"They keep saying God works in mysterious ways and hard to fathom from the mortal eye." Roy's voice echoed through the sparsely traveled hallway alongside Markus. "Then why is it that our budget was cut by the mortal hand?"
Poor Markus, an office worker and one of the Cathars, had just arrived at work at 6 AM, already facing his first challenge. He carried a hot coffee in one hand and a file case in the other.
"I don't control the budget, sir. I only distribute it," Markus replied, already tired. His bald head had saved him from a receding hairline, yet the dark circles and eye bags proved the stress of office work.
"Aren't you directly connected to the head priest?" Roy asked as they reached the office, holding the glass door open for Markus.
"Thank you, but no, I am not. I only receive emails and do as I'm told. If you want to complain, you need to go straight to high priest Abiel." Markus reached his desk and found some colleagues sleeping on theirs. He set down his case and coffee and turned on his computer. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to work."
Roy stood frozen, thinking of his next steps.
"Would you please just go now?"
"I will. Then, thank you for your time." Roy gave a small bow and headed out, leaving Markus sighing in his seat.
Once back in the hallway, Roy bolted straight to the head priest's office.
Roy heard about the news three days ago. When Pierrot came home from a Baksu job, he knew the budget had been cut. Now that their team was growing, they needed more money.
He could not sit still and let them starve, and neither could any of the Malachim take a nine-to-five job with the cases being thrown at them.
The shop was not earning, and any savings they had were for emergency purposes. He would not let this budget cutting slide.
He turned to the last corner when he spotted a group of deacons pass by and halted as he saw a familiar face.
"That kid..."
It was Eamon. He wore a white robe and held his head down behind a few deacons and their priest.
Roy at the corner, waited for the group to pass by and pulled Eamon out, a hand to his mouth.
The kid was surprised, a muffled scream escaped him.
"Shh... It's just me."
Eamon settled down when he recognized the man before him, who then removed his hand.
"Mister..."
"Why are you here? Where's your grandpa?"
Head held down, Eamon shook his head. "Grandpa..." Eamon looked up at him, "...he passed away."
"Passed away?" Roy was confused. "I'm... so sorry. That's so sudden. He seemed healthy the last time we visited."
"He's old."
"But last week he was still—"
"I-I need to go now," the kid interjected.
"Wait—"
Eamon who avoided his gaze, immediately ran back to the group. Roy sighed, watching the kid hide his hands in his long white sleeves, head in a constant bow, and continued to follow the line.
"Isn't he too young to be a deacon?" Roy muttered under his breath, and proceeded to the high priest's office.
────────
He sat in one of the offered chairs in a warm room, perspiring through his temples and back. Taking off his sunglasses, he wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.
Roy was told to wait in the room, since the high priest had yet arrived in his office.
It had been a few months since he visited the same office for the very same reason. Except this time, Pierrot was not here, since he caused a commotion from the last time, causing him and the high priest to have a personal grudge over one another.
So Roy decided her would come alone to appeal for their budget.
His thoughts were disturbed by the sudden opening of the door and the high priest entered with his assistant deacon.
"We have a Malach early in the morning, how rare." The high priest said as he walked to his desk and sat. The deacon turned on the AC and left them alone in the office.
Roy bowed. "Good morning, your holiness, Reverend Abiel."
"Good morning, Roy. How come you are here at such an early time?" he gestured to the chair beside his table. "Have a seat."
Roy obliged and sat down, sweaty palms rubbing on the knees. "I'm here to request about our budget, your holiness," he explained. "We currently have six members and the current budget had been cut when we needed more for the new two members."
"Hmm." Reverend Abiel pulled a file out of the cabinet on his right. "That is indeed a predicament." He opened the folder and wore his eyeglasses, and began checking the past cash flow of Malachim.
"Six members..." Reverend Abiel began.
"Yes, your holiness."
"Hmm, we can add more, tell Markus of Cathars he needs to update your profiles. The two members are not included in the current count."
Roy sighed in relief. "Yes, I'll report it to him. Thank you, your holiness."
A smile formed on the reverend's relaxed face. He stood up and bowed, when he suddenly remembered something.
"By the way, reverend Abiel," Roy stood straight from his bow. "The new deacon kid from the district of Blans... the chief's grandson..."
Reverend Abiel's face grew dim, and he clenched the document he was holding.
"I was wondering if the funeral of the chief went well. Did the church help them with the expenses?" Roy asked.
The high priest let out a shaky breath and smiled. "Why of course," he took in another breath. "The child was entrusted to us."
"Then you must know, your holiness, that the kid is one of us. He's a Malach."
"I-I see. That's..." the high priest gave a faint smile, unsure of how to respond. "He's just under our care for now."
"When the time comes, he should come with us."
"Indeed." Reverend Abiel nodded.
"Then..." Roy bowed one last time and exited the office.