A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Heart Kingdom]

[Pulchritudo]

"Apologies for keeping you waiting." Pastor Nicholas spoke with the same gentle warm tone as before, his smile never wavering. By now they had all gathered around a small round wooden table tucked away in a quieter corner of the old church.

Nicholas sat opposite Mikoto, his posture relaxed despite the long day he had clearly endured.

Catherine remained respectfully behind the pastor, her hands folded neatly before her. Robert stood behind Mikoto with his arms loosely folded, content to simply observe.

"Please don’t trouble yourself over it, Father."

Robert almost sighed; there it was again.

That voice.

Mikoto’s tone had shifted so naturally that it almost felt like he had become another person entirely. It was calm and gentle—soft enough that every word seemed to come comfortably.

It suited a face as beautiful as his almost unnaturally well.

If Robert had not spent days traveling beside him, listening to insults and sarcasm almost hourly, he would have sworn this was Mikoto’s true personality. Instead, hearing such genuine warmth from the same mouth that had casually threatened to kill people earlier was oddly unsettling.

"You looked rather occupied," Mikoto continued, offering a small, courteous smile. "It would have been selfish of us to interrupt while people were still seeking your guidance."

Nicholas chuckled quietly.

"That is kind of you to say." He lowered his eyes toward the steaming tea before him for a brief moment before lifting them back to Mikoto. "Though I confess..." His smile softened. "I am grateful there are still people who wish to open their hearts to the Lord."

There was no pride in his words, only gratitude.

Mikoto regarded him for a moment before speaking.

"Even if..." His tone remained as gentle as before, though his words themselves carried their usual bluntness. "...some of them are only here because they know they’ll leave with bread and soup?"

Robert nearly shut his eyes; there it is. He could not understand how Mikoto managed to ask the most uncomfortable questions imaginable while sounding so unbelievably polite.

It almost felt unfair.

Robert instinctively looked toward Nicholas and Catherine.

Surely that question would offend them.

Yet...

Neither of their expressions changed; neither looked insulted or even seemed surprised.

Instead, Catherine answered first.

"We would still be happy to help them." Her reply came without hesitation. "If someone comes here only because they are hungry..." She smiled gently. "Then at least they are no longer hungry when they leave."

Her blue eyes lowered slightly.

"And perhaps..." She folded her hands together. "Once a person’s stomach is no longer empty, their heart becomes just a little easier to reach."

There was only sincerity in her voice.

Nicholas nodded.

"Precisely." He looked toward Mikoto. "We are under no illusion that every person who walks through these doors believes what we believe." A small smile appeared. "Some seek shelter. Some seek food. Some merely seek somewhere quiet enough to rest." He spread his hands slightly. "And if that is all they seek..." His expression remained gentle. "Then we shall still welcome them."

He leaned back slightly.

"Our faith does not teach us to measure compassion before offering it. It teaches us to give first." His voice carried conviction. "Whether someone’s heart changes afterward..." He smiled again. "...that is between them and the Lord."

Mikoto listened quietly.

Then, almost absentmindedly, he spoke.

"Let each of you look not only to his own interests..." His eyes drifted toward the old Bible resting nearby. "...but also to the interests of others."

Silence settled briefly; Pastor Nicholas blinked. Then genuine surprise crossed his features, and a warm smile slowly spread across his face.

"Philippians," his eyes brightened noticeably. "Chapter two." A brief pause followed. "Verse four." He looked at Mikoto with unmistakable admiration. "You truly know the Scriptures." Nicholas laughed quietly. "I had initially assumed you perhaps recognized only a few names or symbols."

He shook his head.

"But quoting Scripture so naturally..." His smile widened. "You must have devoted yourself to studying the Bible rather diligently, young man."

Mikoto’s porcelain features softened; a small smile appeared upon his rosy lips. It was beautiful and gentle, almost impossibly so.

It immediately drew Catherine’s attention, while even Robert found himself briefly understanding why complete strangers became so captivated by him.

Yet...

Robert noticed something else: the smile never reached Mikoto’s eyes, not even slightly.

