Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.

Hosted by Denise, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.

Given how recent developments in our Serial Time Adventurers story are making certain characters hard to ignore, here is a little backstory(ette) on Cyrus St. Loreto and his relationship with the Order of Lilith. The second half, the flashback scene condensed from an old Order of Lilith Six.

Prompt word:

CURSE

Cyrus St. Loreto has been described differently by: reporters, would-be-fiction-writers, religious zealots and those in search of a metaphor to solve the meaning of life and their place in it; it is safe to say the least frequently employed characterization is he is given to idle thoughts and nostalgic recollection.

The owner of the Bernebau Company sat at the head of a conference table, his back to the section of glass wall looking down Brickell Ave (and out over the Atlantic) that would receive the maximum sun at this late morning hour; due to the magic of technology, he was bathed in shadow, even as his guest, the Archbishop of Miami, was making an impassioned plea for more investment in the community, all while squinting against the glare of the morning sun.

The curse of needing to maintain the image of a businessman devoted to the well-being of his community sometimes demanded a tithe on his attention, and, as a result, he drifted off into a considerable trove of memory.

“I trust you’ve brought what I’ve asked of you,” the softness in Sr. Schader’s voice was a mother’s smiling correction to a high-spirited, mischievous child: a personal indulgence available to the Reverend Mother of the Bavarian chapter of the Order of Lilith, despite, or perhaps because of, the softness of her voice this 3:00 am in the shadow of Brașov’s famous, Biserica Neagră and acquiesced,

“I have found what you …requested of me. surely I’ve earned the right to know what causes this, brass-and-ivory clockwork, to be so dear,” glancing down at the burlap bag with red-streaked cord binding, he smiled, “While 1885 is limited in it’s appreciation of technology, may I be of further service to the daughters of Lilith?”

“Were our respective progenitors not so very …intimately acquainted”, while the Mother Superior’s smile provided the italics, her eyes served notice that she remained the dominant half of the transaction, “But, alas, while gods might deign to live as humans, some of us divine from that choice, an insight into the limitations of immortality”.

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