Chapter 20: The Pawn and the Bishop

Today was a solemn day for the followers of light.

Outside Graheel's cathedral of light, located on the western side of the city, there was a large crowd of people in black. Many were followers of the Church, waiting to be allowed entry into the cathedral to pay their respects.

The Light Speaker, Balc Sheridan, had passed away. He was the religious leader for the Church of Light. The man was beloved by many and the crowd size had reflected that. It was a bigger crowd of people coming to pay respect than it had been for previous Light Speakers. The number was probably in the thousands and it would take days for everyone to enter the cathedral and pay their respects.

While everything seemed mostly calm on the outside of the cathedral, it was chaotic on the inside. Half the members of the clergy and laymen were running around frantically preparing rituals and service for the people outside, while the other half was entertaining the wealthy and influential that were allowed entry into the cathedral ahead of the common people.

Organizing the whole thing was the former Hand of Light, Sam Crowley. He was an older gentleman in his fifties with short salt and pepper hair. Sam usually wore long flowing white robes for his job, but today he had switched them to black for the service. He usually exuded a calm and welcoming aura about him, but today there were bags under his eyes and anyone could tell he was stressed and tired. He was currently standing in a hallway talking to a nun and priest about the preparation.

Crowley: “If we are to run out of incense for the ceremonies, tell the others that there is more stored in the basement. I had it prepared for this week. So, hopefully it will be enough.”

Nun: “Just for clarification. You want us to let in only fifty people every five minutes?”

Crowley: “Yes, until someone comes to tell you to stop letting people in, or it starts to look too crowded to you. Now, do either of you have any more questions?”

Priest and Nun: “No father,” they both said.

Crowley: “Good. Then, go with light.”

Both the priest and the nun present bowed and quickly ran off to do their respective duties. Crowley was then left alone in the hallways. Standing there, he suddenly leaned his whole body against the wall and started rubbing his eyes while sighing.

He was tired.

Crowley was operating on two hours of sleep. He had been busy staying up late organizing the entire event for the past week now. Sending out formal letters to all the bishops, expediting shipments of supplies for ceremonies, setting up an official statement to the press, and mountains of more paperwork that Crowley still hasn't gotten to yet. He would be busy for weeks to come even after the Light Speaker is finally put to rest.

The amount of work that Crowley had to do was exacerbated, because Sheridan's death was sudden. He was in the hospital because he wasn't feeling well. The doctors had assured everyone that Sheridan would be OK, and then one thing led to another, and the Light Speaker was on the operating table with surgeons and arcane healers attending him. It was sudden and rapid kidney failure. It all happened so quickly that there was nothing anybody could do.

If Crowley had seen his death coming, he would have had more time to properly prepare and wouldn’t be in this exhausting position. Right now all he wanted to do was sleep, but there was still so much more work to be done.

Nun: “Father Crowley,” another nun called out from behind Crowley.

Hearing his name being called out caused him to pull himself away from the wall and straighten his stance in panic.

Crowley: “A-ah yes. What can I help you with, sister—” he said as he turned and was met by the sight of a one of the many nuns in the cathedral with a man in a trenchcoat with a red tie and black suspender pants standing behind her. “Um, who is this?” he asked, confused.

Nun: “Father, this is an officer from the police”.

Mike: “Hello father Crowley. I'm detective Mike from Graheel police headquarters. I’m sorry to bother you on such an important day,” he said while stepping in front of the nun.

Crowley: “Right… I thought I specifically told everyone I wasn't seeing anybody right now,” he said while looking over the detective's shoulder towards the nun.

Nun: “I'm very sorry, father. He was very insistent,” she said, trying to defend herself.

Mike: “Please don’t punish the sister for this. I just have an urgent issue that I need your help with. I wouldn't have bothered you on such a day if it wasn't important.”

Crowley let out a long sigh.

Crowley: “Then please speak, my child,” he said while trying his best to hide his tiredness.

Mike nodded and reached into his jacket and pulled out a photo.

Mike: "There was a crime that was committed recently and at the scene this was found," he said while pointing to the photo.

