Aldren
Bren, I thank you. Without your hand on this road, I might still be hiding from my own name.
Aldren inclines his head toward Bren, then turns toward the open doors. Morning light lays a pale strip across the chapel floor, and the village sounds gather beyond the walls.
Father Hallowell
Go in peace, Aldren. Your father's burden is not yours alone now.
Aldren takes one last breath, squares his shoulders, and steps out into the yard. He departs down the chapel path, the packet kept close beneath his cloak.
The Clerk
I have the record. The matter is entered, and I will keep it so.
The clerk folds his tablet against his chest and slips after the mayor's party, eager to be gone from the chapel's quiet. Father Hallowell remains by the altar, watching the doorway in thoughtful silence.