Part 6 [interlude]

The dead of the night embraced him, and he turned away from the faint light of the moon. His body was trembling with a mixture of fright and delight. After months of failed experiments, the Holy Messenger had taken pity of him and appeared to him clothed in light in a dream, surrounded by a choir of cherubs. He had gently touched his head, anointing him with the divine spark of inspiration that he required to finish his final work. The day of his enthronement was near.

He humbly repeated his prayers as he knelt. His voice was low and breathy, his mind flushed with sketched imaginings of what was to come. It was clear what was needed for the retort.

It was barely a few hours later that his stumbling figure made his way to the church, determined to speak with Father Grandier.