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on_holy_groundIf you were to ask Darius, he could point out to you every change and renovation that had taken place at St. Julien’s since the rebuilding of the church that had ended in 1240. He could tell you exactly what the Gothic portal had looked like before it was demolished, along with two thirds of the original façade, in 1651. He remembered when the well, which was now a planter beside the west entrance, had been inside the church and had supplied the water for baptisms.
He had been there for the placing of every stone and column, overseeing the original reconstruction of the church and helping with his own hands whenever and wherever he could. He had been there to oversee each reconstruction that had taken place since that time. For him, the church was more than just a refuge from ‘the game’, but was the place that he considered to be home.
When James Horton and his Hunters had taken Darius’ head, his quickening had nowhere to go, as there wasn’t another immortal close at the time to have taken it. Many believed that it had been lost, and all that Darius had been was lost with it. However, what they didn’t know was that the quickening had never left the church that had been his home for so many centuries, but had remained in the stone and wood of St. Julien’s. The place that he had promised Guillaume, bishop of Paris, he would always watch over, so many centuries before.
He had been there for the placing of every stone and column, overseeing the original reconstruction of the church and helping with his own hands whenever and wherever he could. He had been there to oversee each reconstruction that had taken place since that time. For him, the church was more than just a refuge from ‘the game’, but was the place that he considered to be home.
When James Horton and his Hunters had taken Darius’ head, his quickening had nowhere to go, as there wasn’t another immortal close at the time to have taken it. Many believed that it had been lost, and all that Darius had been was lost with it. However, what they didn’t know was that the quickening had never left the church that had been his home for so many centuries, but had remained in the stone and wood of St. Julien’s. The place that he had promised Guillaume, bishop of Paris, he would always watch over, so many centuries before.
