(60) On Boarding
The tourist guide said that the church had been built in the thirteenth century. That made it, well, close to a millennium old which was absolutely crazy to Nestra. People at that time didn’t even have electricity! They believed in magic! Then science had come and said magic wasn’t real, and then magic had returned and said ‘no u’.
That was the extent of what she remembered from her formal education. Threshold’s history program was really focused on Incursion years and less on ancient European stuff. The Grossmunster with its stained glass windows gave her vertigo. There wasn’t anything on the Threshold continent that came close, not even the continent itself. It was older than Sereth. Positively ancient.
It wasn’t even that big. Two square towers with cupolas at the top. A thick, squarish body. Beige stone that looked like it might crumble any time in the unforgiving light of Zurich’s early morning. Long ago, it must have been awe-inspiring by itself. She remembered visiting the Beacon for the first time when she was six. She’d looked up and the building just kept on, and on, seemingly ad infinitum to her child mind. It had been more than a place. It had been an experience. She assumed it was the same here.
Nestra had gotten in just to see if she would burst into flames. She hadn’t. It made her think about God though. Back in Threshold, most pre-Incursion religions had some presence though she’d never been interested. Even the Riel swear words were more a matter of respect and tradition than anything else. No one really worshiped him.
Nestra moved away from the church and closer to one of the two nearby bridges overlooking the Limmat river. The streets were sunny and pleasant, with a light wind. Late workers hurried back and forth in earthy-colored coats. The mood was surprisingly relaxed here, in the older part of town. It gave a strange melancholic mood of what the world might have been without the monsters.
As before, people avoided her as soon as they met her eyes. Nestra moved closer to Aunt Claire who was leaning over a railing, her dress moving in the wind. Her scars and complete lack of care for the lowish temperatures marked her as a raider so no one bothered her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to have a look inside?”
“I like churches but I’ve got a problem with the owner,” Claire replied without turning.
Ooooh, an opening. Maybe Claire was vulnerable to surprise questions.