It had been hours since the Bishop and the Chosen 'took' their own lives.
Immediately after the Chosen had gotten the story and confirmed exactly what had happened, the aspirants had been moved from the chapel to a wide, stout room with no windows and a single door.
Lanterns burned on all four walls of the room, their light spilling over and illuminating the place, but it was not bright enough to be more than dim.
No one had spoken since. Or at least, no one had spoken to anyone that was not their paired partner.
The silence that filled the room felt like a hidden presence, listening to their heartbeats. It was broken only by the occasional shuddered breath or the creak of someone shifting on their bench.
Grief wasn't the right word for the emotion that filled the room. Most of them hadn't known the Bishop for long, after all, they'd been raised in other cities and brought here for their trials.