Looking at the picture. There was a flat wooden disk that was small enough to fit in the palm of the hand. It had intricate symbols carved all over and was split in half right down the middle of it. Crowley also noted that there were a few droplets of blood on the strange looking wooden disk, indicating to him the degree of seriousness of this crime he was vaguely being told about.

Mike: "We believe it’s a talisman of cult origin. So, we were hoping the church could provide some information and help us in our investigation."

This was not an unexpected request from law officials to the Church of Light. The church from its inception had dedicated itself to fight the cults and their nameless gods. The church had accumulated an enormous amount of knowledge about those cults in their conflicts with them. Therefore, both governments and law officials would come asking the church for assistance in cult matters. However, Crowley believed he was the wrong person to ask for such assistance.

Crowley: “I see. I understand what you're asking, but you would have a better time asking the Witch Hunters, or one of our Light Scholars about this. They would have more expertise on this subject, and be able to possibly provide unique resources in helping in this investigation. I am just a priest.”

The Witch Hunters and Light Scholars were both branches of the church that specifically would have the information that this officer would be looking for. Crowley’s job, despite once being an assistant to the Light Speaker, was still that of a Priest. He was more focused on helping the community through organized charity and guiding peoples through their spirituality. So when it came to matters of cults, he was not as knowledgeable as others in his church.

Mike: “With all due respect, we did, and were ignored by both of them. That's why I'm coming to you.”

Crowley: “Really? Even the Witch Hunters ignored you?”

Mike nodded his head.

This surprised Crowley. While he did expect the lack of response from the Light Scholars, as they were always slow to respond to requests, he didn’t expect the same of the Witch Hunters. Their obsession with rooting out cult activity would be scary at times. In the past, during more dark times, there were stories of entire towns being burnt down by Witch Hunters in an attempt to destroy the cults. It was a brutal aspect of the organization's past that they were currently trying to move away from, and present themselves as more reasonable and less extreme than Witch Hunters of the past.

In fact, the Witch Hunter organization is currently going through extreme organizational changes right now to repair its reputation.

Crowley thought to himself.

Crowley: “Actually, now that I think about it, that makes sense. The Witch Hunters are going through a bunch administrative changes, but don’t worry. I'm sure they’ll still send someone to help you with your request. It will just take a little time.”

Mike: “About that. The main reason I'm here is that I was hoping you could expedite our request with the Witch Hunters.”

Crowley: “Oh, I see. I'm sorry, but I don't think I have the kind pull you think I do with the Witch Hunters. I'm just a priest.”

Mike: “Again, with all due respect father, you are a Hand of Light. I can’t imagine anyone else having more influence within the church other than the Light Speaker himself.”

The Hand of Light was a title that was only bestowed by the Light Speaker. It was just a glorified title given to an assistant that helped in the Light Speakers day to day affairs. But, the officer speaking wasn’t completely wrong in the title's importance. The Hand of Light had as much authority as an Archbishop, as they were supposed to carry out the orders given out directly from the Light Speakers himself. However, this authority only meant something while there was a Light Speaker.

Crowley: “I'm a Former Hand of Light. I’m afraid my title dies with the Light Speaker.”

Mike: “Surely, even being a former Hand of Light must count for something."

Crowley let out another sigh. He was annoyed.

He could tell that this person wasn't going to go away unless he helped him in some way. Crowley just resigned himself to giving this person what he wants, just so that the officer would go away quicker.

Crowley: “Fine. I’ll write a letter to the Witch Hunters. Asking if they could expedite your request, but I make no promise that they will do so, only that I will ask them to.”

Mike: “That’s all I'm asking for.”

Crowley: “If that is everything, could you guide the gentleman out, sister,” he said while turning to the Nun who was standing quietly behind officer Mike.

Nun: “At once, father," she said as she began to guide the officer away.

After those two were out of sight, Crowley was alone again in the hallways. He was rubbing his eyes.

Crowley quietly thought to himself.

