"You still won't tell me where that ring came from?"
The ring she spoke of was carved from lapis veined with jade. It was a woman's ring and it barely fit on the smallest finger of his left hand, some peasant's from the shingles engagement gift to his beloved, probably worth more than he'd earned in his three best years. It was the first thing Emanuel had stolen for Gaedren and the only thing he'd ever managed to keep for himself. It was the only thing in the world he felt was truly his, that belonged to him. Despite that, he'd spent years looking for the man he'd lifted it from so he could return it with whatever apology he could muster. To date he'd not found the man, he could even be dead now and Emanuel would never know of it; it had been fifteen years, after all.
"No, I won't." He frowned and furrowed his brow, on his gaunt face the expression made him look twenty years older than his own twenty-five. "You know I won't, Mother Korine, just like you know where it came from, or when, anyway. I've worked very hard to leave that man, and that boy, behind me. I have no desire to revisit the matter." He pushed his limp, straw colored hair out of his face as he crouched on the floor of Korine's already claustrophobic office, penning his own letters of introduction to prospective employers.
"Then why keep it?" The aged priestess of Abadar and undersecretary to Archbanker Darb Tuttle arched an eyebrow credulously, "it seems to cause you so much pain."
It was an oft played conversation, Korine probing for a real answer to the origin of ring, Emanuel ducking and deflecting her questions with inexpert lack of grace, "Because I don't like animals," he lied, "and the Theunexus doesn't supply their graduates with appropriate items to bond. I couldn't ask for yet more gold from the church to purchase something. You took me in when I was a boy, despite who I belonged to, you raised me, taught me and then paid for my education, such as it was. It's time I gave something back." He spoke with a finality he hoped would end the conversation, as he sign his name to yet one more missive before sealing it with black wax.
Korine sighed and swept her long, white hair off her shoulders and behind her as Emanuel stood and stretched, one day he'd be ready to talk about it, she hoped she'd live to see it. "When you came to me you were a scared, broken boy. Whatever drove you here had left you skittish and unable to trust. All I did was give you someplace safe to come back to and enough attention and encouragement to allow you to find a place in the world. It's what every child is owed, and I won't hear of you thinking you owe me or the church anything... beyond the standard 20% tithe and naturally donations are always welcome, of course, but if you give, do it out of devotion not debt."
"Yes Mother Korine, of course. I'm sorry." Emanuel felt his cheeks and ears burn with his shame. It was only made worse as he realized how easily he'd been chastised, and how, after all this time, he still feared the authority of "grown-ups" despite being one, even the ultimately gentle ones like Korine. "I need to deliver these," he said and hurried off after snatching up his letters.