"I suppose..." Mikoto answered after a brief pause. "...you could say that."

Outwardly, his expression remained composed.

Inwardly—

("Normally...") His thoughts drifted. ("I shouldn’t even remember passages like these.") A small irritation crossed his mind. ("Strange. My past self actually knew Scripture.") His fingers lightly tapped against the arm of the pew. ("Guess they hated God enough to read the Bible cover to cover...") His lips almost twitched. ("Probably trying to decide whether it was all divine truth or simply propaganda written in His favor.")

The thought left an unpleasant taste; Mikoto quietly shook his head once.

Enough.

There was no point dwelling on memories that felt increasingly foreign; his attention returned to the conversation.

Nicholas watched him curiously.

"If you’ll forgive my curiosity..." the pastor spoke carefully. "I have wondered this since we first met." He smiled apologetically. "It is exceedingly rare for anyone in this world to know of our faith." His hands rested calmly atop the table. "So how did someone as young as yourself come to learn of something so remarkably obscure?"

Mikoto had expected the question much sooner; he answered without visible hesitation.

"It was my father." His voice remained calm. "He traveled farther than most people ever could." His gaze lowered briefly. "On one of those journeys he encountered people who followed this faith."

A small shrug followed.

"It fascinated him enough that he brought it home." His expression remained the same. "He never treated it as something strange; he simply believed it was worth remembering. And eventually he taught it to us."

Nicholas listened intently.

When Mikoto finished speaking, the pastor’s expression became almost wistful.

"I see..." His voice was quiet. "What a remarkable thing." He smiled warmly. "Faith often survives not because of great churches or powerful kingdoms..." His eyes briefly wandered around the aging sanctuary. "...but because one person believes it precious enough to pass to another."

Catherine nodded gently.

"It is comforting." Her smile carried happiness. "To think that even somewhere unimaginably far away..." She looked toward Mikoto. "...someone cared enough to preserve these teachings."

Her hands folded together.

"There is something beautiful about that." Her blue eyes brightened. "It reminds me that faith can cross generations, even when it cannot cross nations."

Mikoto met her gaze for only a moment.

"Perhaps." It was the only answer he gave.

("Funny.") Mikoto’s gaze remained on Pastor Nicholas, though his thoughts wandered elsewhere for only a fleeting moment. ("That faith didn’t exactly stop my old man from being a complete piece of shit.")

The thought arrived so naturally that it caught him off guard.

Not because of what he thought.

Because of how he felt afterwards.

Amusement.

A faint, almost imperceptible amusement, his lips nearly threatened to curl upward before he suppressed it.

("...Huh.") That surprised him more than the thought itself; he had expected bitterness, perhaps irritation. Instead, it almost felt absurd enough to laugh at. A man who had spoken about faith, virtue and righteousness could still become someone worthy of contempt. ("Guess belief alone doesn’t magically make someone decent.")

The thought lingered only briefly before Mikoto discarded it.

There was no point chasing memories.

His attention returned to the conversation just as Pastor Nicholas’ expression brightened, as though he had only now remembered something important.

"Ah..." The older man let out a soft chuckle at himself. "It seems I’ve allowed our conversation to wander rather far." He smiled apologetically. "You did not make the journey here simply to indulge an old pastor in theological discussion."

His eyes met Mikoto’s.

"Baron Fredrick spoke to me prior to this conversation via that new invention of his. "Another gentle smile. "He seemed remarkably enthusiastic when describing you."

Robert almost snorted.

Enthusiastic was certainly one way to put it.

Nicholas continued.

"He wished for a portrait to be painted, yes?" The pastor folded his hands calmly. "It has admittedly been quite some time since I last picked up a proper brush. " His smile carried a trace of nostalgia. "My hands are perhaps not as steady as they once were." He inclined his head politely. "But even so, I shall endeavour to paint something worthy of the beauty placed before me."

Robert glanced sideways at Mikoto.

The white-haired youth looked entirely unmoved.

"So..." Robert spoke up instead. "You’re truly friends with that Baron?"

Nicholas nodded almost immediately.

