faithbound. [marquis & Earinor]

Azrael looked at the river and the other side of it. He doubted there was any threat here, but not only demons might be after what Ignatius was protecting. The monastery didn't exactly keep this expedition a secret and even if no one insignificant knew what it was they needed an army for, some people ought to get intrigued by it. Their methods had been questionable and if they were lucky word of the expedition already ailing spread so no one would search for the two lone survivors. Azrael lay down and shaded his eyes with his hand while looking into the sky. "You aren't.", Azrael simply answered because nothing else was asked of him. There was no need to go into detail unprompted and it wasn't very exciting either. He'd protected many people on their journeys and he was fine with washing himself besides them, or drying his clothes just like he did now. There were people tending to his wounds who'd seen him too, though he tried to care for himself if he could. He was no healer though, sometimes he had to take help of others.

He didn't pay much attention to what Ignatius did behind him, even when he heard the trees leaves rustle. Instead he was bombarded with questions. "I am not... hunters die all the time, there is no use making friends with one." Neither for him to befriend other hunters, nor for people to befriend him. He'd never see them again once he left anyway. He didn't like to remain in one area for too long and he didn't want anyone waiting for him. "No, I am used to being alone." And people tended to talk to him anyway, just like Ignatius did right now. Azrael never had the wish to talk to someone about his troubles. "I wasn't. My parents died and I was alone. I knew a few things about demons and I had to defend myself. Eventually I figured why not make money with it. I was fifteen when I took my first job and since then I didn't stop killing demons." That was the very short version of his story, but Ignatius needn't know more than that. "How did you get involved with your church?"

Was it wrong for him to ask so much and give so little in return? Ignatius was unsure - he'd never found someone as interesting as Azrael, someone who wasn't sheltered and raised with wool over his eyes, someone that understood this here world better than anyone. Surely, some of the older priests were not raised in service of the church, oh no, they had been their own people before they had allowed themselves to follow gods orders, but even those people rarely talked to him. In a way, he had a disdain for all of them, knowing that they could never replace him, that his greatness was one of unmatched power, but it didn't matter. After all, he was nothing more than the best of them, someone that could hardly be outmatched with simple words. "I am glad, then.", he murmured, knowing that it might be a bit much to ask of someone like Azrael. Someone that preferred to be by himself, away from those who might ail him, be it with their words or existence. There was no such thing as love among the simple people living out there, not in the long run, not if they were to actually give it a glimpse.

Ignatius was someone that was compassionate, someone that loved a world he never knew, but he never longed for it, either. All that he wanted, desired and asked for was something akin to his desires and yet, he already knew that it was wrong of him to desire anything in the first place. The world he lived in wasn't his to shape, not anymore and not any longer. It was just a place to be, one that he could hardly make out to be anything more than his own. "I guess so, but priests die all the time, too." Something like that surely did not deter him from spending time with the people around him, even if they were lesser. Frankly, though, it was wrong to assume someone would think the same, given that the two of them hardly managed to agree on their stance on people either way. "Then it's no surprise you arent lonely, I'd fathom." Charcoal rubbed against the paper he held and with every smidge and fleck that he added, the scenery in his arms seemed to change, further and further. "I ... ah. I'm sorry, I did not mean to dredge that deep and ask if it hurt, still." Dead parents - it seemed almost as if life was fleeting, not just for him or the people that he spend time with. Oh no. Even Azrael knew loss well enough. "So you've been at work for a while, then? Is the white hair from all the stress?" How old was Azrael, actually? Good question. "My father is a paladin and my mother has been immortalized as a saintess.", he replied, though, that could mean so much. "I haven't seen them in forever, I was raised by the church as was their wish."

"But many priests stay in the monastery, or near a town. Much as holy knights protect settlements, rather than seek out demons. Hunters are often different. I've been hunting demons too, but... I kind of prefer protecting jobs. Many hunters that have slain big demons think of themselves as invincible, it is mostly their downfall." Azrael knew of his weaknesses and if he didn't think he could win a fight, he wasn't too proud to run. Not all the time, if him staying and possibly dying would save someone else, he'd probably do it, but he wasn't suicidal. Additionally he knew of some potions, powders and runes, knowledge that most people, most definitely most churches condemned, but Ignatius didn't seem aware of that and wasn't offended at all. That alone was enough to keep to himself, he didn't need his head on the line too, only because he did what he had to to survive. Not using his knowledge was akin to binding one arm behind his back, why would he do that if he wanted to live?

