Interlude: In a Windy Cloister One Day
In truth, Julius didn’t have many memories of his grandfather. He’d been a prominent member of the Church’s highest organ, the Council of Elders, so Julius had never been able to interact with him on the casual level normal families could with a “grandpa.” And by the time Julius was old enough to really make memories, his grandfather had been pretty senile anyway (though he’d still held his key post in the Church), so he could only remember a few times that they’d met while his grandfather was in his right mind.
It wasn’t long after Julius had returned to the capital from Gate Town that he’d been told of the death. Everyone had known Grandfather didn’t have a lot time left, so there wasn’t much confusion, and the whole capital turned out to give him a grand memorial.
Julius himself didn’t have much work to do, but what with one thing and another, his life was still hectic for days. The afternoon the main business surrounding the funeral was wrapped up, he finally got the chance to speak with his father, if not for long and not sitting down. Even without all this extra commotion, his father was usually so busy with his Security Forces work that Julius got to see him only once or twice a month.
“Are you joining the Council of Elders, Dad?”
“Hard to say. There are several other candidates. I imagine there will be deliberations,” said his father. Julius was secretly relieved that he didn’t sound particularly attached to the idea of elder status. A promotion was something to be happy about, of course, but he was upset about having so few chances to see his father now; if he got even busier than this, they’d be worse than strangers. “More importantly, I wish they’d hurry up and finish renovating this place.”
“Yeah, it’s cold here.”
He loved his father for dismissing the whole thing with that “more importantly.”
They were having their conversation in one of the cloisters connecting the church towers. Renovations on it had been abandoned, with total disregard for functionality, just far enough into the process to leave the walkway an open colonnade with no roof, so the mountain winds blew straight down onto them. Julius turned up the collar of his clerical robes to block out the wind as they hurried through it together.
He didn’t like the cold, but in truth he didn’t want to get to the next tower too quickly, either. The moment they reached it, their time for talking would be over, and his father would leave to start in on all the work that had built up.
His father unexpectedly slowed his pace a little, almost as if he knew what Julius was thinking, though Julius highly doubted that. Eyes casually facing forward, he said, “It looks like you got taller again, eh?”
Whenever they saw each other after a long break, the topic of his height always came up, maybe because his father couldn’t think of anything else to say. “A little.”
“You can quit growing now. I don’t want you overtaking me!”
“That’s just selfish,” he said, glaring and puffing his cheeks in displeasure. His father let his gaze wander, feigning innocence. Come to think of it, though, it did seem as though they were a lot closer to eye level than they’d been before. He probably would be taller than his medium-height dad before long, but personally, he needed to be a lot taller than that. His target height was above average. I swear I’ll get bigger than that guy…
He raised his head a little and glared experimentally at his target: the point where a certain copper-colored eye would be on a level with his own.
After returning from Gate Town, he’d tried to look into the fossil energy research facility, but he didn’t have much to show for it. All he’d managed to find out was that it was under the direct supervision of the Council of Elders and was highly classified. Even as senile as his grandfather had been, it seemed like a good bet that he’d had inside knowledge—Julius had just been plotting whether he could make up some reason to go visit when word of his death had arrived and that plan became forever impossible.
What about Dad? Does he know something…?
“Hey, Dad. There’s a big lab on that rock ledge up in the mountains, right?”
“Hmm? Oh, that. Yeah, there is.”
Obviously Julius hadn’t brought it up naturally enough, because his father blinked as though he was taken aback by the sudden change of subject. He racked his brain for an excuse. “Some of my friends in school have been talking about it. I was wondering whether we could use it as a report topic. Do you think I could get permission to go visit?”
“Well, it’s outside my jurisdiction,” answered his father unpromisingly.
“Oh.” He’d more or less seen that coming, really. He’d only asked figuring there was no harm in trying, but it was still somewhat disappointing.
Dad saw his shoulders droop and seemed to get the wrong idea. “Is school going well?”
It was such a surprise to hear him ask about school, which he hardly ever did, that Julius couldn’t think of anything to say right away, and there was a weird little pause before he answered neutrally, “Yeah, pretty well overall.”
On the surface, Julius thought nobody could possibly complain about his performance there. His grades were good, needless to say; his teachers liked him; nobody in class picked on him. But it seemed that being part of one of the elite families who were supposedly descended from the Eleven Saints made him intimidating to other people. He didn’t have a single real friend. In fact, he was at the point where if someone would just talk to him, even if it was only because they thought he’d be a useful connection, he’d happily be their friend. But unfortunately, he went to an upper-class school, which meant they were just well-bred enough to rule that out.
Juli, you’re like the prince of some noble family!
It had felt nice to hear Kieli’s ridiculously artless reaction when he’d told her about his family…although at the moment she didn’t seem the least bit interested in becoming a noble princess.
As he sighed at this memory, the man beside him stopped walking. His father faced forward and straightened his posture a bit, so Julius stopped as well and looked down the passage ahead. Someone was walking up the long cloister toward them—a slim man wearing the long robe of the clergy’s highest order—who noticed them and looked up. “Well, hello, Mr. Candidate,” the man said, his gaunt cheeks softening. He saw Julius’s father stiffen, a conflicted expression on his face, and laughed out loud. He walked closer, gently chiding, “Now, now, don’t look so distressed. I’m sorry.”
“Please, don’t be ridiculous. I’m the one who owes you an apology.” His father bowed his head deferentially.
Now it was the newcomer’s turn to look distressed. His smile turned pained. “Come on, don’t be so formal.” This man didn’t seem to have the gravity and stately bearing you’d expect of someone with his rank—in fact, his presence was less commanding than the average person’s—but of course Julius knew who he was. He and Julius’s father had been friends since youth, but from what Julius heard, they’d been kind of distant ever since he’d become the youngest-ever member of the Council of Elders.
“And is that Julius? You’ve sure grown.”
Julius followed his father’s lead and nodded deferentially, too. “Thank you.” Would he know about the lab? Then again, I can’t exactly just ask him about it out of the blue. While he wavered, the two older men exchanged short pleasantries (“Want to have dinner together sometime?”) and broke off their conversation there to resume walking in opposite directions. They were both busy men, after all. Julius glanced over his shoulder as he scurried after his father to take one last look. Watching this man walk like any normal person down the freezing-cold cloister, shoulders slightly stooped, you’d never guess he was one of the foremost symbols of Church power. His robed back seemed so much older than Julius’s father’s, even though they were the same age. Lonelier, too. If Julius remembered right, he was unmarried and had no family.
It was a shame to think that if the man had a son or daughter, they’d have to be right around Julius’s age, and the two of them could have shared an easy friendship without having to worry about holding back on account of family status.
The whole journey from one end of the long cloister to the other took only a few minutes. Nothing memorable happened other than that he finally got to talk with his father again. It was just a day like any other.