The sound of the bell echoed through the dormitory as everyone stood up and headed for the dining room.
Damian quickly stood up and followed the others towards the dining room, he felt a pang of worry as he glanced back at Cassie. His sister was still sitting on the bed, her gaze absent and her body eerily still. The sight of her grief was like a reminder of the recent loss she had endured. He wanted to stay with her, to help ease her pain in any way he could.
But as the sound of shuffling footsteps and murmuring voices grew louder, he knew he needed to go get dinner.
'I wish I could stay,' he thought, keeping his gaze on her. 'But this is an orphanage; if I don't get dinner right now, I may never.'
Queen Ravencroft's Orphange was known for its prestige throughout the kingdom, one of the hallmarks of Thunder City, and its dining hall didn't fall short of expectations. It was spacious, capable of housing hundreds, if not thousands of children, its tables were long and wide, that kind of tables that fill the grand banquet of great kings.
As Damian stepped foot into the dining hall, he was shocked by its magnificent grandeur. He hadn't expected anything this impressive; the dormitory was just okay, but this was something else.
'What in the—,' he thought. 'They really went overboard for a dining hall.'
"Settle in children," one of the orphanages staff said, as they ushered in the children into the dinning hall. The seating arrangements were based on age appearance, the younger-looking children sat at the front rows of the dining table, and the older ones were obviously at the back row. Damian, who appeared to be in his mid-teens, sat at the back of the table. Surprisingly, Agnes was to his left, and she gave him a wide smile as she sat down.
He returned the smile, though his gaze flicked back towards the dormitory room, where he had left Cassie sitting on the bed, lost in her grief. The thought of her alone in their temporary space tugged in his mind.
Agnes noticed Damian's gaze flickering back towards the direction of the dormitory room. Sensing his concern, she leaned in slightly and spoke up, her voice gentle and understanding.
"Worried about Cassie, aren't you?" She asked.
"Yeah."
Agnes gave a small nod, her expression empathetic. She shifted slightly in her seat, turning to face Damian directly.
"It's only natural. You've both been through so much. Losing your father... Coming here... It's a lot to bear, both of you."
She then paused momentarily, studying Damian's face for a few seconds before continuing.
"You're doing your best to be strong for her, even when you're hurting yourself, aren't you?"
"There's no other options" Damian answered. "I have to be strong for her."
Damian gave Agnes a reply that suited the moment, one that reflected his new role as the man of the Throne name.
Agnes understood the weight of Damian's words. She had seen children come through this home in various states of vulnerability, each with their own set of circumstances. Yet, there was something different about the bond between siblings.
"You're right," she said. "You're her brother. It's not only natural but admirable that you want to protect her, to be her rock. But remember, strength isn't just about shouldering everything alone. It's also about knowing when to lean on others."
'Wait,' Damain thought. 'I haven't even asked her name.'
"I'm sorry, I never asked, but what's your name?" Damain asked.
Agnes gave a little laugh, amused at the question, but he was right, Damain had never , not even once, asked about her name.
"You haven't asked until now, huh?" She said smirkly. "Well, better late than never, I suppose. My name is Agnes."
"And you're Damian, if I remember correctly. And that sweet sister of yours is Cassie, right?" She continued.
"That should be correct," he answered.
"Should?" she said, laughing mildly. "I hope so, I wouldn't like calling you names that aren't yours."
"..."
Agnes decided leaned in slightly, her expression sincere
"Promise me that you'll take care of yourself, too. It's not just about being strong for Cassie. You need to look out for your own well-being as well."
She reached out to his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze, as she continued.
"You can't pour from an empty cup, Damian. You have to make sure you have the strength to support her... and to grieve for your father as well."
They continued talking for a while, Damian telling her what she would definitely like to hear. He did this so as not to stand out among the crowd.
After the series of exchanges, the Matron stepped in and instructed everyone to stand up for a minute of prayer before the meal was served.
"Children," she called out.
At the sound of her voice, every child, including Agnes—rose swiftly to their feet. Damian followed suit, brushing dust from his tunic as he stood beside Agnes.
Heads bowed, and hands clasped, as the prayer began. The hall fell into stillness. Even the flicker of candlelight seemed still.
"Oh Goddess.
Through your appointed intercessor the Holy Princess.
We pray, let us remember this meal not just as food upon our table—but as mercy granted to orphans in need.
We carry burdens known only to us and to you.
Remember your lost kin with love… but do not let sorrow keep them from sustenance.
We pray, for the protection of your exorcists, as they fight day and night to quench the darkness that creeps this world.
May we eat well tonight… so we may face tomorrow."
Then, a brief pause filled only by breath and silence.
"In Her name..."
The children then responded.
After the prayer, the Matron opened her eyes and gave everyone a small nod.
"Sit, children," she said. "—and eat. And remember always to be grateful."
The staff moved about efficiently, portioning out generous servings onto the children's plates. The scent of fresh stew filled the air, a promise of warmth and comfort to those who had found themselves in this place.
The younger children dug into their meals with fervor, clearly famished. Some of the older kids ate more reservedly, but even they seemed appreciative of the hot meal.
Agnes glanced over at Damian, watching him over her own bowl of stew.
"Eat up," she said. "You need nourishment now then ever."