"It's fine. You couldn't know and it's been a while. My father died even sooner than my mother.", Azrael simply explained. Ignatius didn't mean to hurt him and Azrael was somewhat over it all. It had been so long and there was nothing he could do to change the past. "Hm? My hair?", he then asked, pulling one of his white locks in front of his eyes. "No. It's just always been like that. Since I was born... well since I was old enough to grow hair anyway.", he explained. If not for his father to be a knight, they would have denounced him as a demon, probably. Once his father died, his appearance was only another cause to call his mother a witch. A lot of people weer curious about it over the years and a lot of people were surprised at his age once they got a better look at his face. "They didn't join the army?", Azrael asked about Ignatius parents. If what his church wanted to protect was so important, a paladin would have surely helped. "You don't look like a priest, clothes aside.", he suddenly announced. "Most priests aren't that tall, or young, or have flamboyant hair like yours." For all he knew he could be lying, but Ignatius seemed genuine. Maybe he should have checked if he actually went into the monastery at all, but now Azrael was just being paranoid.

“People and their ways of life are just fundamentally different often times, that much I know and that much I ought to respect. And still, you aren’t wrong. Perhaps they just think better of themselves, and when it’s all in their head, they don’t even know they’re already dead.” Before anything even started, too. There was no sense or semblance in some peoples actions, especially if they thought too high and mighty of themselves. Happiness came and went, often times at the very least, and Ignatius was one of the few that could say of himself that he could afford to he arrogant - even if he wasn’t without flaw. Still, even so, there was no need to undermine anyones authority and he knew that out here, away from the monastery, he did need to rely on Azrael and people like him. “I wish I had stories like that to share of my own, so you’d not feel like you’re the only one that has to tell of himself. Unfortunately, I hardly know my parents, but I do know that they’re very much alive and sound.” In a way, it proved to be almost unfair. Ignatius had it all, more than everything, too - and Azrael nothing.

As he sat up there and took the scenery in, he wondered if his life would’ve been different were he not raised by the monastery, only to conclude that it probably would have been all the same. His parents, too, were religious after all. “Who knows, maybe you were born with a full head of hair. Regardless, it’s quite the thing to marble at, you know? You don’t see someone your age with white hair that often … assuming you aren’t actually fourty and I’m currently insulting your seniority.” Some people cared for things like that, others didn’t - he’d seen both of those people and met a fair share of either during his lifespan. Truthfully, he tried to respect everyone that did the same. “Hm? Oh, no. From what I know, my father protects the town he lives in with part of the Holy Order that has its base of operations there. My mother cares for the sick and the church, but I don’t know if that changed. We exchange letters maybe once or twice every year, sometimes every two years. They’re basically strangers to me.” Much like he was to them, and he wasn’t sad about it at all. Truthfully. What was there to lament anyway? The lack of a relationship? Other people had it worse. “Huh?” His eyes still glued onto the paper he was drawing on, he raised an eyebrow. Before he could ask what Azrael meant, he already received an answer, too. “Pff, that’s just genetics. My mother has the same hair, my father is tall - supposedly. And there’s plenty of priests my age in the monastery, they just rarely are permitted outside the walls of one. Still, maybe you’re right, the superiors are quite lenient with your appearance if you excel in your studies.” Ignatius wasn’t a prodigy for nothing. Besides, though, Azrael was onto something else, too. Did he …? No, he’d not figure that out anyhow. “Come to think of it, have you ever tried your hand at magic?”

It wasn't like Azrael wanted to talk more about his parents right now. He barely knew Ignatius and it was none of his business. While his church had nothing to do with the one his father had been part of and killed his mother, he still didn't trust them wholly. Ignatius seemed nice enough, but he knew nothing about his superiors, or the reason for this journey. Thus he also needn't know of Azraels past. Stories thereafter were fine to share. Azrael didn't talk much, but if Ignatius wanted to hear another demon hunting story, he'd tell him one. His first hunt had been a mess, but he grew better and better at it with time, with nobody ever helping him. Hunters were often shunned by many and yet they didn't even get along amongst themselves very well. Nobody took time to help a child learn how to do their job and nobody gave a damn about anyone else but themselves and their own guild. Azrael doubted that other people were much different, be it priest, farmer or merchant. He didn't want to be friends with any of them.

