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Even as far from the smoke that blew from his crumbling home in the distance as he could be, Mathieu could smell it more strongly than perhaps anything else in his life. He probably could have heard and seen the fire it originated from as well, but it did not register. He was too focused on the chaos both inside and outside of his body.
Him and all his brothers had scattered like cockroaches when they left the abbey and saw a man holding a gun. Everything else was delirium.
Mathieu had run into the field, then he was in the forest, then in some sort of ruins that he did not recognize. He thought he felt stairs below him, and he looked down, still running. Yes, there were stairs, but he did not notice them quickly enough.
His fear crescendoed as he fell, knees, chest, and chin hitting the ground in rhythm. He somersaulted down the path at the end of the stairs and rolled into a ditch. There he lay. How long? Well, he hoped that it was a far shorter time than he thought, seconds, not minutes.
Mathieu opened his eyes. He could see well enough to do what he wanted when he had his spectacles, but right now, the world was merely shapes and colors.
He reached his hand to where the brown stopped and the gray began, which he assumed was the ledge of a step. Indeed, he felt stone, and therefore the edge of the ditch. He sat up, and felt his chin, the side of his face, legs, and everywhere else that stung. There was a little blood, but the cuts were not bad enough to need to do anything about them, especially right now.
He crawled a little, pawing for his spectacles, but felt nothing but the stone. He took a step upright, and as he did, he felt the rosary beads tied around his wrist, teasing him into searching further, so he crawled a few more paces. There was nothing.
He walked a few more paces, feeling more confident now, and heard and felt an ear ringing crunch.
That was not what he thought it was.
That was NOT what he thought it was.
He crouched down and felt amongst the broken glass of what he had stepped on. It was exactly what he thought it was.
He stood and looked around him. A man could be running to kill him, and Mathieu would have no idea until mere moments before. The shattered spectacles could serve as a sign that he had been there, and now he had no idea where he was or had come from.
He took a few steps and almost tripped again. By this point, he noticed that he was hyperventilating and put his hands over his mouth in a meager attempt to compensate for the noise he was making. Tears grew in his eyes, and he had no choice but to stand there, mouth firmly shut despite the instinct to wail, and wiping his eyes. He stood like that for what he felt was a long time.
Mathieu heard running from behind him. He was about to die. He was about to be tortured until he died, and all he could do was clutch his rosary beads like a child would his favorite toy. It was a wonder that he even still had them on his person, and yet he had no time to pray properly.
Arms wrapped around him, and Mathieu screamed, sobbed, pushed the body away with all his might, and immediately felt sorry for doing so when he felt it. He stopped, his voice shaking.
“Rudeger.”
Rudeger took the hand that did not have a strangle hold on the rosary beads. “Oh, I am so sorry. I should not have shocked you like that.”
Mathieu fell against him and they hugged each other properly. However, he soon jolted back upright. “We have to go.”
Rudeger looked at him, eyes soft. “We can stay here a moment longer.”
“No. No Rudeger, we cannot. I am not ready for us to die. May God forgive me, but I am truly, truly not ready yet.”
“Mathieu. God has already forgiven you. The mob has calmed, and our sisters would like us to meet in the field opposite to the town.” And so, with a great burden lifted from both of their lungs, they walked, although Mathieu felt as though Rudeger were half carrying him, for he would have fallen to the ground if he were not gripping his dear brother’s arm. Together, their greatest care would be figuring out what ought to happen now that the abbey was burned, but that could wait.