Instantly standing up, Lark started pacing around the room.

His heart was beating quicker in the presence of his current anxiety. Too bad becoming a Saint didn’t take everything away completely, since he could still feel the crackling of some heightened emotions. Sitting on the bed, Lark put his head in his hands and let out a long, shaky sigh. Alone, trapped and without any way of escape, Lark felt his eyes get wet.

So it seemed like he was still able to cry even though the emotion didn’t feel as strong. 

Part of him could barely tell how upset he was.

No use dwelling on anything right now when Lark’s stomach screamed for food. He recalled the fridge, marching over to it and staring inside. There was a bowl of chopped fruit, a small carton of almond milk, bread and cheese, a few jams and sauces. In the cupboards was oatmeal, flour, a few pots and pans, sugar, coffee and a pretty looking kettle. There was a large magnet on the fridge holding up a little note that detailed a number on the local phone in the room to get food delivered from the dorm cafeteria.

By the room phone was a small menu that listed some specific meals or that the kitchen could make whatever Lark desired. Unsure if he had the energy to actually cook, Lark stared at all of his options. 

Going back to the phone and picking up the menu card, Lark slowly dialed the number for the kitchen. After a moment, the sounds of a bustling workplace came through and a pleasant feminine voice came on the line. “Oh, this is Lark isn’t it? Welcome to the Cathedral!”

”Um… yeah. Thanks.” He replied hesitantly, not very good at first introductions or new people.

“You must be starving, what can I get you? Whatever you order I’ll make with extra helpings so you can save it for later.” She seemed nice enough, more chipper than some of the people he had met so far.

“Sure… That’d be nice actually.” He looked at the basic lunch menu, eyes swimming at the amount of options. “Just the fried eggplant sandwich if you don’t mind.”

“Ok! I’ll make it a hero so you can cut it in half in case your stomach has a rough time with it.” She stopped abruptly, probably noting down his order.

Lark hummed, looking through the rest of the menu booklet. They offered specialty drinks and alcohol from the cafeteria as well, or spaces to store food items that wouldn’t fit in individual’s kitchens. “Thank you. Seems you know where to bring it?”

A laugh from the kitchen line. “Sorry, we have a list here that tells all the room numbers. I wasn’t bein’ nosey or anything.”

“No, I get it. I figured.” His chest felt light as a laugh spilled out and it felt nice. Seemed genuine enough.

“Hehe! Alright, I’ll bring it up later. Don’t worry, I won’t come in in case you’re nervous. I’ll leave it right outside the door.” Just as it seemed she was about to close the line she gasped. “Oh! Very important; please let us know if you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions. We try to fit the needs of our congregation, especially our Saints.”

“Ah… What should I do about that?” He thought for a minute though nothing came to mind. “I don’t have anything like that going on but I guess it's a formality?”

“Yes, yes! There shooouuulllddd be a packet in your room for new arrivals that lists important information we keep on file.” Some loud clang in the background came through the receiver, startling Lark so much he brought it a bit away, but didn’t seem to bother her. 

“If you need certain medicine; like for hormones or any other permanent medical conditions be it physical or mental, we will put your prescriptions through to our pharmacy. There will never be any charge to you or your family while living here, so don’t worry! At our hospital we take care of your routine check-ups! If you need surgery for anything serious or personal, that is also all covered. Uuuhhh…What else…” She was going on and on.

Deciding to try ending the conversation, Lark coughed. “I’ll look through it, thank you.”

“Sure!” Her voice popped back into a regular cheerful tone. “Call if you have any questions!”

A breath of relief and Lark thanked her again before hanging up.

Pacing around the room while he waited, it wasn’t long before there was a knock on his door. Waiting a few minutes, as he really wasn’t in the mood to have any sort of conversation, Lark opened the door a crack and grabbed the tray of food on a little table outside. He glanced around, seeing a mostly empty hallway before ducking back inside. Bringing it into the kitchen he took a plate from the cupboard, napkins, a cup filled with more water and seated himself alone at the small table. It felt… lonely.

After eating, Lark was actually able to think coherently.

He glanced at the blue scarf still resting on the counter and remembered that Delilah would talk with him if he wasn’t wearing it out. Picking it up, he marveled again at the gentle feeling of it in his calloused hands. It seemed too nice for him to wear. Nevertheless he wrapped it snuggly around his neck to get a feel for it. The soft cloth was comfortable on his skin and surprisingly thick. There was a chill to the room that it alleviated and he bundled it around himself a bit more snuggly, feeling better after it.

Then his thoughts reminded him about having a weapon. Lark frowned.

He didn’t want one, but since he had complete say in what he wanted a crook would be what he’d have. Blunt, no glinting steel; leave the killing to someone else who wanted to do it. He wondered when they would teach him how to use Glyphs and got excited. That would be more interesting, since Glyphs were used for many things; art, science, construction, protection, healing. 

Another knock on the door. Another disturbance. It made Lark’s brain get all dark.

“Come in, I guess.”