"Do you know many people who are fourty years old and have white hair?", he asked Ignatius. Plenty still had their normal hair color, but it was true that it was hard to find people older than that. Though the church surely had old sages and other old people. His parents were still alive, huh? Didn't they have to be around that age then? Either way, Azrael furrowed his brows at Ignatius story. "So they just shoved you aside to be raised by someone else? That... why?", he asked. His mother would have never done that and he'd want to be close to her if she was still alive. He didn't quite understand why they would abandon their son like that? Well, he did, sort of. He wasn't surprised of the churches practices. "You definitely stand out.", Azrael mumbled and crossed one leg over the other. They had quite a long break today, didn't they? But it made sense to wait for their clothes to dry. "No.", he simply answered about magic. He could imitate minor spells with herbs and runes he could draw almost everywhere. While Ignatius hadn't been shocked by it before, Azrael didn't want to tell him more about it than necessary. He might take it wrong. A lot of that knowledge had been destroyed by many of the churches.

Their conversation was something to behold for sure - Ignatius would almost say that he was having fun, and if it wasn't that, he was at least not having a bad time. In a way, he liked to hear about who Azrael was and who he'd maybe be if not for the things that shaped him in his life, and yet, there was no way to say that for sure. All that the two of them knew was, that they were who they are because it just so happened to be the case, no? And for that, Ignatius couldn't shun anyone and he never would. Perhaps he was too soft, yet again, but who wouldn't be, if he was honest? All of them were just trying to get by and there was nothing else about it - it was silly, maybe, but it was pretty obviously also the best that they could do, alas. "Lots of priests, but you're right, they're mostly greying, not grey already. Then again, you do look too young to already be in your sixties." It was simply the truth - Azrael had not a single wrinkle that he could have seen, and if he was actually that old, he'd aged more than gracefully. Wasn't that debatable, too? He wondered. There could only be so many things he found suspicious.

As he was done with his drawing, he came back down from the tree and packed it up - he neatly folded the paper and stuffed it back inside one of the saddlebags, after which he wiped his fingers off on the still damp grass below his feet. All that charcoal had left his hands dirty after all. "No idea." Ignatius shrugged his shoulders as Azrael asked. It made him confused in his childhood, when he wanted nothing more than to be with his mother again and cried for her, perhaps, but frankly, by now, he was too old and unfeeling for something like that. Those childish desires had long been left behind. "Perhaps they wanted me to be raised in a specific image, or they were pressured too, or they didn't want me in the first place. At some point I wanted to know, but if I'm honest, I don't care. It's not going to change anything, the past already happened." The future was his own to make and the fact that he had to think about it all, why, he was simply left wondering if he had hit his head someplace and was going off the rails now. Was this what happiness could be? Perhaps. "I'll take it as a compliment.", he replied to the hunter as he grabbed a blanket of his own and hunkered down next to him. "Are you interested? I can teach you some things."

Azrael wondered if he should have hunted, now a fire wouldn't attract much unwanted attention and they could have had a nice meal. Well, the wood was still wet, so they probably didn't have much luck anyway. Maybe tonight, if they stopped early, but they were on a schedule still. They had enough food to come buy. Tomorrow was probably better suited. If he managed to catch something during the journey, they could roast it. Maybe he ought to go ahead a little bit, the horse was probably too loud for any animals passing them close enough. "Are you going to ask me how old I am?", Azrael wanted to know. Ignatius beat around the bush and he didn't feel like telling him unless he asked. He was neither fourty, nor sixty. Maybe he should let him guess? He got a good look at him now in the sun, he couldn't be too far off then, right? All the while he wondered if they could lead Njeri to the water so she could drink a bit before they moved on.

Behind him the tree rustled again and eventually Ignatius appeared next to him, sitting down too. "Sorry, it's not my place to judge.", he simply led out. There was no use fighting about the church, but it was interesting to know that they even kidnapped their own, not just gifted children from little settlements. "Not exactly a good thing on a secret mission." Azrael looked at his travel companion. If anyone ever got a description of the one carrying... whatever... they'd easily be spotted anywhere. "In magic?", he asked. "No. Besides, I don't think I can wield any. My father was a knight for a church. I am sure they tested my potential and there was nothing." Good. He didn't want to be gifted like that, he had his own ways and that was enough for him. Otherwise they would have kept him from his mother much sooner, wouldn't they? Maybe his lack of magic abilities also saved him from being suspected a demon, or worse a half breed, if those even existed.

