'They were never going to make me a bishop? They will never allow me to rise if the voting is done like this. They only serve their self-interest and their masters. They will always find an excuse to pull me down. If this continues, I may only become a Bishop when my hair starts turning white.'
Sylvester was annoyed and frustrated, but not taken aback. For long enough, he knew that the church was not united anymore. The Pope may have done great to bring peace, but the Holy Land's internal structure was as rotten as it was during the war. So it was better to say that more than the outside, the inside of the Holy Land needed a crusade.
"Why, if I may ask," Sylvester questioned, but only stared at the Saint Wazir with his golden eyes.
Saint Wazir shifted uncomfortably in his seat. After all, the man knew better than any that Sylvester's achievements were enough to make him a Cardinal, let alone a simple Bishop. Sadly, he couldn't meddle in politics.
So, he tried to give a satisfactory answer. "Age, Archpriest. If we were to make you a Bishop, then you'd be the youngest Bishop in the church's history. Naturally, this may not sit well with the rest of the clergy, especially the Bishops. Jealousy may not do anything outside, but it can burn people from the inside, Archpriest."
"As I've noticed," Sylvester replied with a calm face, of course, pointing at all the mad Cardinals in the hall.
Saint Wazir nodded and continued. "As we know, you're also a God's Favoured. So, while it's noteworthy and prideful that you rose through the ranks to be an Archwizard so early, your rivals are still in the Master Wizard ranks. But the contest to prevail as the God's Favoured is not all about strength, but also mind, actions and heart.
"So, to make you a Bishop, it would be unfair to the others, as it'd be considered a win for you by default."
Sylvester didn't buy it. "So your understanding of keeping the playfields equal is to pull me down from my rise? I thought the church would appreciate having a strong member. Since when did we start quashing talent to not hurt others' feelings?"
Saint Wazir knew he was making it all up and felt embarrassed. "Still, it's a fact that you're too young, barely eighteen? Bishop is the rank of the higher clergy, requiring experience, time and age. Sadly, that's what the majority here think you lack, Archpriest."
Sylvester glanced at each of the Cardinals who were against him. 'Go on, play your faction games. One day I'll have your heads.'
"What now? My contribution goes unnoticed. All the life and death battles I fought were for no reason?" Sylvester questioned.
Cough!
Saint Seer spoke then. "Archpriest Sylvester, you have been doing high-risk assignments constantly since you were commissioned from the school. I believe it's high time you also experience some administrative duties and learn how the Holy Land works."
Sylvester didn't like the sound of it a bit. So he glanced at Saint Wazir to elaborate on this.
"Your next assignment, Archpriest Sylvester. From now onwards, you are to spend six months in the Holy Land and six months in field assignments. In addition, you shall focus on administrative duties as well and study under the direct oversight and tutelage of the Holy Father.
"For this time, you shall oversee this year's Season of Solis and ensure no mishaps happen during the pilgrimage. You may also train as you wish to better yourself."
'Nice! So I get to read the Holy Father's mind? And this is great. I wanted to take a break anyway.' Sylvester was elated inside. But he knew he had to show dissatisfaction.
"Are you stunting me? Forcing me to sit behind a desk when my best use can be in the fields, to fight the demons and bloodlings? What am I even going to do here? I've read nearly everything available to me."
"Perhaps that can be changed." Saint Wazir added. "At the behest of my authority, I can still do a few things for you. You shall get all the perks of a Bishop, including the salary and housing from now on. Not to mention, the most coveted perk, the restricted library only accessible to the higher clergy."
'These bastards! This way, they can shirk their responsibility whenever I ask for a promotion.' Sylvester read through the words.
"So I should stop even thinking about being a Bishop?" He questioned.
"For a few years, yes." Saint Seer chimed in.
Followed by Saint Wazir. "The Council has decided, Archpriest. You can sit among the higher clergy members, but we do not grant you the rank of Bishop."
Sylvester retained his disappointed expression. "I... I understand, Saint."
"You may take your leave now, Archpriest." Saint Wazir said, and the gates opened.
Sylvester stood up and walked out of the hall silently, not even glancing at the members or bidding farewell. He ensured that each one of them saw the moment they rejected what was rightfully his for their petty schemes. And that whatever may come later will be of their own making.
Thud!
Eventually, the door shut close with a thud, and many Cardinals in the room took a sigh of relief.
