the Power of Faith-3- The Pines of Rome

'Take this letter to the home of poor Brother Isaac's Mother and Father' The Cardinal said with sincerity- clutching the letter. He lowered it from his heart to the hands of the Monastery's messenger, Peter. Peter was not a Prayer, but had landed at the Monastery after his parents were murdered in their family home. The killers escaped unscathed and Peter was left at 12 years old- in a house drenched by the blood of his Kin. The Leaders of his community saw it fit to give the boy over to the church. Though his family had achieved significant status and accumulated vast wealth, they were never god fearing and taught Peter nothing of the Christ or any other deity for that matter. But somehow, Peter felt an attraction to serve this place. This entity he was introduced to. Since Peter had no information about the actual beliefs or customs of the church, he would have to catch up before serving his god on an intellectual level. After the boy was absorbed by the church and began living at the monastery his inherited assets were awarded to the newly appointed Cardinal Adalfieri. 

Adalfieri had been appointed as a 'Lay Cardinal'  and was assigned to give special attention to this same monastery. It was a surprise to the resident monks when he arrived for they had received no notice or warning.

He introduced himself as having ' Vested interests in this monastery, in service of our lord.'

'Peter I know you will be hasty, you have always made the distance to the town and back in 2 days. Can I trust you will be swift?' The Cardinal inquired releasing the letter to the boy, only half his height.

'Ofcourse!' Peter barked at attention.' The rain has let up, but I fear it will only be a few more hours before it starts again' He said looking behind him at the grey cracked sky. Not a single shard of blue was able to penetrate its mask. It had been raining for 2 days and as Peter was about to embark, he was thankful he could enjoy the weathers first respite.

'You've made the journey in the rain before haven't you? Surely it isn't to much to ask of a healthy young boy?' The Cardinal send bending down and patting Peter's shoulder. He then leaned in and whispered something Peter couldn't quite hear. Peter wasn't compelled to ask the Cardinal for a clarification and before he knew it he was stomping through the mud, on the familiar road into the town.

Peter had experienced these sort of black out periods before but wasn't all too worried by them. It felt natural and without having to conjure any sort of justification, it seemed as if this was a way of life not uncommonly led by all of the monastery.

Looking down at the letter in his hands, Peter saw the first drop of rain. Falling and landing next to the black ribbon affixed with wax. The drop rested on the paper a moment and then traveled inward. By the time the two had fused the letter was dotted by a dozen more drops and Peter hid it beneath his coat.

Peter looked around him at the soaking wilderness that surrounded the monastery and wondered if these trees looked anything like the pines of Rome. He wondered about his god, and he wondered about the poor Mother and Father who he was delivering the letter to. Brother Isaac was kind and Peter was sure his family was aswell.

Peter wondered about his own family

and the rain never stopped.