This man was so secretive, he didn't even know what to make of him. On one hand, Ignatius wanted nothing more than to understand him and have a travelling companion that would teach him the ways of the world that he was yet to learn, on the other hand, perhaps it was better to keep each other at an arms length. In truth, it was hard to say - the outcome wasn't always supposed to reflect everything at all, and even then, one could guess their relationship by simply looking at them, he was fairly certain. "I am.", he eventually snickered. Someone had found him out and that because he was behaving like an idiot. Well, was Azrael going to tell him? It almost didn't seem like he'd be willing to, but they could still try, the two of them, to at least get some common ground between them, no? "Would you tell me, or do I have to stay in the dark? Should I go first?" In his head, Azrael was probably older than him, maybe not marginally so, but he could imagine that a few years of distance between them were plausible. Or not? It was honestly hard to gauge with a face like that.

"You simply asked, I don't mind." Ignatius also didn't care. This wasn't some sort of secret among the other priests and every nun that was a tad bit older than him knew of it as well - raising him, and a multitude of others, had always been a group effort. Perhaps to keep the morale high, or maybe even just because placing them in someones care that wasn't living at the church was bound to cause a mess eventually. "What do you suggest, then? Cut it off or dye it?" If Azrael had something against his hair of all things, that could be arranged to be changed - perhaps he'd be sad about it for a while but even that type of sadness would fade eventually, just like everything did, too. Time was something that always healed every wound, did it not? "Yes." Magic was fickle, perhaps, but it couldn't be hard to learn. "That's what they tell you?" Now, he sounded almost intrigued - but he chuckled, and frankly, this was a sight to behold. Azrael could choose to live his life the way he wanted, but that seemed oddly specific. "Magic potential? I hate to break it to you but I'm fairly sure that just about anyone can learn magic. Not just those with some bogus potential."

Azrael didn't mind sharing his age, but he rather had people straight telling him what they wanted, instead cryptically working towards it, even if he understood the question very well. "I am 25 years old.", he told the priest. Not forty, not sixty, not even thirty. There was no reason to hide his age, the information didn't help Ignatius one bit. Maybe he thought him to be inexperienced, he was used to being around old priests and other holy men, however they managed to keep save in those structures all the time. Did they save all the others around them? No. Azrael hated all the churches for it and he was sure that even the little settlement they slept in would be fed to the demons and the monastery would keep it's doors shut all night, should demons attack. Why else would they have a curfew? Whether Ignatius knew or not, it was true. There surely were naive people of the churches, ones who sought to help and wanted good for the people around them, but one shining paladin saving one or two people didn't make all the people who weren't saved or robbed not count.

Azrael looked at the priests hair and shook his head. "No need. Unless we know someone is following us, but nobody but us survived, so chances are slim.", he replied. Demons followed them, but no human and demons usually didn't rely on asking around towns. "I hate to break it to you, but you're wrong. You grew up amongst people who have potential, I bet most of you priests can wield magic, even if they are only capable of weak spells that hardly do anything.", Azrael replied. What a closed off mind. "Churches always used to kidnap or buy children with enough potential, claiming them as their own. Of course you will be around those people all your life. Whether they are lucky or not remains to be seen. At least they are protected for a while, unlike children like me. Not that I ever wanted their help." He didn't. After what had happened he stayed away from everything so called holy for a while. The only gripe was that churches paid well for disposable minions if they didn't want to send someone of their own. Even then, the churches were not all powerful and they didn't have enough men either. Even amongst those who could wield magic, full fledged paladins were few and far between and they were reckless idiots. Those with noble intentions mostly died because of them. "You know nothing about the world outside of your monastery do you?", he asked after a bit of a break.

Hearing that out of the hunters mouth, well, it was quite odd. "25? I thought you'd be older than that, maybe it's the hair coupled with the experience." Ignatius would recommend him to everyone that he knew, if he could, that was - unfortunately for him, there was no such thing - he had no friends, and even if there were any that he perceived as such, they'd have neither the need nor the funds for a man like that. Wasn't that sad? He thought of it as such, regardless of what it truly was. Perhaps he'd simply lost himself in the moment and now he was reaping what he had initially sown by acting all conceited. Why wouldn't he, though? Nobody had corrected him. All that he knew was that it was about growing above and beyond his peers, that he had to just tap into the potential that slumbered within him and that nothing would deter him from this if only he tried and did as he was told - that he'd grown quite haughty and arrogant, well, they'd all told him that was perfectly normal, especially when nobody could match his skill. Unfortunately for them, though, Ignatius had listened out of the goodness of his heart and not because there were shackles that bound him to the place he was at.

