Ye Ole Castle House is quiet in the middle of the night.
Sure: the sound of the wind outside is loud, howling like a banshee trapped in a wake; but the hotel, itself, isn’t. There’s no sound of movement, no activity, or energy. Not even a solid proof of life.
Just the echoes of freezing rain on window panes.
And Manus’ soft breathing.
~
It’s for these reasons that Jarl struggles not to raise his voice as he asks: “What are you doing‽”
The question sounds harsh to his own ears (a trick of the mind, biology, and physics, of course; still), causing his eyes dart to Manus in a panic. Whether it’s because he feels the magician deserves sleep, needs it, or—perhaps—just wants to offer him as much opportunity as possible to find out whatever he can about Kane, Jarl is currently loathed to actually do anything to disturb him—which, of course, is why this call bothers him.
Luckily, though, Manus remains unaffected.
The priest relaxes when he sees this, tension leaving his suddenly stressed body and causing it to sag down. But, across the Lay Tablet, from a little town in the heart of Ireland, Hagen and Sophie only quirk their brows.
In unison.
Under any other circumstance, Jarl would probably find their faces funny. As much as they’re both notorious for being stoic and even stern (especially in Sophie’s case as Head Nun; Hagen, however, can be muchly stern when caring for a patient—something Jarl has, sadly, had to learn the hard way…), neither see the similarities even as they stare each other in the face—probably because their notorieties stem from different things: while they’re both stoic, Sophie’s stems from her being demure and Hagen’s is actually a defence to bullying; while they’re both stern due to their profession, Sophie’s is amplified by her natural parental affections—Hagen… doesn’t have that, if Jarl can be honest, but he does care deeply which becomes his prescriptions.
“Ve are calling you?” aforementioned apothecary answers, pulling his priest out of his thoughts.
From her spot beside Hagen, in the man’s office and study located in the center of his store, cuppa in hand, the perturbed Head Nun nods in agreement whilst she glances—unamusedly—between the two of them. She’s uncomfortable using Manus’ methods of communication, Jarl suddenly realizes, remembering her… discomfort where magic is concerned: Sophie is of the mind that hard work and dedication (specifically piety) builds strong character and this should be what all human beings strive for: worthiness of being with God.
Manus and his magic, however, stand in stark contrast to that.
The mage used to use his magic for literally everything, from travel (within small spaces like a room or house) to cleaning, with little care for how that level of laziness could be tempting to other people—especially kids. When he first arrived, in fact, Jarl had to pull him aside and literally lecture his ear off about doing it to Jas’, telling him that it was inappropriate to bring his devilry into their home.
He’d been so furious with Manus back then…
As had everyone else, though—at least: every other parent(al figure). Jarl couldn’t keep track of the number of adults that came to him during confessionals, after schooling, and post masses to speak of their concerns. Tempting their children with slothfulness, teaching their kids about unGodly pastimes, one even complained of the mage tainting their offspring with devil dust (Manus’ glitter, Jarl had assumed) and brainwashing them.
Sophie and he both had their hands full dealing with all of these complaints.
He’s uncertain, really, how he forgot about it; especially as he shares her/their thoughts on magic frequently.
~
Or does he?
In the past week, he’s found himself not only understanding more about magic than he ever has before but relaxing with it, too. He’s come to trust and rely on it—and those practically MADE of it—to the point that he’s actually begun USING IT ON HIS OWN.
(What a world…)
“Yes…” Jarl hisses, getting back to the present and still trying to keep quiet; “In the middle of the night???”
“As you did to me,” Hagen quips with a pointed finger. There’s a glint in his eye that betrays his hidden grin and Jarl almost smacks his own face as he tries to cover his own exasperation—and his own shame, honestly. He does remember their first call to the apothecary (when they were still with Father George) at midnight and, as much as he hadn’t cared for disturbing the man back then, he really regrets it now. (Payback sucks…)
Not that he’ll let the other man get away with petty revenge, “You were up, anyway, Hagen; Manus isn’t.”
The blonde pouts, huffing a little as he playfully crosses his arms. “As if that’s normal for him!” Jarl smiles, both amused and reveling in this hint of normalcy; it’s a welcome change from the wildness of the past week. Still, he can hear the hint of concern for their witch friend in the doctor half’s voice and smiles a bit more.
Sophie only rolls her eyes at their antics, “It’s a wonder this parish needs either of you; bunch of children…”
“Hey…”
~
“How IS the parish doing?”
Jarl poses the question much the same as he would normally; but he can quickly deduce something’s wrong. Or at least different. Hagen’s lips tighten in a way that tells Jarl the other is suddenly uncomfortable and Sophie…
Sophie straight up looks away.
Her face is covered in a mixture of guilt, fear, and suspicion—things Jarl’s only ever seen on her twice before: when Jarl went to her for help with Jasey (She hadn’t known how to help after our parents died; then again, why WOULD she? [And he still doesn’t know what she was SUSPICIOUS about…]) and when this all started.
~
“Guys… guys, talk to me…”
“Isn’t that what we should be asking of YOU?” Sophie says it meaner than she probably means to, as she—quite honestly—does with many things. Jarl is sure of this because she flinches back from her own words and appears more struck by them, somehow, than Jarl or even Hagen. She swallows, “So-sorry…”
She’s about to say more, probably explain herself, but Jarl cuts her off: she doesn’t have to; “No, you’re right. I… I’ve been keeping a lot of things from you…”
(Question is: should he tell her about Áesta?)
(Is that SAFE? For her OR him?)
(Jarl doesn’t really think so…)
(But isn’t that the problem?)
(Him gatekeeping things?)
Kilometers away, Sophie nods, as though knowing what he thinks; Jarl swallows, realizing she DOES.
“Yes; like the fact that Jasey was kidnapped by a DAEMON summoned by one of OUR parishioners?”
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