But just then, the Pope stood up and started walking away, seemingly disappointed. But he didn't leave without addressing them. "Do not assume I see not what just transpired. I see it clearly--What exists in your hearts. You should all fear the lord. If the First Pope was walking among us, he'd have cried tears of blood for your actions.
"Take my words with a due warning. Choose the right path, or don't come to me crying when you'll face the lord's wrath."
With that, the Pope left, but along with him went the peace of mind of many Cardinals. Of course, they knew that their actions were no secret. But today, they had openly shown their contempt towards a young talent who should, in all common sense, be heavily promoted.
After all, a shining young handsome man who could sing and create a halo was a much better preacher of the faith than a few Bright Mothers or some old priest.
Sadly, the contenders and many factions only saw threats in him. After all, he was the only man in the Holy Land with the talent to become a Supreme Wizard one day--To stand above all.
...
Sylvester silently walked out of the hall while thinking about his next steps. He really needed a promotion if he wanted to become the Pope fast. But, there were walls made of steel in his way, and he could do nothing about that as they all exceeded him in authority by a significant margin.
'I'm afraid I'll have to do something so major, so crazy that my name is known all around the East of Sol. My name should be on the mouth of every single clergyman. So much so that if they wouldn't allow me to rise naturally, they'd be forced to do it. But what should I do?'
"Sylvester? How did it go?"
Sylvester came out of his thoughts and looked. Lady Aurora stood in her battle armour, looking as great as ever. But in her arms was a big bouquet, likely to congratulate Sylvester. After all, becoming a higher clergy member was not a small thing.
Sylvester just shook his head. "They insulted me and my work, accused me of crimes, denied me my right. They are playing a dirty game of politics inside there, Aurora. In there sit people in the majority who want to see me lose and stay a lowly ranked nobody."
"What?!" She exclaimed loudly. "How could they? Most of those old blokes have never achieved anything close to what you have, and they denied you? Are they blind? Did the Holy Father not say anything?"
"Sadly, the Holy Father remained silent for some reason. Not only that, I have been stunted and barred from taking any outside assignments for six months every year. At the same time, they had the audacity to give me the perks of a Bishop and the salary of a Bishop--But not the rank--They say I'm too young." Sylvester made his dissatisfaction very clear because he was about to ask her something.
Lady Aurora appeared angry as well, and she had every right to be so. "This is beyond dumb. Anyone who voted against you does not deserve to sit in that room. I... I don't know what to say to ease your frustration, Sylvester."
"But there is something you can do to help." Sylvester glanced at her with a scheming smile. "Just a little thing."
Of course, Aurora was well aware of Sylvester's geniuses. "Please speak, my wise brother."
"Spread the word! Tell the Inquisitors that I was mistreated, ignored, and rejected. That all my grand achievements were ignored just because I am young. Let them spread the word, too, so all Clergymen know that their achievements mean nothing because, in the end, they will all be ignored. Let the clergymen ask their superiors questions about me. Let's give these old men the headache of a lifetime."
"That's all good, but what about your promotion?" She asked.
Sylvester shrugged and continued to walk. "I guess I'll just have to work harder."
"That's wrong!" She burst, appearing angrier than Sylvester. Understandable as she saw his struggles at each step. "You... For the faith, you still suffer in pain."
Sylvester moved closer to her and took the bouquet. "It's okay, Aurora. Let them play their schemes. As long as you and the rest trust in me, that's enough. In the end, the Lord will do justice--I believe him. Anyway, this bouquet is useless to me. Can I give it to mum?"
Aurora took long breaths to control her anger and nodded. "Yes--You can. God, I want to beat someone so bad now!"
Sylvester chuckled and walked with her.
"Young Bard! Wait there, please."
Sylvester turned around and noticed Saint Wazir coming towards him with a parchment in his hand.
Sylvester sensed the scent. 'He's... Frustrated? He wanted me to be promoted? But why is he here?'
"Please don't be angry at what happened in there, Archpriest. Those men are... A pain in the back for even the Holy Father. I assure you, we will soon find a way to bypass the council, but until then, please cooperate with us." Saint Wazir apologised, smelling of half-lies and half-truths.
"But I stopped you to give this." The man extended the parchment.
Sylvester took it in confusion. "What is it?"
Saint Wazir's face fell as utterly broken sadness became apparent. "An invitation to a funeral session... Funeral of the Fifth Guardian of Light here in the morning tomorrow."
"What?!" Aurora exclaimed.
Sylvester was speechless, and the parchment fell from his hand. "Grandpa Monk... Is no more?"
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