Mikael Pacioli
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
19,565
Reviews:
109
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
19,565
Reviews:
109
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
2
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
III
Mikael demanded that no one make a big fuss over his leaving, and so they did not. His final meal was a quiet dinner in the hall with all the brothers, each of whom cast thoughtful looks his way but never spoke of what they seemed to be thinking. Mikael sat next to George and drank his soup as if nothing were awry.
In the morning, Father Pacioli went looking for Mikael.
The bedroom he had held since his change was empty, the linens stripped and piled up to be washed.
Mikael's real room - the one beside Father Pacioli's that he'd held since childhood - was empty, as well. The photographs had been taken from the shelves, the red wind-up clock and assorted craft items had been packed away, and the bed had been made up plainly. The single lamp, the artwork on the walls, and the shelf of books remained.
Father Pacioli left the room and went into the major sanctuary. Mikael was nowhere to be found, but a painting of the Pietà caught the light and suggested an answer.
Shortly, he found his son kneeling at the altar of the Shrine of the Virgin. Father Pacioli waited - in his years, he had learned to wait - and eventually Mikael lifted his head.
"Praying for intercession?" the elder man asked lightly, making his presence known. Mikael didn't turn around, but shook his head.
"Praying for protection." he answered.
Father Pacioli came and knelt beside him.
"Protection." he repeated. "From what?"
Mikael rubbed a finger along the chipping wood of the altar.
"From the world. From - from them."
Father Pacioli frowned.
"Them?"
"Men."
Father Pacioli was quiet. Mikael pressed his thumb against a knot of wood.
"She," he began, vaguely indicating the portrait above, "She looks out for virgins, doesn't she? Wouldn't she?"
Father Pacioli laid a tender hand on Mikael's shoulder.
"She looks out for all of us, Mikael."
The younger monk frowned, scratched his thumbnail across the spot where the wood protruded, and then looked helplessly up at his father.
"I can't do this."
The admission was heartbreakingly honest, overwhelmingly abject in its plea.
Father Pacioli shook his head.
"Yes, you can, Mikael. God will help you."
Mikael shook his head, then nodded, then was washed out in the flood of tears that erupted. His father came forward, squeezed him, held him close until the convulsions had abated.
Distantly, the bells chimed that it was 0900 hours.
"Mikael," Father Pacioli said gently, wanting not to disturb the young man unnecessarily, "It's time."
~:~
The jeep ride to the CEC would be a long one, even with the government's recent road repairs. Mikael was seated in the back, behind an iron grate, squeezed between two lumbering chaperones who blocked his window views.
The driver and passenger at the front wore identical uniforms and spoke in low voices to each other, and loud, clear ones to Mikael. They asked him intermittent bursts of questions throughout their journey - was he hungry? Did he need water? Bathroom? Was he warm enough? Too warm?
They offered him a pack of pamphlets and a small paper box, which turned out to be filled with fruit, a cracker sandwich, a juice bottle, and some sweets. He chewed on a piece of gum because it kept him from grinding his teeth.
The landscape whizzed by and he caught glimpses of it between the iron bars and the bodies of the chaperones.
He tried to look through the pamphlets - The Rules & Regulations of Wiltshire Carrier Education Centre; Welcome to Wiltshire; Your New Life As A Carrier - What To Expect The First Week After Your Change. - but reading in motion made him carsick and he stopped. After a while, he began to doze, and found himself waking against the cold shoulder of a steely-faced chaperone.
Then, abruptly, the jeep was slowing to a stop at the first security checkpoint and the passenger in the front seat turned around and smiled at Mikael.
"We're here."
~:~
Wiltshire Carrier Education Centre was a premier facility, one of the finest of its type. It served also as an experimental center for new approaches to carrier education, and had been the flagship for the now-nationwide Outdoor Access and Carrier Credit programs. It carried the reputation of being the most generous CEC in the freedoms it allowed carriers, but also the most stringent in the enforcement of the boundaries of those freedoms.
Naturally, Mikael Pacioli knew none of this.
~:~
In the morning, Father Pacioli went looking for Mikael.
The bedroom he had held since his change was empty, the linens stripped and piled up to be washed.
Mikael's real room - the one beside Father Pacioli's that he'd held since childhood - was empty, as well. The photographs had been taken from the shelves, the red wind-up clock and assorted craft items had been packed away, and the bed had been made up plainly. The single lamp, the artwork on the walls, and the shelf of books remained.
Father Pacioli left the room and went into the major sanctuary. Mikael was nowhere to be found, but a painting of the Pietà caught the light and suggested an answer.
Shortly, he found his son kneeling at the altar of the Shrine of the Virgin. Father Pacioli waited - in his years, he had learned to wait - and eventually Mikael lifted his head.
"Praying for intercession?" the elder man asked lightly, making his presence known. Mikael didn't turn around, but shook his head.
"Praying for protection." he answered.
Father Pacioli came and knelt beside him.
"Protection." he repeated. "From what?"
Mikael rubbed a finger along the chipping wood of the altar.
"From the world. From - from them."
Father Pacioli frowned.
"Them?"
"Men."
Father Pacioli was quiet. Mikael pressed his thumb against a knot of wood.
"She," he began, vaguely indicating the portrait above, "She looks out for virgins, doesn't she? Wouldn't she?"
Father Pacioli laid a tender hand on Mikael's shoulder.
"She looks out for all of us, Mikael."
The younger monk frowned, scratched his thumbnail across the spot where the wood protruded, and then looked helplessly up at his father.
"I can't do this."
The admission was heartbreakingly honest, overwhelmingly abject in its plea.
Father Pacioli shook his head.
"Yes, you can, Mikael. God will help you."
Mikael shook his head, then nodded, then was washed out in the flood of tears that erupted. His father came forward, squeezed him, held him close until the convulsions had abated.
Distantly, the bells chimed that it was 0900 hours.
"Mikael," Father Pacioli said gently, wanting not to disturb the young man unnecessarily, "It's time."
~:~
The jeep ride to the CEC would be a long one, even with the government's recent road repairs. Mikael was seated in the back, behind an iron grate, squeezed between two lumbering chaperones who blocked his window views.
The driver and passenger at the front wore identical uniforms and spoke in low voices to each other, and loud, clear ones to Mikael. They asked him intermittent bursts of questions throughout their journey - was he hungry? Did he need water? Bathroom? Was he warm enough? Too warm?
They offered him a pack of pamphlets and a small paper box, which turned out to be filled with fruit, a cracker sandwich, a juice bottle, and some sweets. He chewed on a piece of gum because it kept him from grinding his teeth.
The landscape whizzed by and he caught glimpses of it between the iron bars and the bodies of the chaperones.
He tried to look through the pamphlets - The Rules & Regulations of Wiltshire Carrier Education Centre; Welcome to Wiltshire; Your New Life As A Carrier - What To Expect The First Week After Your Change. - but reading in motion made him carsick and he stopped. After a while, he began to doze, and found himself waking against the cold shoulder of a steely-faced chaperone.
Then, abruptly, the jeep was slowing to a stop at the first security checkpoint and the passenger in the front seat turned around and smiled at Mikael.
"We're here."
~:~
Wiltshire Carrier Education Centre was a premier facility, one of the finest of its type. It served also as an experimental center for new approaches to carrier education, and had been the flagship for the now-nationwide Outdoor Access and Carrier Credit programs. It carried the reputation of being the most generous CEC in the freedoms it allowed carriers, but also the most stringent in the enforcement of the boundaries of those freedoms.
Naturally, Mikael Pacioli knew none of this.
~:~