I was quite scared when Sir Eranbor grabbed me.
I was sure he was gonna snap my neck or something, but to my surprise he swaddled my inside his a blanket before putting me under his cloak.
"Where shall I take him, my lord?" The knight asked.
The 'Lord' didn't hesitate with his answer and replied immediately.
"Throw him on the streets, far from here, he is to be of no hindrance," The 'Lord' said coldly.
"..As you wish," Sir Eranbor said.
It was hard to see the 'Lords' face from where I was at, I couldn't get a read on how he felt. Not that it really mattered, it was scandalous to have a bastard child in medieval times. Unless he really really loved me, which from the way he just beheaded my mother he probably didn't, it made sense why the 'Lord' would cast me out.
Seemed a little overboard for me though.
As for Sir Eranbor, his face contained the same neutral expression I had seen while killing my mother.
He's just doing his job.
Thats all this is to him.
Pitter patter. Pitter patter.
It was a dark and stormy night.
A typical cliche. But it was true.
The wind blew fiercely and the rain poured from what seemed every direction. Occasionally, lightning would flash and allow me to look up briefly at the passing buildings.
The knight held me firmly in his grip walked quickly and quietly through the pattering rain, he seemed to have a destination in mind.
I watched as endless streets passed by, the only light illuminating the dark night was the occasional lantern or candle-lit-home.
The sounds of bustling night life slowly quieted down into slow, mournful sorrow filled silence, along with it came a change of scenery.
Slums.
Broken down buildings, families out in the street despite the cold harsh rain, starving and withering people.
It was obvious where he was.
'Was I going to be sold into slavery?'
Its definitely a possibility. Slave units were a part of the game so it wasn't entirely out of the question. Not only that, they were used for hard labor as well. Even for New Game Abyss Plus being sold as a child slave right after your mother gets killed is way too insane.
The storm around us continued to rage on. It was cold, and dispite being underneath this knights cloak the rain still found a way to steep into my bundle. It chilled me down to the bone.
I tried to remember the path taken, maybe I would be able to make my way back one day? To find who my mother and father was. But the combination of pouring rain, a dark night, and confusingly laid out streets I quickly gave up on remembering where I came from.
There was no way I could remember this path years later anyway.
Step. Pause. Knock
Sir Eranbor eventually came to a hault.
Knock
He knocked twice before I felt his grip on me change, he held me with both hands and laid me gently on the ground.
I stared up at his green eye.
"Live well,"
In his eye laid a small bit of emotion. Regret? Guilt? Responsibility?
I couldn't place it.
But with those simple words he turned and left me on the cold ground and disappeared without another word.
'Live well' I thought
'How cliche'
I waited on the cold ground, around me rain poured upon the ground and gathered into puddles, I could only look up at the stone archway I was under and ponder where I was taken to.
An orphanage? Most likely. I don't think Sir Eranbor would leave me at a fire station.
A church maybe, a ministry possibly. Maybe a friends house?
I could only sit and wait.
Creeek
"Oh my!"
A soft voice came out of the door that had just opened with a creek. I couldn't see them yet but it sounded like a woman. Maybe old, maybe middle aged?
All that came out from the sliver of door that was opened was the golden light of a handheld candle.
"Dorothy! Get Father Holden!" The woman cried out, her voice wasn't particularly worried it seemed like this was a common occurrence.
"Ah, you poor soul, come here, lad."
The woman picked me up and untucked the thick blanket that completely swaddled me. It seemed like she tried to get a better look at me.
Her grip was experienced and she radiated a warm aura.
On her head laid a nun's coif and veil that covered most of her hair and went all the way across her back. She was a modest and kind looking middl- aged woman with plenty of laugh lines to show her joyful life. Her eyes were a deep brown and her on her lips were a slight smile.
"Oh lad you're all soaked,"
She gently rocked me up and down before turning around and closing the door. I was in presumably a church or some kind of orphanage, solely judging from the lady who carried me. Her demeanor and veil fit the profile of a nun so it wouldn't have been surprising if that was the case.
Step. Step. Step.
The sound of hard leather shoes hitting stone tiling filled the still air, it sounded like two people. One distinct and confident, one maybe tired? Like they were dragging their feet.
"Father Holden, Dorothy, a child has been brought to us! And what a cute little lad he is," The nun who carried me said.
"Augh, who would leave a child at this hour? In this weather too.."
"We need not know the situation he was in before, God has guided him here and so we will care for him," A prominent male voice said.
His voice wasn't deep or particularly menacing but carried something greater behind it, as if something was with him.
"Let me see the child, Sister Chloanna,"
"As you wish father," Sister Chloanna, the nun holding me, said before taking several steps towards Father Holden.
'Oof'
While Father Holden's hands weren't particularly rough they weren't gentle either, a firm grip but a little too firm for a baby.
His face was lit by candlelight, he was a older man. Maybe in his early 40s with salt and pepper hair all over his short slicked hair and thin beard. He had chiseled featues dispite his thin looking frame, it looked like he lived a much crazier life than he let on.
His blue eyes looked down into mine and I saw a deep facination in his gaze. Was it with me in particular? Or just children?
I hope it was the former.
He began to undo my swaddle.
Maybe it was the latter?
I was now completely naked in front of him and released from the damp blanket that held me.
Thwop!
The blanket that held me fell on the ground.
He held me in the air above his head while him, Dorothy, and Chloanna stared at me in unison.
Dorothy was much younger than I thought she would be. She was in a similar attire as Chloanna, a simple modest nightgown covered most of her body while a veil and coif covered her hair. She seemed to be in her late or mid teens, she was also quite beautiful. Her fair face covered with pale freckles was captured gently in the candlelight, along with her red hair that peeked through her coif.
She seemed sleepy when I first laid eyes on her, but as Father Holden held me higher she seemed more facinated.
"What a bright child!" Father Holden said with a hearty smile.
"I see God has loved you, boy, I see Saint Alexander in your figure. I see greatness in him, God has blessed us with a great gift today," Father Holden preached.
Dorothy seemed confused as to what she heard, Chloanna, however, seemed to understand what Father Holden was saying.
"He is the child in my dreams, Chloanna, sent by God and Saint Alexander. I see their light, and I will follow their will. His name will be Alexander,"
"Boy, live a pious life, God has blessed you so."