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swayed by the hand of the Taoiseach. And they’re a helpful folk, as he’s already proven.”

“It’s a start, I suppose,” Goose agrees.

The sun is just clearing the horizon, and its heat is already torturing all its dependents. It’s fascinating how reliant life is on something that causes so much misery with too much or too little of it. Is it possible our world is one of a kind like the Advocates preach? In perfect balance due to Susy? Maybe one day I’ll let my curiosity lead me as I used to with Elder, but it’s not important right now.

Goose and I walk briskly, fearing if we run it’ll spark too much attention. Once the bodies are discovered, the two drifters sprinting from the scene will be the first thing they recall. For some ungodly reason, it’s human nature to strive for drama, and we’d be the perfect remedy for these townsfolk.

“Have you ever wandered inside one of these places before?” Goose asks with an odd excitement. One that seems unnecessary for the predicament we’re currently in.

“Of course.” I respond.

“Oh. Well me too, but this is the first one I’ve been in that was so… so…”

“So beautiful.” I finish his sentence.

“Yes, but…no. So…miraculous! Beautiful isn’t quite enough. The way the golden sun above enriches each season in its own light, leaving you fulfilled whether you’re in the blazing heat of summer or the frozen icicles of winter. It makes me feel good just stepping into the place.”

“What’s with the sudden curiosity in Susy? You’ve never been a follower.”

“Not Susy,” he asserts. “Just the architecture. It’s so inviting.”

“That’s the point.”

I push open the large oak door with ease—surprising for how massive it is—and we step into the comfort of the House of Seasons. Just as Goose described, the golden light radiating down upon us gives a sense of warmth, but the cool ground below balances the atmosphere. Perfection, if such a thing is obtainable. It’s been awhile since I’ve been in one of these places, but this one feels different. It’s as inviting as the aroma of freshly baked sugar cookies coming from a baker’s home. Or the sweet nectar of a flytrap eager to dissolve your insides. Either way, it’s inviting.

“Goose! How nice it is to see you. I wasn’t sure if I’d have the pleasure again. How’s your sister doing? Her health is progressing, I hope. Please, take a seat. Let me wash your feet.”

A man with a very rugged overtone and dressed in a godly white robe welcomes us. This must be the Advocate he spoke with. I find it peculiar that words of such sincerity and grace are coming from someone with his semblance. Whatever. I needn’t be quick to judge, especially toward an Advocate.

“We are in need of assistance, Your Elegance,” I say to him out of turn. But I respect tradition and take a seat on the nearest pew.

“No need for formalities here, young sir. They call me Gunther Wormbit.” He extends to shake my hand before wandering over to the water basin for a pale of fresh water and a cloth.

I haven’t experienced this since I was a boy. The last time I worshiped at the House of Seasons was up north in my hometown of Redoak.

“Young sir?” I respond. “Like you said, no need for formalities. Call me Elder. Elder Alderock.” Goose gives me a sidelong glance, obviously wondering as to why I would need an alias in a House of Seasons.

“Ah, yes, of course. The Elder that Astor informed me about. The name had already slipped my mind. My apologies, Elder. Now…you have a problem that needs solving? How can I be of assistance?”

The old man kneels before me and pulls the new boots from my feet. They still smell of fresh leather. My feet haven’t tainted them yet. I can see Goose’s discomfort with this situation. Not having any experience with the religion, he’s probably wondering why a stranger would wash my feet.

“We have an urgent matter to attend to up north in the Crimson Capital. Yet, we have no ride. We could walk, but time is of the essence. We need to reach the capital as soon as possible.”

“Ah. I see. Well, unfortunately I don’t own a stable or any animals worthy of riding. This problem of yours, are you positive it’s worth chasing? If I had to guess, based on the energy in the room, the two of you seem to be making an emotional decision. Is there anything you’d like to talk to me about? Can Susy’s hand be of any assistance in this matter?”

“You’re an Advocate, correct?” Goose replies to his question.

“Correct.” The old man sits upright on the balls of his feet and pauses from washing my feet. He clutches his back as pain shows on his face. Goose sits down next to me on the oak pew. The Advocate scoots uncouthly and stops in front of Goose. He dips the cloth in the pale and removes Goose’s boots. Goose cocks his head and looks at me from his peripheral.

Goose continues. “I have two questions, then. First, why are you washing our feet? We’re strangers, and with you being a prestigious Advocate, why would you bother washing the feet of a man below you? It’s odd, right?”

The Advocate smiles at him and answers humbly. “There is nothing but the floor below me, young lad, and even that is worth washing. And your second question?”

Goose runs a hand along the back of his head and massages it. “You’re an Advocate, so if we talk to you, it’s in confidence, correct?” he asks.

“Yes, of course. Please, anything you need to talk about. I’m all ears,” Gunther says.

“Well…first, his name isn’t Elder, as you’re aware.”

“Goose! What are you doing?” I snap at him, ready to strike him for his stupidity.

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