The Cardinal looked up from his manuscript and smiled as Father Aquantis entered the room. Age had started to draw lines on The Cardinal’s soft features. His salt and pepper hair was cropped short and in recent years The Cardinal had taken to wearing a small, embroidered skullcap to hide a growing bald spot. He adjusted his over-sized robes and motioned that Father Aquantis take the nearby seat. “The ritual is complete then?” He asked while pouring himself and his friend glasses of red wine.
Father Aquantis nodded as he took the wine glass from The Cardinal. “They were each given a Numenera and given their instructions. The latest crop has been assigned to The Wandering Walk.” He sipped at his wine, all the stresses of the day fading with each delicious drop.
“I’m not well informed about the Walk. Tell me more about it.” The Cardinal requested.
“The Wandering Walk is a road, if you can call it that. No one knows how long it is but many guess that it stretches the entire length of the world. It weaves through valleys, structures, mountains and forests. There does not seem to be a pattern or a reason to the road. It just, meanders. The road is dangerous at times. Many who seek to better their understanding of the Numenera begin pilgrimages where they follow the Walk for a ways. The Peregrines, a common nickname for the pilgrims, often bear blood scars that grow up their arms the longer they are on the walk.” Father Aquantis explained.
“Blood scars? What causes them?” The Cardinal looked intrigued.
“No one knows. But every Peregrine gains the scar eventually. It doesn’t appear to be harmful though.”
The Cardinal leaned back in his chair and it creaked under his weight. “Sounds like an excellent teaching tool for new acolytes. Very wise choice my friend. Now we wait and see what they bring back, if they come back at all.”
Father Aquantis nodded. He continued to tell The Cardinal about each new acolyte. A tradition almost as ritualized as the Order’s ceremonies. Both men liked to know as much about each acolyte as they could. In the early days of their tradition Father Aquantis asked The Cardinal why he wanted to know about each new acolyte. The Cardinal simply replied, “Everyone deserves to be remembered by at least one person after they die.” Ever since Father Aquantis slept better knowing that most of the acolytes would be remembered by at least two people.