"I am." His answer was simple. "Fredrick has been a dear friend for many years. " There was genuine affection in his voice. "He has supported this church through more difficult seasons than I care to remember."

Nicholas looked towards the worn walls surrounding them.

"Much of what little we still possess exists because of his generosity."

Robert slowly nodded.

"So he funds this place."

Nicholas smiled. "He does." A sombre expression crossed his face. "Though..." He looked around the church once more. "I suspect you’ve already noticed..." A small sigh escaped him. "Most of those funds seldom remain in our hands for very long."

His eyes drifted towards the empty soup bowls left upon a nearby table.

"Food." He spoke the word simply. "Medicine, blankets and clothing." His smile became smaller. "There always seems to be another family needing assistance. Another child who has gone hungry and another person with nowhere else to turn."

He folded his hands loosely.

"So repairing the church itself..." His words gradually faded. For the first time since they’d met him, a heavier expression crossed his face.

Catherine lowered her gaze, her expression mirrored his.

Robert noticed immediately.

"I suppose..." His own voice softened. "...that’s not an easy subject."

Nicholas gave a faint nod. "It rarely is."

Catherine finally spoke.

"There are many..." She searched briefly for the proper words. "...who simply cannot understand a faith they have never known." Her hands folded gently before her. "For generations the Goddess Iofiel was, to most people, the only divinity that existed." She smiled sadly. "Even here in the Heart Kingdom. Most people never imagined another belief could even exist."

Her blue eyes drifted around the church.

"So when they see this place, they do not see another path. They see something foreign and dangerous. Something that should not exist." Silence followed.

Mikoto quietly finished the thought for her.

"So this church has become a target." His voice remained calm. "A place people feel justified attacking because it refuses to worship the Goddess they expect."

Nicholas nodded.

"Unfortunately..."

"Yes."

Mikoto rested an armoured arm against the pew.

"I imagine taking in demi-humans only makes matters worse."

Again—

Both Nicholas and Catherine nodded.

"It does." Nicholas admitted without attempting to soften the truth; his expression became noticeably more solemn. "You may already know..." He folded his hands before him. "...how demi-humans first came to be."

Robert answered before Mikoto could.

"They mostly descend from Deseruit Beasts." He scratched lightly at his cheek. "Or at least that’s what I’ve always been taught."

("They do?") Mikoto’s red eyes blinked once. ("Well, didn’t know that. That’s actually useful.")

Nicholas acknowledged Robert with a nod.

"That is correct." His expression remained gentle despite the topic. "And because of those origins..." He looked towards the now mostly empty pews. "...many refuse to see them as people. They hear the word ’beast’ and never look beyond it. They ignore their kindness, grief, hopes and their families. They reduce entire lives to ancestry."

His fingers rested lightly upon the old Bible.

"This church was founded upon a very simple belief." He smiled faintly. "If every person is created by God, then every person deserves compassion. It matters little whether they possess horns, a tail or fur. They remain people."

His eyes lifted.

"Not everyone agrees." Silence settled over the table.

"Sounds rough." Mikoto’s response remained characteristically brief.

Robert glanced towards him. Coming from anyone else, the words would have sounded dismissive. Coming from Mikoto, they strangely sounded sincere.

Nicholas smiled gratefully.

"I appreciate the sentiment." He slowly rose from his chair; the wood creaked softly beneath him. "But..." His warm expression returned. "I would rather not burden visitors with the hardships this old church continues to endure."

He offered a small bow of apology.

"You came here with another purpose. I shall fetch my brushes..." His eyes wandered towards a nearby hallway. "...and perhaps a fresh canvas as well, so that—"

BANG!

The sound exploded through the sanctuary. It was not a polite knock. Rather, a violent pounding slammed against the heavy wooden church doors hard enough that dust drifted from the old beams overhead.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

The peaceful atmosphere shattered instantly.

Nicholas froze where he stood, and Catherine’s blue eyes snapped towards the entrance before the second impact had even finished echoing. The warmth disappeared from both their faces.

It happened so quickly that Robert almost missed it.

Recognition.

Then—

Dread.