The Power of Faith-2- The Gospel

'What makes your heart shake Monk?' The Cardinal said from outside the monks quarters, with a firm and resonant voice. It reeked of suppressed anger. Its tone begged to be sincere but was borne of hatred. A hatred the Cardinal knew as direction. His purpose was his god.

The monk was shaken and his tears ceased to flow. Now it was fear.' Whats that?' He offerers. The door still closed.

'From what ocean do you draw the water for your tears Monk?' The Cardinal spoke louder than before as he began tapping his black knuckle on the wooden door.

'G-god's ocean!' The Wino replied jumping to his feet and scrambling to open the door. 

The door now being open the Wino was frozen by the sight of the Cardinal. The only light they shared other than a small candle at the Wino's bedside was a torch burning in the hallway directly behind this red and grinning holy ghoul. The black finger still hung between the two of them.

'And why would a god as pure as our own be so generous as to waste his valued seas on the tears of a drunk? Of a fool? Of a coward? Sit.' 

The finger rose to Direct the Monk.

Without any effort the Monk stepped back and lowered himself onto the edge of his bed. All the while not once pulling his eyes away from this perfectly black finger, now looking down at him.

'I've come to offer you a chance to hide yourself from god, and leave the monastery.' The Cardinal explained lowering his arm. He took a step into the small room.

'Oh no I truly and honestly wish to serve the lord! Really Im sorry for my-' The Monk pleaded, with hope in his eyes. He did not want to be cast aside, away from his god's comforting light.

' This is the only way you can serve your god my son.' The Cardinal said, his Face erupting into a sweet and gentle thing. He took two more steps and knelt before the Monk. They were now at eye level with one another. 'You see son, we are men of the faith, we want the same things.'

The Monk was at first disturbed by this sudden change in the Cardinal's demeanor but quickly began to feel some hope. Some chance. He smiled subtly.

' Now we both know you aren't the most productive Prayer, and it seems you take to the bottle far more often then you do to the scripture.' The Cardinal spoke with a hint of forgiveness.' You just aren't the sort of soul our god wishes to have carrying out his will. Do you see?'

'I see' the foolish and hopeful Monk replied, taking these words as gospel. This was coming from his god's messenger.

The Cardinal reached beneath his cape and produced a long narrow cylindrical dagger with a point on the end and no edge. Tears welled in the Monks eyes but he didn't fight it.' Hold your tears Monk, you musnt be greedy. Take this in your Hand and pull it inward. You will be forgiven and no longer upset your god. Our god.'

The monk reached out and grabbed the dagger. He shook all over. Handling the spike a moment he managed it into both his hands, with the tip leaning on his gut. ' This is what our god wishes?' He asked with a weak voice.

The Cardinal nods.

With the blessing of his god, the Monk plunged the dagger deep within making no sound. The Cardinal cupped the back of the Monk's head as he slowly fell backward. He bled all he could and was gone.

 When the breathing stopped the Cardinal's face returned to its sculpted and naturally cold form. After sliding his hand out from beneath the Wino's head he stood and looked upward. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath.

The Cardinal's mind buzzed with the energy of a god that can only be pleased by perfection.

He lets the breath out.

Balance.

The rest of the evening was spent by the fire. Stirring his jar of ink with his finger.