Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2015 18:58:26 GMT -5
"... and that none may find themselves alone, for when thee walks for tribulation, in all purity and humility, he finds our lord of all light to guide and preserve his soul. For now and forever more, thine is the Architect, creator of all spiritual temporal. Protect and guide us all, mine holy father. Amen" As he uttered the final word, he dropped a cotton purse containing coins of silver before the altar. He kept his head bowed for a few seconds, before raising his gaze to look upon the holy lamp.
Always aware of watching eyes, the Prince remained kneeling for a further minute before he finally shuffled backward and rose slowly to his feet. Even then Stephane did not simple leave; his feet as if mounted to the floor, he dipped his head before the priest, and genuflected once more before the altar, before he finally turned away to walk slowly, and solemnly toward the temple exit.
There were so few nobles here; the temple of the Architect was found of safe pilgrimage to the poor and lowly, the pias commons of the capital. There were few like he, who attended prayer outside allotted services. His belief, though firm in the Architect, was wider. Stephane believed that one must be a prince of the commons, there was wealth - if not in politic, but reputation - in having the adoration of the common classes. He, the Prince of the People did not hide between gilded cages - dangerous though it might be, Stephane always found time to walk among the meek. To touch those cursed with scrofula - the King's evil. Never willing to forsake his charitable commitments.
"Thank you, holy father" Stephane spoke softly, as he was approached by the temple's priest. On this occasion, he did not remain to converse - the prince had spotted another across the nave, another who looked... out of place. He clasped a second purse of coin, and placed it gently into the hands of the
"May the Architect bless you, my son."
The priest's response was met with a warm smile as Stephane sidled past him, gracefully gliding toward the young noble gentlemen. More than just the dark hair and southern features told the prince that this man was gentile, there was something about his mannerisms. "The house of the Architect is open to all, my lord. Not just the faithful." across his pale handsome features, a smile lifted his faith to a warmth not giving away those questions he asked himself inside. Stephane did not recognize the young man, personally - although he had something of a Sandoval look about him. Singling out the names from faces he knew, he deduced; not Sebastian, could this be Agustin, or - more likely - Fausto Sandoval?
@faustosandoval
Always aware of watching eyes, the Prince remained kneeling for a further minute before he finally shuffled backward and rose slowly to his feet. Even then Stephane did not simple leave; his feet as if mounted to the floor, he dipped his head before the priest, and genuflected once more before the altar, before he finally turned away to walk slowly, and solemnly toward the temple exit.
There were so few nobles here; the temple of the Architect was found of safe pilgrimage to the poor and lowly, the pias commons of the capital. There were few like he, who attended prayer outside allotted services. His belief, though firm in the Architect, was wider. Stephane believed that one must be a prince of the commons, there was wealth - if not in politic, but reputation - in having the adoration of the common classes. He, the Prince of the People did not hide between gilded cages - dangerous though it might be, Stephane always found time to walk among the meek. To touch those cursed with scrofula - the King's evil. Never willing to forsake his charitable commitments.
"Thank you, holy father" Stephane spoke softly, as he was approached by the temple's priest. On this occasion, he did not remain to converse - the prince had spotted another across the nave, another who looked... out of place. He clasped a second purse of coin, and placed it gently into the hands of the
"May the Architect bless you, my son."
The priest's response was met with a warm smile as Stephane sidled past him, gracefully gliding toward the young noble gentlemen. More than just the dark hair and southern features told the prince that this man was gentile, there was something about his mannerisms. "The house of the Architect is open to all, my lord. Not just the faithful." across his pale handsome features, a smile lifted his faith to a warmth not giving away those questions he asked himself inside. Stephane did not recognize the young man, personally - although he had something of a Sandoval look about him. Singling out the names from faces he knew, he deduced; not Sebastian, could this be Agustin, or - more likely - Fausto Sandoval?
@faustosandoval