Mahad went straight to the seashore to meet the person whom he was devoted for his entire life. He searched for the Teacher and finally saw him standing near a post which was already in the water. The monk slowly runs towards the Teacher struggling from the unstable path of the sand and the cilice in his right leg penetrates more to his skin having the chains pinning into his flesh oozing more blood. The monk practice corporal mortification as a requirement for his order. Whenever he has a work to be done that requires sacrifice of one’s life, Mahad needs to suffer from pain... Christ’s pain to be exact, to cleanse himself from sin.
The Teacher was staring blankly at the horizon waiting for the sun to come out. He recalled the man in the line a while ago. Another servant of his order called him telling him that the director of a bank in Paris was already killed by him. “No one in the Priory lives now. All are dead.” The man said. His voice is hollow. Upon hearing it, the Teacher himself already knew what will happen next. He gave the man a reward and told him that his work is done. The line was cut.
Mahad arrived at the Teacher’s location. As usual, the monk bowed his head asking for his Teacher to kiss him in the forehead. Without any hesitation, the Teacher does what he has to do.
“Teacher, the Grand Master himself is done.” Mahad reported to him.
“Good. What about the candidate?” the Teacher asked excitedly.
Mahad flashed a certain disappointment in his face for he had not found the person he is finding.
“Teacher, I have not yet confirmed the location of this man.” he finally declared.
The Teacher himself felt a little disappointment too but of course, there’s no need of rushing. Suddenly, something comes in to his mind - recalling the curator’s last act. It was obviously a plan of revealing the secret to the people. The legend that was already lost in time and was never included in histories. The Teacher looked back to Mahad and patted,him in the shoulder. “Go and do your work. I also have works to be done.” the Teacher spoke.
“Teacher, would you mind if I ask something from you?” Mahad asked making the old man stop from walking away.
“What is it, Messenger?” The Teacher turned back at him being queered by Mahad’s question. For the first time, he was being tensed. He was frightened what would Mahad ask him. You are just a Messenger - A servant that I should not be explaining anything.
“Teacher, what is your name?” Mahad asked.
The Teacher was expecting a more important question but what he heard was just a question where he found himself laughing. “My son, I am Janus.” the man declared and finally turned his back from his messenger. The monk, for the first time, smiled and finally left the place.
_______________________
Philip arrived at the office of the curator. He found himself standing in front of a door where a plaque was posted.
FR. VALENTIN DE SANTA CLARA
SLMP CURATOR
SLMP stands for St. Lawrence the Martyr Parish, the name of the church Father Valentin was presiding.
As he observed the door, he found a five-petaled rose in the wall beside the door. It was as small as the size of an orange. Why would he put a female symbol outside his office? He thought. As he observed the rose, he slowly twisted the door knob, but it is locked. Philip recalled the curator’s message. He wants me to destroy this door? Philip tried to bump the door but his mind was struck by the image of the rose. It was not an ordinary rose, but a rose only used by the Knight’s as a compass during those days. It is used to find an ancient artifact buried beneath it. “It hides beneath the rose.” Philip realized. He felt a bit stupid after planning to destroy the door. Philip pulled the rose, but nothing happened. He tried to twist it clockwise and counter clockwise, but nothing happened. He feel insulted of retrieving the key inside a small female symbol that made him pound his fist on it. Philip felt a chill when the rose pushed in and when he removed his hand, it sprang out.
A super secretive drawer vault. Father Valentin is really genius.” he said as he slowly glances at the object hidden at the drawer. “The key.”
Philip gets the key at the drawer, pushed the rose again until it’s lock, and inserted the key at the door knob’s key hole. He twisted it and a sound of click ticks in his ears. Philip twisted the knob and pushed the door. Philip found himself standing in front of two paintings. But there was a twist. It was not any religious paintings of saints, nor Christ’s, it was the image of the Renaissance paintings of Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci also known as Leonardo Da Vinci, Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino or popularly known as Raphael Santi, and Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, staring down at him, smiling like they are happy to see the man they knew who, could identify their master’s murderer.
Philip went straight to the curator’s desk leaving the door wide open. He observed that papers scattered in his desk but none of them would be of good help. It was all related to religion and schedules of daily masses. He searched in the room but found nothing except for one that really caught his attention - a jar with the same design as Philip’s. But this jar, it has a red rose blooming beautifully at the curator’s room. It was located at the top of the drawer. Philip approached the jar with a piece of rose and observes it carefully. “It hides beneath the rose.” Philip whispered as he tried to open all the drawers but it is all stocked. No one slid open. “It is locked.” Suddenly, he recalled again the Knight’s tale. A phrase that is popular to all historians that would surely tell them the location of the greatest secret hidden by one of the most underground secret societies in the world that could be only found in France. Is Valentin a member of the Priory of Sion? He thought as he holds into the rose and pulled it upwards revealing a paper having four lines of text. “It is a poem.” Philip whispered when a huge voice covered the room. It was the assistant priest angrily looking at him.
“You are the murderer!”
Philip was surprised realizing that he was in the curator’s room sneaking like a thief. He thought that he was being framed up. Is it what Valentin wants? Is it what they call The Will of God? He thought.
Philip stormed out of the room as the priest snatch his phone. “I found the murderer of the curator, and the couple.” the priest spoke. As he ended the call, he surveyed the room and for the first time, he had entered a Priory member’s room.