He recalled the countless amounts of paperwork he had to do because of the Witch Hunters. Every time the Witch Hunters got caught in a scandal, he was one of the people that had to do damage control. Being the Hand of Light, he had to help the Light Speaker make a public statement and send out press releases every time that the Witch Hunters messed up. And there would always be at least one mess up somewhere every year. These incidents were causing friction between the main clergy and the Witch Hunters, resulting in communication between Crowley and them being less than pleasant at times.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The thought of the Witch Hunters was pushed to the back of Crowley’s mind. There were ceremonies to perform and preaching to do. He had no time to think about the Witch Hunters and would worry about sending them a letter later today.

Crowley straightened himself up and prepared to face the public that would soon descend upon them to pay respect to the late Light Speaker. As he was getting ready to leave, he noticed a woman standing at the end of the hallway.

The woman wore a black ballroom gown with gloves and a black wide brim hat. A black veil hung from the brim of her hat and covered and obscured most of the top of this woman's face and eyes. Her nose down was the only thing that was exposed, and from what could be seen of her face, her skin was pale. It was almost ghostly white with how pale her skin was, and accentuated the black lipstick she was wearing.

Everything about this person was slightly odd. She carried herself with an almost strange eternalness. It was almost like she wasn't there and would disappear if one blinked. Her aura was definitely a little strange for Crowley.

Her clothing and appearance suggest to Crowley that this person was one of the nobles that was visiting today. He believed she must've gotten lost and started to wander the cathedral halls.

Crowley: “Um, excuse me miss. Are you Lost?” he yelled out to the person.

As he yelled out, the person quickly moved around a corner into another hallway out of Crowley's sight.

Crowley: “Light help me.” He said flustered.

He really didn’t want to have the nobility here like this. It was a fact that the church would always give preferential treatment towards them, and he didn’t particularly like it. The church would go out of its way to give them private and exclusive access to rituals and blessings. Something many in the public would never have. If Crowley felt he had a choice, he would make all the nobles wait outside like everyone else.

He thought to himself in frustration.

Crowley was not a greedy man. His tolerance of the visiting nobility was born out of the good that could be done with the large amount of donations that was to be given. The money would be used to help fund soup kitchens and a variety of other services the church provides to the poor.

Crowley was thinking if he should go after the wandering noble, or get someone else to do it while he went about other business, when he heard another nun call to him from behind.

Nun: “Father Crowley! Someone is here to see you!” the nun yelled out from behind Crowley.

He thought with frustration as he turned towards the approaching nun.

Crowley: “With all due respect sister, I'm not seeing anyone at this time. I’m too busy—”

Nun: “Father, it’s Archbishop Beck! He’s the one requesting an audience!” she said slightly exasperated.

Crowley: “Oh.” he said that was then followed by an awkward silence between the two of them for a few seconds. “Right, Um. Where is his holiness right now?” he said looking a little worried.

Nun: "We asked him to wait in the former speakers office, while we went to get you."

Crowley: “Then he’s in the former Light Speakers office, good. I’ll go see him right away,” he said as he began to walk past the nun, but then stopped and turned to her. “Oh, right. There was a visiting noble that I think has gotten lost. I believe I saw her go down that hallway,” he said while pointing toward the hallway he saw that strange women disappear into. “Sister, would you be so kind and guide her back to the other visiting nobles.”

Nun: “Of course Father.”

Crowley nodded his head and departed towards the former Light Speakers office.

If this was anybody else, he would have simply sent them away, but this was an archbishop. They were the highest authority in the church beside the Light Speakers themselves. There was no way that Crowley could refuse an audience with him.

As he was walking, his mind raced as to why the archbishop was here. The Archbishops weren't supposed to show up for at least another five days to perform ceremonies. He was given no notification of any of them coming early. It was also not just any archbishop either, it was archbishop Khan Beck, the one who was most likely to be elected as the next Light Speaker.

Once the funeral for the Light Speaker Sheridan was concluded, the church would begin its long and arduous process of selecting the next Light Speaker. Archbishop Beck was the favored one to be selected. He had the support of many of the senior clergy and was the Archbishop of the holy city of Lavall, which historically, Archbishops from that city are favored to become Light Speakers.

Knowing that such an important person was here, made Crowley think that this was some sort of political ploy in the background he was unaware of.

Crowley thought to himself.

