she kept her composure with each of the ensuing whacks at the door. 
She took Aurora’s hand, quiet. No mumbling. Just her whole body trembling. Aurora pressed her hand in hers, trying to be reassuring. Just two women in a dim oval of light, surrounded by the darkness and the echoing sounds of a door creaking under heavy hits.

Please, take him in Your light. Let him come back to us. And give me strength— 
The silent prayer was interrupted by a thundering crack. The door gave in, and for a few seconds, the loudest thud of its panes hitting the ground was the only sound around her.