Father" looked at me, his brown oak eyes steady and warm. As he approached, a righteous smile curved across his aged face.
His years showed in the deep creases etched along his cheeks and forehead, and his hair had long surrendered to gray, yet his posture was tall and commanding, not bent or weakened like most elders I had known. He wore a black cassock with a white collar beneath, his presence both solemn and strangely comforting.
Before he spoke to me, his gaze shifted toward Janie.
"His name?"
Janie blinked, caught in a haze of daydreams, then quickly straightened.
"Vince Huamán, sir."
"Father" turned his attention back to me.
"Oh, what a lovely name!"
I tried to smile, though it felt awkward.
The priest's voice carried a kindness, yet there was something about how quickly his eyes returned to Janie that made me feel like I was being appraised more than welcomed. He gave her a small gesture, clearly urging her to leave us alone.
She nodded and slipped out through the two large doors, the faint echo of wood closing behind her.
When we were alone, "Father" bent down to meet me at eye level. His hand settled firmly on my shoulder. His tone dropped into a deep, measured voice.
"Now Vince, as you know… your parents did not make it. A robber came in and took their lives."
The words struck like cold stone. I lowered my eyes.
"But do not overlook it," he continued, his grip firm yet gentle. "Here, in the church of Oeus, we take in children like you."
Take in kids?
"Vince," he went on, "it will be hard for you to process, I know.
But you will have food, safety, and people who will care about you here."
His speech was heartwarming, carefully crafted to ease sorrow, yet I could not respond as a child would.
An ordinary boy might burst into tears at such a moment, but I was no ordinary boy. I was a man wearing the body of a child.
Yes, I felt anger at the thought of my parents' deaths, a dull weight pressing against my chest.
But I had endured worse before… I think I had.
Guilt and sadness swirled, but my reply came flat, restrained.
"I see…"
"Father" closed his eyes briefly, then gave a slow nod. "Vince, let me introduce you to one of your brothers. Perhaps that will help cheer you up."
He gestured toward the hallway.
We walked together, the sound of his footsteps firm and deliberate while mine were small and light. Before we reached the first door, I couldn't stop myself. The same question I had asked Janie rose again.
"Will I be able to learn magic?"
The priest stopped. He gazed at me for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then he looked away, his tone suddenly low and grave.
"Magic? Vince… magic does not exist in this world."
This again?
My guess was simple: magic, or whatever supernatural things I had seen, was forbidden. Better to deny it outright than admit its presence.
"Father" rapped his knuckles against the first door on the left.
"Salomon!"
Silence hung in the hall. Then, faintly:
"What!"
The creak of wood followed, and the door opened. A boy appeared, perhaps nine or ten. His hair was a striking shade of dark blue, an unusual color that caught my eye immediately. His face was round and chubby, his grayish eyes unimpressed.
He wore a white cotton shirt beneath a dark wool vest, knee-length brown trousers held up by a leather belt, and small leather shoes.
A cap sat slanted on his head, completing the look.
I found myself staring, oddly fascinated by the careful colorway of his clothing.
Salomon looked at me, then at "Father," and in a sharp, disrespectful tone muttered,
"Another one?"
This brat! Another one? Such arrogance for someone so young.
"Salomon!" "Father's" voice cracked like thunder. He nearly choked on the words in anger. "You will show respect toward Vince!"
Salomon glanced away, lips pressed tight. His eyes carried defiance, but he held his tongue.
I couldn't believe this.
Was this to be my new companion? Why did my house have to burn down, only to bring me to a place with children like this?
Before the silence grew heavier, footsteps echoed in the hall. Another child appeared, a girl.
She wore a simple white blouse tucked into a dark skirt, a light shawl draped over her shoulders, and plain leather shoes.
Her blonde hair was tied neatly back, her gentle brown eyes lowered in respect. She lifted her skirt slightly as she bowed.
"Hello, Father."
I blinked, surprised by her manners. Compared to Salomon, she seemed like an angel.
Her name, I later learned, was Rosa Mallma. And the brat, Salomon, was Salomon Arotinco.
The days after that blurred into a strange routine.
I stayed mostly in my room, coming out only for meals. Speaking to children felt awkward. I was an adult inside, and the thought of small talk with them felt false. So I kept my silence.
At the dining hall, I ate quickly, eyes lowered. The others whispered, or ignored me entirely. Their laughter, their chatter, it all felt like noise from another world. I could not bridge the gap.
After about a week, another boy appeared. His name was Bryant Sianquiz. He had simple short black hair and striking green eyes that almost seemed to glow when the light hit them. Yet even with him, I kept my distance. The weight of isolation pressed on me, but I endured it.
Two weeks passed, and the church enrolled me in school with my siblings. I sat apart from the others, spoke only to teachers, and ate my meals alone. No one bullied me. Strangely, no one approached me either.
Perhaps they sensed the difference in me, the way I carried myself, the quiet walls I built.
Another month slipped by. My birthday came, October seventeenth. Eleven years old, though my mind was decades older.
I marked the day silently, no candles, no celebration. Just another year layered over the quiet loneliness.
By early December, two more children arrived. Ramona Allccarima, with brown hair and blackened eyes, and her sister, Lorna Huachalla, whose black hair framed her gray eyes. I didn't speak to them either.
I promised myself I would wait until I was older, fifteen perhaps, when I could manage a more natural way of connecting.
For now, I mostly found solace in short conversations with Janie. She alone carried a lightness that made me feel at ease.
"Father" remained busy with endless duties, his presence fleeting.
Finally, as the middle of the year arrived, "Father" gathered us all together. His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he spoke.
"Children, I have a special surprise. Soon, you will officially join the Church of Oeus."