He nodded his head - the red locks were very much part of his identity, even if it sounded silly, but giving them up, perhaps he would truly be more than saddened. "I guess we're lucky it's just some minor demons that you already dispatched off." Surely, there would be more eventually, but he wasn't used to having that much going on around him, much like he wasn't used to having so much to do and so far to walk. Ignatius could stay here, all day long, even if Azrael was currently arguing with him. "They all can, but I don't see why that is important." Their abilities had only carried them so far - in the end, they were nothing but weak creatures that hadn't been chosen, and much like a snake could eat its own tail, they did, too. This was, perhaps, one of the silliest conversations he had had in a while, but Azrael went on and on and Ignatius didn't know what to say about his explanation, not at all. What was this supposed to be? "That ... sounds like bogus, too. There's no need to steal or buy things when they already complain about having more than enough maws to stuff." And yet, perhaps it was plausible, no? Ignatius hated himself for the thought. This was weird enough. Azrael, actually, was pretty weird and his opinion of the church fairly low, was it not? "No.", he was quick to answer the hunter. "Not that I ever needed to." After all, he was their messiah, and they'd flock to him if only they heard he was showing up in their general vicinity. This was, very much so, quite odd. "But nothing of that relates to the argument I'm trying to make. You just say you can't wield magic because you don't have potential, and you think you don't have potential because nobody ever was interested in it, if it hypothetically existed, no? You don't believe a word my kind says and yet you trust them on stuff like this?"

"What do you mean? I'm pretty old for a hunter... the oldest I ever met was 22.", Azrael answered. Life inside a monastery must have been so easy. It was odd really, holy energy, even powerful holy spells didn't deter higher grade demons and yet they left most of these holy places alone. Azrael didn't trust that fact at all and he knew what those priests were capable of. Even if Ignatius didn't know anything about it, then he was just stupid and naiv. He doubted that his church was much better than any other, they always thought they were the holiest of the bunch and if someone else tried to get a settlement in their territory, they even waged war against each other, catching innocent people in the middle. They even tried to recruit hunters to their cause, despite there not being any demon involved. Azrael didn't enjoy talking with Ignatius. He knew nothing of this world, he was naiv and he thought that everyone was nice all the time. He could have been a paladin himself, they always were this shortsighted and wanted to believe in their god so very much.

"There will be more.", Azrael grumbled and finally sat up. Maybe they ought to keep moving. "Because you know nothing else.", he explained himself. "What do you think why people like that innkeeper or me don't like your churches and monasteries?" It was because they didn't truly care about the people, not at all, quite the opposite. It was almost sad to see that Ignatius fell for such a ruse, or he was a very good liar. "That's not surprising." Keeping their priests in line meant shielding them from heinous deeds if they were truly believing in their false promises. "Trust me, my life would have been very different if I could use magic." And he could, the 'dark' kind that nobody was supposed to practice, but everyone could, but that wasn't what Ignatius meant. Alchemists have been killed off centuries ago, for no good reason other than keeping the churches strong. "Why do you think you know better? They had no reason to lie.", Azrael answered. This was stupid. He grabbed his boots. They were still a bit wet, but their break had been long enough. "You don't even want to be right, because that would mean your kind refuses to teach people how to defend themselves. They let them die or charge ridiculous amounts of money for some holy water, or they collect taxes for protecting settlements, which they don't really do. We're cheaper. Much cheaper. Which is why your kind usually doesn't want us around. I've lived out here for twelve years, trust me I know how this world works..." Azrael sighed and got up to check on his clothing.

“What? What do you hunters even do when you get older then? Die or retire? I mean, you’re living proof that 22 isn’t the cut-off, but there has to be more than just you, then?” It was odd to say the least. Ignatius wanted and needed to know what was going on - it sounded like some sort of ploy that had gone completely wrong or maybe even a congregation of people that knew what they were doing and that also, fairly surely, was aware that after a certain point, you just grew too weary. But even then, where did the others go? This world was full of mysteries and endless wonder, something that he couldn’t quite gauge at that big age of his, and yet, Ignatius felt like he was missing out on something, somehow. “I’m 24, but that still doesn’t mean I’m too old to be a priest. Or a knight, if I were one.”, he mumbled. In theory, those were secured positions anyway, but it was odd to hear something so outlandish and bizarre from Azrael of all people. So, in theory, he was an old man in his profession? And he was not making progress in that regard? It seemed to be the case, and yet, he seemed efficient.

