yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-04-13 04:55 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-04-13 04:55 pm
Entry tags:
64;
Title: Nom omne quod nitet aurum est.
Characters: England (and a little mention of Spain)
Rating: G
For 50scenes' 'Church'. The title is Latin for 'Not all that shines is gold', aka 'All that glitters is not gold'. The church featured is the Church of Canterbury, which (by the time the Protestant Church came around) had seven cartloads of gold in it. It was a popular place to pilgrimage in England, one of the most famous.
He had seen it being built, beautiful and strong (he had stood with Spain and glorified it, had bragged about how wonderful it looked, even in its earliest stages). He had seen the so-called saint, for whom the church was named for, and had seen him die. He had seen the way so many people flocked to Canterbury to see the remains, to pray on their pilgrimage.
And now he stood as the church was pillaged, as cartloads upon cartloads of gold shuffled out of the town – he already counted three, and there were more on the way – and as they moved out of Canterbury, he felt at a loss. Fingers searched and found the stolen gold cross in his pocket, wrapped in ivory chord, and he gripped it tight.
It launched through the air as fast as his arm could have thrown it, landing smartly on the top of a pile of riches of a passing cart. It was over with, at least for him, and he didn’t even mind the tears streaking down.
Later, he’d muse to his colony of how hard it was to just throw away your religion and place your faith in another one, and how no one (no one) would understand.
Characters: England (and a little mention of Spain)
Rating: G
For 50scenes' 'Church'. The title is Latin for 'Not all that shines is gold', aka 'All that glitters is not gold'. The church featured is the Church of Canterbury, which (by the time the Protestant Church came around) had seven cartloads of gold in it. It was a popular place to pilgrimage in England, one of the most famous.
He had seen it being built, beautiful and strong (he had stood with Spain and glorified it, had bragged about how wonderful it looked, even in its earliest stages). He had seen the so-called saint, for whom the church was named for, and had seen him die. He had seen the way so many people flocked to Canterbury to see the remains, to pray on their pilgrimage.
And now he stood as the church was pillaged, as cartloads upon cartloads of gold shuffled out of the town – he already counted three, and there were more on the way – and as they moved out of Canterbury, he felt at a loss. Fingers searched and found the stolen gold cross in his pocket, wrapped in ivory chord, and he gripped it tight.
It launched through the air as fast as his arm could have thrown it, landing smartly on the top of a pile of riches of a passing cart. It was over with, at least for him, and he didn’t even mind the tears streaking down.
Later, he’d muse to his colony of how hard it was to just throw away your religion and place your faith in another one, and how no one (no one) would understand.