Crowley eventually made it to the front of the Light Speakers office. There were two guards in distinct ceremonial armor that had a symbol of a sun engraved on their breastplate. They were waiting outside in front of the office door. These were the temple guard, people who exclusively protected the Archbishops and sacred relics. If there was still any doubt in Crowley's mind that if the Archbishop was really here, it would be quelled by the mere presence of these guards.

One of the guards noticed Crowley approaching.

Temple guard: “Are you Father Crowley?” he said in a respectful, but gruff voice.

Crowley: “Yes, I am. I heard that his holiness archbishop Beck has requested an audience with me.”

Temple guard: “Very good. He’s in here waiting for you inside,” the guard said as they gestured towards the office. Searᴄh the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Crowley nodded and then moved to stand in front of the former Light Speakers office. He straightened his collar a bit and then proceeded to enter.

Inside was the familiar office space that Crowley must have entered a thousand times. It was spacious and contained countless important and sacred documents that were securely locked behind massive cabinets.There was a large desk that the former Light Speaker used to work at. In front of the desk there was a small table in between two couches that were meant for visiting guests. Sitting on one of the guest couches was Archbishop Beck.

The Archbishop was an older balding gentleman in his mid sixties wearing similar funeral robes to Father Crowley. He would have been easily mistaken as one of the senior clergy here at the cathedral, but Crowley knew it was the Archbishop. He had met and talked to him countless times before, so he knew for sure it was him.

Crowley:“Your holiness it is an honor,” he said as he bowed.

Beck: “Father Crowley, it’s good to see you again. Although, I wish it was under better circumstances. Please, come sit with me,” he said as he gestured towards the couch across from him.

Crowley did as he was told and took a seat across from the Archbishop.

Crowley: “About that. I did not receive any notification of your arrival. If I had known you were visiting today—” Crowley was interrupted by Beck raising his hand, signaling for him to stop speaking.

Beck: “I would first like to apologize to you. I understand that you are extremely busy at this time, and I would not wish to add to your burden if it wasn't of utmost importance. So first, I would like to ask for your forgiveness.”

Crowley didn’t like the sound of what Archbishop Beck was saying. It sounded like more work was about to be pushed onto him.

Crowley: “Of course, all is forgiven. Now, what is it that you require of me?”

The Archbishop cleared his throat before looking around to make sure there was no one else around.

Beck: “I have a task for you. While important, it does not require immediate action. It honestly could be done after the funeral is completed. However, it would require a bit of subtlety on your part,” there was a brief pause before Beck continued. “I need you to dispose of any unsent speaker decrees without anyone knowing.”

Crowley was shocked.

Speaker decrees were direct orders sent out by the Light Speaker to all church personnel. They were not just simple pieces of paper that were meant to be disposable. Those decrees determine the doctrine and can fundamentally change how the church behaves and acts towards the people. These were the policies that the church would operate under. Not sending those decrees out would be a betrayal of the highest order for Crowley.

Crowley: “With all due respect, what you're asking me to do is blasphemous.”

Beck: “It’s not blasphemy, it’s necessary. And, based on your reaction, there are unsent decrees,” he said in a calm, almost monotone way devoid of any emotion.

Crowley was surprised that the Archbishop had seen through him so quickly. It was true. There were still a bunch of signed decrees unsent.

Crowley: “Even if that was true, you alone don’t have the authority to dispose of those decrees!” he said with passion.

Beck “True, if I was alone in this. Luckily, the majority of the clergy supported me on this.”

Crowley: “What? How’s that possible?”

Beck: “Come now. You most of all should know how disruptive Sheridon's decrees were for the more traditional of the church. It split the clergy down the middle with those who support for the changes he brought, and those against them. But, now that Sheridon has passed, the side against his policy now have majority control over the clergy. And I am basically representing them here now.”

Crowley was very aware of the schism that the decrees cause in the church, but he didn’t care. Those decrees stopped the church from discriminating against people and redoubled the church's efforts on helping the poor. In Crowley heart, those decrees shaped the church into the institution that he always thought it was meant to be.

Crowley: “But even so, it goes against the founding laws of the church.” He said, hoping that invoking the founding laws would make Beck back off.