“And I’ll be hopefully awake for those.” With that, he threw the metaphorical hat in the ring and knew that, eventually, he’d get to deal with those pests himself. Finally! This was what he’d been alive for anyway; Azrael was here for that, too, no? “Well obviously not.” Ignatius rolled his eyes. Why would he know anything else? The church wanted him, revered him as holy and he? He loved every second of it, no matter how he looked at it - every fleeting moment that he spent in the monastery, he wanted more of and then, once he’d been satiated, he had looked down on those who got less. What was the problem with that? “Because they don’t give you what you want or because you don’t believe in a god. I don’t blame you for it.” Ignatius didn’t care enough to be offended by such statements; maybe he was taken aback, sure, but he was quite laidback. “And why is that?” At this point, he got up himself and grabbed his clothing - he started putting it back on, uncaring if it was still wet or not because it felt as if they were fit to leave at this point. “You’d have been raised by the church? Would that have been so bad?” Azrael made it sound like it was torture, and Ignatius couldn’t agree any less with him. To him, that had been everything he ever knew and actually, it was better than wasting away in some good-for-nothing town with two parents who hardly cared for him. “I would know if something was wrong and I know, for a fact, that we don’t have the resources to take in every single person that bears magic capabilities.” His expression darkened anyway as he grabbed the blanket he just sat on and put it back in one of the saddlebags. “Trust you? On the grounds that you tell me that it’s the truth? I’d rather see for myself, thank you very much.” Ignatius wiped some dust off of his clothes in a fluid motion. “Also, I don’t know what monastery or church you lived near of, but I can assure you that the one that raised me wouldn’t dare do such things. You act like your experience is universal. It isn’t. Neither is mine.”

"Hunting demons is dangerous. We don't make it to retirement.", he told Ignatius. It was as simple as that. One wrong move and a mere human was just dead. Most demons were stronger than them, faster too, or they had spells and poison that would kill them after only a little while, even if the hunters killed the demons first. There were natural remedies, but most knowledge had been lost over time and the churches were rarely willing to help. Hunters sought out demons instead of staying away from them and they were the front line in any defense, just like they were in that little army Ignatius church had built up. They'd been the first to die, before the knights, before the priests. It was their own decision, but it was obvious why this line of work was dangerous. "Because priests and knights live a saver life.", he merely answered, albeit it being quite obvious. Priests locked themselves up in their big structures, especially at night, spending all their energy repelling demons from their gates. Knights only came in when the demons were already there, they didn't seek them out.

"No need." Azrael could deal with demons himself, which was his job. Ignatius was just a priest. "But you want to tell me how this world works?" Ignatius knew nothing and apparently had never been outside, but here was trying to tell Azrael, that the worls he lived in, was nothing at all like he thought it was. "What we want? They charge taxes and when it comes to a demon attack, leave their doors closed. People want to be save and not exploited, so if that's what you mean, yes." Hunters annoyed them, because they were paid per head and not even when nothing was going to happen. Azrael got back into his clothes quickly. "They would have probably killed me, before they took me in. Not sure what is worse." Both seemed terrible, being dead and being a naive sheep doing their bidding. "But you also don't teach them. Barely any priests can use magic either. Instead you charge people so much that children have to work to feed their families." Azrael with his thirteen years of age wasn't even the youngest to search for work, but most families had their own children work the fields or their stores and had no money to give to a stranger. Azrael packed away his blanket too and untied Njeri to lead her closer to the water so she could drink. "Fine. I'm done talking."

There was a bunch of things that Azrael said that were so far out there, Ignatius just pretended he’d not heard them in the first place. Why was it upon him to interact with this man and make decisions that went against all that he believed in? To him, this was bizarre and every waking moment that he spent toiling through the pearly gates that he didn’t recognize, he felt as if he was making one mistake after the other. How far could he go, and worse, how far would all of this go if he let it? Ignatius didn’t feel like the critique was warranted, but he knew better than to meddle with someone that clearly had a different idea of how things worked - he didn’t feel like messing with Azrael today, not in the slightest. Same went for any future outings. For now, he felt as if he could ignore the topic of the church and superficially engage with himself in his head. After all, who was he, if not a lost sheep? To many, at the very least, it made almost little to no difference and to him, too, it shouldn’t.

“Me too.”, he tacked onto what Azrael said and then let him lead their horse to some water; his clothes were drier than before and he didn’t want to complain about it any further. In fact, the disdain he had for rain by now was getting a bit more obvious - were it not for that damned water, he’d be more than dry, still. After Njeri had had her fill, the two walked back on their path again for quite some time; the sun continued fighting with the clouds all day long, but most of their exchange for the day was superficial and slightly more curt than before. Had he offended the hunter with his opinions? Ignatius didn’t ask, he could simply feel the shift in tone - and with that out of the way, he eventually found himself on Njeris back again, when his legs were tired and the sun was already setting. It didn’t seem like they’d sleep someplace nice today, either - would there be another hut? Or would they sleep out in the open? Ignatius was curious enough, so he allowed himself a question. “So, what’s the plan here?” Did Azrael have one? Perhaps. Maybe not. Either was fine.

