Conference

The church was a large compound encompassing the rectory, where the priests lived, the Cathar office, and the Beguine Orphanage. The building itself was old, with ornaments that felt both dusty and clean. The glass gave it a modern touch, while the dark wood provided a classic feel.

The three of them waited in a large conference room surrounded by glass. A long table with several chairs tucked in dominated the center, neatly arranged. Through the glass, they could see numerous deacons passing by in the hallway, presumably attending to the priests.

"Are we not offered chairs?" Pierrot asked Roy, but Roy remained silent.

Alley shifted uncomfortably, his feet aching from standing. He fidgeted with his hands, glancing at the Providences—watchers of the church—standing at the entrance like gargoyles.

He couldn't shake his unease. What could this meeting possibly be about? Given his history with the church, it was unlikely to be good news. Pierrot had told him he was also a Malach, but what could he do with that information?

Pierrot perked up as twelve representative priests from the closest districts of the City of Crowns finally entered. Roy straightened up as the archbishop followed. Alley quickly mirrored them, standing between the two.

The priests, their white robes sweeping the floor, moved with measured poise, each accompanied by a deacon, their faces betraying thinly veiled disdain at the sight of a new Malach.

"Good job cleaning the floor," Pierrot muttered, earning a sigh from Roy.

The ecclesiastical hierarchy of the City of Crowns was well-represented, with the archbishop at the head of the table, flanked by three Providence guards and an assistant deacon. He sat, a slight frown creasing his brow.

Pierrot couldn't resist a jab. "Always nosing into our affairs, huh? Rather than sending a proxy."

"Shut it." Roy's voice was a low hiss.

Alley stood rigid between them, trying to calm his nerves by counting the people in the room. Besides them, there were twelve priests, multiple Providences, deacons for each priest, and the archbishop.

Breaking the silence, the archbishop finally spoke, "You may proceed," his tone measured and commanding.

Roy, taking his cue, stepped forward. "Good morning, your eminences. This is Alley Ressula—our new Malach."

Silence fell upon the room, and all gazes were directed at Alley.

He bowed deeply, his voice steady despite being nervous, "Good day, your eminences."

Pierrot put a hand on Alley's tensed shoulder.

"His parents, Stephen and Fiona Ressula, ran a restaurant and volunteered at Arc and Co., a non-profit for the homeless," Roy continued.

He reviewed the folder containing Alley's information. "Both parents were possessed when we arrived, Mr Ressula being reactive and Mrs Ressula being stationary, due to some physical..." he glanced over to Alley as he continued, "...deterioration." He closed the folder and looked at the faces of the priests intently listening.

He proceeded, "Alley was with his little brother, and after a struggle with the active demon, it resulted in his successful tap. We're not sure what his type of light is, but we detected traces of flames and witnessed his white form, so we're certain. Isn't that right?"

Alley aggressively nodded, his head remaining lowered.

"The only problem is…" Pierrot chimed in, and the priests alerted in the blink of an eye. "Alley is a scrawny kid." The visible confusion on their faces sent Pierrot biting his lips to suppress a laugh.

"He's extremely unathletic, and this can cause problems if he's not trained." Pierrot clarified. "The light in his eyes is only visible at random, but after he trains, he will be able to fight and handle his taps better."

"I- I played baseball..." Alley muttered, his voice barely audible.

"You say the light in his eyes is small, so this means his soul is unstable," a priest said, trying to hold back a smirk.

"It's not small, nor unstable. It's blocked," Roy countered.

"Is that not the same thing?!" Groans and protests rippled through the room, as priests exchanged doubtful glances.

"It'll be problematic if his unstable soul gets corrupted!" Another priest shouted, pointing his hand in the air to prove a point.

"He will be a soul as a priest under the name of the church. If he dies from possession, our name as priests would be tainted!"

"The trust of the people is more important!" Another priest said.

"We can't let such a thing happen. The pigs would not let it slide and hunt us with it!"

The murmuring increased as another priest voiced concern. Some agreed and nodded to their notions.

Pierrot groaned in defeat. He looked over to Roy, who was clenching his teeth in silence.

