awhitecrow | First Prayer

[The words are written carefully, and he takes his time in penning it all.

Jonathan Hollom writes from the safety of the room he is staying in at House Seven. Like a few days ago-- and every day after-- he made breakfast for the women of the house early in the morning, covered it to keep it warm and to prevent anything from getting into it, then retreated back to his room.]

Then Jonah prayed unto the Lord his God out of the fish's belly,
And said, I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heardest my voice.
For thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me.
Then I said, I am cast out of thy sight; yet I will look again toward thy holy temple.
The waters compassed me about, even to the soul: the depth closed me round about, the weeds were wrapped about my head.
I went down to the bottoms of the mountains; the earth with her bars was about me for ever: yet hast thou brought up my life from When my soul fainted within me I remembered the Lord: and my prayer came in unto thee, into thine holy temple.
...
I will pay that that I have vowed. Salvation is of the Lord.
Jonah, Chapter 2, verses 1-7, 9.

This place, with its houses and food and wings, must be a gift from God. There is still evil here, so it is not Paradise, but there are no lakes of fire. It is not eternal darkness. So it is not Hell.

It must, then, be a kind of Purgatory. A place for souls to prove their worth, to earn their redemption or damnation.

Shew me thy ways, O LORD; teach me thy paths.
Lead me in thy truth, and teach me: for thou art the God of my salvation; on thee do I wait all the day.
Remember, O Lord, thy tender mercies and thy lovingkindnesses; for they have been ever of old.
Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness' sake, O Lord.
Psalms, Chapter 37, verses 4-7

I was brought here with nowhere else to go, and I begged the Lord for hope and for His help, for the strength and courage only He can give.

But verily God hath heard me; he hath attended to the voice of my prayer.
Blessed be God, which hath not turned away my prayer, nor his mercy from me.
Psalms, Chapter 66, verses 19-20

Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as [it is] in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

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[He's sure it's not meant as a compliment, but he manages to make himself speak.]

Thank you, sir.

Hah! Sir!! [He hisses back with viciousness and amusement - and after a beat, his face hardens as if he were dealing with some insolent underling.] ...You will address me as Lord Isaac, dog that you are!

Edited 2012-01-15 22:24 (UTC)

[He'll take the reprimand for face value.]

Yes, my lord. I apologise.

[The answer pacifies him. He nods softly in approval, slyly satisfied. ] Very good. It seems you learn quickly. Does this... dog... have a name~?

[He's been called worse, honestly. And what is he to nobility?]

Jonathan Hollom, my lord.

[Oh, how he wishes he could be there right now, standing before him.] My dear Hollom~... [Almost has a nice ring to it.] ...Will you forgive me my mortal sins?

I... am afraid I am no priest, my lord. To act as confessor would... be near blasphemy, I fear.

Would it? [He asks almost sweetly, although his features are twisting into an ugly grimace.] So... you mean to say you that are disobeying me? [This conversation carried out at a distance puts Hollom at a distinct advantage.] Hnph. I... was never welcome to set foot within God's glorious House. [At 'glorious', his eyes widen, his arms spreading wide.] My very existence... was blasphemic. A plague upon all the village! [He laughs bitterly.] And you too deny me relief of the dreadful burdens I drag behind me like chains, leaving me with but the fires of Hell to warm me. [He presses a hand to his tattooed chest, gazing ceilingward with feigned penitence.] ...Is there no hope for my wretched soul~?

A priest could serve as confessor, my lord, but I am not one. I lack the schooling and the ordination. To call myself more than I am would be an insult to the Church and, I fear, would not help you, as a charlatan's forgiveness would mean nothing in the eyes of the Lord.

[He rolls his eyes back, sighing.] How cruel of you. But... I understand. I understand very well. [A lilting, sensual voice.] Your faith is indeed strong, my sweet, blameless Hollom. You are... untainted.

[It's hard to say, but it needs be said.] I... wish that were true, my lord. But it... isn't. Which would make any... any penance I offer even more meaningless, if not make you worse off than you think you are now.

[A short, almost bleating chuckle.] Oh, dear me - I sincerely doubt my poor soul could be any deeper entrenched in sin than it is now.

[The man plays with his armour all the while, lazily wrapping a finger around a thin length of chain as one might toy with a lock of hair.]

Another... makes little difference. [He adds with a smile, musing aloud.]

If it's forgiveness you seek, my lord, and absolution... I fear it would be too hollow if it came from anything other than a man of God.

{There's a touch of nervousness to him, yes, but his tone is always quiet, always gentle.]

I wish I were one, that I might offer you that solace.

[Oh, you sweet, precious man.] Well. So be it. [He dismisses the subject with a flippant wave of his hand, glancing aside.] We will speak again. In the flesh, of course. Communicating through these books is rather... impersonal.

First Prayer - written

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