The founding laws were the original teaching of the Church of Light. They were rules all priests had to abide by and no one in the Clergy could change, or overrule. It laid out very clear rules on how speaker decrees were meant to be handled.

Beck: “Please, Father Crowley. This is not about protocol. Even if the decrees are sent out, they will be overturned. As you know, Archbishops and senior clergy can overturn Speakers decrees if the majority vote on it, which we will in the coming weeks. And, we will be overturning them in that vote.”

Crowley: “If you're so confident that they will be overturned, why even ask me to dispose of them?”

Beck: “It is purely out of convenience for everyone in the clergy. As you know, selecting the next speaker is already a long process. If those decrees are sent out, it will prolong the selection process, possibly dragging it out for years.”

Crowley just looked at Beck in disbelief.

Crowley: “This is a political ploy, isn't it? You're just doing this to help your bid in becoming the next speaker!” he yelled out while slamming his hand on the table in front of him.

Beck: “I’m doing this for the unity of the Church!” he yelled back. “Sheridan's decrees were insane. Letting mutants into our places of worship, even suggesting we allow mutants to get married. You accuse me of blasphemy earlier, but what of Sheridan's love of those sinful creatures.”

Crowley: “Those so-called ‘sinful creatures’ are still people. They are as deserving of the light's warmth as anyone else.”

Beck:“And they will receive the light's warmth in death, but in life they are tainted creatures. Their presence disrupts the church and divides us. More than ever, we need a unified church for the challenges we may face in the future.”

Crowley: “So, what? Should we also return to the old way the church did things? Revive the decree of extermination and try to murder all mutants, like the church had tried in the past. All so that we can please a few so-called ‘traditionalists’!”

Beck let out a long sigh.

Beck: “I'm not here to have a theological debate with you. This is something you're clearly invested in. I can assure you not all of the former speakers' decrees will be overturned. The church will still treat the mutants with more kindness than we have in the past. But, the point still stands. Those unsent decrees must be disposed of.”

Crowley: “And if I was to refuse?”

Beck: “I would hope you would see reason, but if not, then we might have to take drastic measures. In such a case, you might find yourself excommunicated.”

Crowley: “On what charges! I have done nothing that violated the church's founding laws.”

Beck: “You know breaking the founding laws is not the only way to be excommunicated. It can be done with a vote.”

Crowley: “Is the clergy you represent so unified that they would excommunicate a priest that had done no wrong.”

Beck: “Probably not, but if there is possible wrongdoing, then maybe.”

Crowley: “What are you talking about?”

Beck: “Let's say hypothetically there was a rumor going around. In that rumor it was suggested that the former Hand of Light had been poisoning the Light Speaker, and had been doing so for years. The poison had degraded Sheridan's sanity, making him irrational and allowing the former hand to secretly control the church from the shadows. If such a wrong doing existed, the church would have to take action.”

Crowley: “What? You would excommunicate me on a rumor. A rumor you probably started!”

Beck: “I was simply presenting a hypothetical, but if such a rumor did exist, it would be quite concerning for the church,“ he said with a sly, almost mocking smile. “ Such rumors of insanity would give some pause to fellow clergy members. After all, I'm not the only one in the clergy that thought Sheridan was losing his mind. If such rumors like that were going around, the church would have to take it seriously. The public would demand us to do something. At best in such a situation, the church would have to relocate you to an isolated abbey away from the public, otherwise we might have to excommunicate you.”

Crowley clenched his hands and looked down at the ground. He was trapped.

The threat was clear to Crowley. Either dispose of the decrees, or be removed from the church in some way. Does he follow orders, or does he do what he believes to be right? There was no clear answer in his head, and it was causing inner turmoil that anyone could be seen on his face.

Archbishop Beck sat there across from Crowley with an uninterested look. Clearly paying no concern to the turmoil the priest in front of him was going through.

Beck: “Anyways, I've said everything that was needed. I hope that you will do the right thing, Father. See you at the funeral five days from now,” he said as he stood up and proceeded to leave.

Crowley just sat there. He could hear the door to the office open and closing behind him, signaling the Archbishops departure.

He would sit there for ten more minutes lost in thought before he left to continue with his duties for the rest of the day, acting as if that conversation with Beck never happened.