"This guy..." Pierrot whispered.

"Send the kid back with a providence to keep an eye on him until we can fully say it's safe."

A whiff of panic passed by Pierrot, and he suppressed it. "Please, let's not do that, Your Eminences. If we wait, the kid will be in danger without Malachim's supervision. He'll be bait in the open."

The murmuring stopped. "So you're saying we'll take the bait under us instead? What happens if it bites? Will you take responsibility?" a priest asked in the quiet room.

Pierrot looked down, his jaw clenched, speechless. He knew Malachim had no power over the church, nor could he do something about the life of another person. How can they take responsibility if it happens again?

"I-" Pierrot started, but Roy touched his shoulder to stop him.

"Waiting is the right thing to do," one of them said, and the murmurs were back.

Pierrot's head was heating up. The next moments were a blur, he could only feel his eyes tearing in anger.

"So what do you think, Your Holiness, waiting is the right decision, is it not?" A priest asked the archbishop.

"WAITING WILL HURT THE CHILD!" Pierrot shouted in a burst, slamming the table in front of him.

All of the priests looked back, shocked by the outburst. The archbishop opened his eyes and stared straight at Pierrot.

He felt Roy's surprised gaze on him as he slowly backed away from the table.

Amidst it all, Alley did not know what to do. He kept his head low, feeling like he had no right to say anything about the matter.

Some priests sneered at Pierrot, and some even scoffed. Yet the man relaxed with a chuckle. "Haha… I'm… sorry, your eminences, I didn't mean to slam the table." He said, pulling off his best apologetic smile, as Roy could only sigh beside him.

He raised his hand slightly, gesturing defeat to calm the conference down. "I only mean that under us, the kid will be safe, and after some training, he will be able to handle his taps better." He explained in the slowest, most gentle way he could.

A priest stood up, and Pierrot noticed his hooded eyes raise as they followed his eyebrows. "How will we know he's going to make it?" He asked. "Won't he just eat the money we make?"

Pierrot nearly scoffed at the remark since he knew everything in the church was from the people of the city.

He balled his hands into fists behind his back. He relaxed his eyes and raised the corner of his lips.

Before he could reply, the archbishop raised a hand, and the murmuring stopped. "Pierrot, Roy, who was your mentor?" He asked.

Roy met his gaze. "Captain, Your Holiness," he answered without hesitation.

The archbishop released a breath. "Captain… who lost his arm and his ability to tap in a demon fight?"

"Yes, Your Holiness," Pierrot replied as he raised his head a little.

The room was dead silent as the archbishop stared at them from across the long table. They could feel the tension but only received the stare they were given, unflinching.

The archbishop finally stood. "Do as you wish. Report the new Malach to the Cathars." He said, flicking his wrist dismissively and exiting the room, followed by his assistants and guards.

"Thank you, Your Holiness." The two said in unison, bowing.

Everyone stood and bowed as he walked to the door. Then the priests followed to exit.

"Take responsibility, Pierrot. Make a clown of yourself," a priest taunted, laughing, whose name Pierrot couldn't even remember.

He kept the smiling eyes up for them to see.

As everyone else exited, Pierrot finally sank to the floor, sighing, while Roy leaned against the table.

"Does he even know what my name means? That ignorant piece of excess fabric." Pierrot mumbled.

"When will you learn to control your temper..." said Roy.

Pierrot looked at the two. "You're the one to say. Go punch a wall or something."

"I will," Roy replied and began to tuck the chairs into the table.

"Alley?" Pierrot tapped his leg. "You okay?"

"Yes..." Alley's body was stiff and mildly trembling.

He immediately stood, "You sure? You're pale as heck."

Alley nodded slightly, not meeting his eyes.

"Well then, let's introduce you to the guys. I'm getting hungry as well."

Roy, who was back from arranging, got his backpack from the corner, "Let's go."

"Okay..." he replied as the two already headed for the exit. They looked back when they noticed him taking more time.

"Alley?" Pierrot called.

Alley took a single step, and his whole body thawed in a snap. Numbness washed over him, darkening his vision, and his ears started ringing—then he collapsed, losing consciousness.