They went back on their journey and Azrael purposefully picked a faster pace and put some distance between the two. When Ignatius rode the horse, he thought of going up ahead a little, but seeing that he never rode a horse before, he didn't want him to fall off and lose her. Azrael was sick of those priests that always acted holier than they were. In their eyes they always did everything right, if only they didn't need to look at what was happening right in front of their doors. Azrael was bitter, not only because priests killed his mother, but also because of other things he'd seen happening. Children being torn from their parents, settlements in flames with the holy places very much intact but closed off and poverty all across. He'd even seen settlements raided by people, settlements that didn't want to join a church and even though it looked like a demon attack, Azrael knew better. He knew how demons worked, what traces they left and so on and bandits didn't have a need to hide their actions.

Eventually it grew dark and Ignatius wanted to know what they were doing, supposedly. They'd sleep outside tonight, that was all. Azrael didn't know of a settlement nearby, nor did he know of another hut. He didn't want to make a fire either, not through the night at least. As an answer he only sighed, then led Njeri with Ignatius on top to the treeline and a bit further in. He tied Njeri to a branch, then got some things out of the seddlebags. With a few ropes he set up a tarp that would protect from wind and possible rain. He threw Ignatius sleeping bag under it after. "Stay here.", he mumbled. He wanted to secure the area like the night before. it was too late to hunt, the sun was already setting and processing the meat would take too long. They had plenty of food left anyway.

Ignatius wanted to know what was wrong with him, but he could only guess - there was no way he was actually being shunned for being a priest right now, and even if he was, he wanted Ignatius to tell him that to his face, as absurd as it sounded. Why were differences like these even a thing? Perhaps if no faith existed, they could all peacefully coexist, but then again, that would mean that having faith in itself was the issue here and Ignatius didn't really think that this was the key to it. So, what was he supposed to do? Scream and cry over spilled milk? Of course not. And yet, they both seemed short on words or really anything they could say to one another, be it because their horizons were in need of broadening or because both of them lacked temperament and didn't want to actually duke it out with one another. It was silly to say the least, and stupid, too. A sigh was all he mustered in return. Were they really supposed to be this idiotic with one another?

As he was led under their little tent for the night - if one could call it that - he sighed, perhaps in despair, maybe in annoyance or perhaps just to signal that he wasn't quite on board with it all. Regardless of that, he was entrapped in the unfathomable, vast journey that he was undertaking and if he acted any more human than he already was, maybe he'd learn one or two things, not just for himself but for Azrael, too. The redhead got off the horse and wanted to grab his sleeping bag, and yet, Azrael had already done so. Was he mad at him or not? This guy was weird, an enigma and perhaps even more lost than he could even fathom. But what did it matter? Ignatius did as he was told - he took his boots off and sat down on his sleeping bag with some of their provisions, putting some out for Azrael as well so he could simply sit down on his own sleeping bag - courtesy of Ignatius who had laid it out close but with a bit of a distance to his, still under the tarp - enjoy a meal and then go to sleep. There was no use in fighting and besides, they were talking about quite childish things either way. Not talking was boring, so he waited until Azrael came back. "Can I ask something else? Not about the church, anyway."

Azrael left for a while, circling the area, making sure no one else had been here in a while and then he started to make it save for the night. While he was at it, he also gathered a few herbs he found, putting them into his bag for later use. Some were for medicine, some were for alchemy and some were for cooking, if they ever did so. He preffered being alone for a while, too much talking was exhausting to him, especially when he had to fight over the state of the world he lived in. It didn't really matter and maybe he should just give up on trying to tell Ignatius the truth about all those churches. It was better that way, he got paid, that was all he wanted and if this proved to be too exhausting, he could find another hunter to accompany him, or an army, whatever it was. Even when he was done he waited a bit before he went back. He just sat there, enjoying some silence and time for himself. It was easier when he protected more than one person on their journey, then they could talk to each other and leave him alone.

Azrael sighed and got up eventually, walking back to their little camp. Ignatius had sat down and ate. He also put out Azraels sleeping bag, which he didn't need under the tarp if it didn't start raining. He crouched down to take some dried meat and then got back up again. He set down on a fallen tree and ate until Ignatius started talking again. It didn't take him long. "Can't really stop you, can I?", he answered. it didn't mean that he had to give Ignatius an answer to his question, whatever it was and he could only hope it wasn't about his life again, or his dead parents or magic. Those were all sour topics in a way and he didn't want to discuss any of it.

