Project: TheirWorld - Chapter 031 - Part 1

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Secret

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TheirWorld

She found Pastor Jormund sitting in front of the door of Alta Noin’s cottage looking rather more like a lost little boy than anything else.

Learning more about the person he was made her look at him in a slightly different light. Everyone had secrets and skeletons in their closets. She wished that she didn’t have to worry about uncovering his.

Walking up to him at a slower pace than she usually walked, she tried to think of a way to bring up what she knew without offending him. Yes, Guin, because bringing up a man’s dead wife is the perfect conversation to have over tea, she thought to herself with a snort. Just how was she supposed to do this without destroying her relationship with him?

Standing over him, Guin called softly, “Pastor Jormund.”

He lifted his eyes, which seemed happy to see her even though much of their light seemed lost. “You came,” he said in a tired voice. “I rather hoped that you wouldn’t…”

“You waited.”

“If that’s what you want to call it…” his eyes went downcast.

Guin pursed her lips, and went up to the cottage door.

“Wait-” the pastor started, standing up quickly, but guin knocked on the door anyway.

“Mrs Noin!” she called out. Next to her, the pastor shifted his feet like a child caught doing something wrong.

When Mrs Noin answered the door, her face went alight with joy, just as it had earlier. “Oh, welcome child! Twice in one day - I wasn’t expecting anymore company! Come in, come in!” She quickly took up Guin’s hands and started leading her inside when her gleeful old eyes fell upon Pastor Jormund. Wet, glittering tears formed. “Oh… Oh! Jormund!” her voice turning breathless with a hand on her chest, the change in her face almost made Guin cry. It was as if she had seen a son sent away to war returned to her. Her hands left Guin’s, and she moved up to Jormund - cautiously, as if she were afraid that she might scare him away.

But the pastor smiled softly. “Yes. It’s been a look time, Mrs Noin.”

Rather than speak, the fragile looking old woman took him in her arms and hugged him, tight as she could. Sobbing into his chest, she cried. “Too long. Too long…”

The stoor together in the twilight, holding each other. Even Pastor Jormund’s face was wet. Leaning against the doorframe, Guin simply stood by and watched. It’s a nice scene, she thought. Too bad I’ll have to ruin it… She turned on her camera mode and made a frame with her fingers to take a screenshot.

“Oh! Come in, come in! I’ll put on some tea - ah! Guin and I made some sweets and breads earlier…” Mrs Noin said.

Jormund laughed, “Please, don’t fuss…”

Little Alta Noin turned around with an angry face, a wooden spoon pointed at him. “Ten years! Jormund! You haven’t been to this house in ten years! Are you a stranger? Let an old woman be happy fussing over you a bit!” she scolded with a shaky voice - but the happy grandmother could not maintain her angry image for long, and she gave one of her great smiles that lifted all her wrinkles, and pat him on the face. “Now, why don’t you and Guin go sit over by the fire. Go, go!” She shooed him in her kind, soft voice. Guin giggled as Mrs Noin winked at her. Jormund smiled for her, then slouched over with a sigh as she turned her back to him.

Staring at the chairs by the fire, Jormund looked helpless. Instead of sitting in them, he took to sitting on the floor in front of the fire. Guin opted for her usual chair, and they watched as the happy little old lady busied herself making tea, humming with a little swing to her hips that she hadn’t seen the last time she came.

“Ten years? In this small town?” guin asked the pastor, who was fiddling with a part of his clothing.

A faint smile on his tired face, he said, “Mhmm. What can I say? I am a coward.”

“A coward…” Perhaps it’s better if I just let him talk… She watched him expectantly.

The pastor nodded. “I asked you here today to share with you a story - a warning. Your desire to cleanse the forest is noble, but it is not such an easy thing. It is... Not without consequences.”

“Like death?” Guin asked quietly.

“Like death,” he acknowledged. “And worse than death.”

“What is it that you are so afraid of?” she asked him.

“You are young, Guin,” he told her. “Young and hopeful. I envy you.”

Guin chuckled and told him, “That’s not something a good priest should say.”

“I never said I was a good priest,” he told her, then laughed. “I never said I was a priest.”

“You’re the pastor here, aren’t you?” she asked, confused.

“I am,” he struggled to say. “By Bade’s standard.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

“I’m smart.”

“It’s got nothing to do with intelligence.”

“Just uncomplicate it then.”

Jormund chuckled. “If only the world worked in such an easy way,” he said. “I’m not… I am a pastor here only because I inherited the role of my mother. I am not ordained by the Imperial Church.”

Blinking at him, Guin asked, “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I am who I am,” he said firmly. “I am… what I am.”

Guin gave him a hard lookover, trying to seek out the hidden meaning behind what he said. “What..?”

“Is everything alright in there, dears?” came the voice of Mrs Noin. Jormund looked over as she came over to put the teapot over the fire.

“What… I am…” Silent teardrops fell down his cheeks.