Ignatius nibbled away on both meat and cheese that he'd taken - perhaps, he felt much like a little mouse in that moment and was just doing what he needed to do to not incite another discussion between him and Azrael. If he didn't eat, he'd be a liability, so he could at least afford to not eat and make everything work for him and in his favor. That was what he figured it would be anyhow; he just didn't know how he'd get it all to work for him. As Ignatius wondered about perhaps the most simple things and marbled at the way nature warped itself in the depths of the forest, he was left to wonder if anything and everything that he did was righteous, or perhaps at least as good natured as he wanted it to be. "Well, no.", he eventually answered when Azrael finally opened his mouth again. Whether he was willing to talk about anything at all or not remained to be seen, but he could at least gauge a reaction out of him either way.

"Look, I think our conflict is silly.", he started off. Sure, but they were both at fault for that in the first place - he was, for bringing it up and Azrael was, for perhaps thinking he'd believe the nonsense he spewed. In the end, the two of them were barely making strides in their path, though. "But that's not about that anyway." Ignatius had already said so. "I just wanted to apologize, as I think you took offense to my words." This was the first way to rid himself of any animosity, of any conflict, of any pain that was shared between the two of them, whether they wanted to actually share anything or not. In the end, everything would fizzle out anyway - they'd go their separate ways and Azrael would be nothing more than a speck on the horizon. "I did ask you about any stories you might have that you'd want to share ... would you want to tell me one now? I'm fine with something recent, and if you'd rather not talk at all, I'm fine with that, too." Until he grew restless among the silence of the night again and started to question everything that he was, all at once, once more.

Azrael looked over at the priest who started talking about their argument before instead of asking his question. "That's not a question.", he simply told him. He didn't want to get into it again, Ignatius was stuck up in his believes and there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise. Azrael couldn't ignore what he saw either, not only years ago, but fairly recently too. He wasn't being paid to like this guy, or to start believing in his god as well, nor was he paid to entertain him. In fact he hadn't really been paid at all. He didn't apologize for maybe offending Ignatius and he just heard his words, but didn't add anything to them. Ignatius felt alone and there was but one person he could talk to and one person he needed to rely on at least for the next days, of course he wanted to clear the air, that was all this was. Azrael continued eating until he heard a question and even when that happened, it wasn't really phrased like a proper one.

"I'm not in the mood.", he answerd. It was as simple as that, he'd talked enough for today and he didn't feel like engaging in more conversation. Maybe Ignatius just wanted to gauge his skill, Azrael could be a complete fraud and he wouldn't know. The sun was still not completely gone, so once Azrael had eaten, he got out of his coat and got needle and thread out of his belongings. He started to fix up the hole the demon had ripped into it yesterday. "You still haven't prayed today.", he reminded the priest without looking up from his work. Maybe that would occupy him for a bit, until it was time to sleep anyhow.

He'd believed that some quick banter was in order, but he was shot down immediately, much like a falcon would be hit by a stray arrow at time. In a way, it saddened him, but it was both of their faults anyway. Alright then. Even as he was denied a story, he simply sighed and got back up - he dragged his socks over the forest floor to get back to the saddlebags and grab the piece of charcoal and the paper from earlier. He'd occupy himself, then, that would work either way. Why pester someone that didn't want to talk with questions he didn't want to answer? He'd gain nothing from it for sure, and he genuinely was not in the mood to meddle with Azrael if he wished he'd rather not say anything, be it stupid or idiotic, or simply inquisitive. Was there even a way out of this? Only time would tell, he was fairly certain of that, but until then, a lot of things had to change - that meant that, for now, he could only wait and hope and see.

"Alright.", he answered Azrael as he settled back down on his sleeping bag and started to refine the drawing he'd made this afternoon, to smoothe over some of the dents and waves in it as he let his imagination roam for a bit. Where to? When to? It was all predictable, much like it was but a few strokes of his hand on a piece of paper that would eventually not even live to see the dawn of someones next day. Was it hatred that drove the people or was it something else entirely? It ought to be but an idea in the back of someones mind, that much sufficed, for more than a few reasons. "And?", Ignatius was quick to ask, already busy with whatever he was occupying himself with, really. "I'll pray before I sleep, don't let me occupy your thoughts, hunter. I know what I need to do." Ignatius wasn't lost, or a kid that needed constant reminders - it had slipped his mind, but he didn't need to admit any of that. Why would he? There was no use in that.