Stone Wing: The Steinur Trilogy

Chapter 3

He had always hated the Church. Ironic isn't it? How someone who claims to have the strongest faith in God one being could have. He hated the architecture, the stained glass windows, the vanity of the humans who thought that God required such extravagance to be happy with them. It made him sick to his stomach that people genuinely thought it was possible to buy your way into heaven. All these things he hated, but the thing he hated the most were the stairs. There was always stairs. No matter how big or how small the church was there were always stairs. Like they seemed to believe building a place of worship on a more elevated level compared to the ocean would somehow make it more holy. The vanity was immeasurable. Jackson stood on the sidewalk of the bustling city street, his eyes scanning the tall gorgeous cathedral towering above all the buildings around it. A giant eyesore.  His lips twitched into a frown that almost could be called a sneer of contempt as all of these thoughts wandered through his mind. He couldn't believe he let Gabriel get to him like this. If you had asked him what it would take to get him to come to the Church for help a few days ago, his response would've just been 'No'. A bunch of young idealistic fools fallen prey to the ambitions of rich old men who twist their minds into believing slavery to them is the holiest pursuit they could follow. 

Jackson shook his head back and forth, the sharp contours of his face shadowed by the sunlight bleeding down onto the concrete of the stairs his legs began to climb. The rays flickering off the water left over from the previous days downfall like it was a crystal. Shining bright facets of light in all directions, enough to make Jackson squint and almost miss the glowing runes carved across the decorative stone pillars. Angelic runes, symbols of protection and concealment. They caused a slight burning just under his skin as he came closer to them. Their light seeming to bend and twist in his direction when he passed through them. Their pursuit caused that familiar discomfort deep in his stomach. Like how you feel when you are just on the verge of expelling the contents of your lunch. They were invisible to most. Anyone but Angels and the Exorcists who carved them there would be entirely oblivious to the Enorian words. They were designed to keep out Demons originally but now they followed the protocol of using them to conceal churches locations entirely to the spawn of the devil. The world was much less safe than it was a decade ago when the Gargoyles remained to protect them. At the very least the Church knew how to be practical. Soon enough Jackson swallowed down the discomfort he felt passing beyond the wards and pushed open the large wooden door leading into the lobby of the holy site. The floor was some kind of polished stone, probably a stylish mixing of marble with some kind of granite with the way the white swirled around the various different hues of rock underfoot. The fluorescent lights burned over his head, bright enough to give him a headache if the brim of his cap didn't shield his eyes from them. It was a Tuesday, so the Church was empty for the most part. There were various employees moving back and forth, carrying documents and what not as was to be expected. The Janitor stood wiping down the floor over by the bathrooms with a exhausted expression on his wrinkled skin. 

Jackson wet his dry lips with his tongue for a second. Took the time to mentally prepare himself for the meeting with his..acquaintance. A few moments later his legs began to move again, carrying him down the winding twisting hallways until he came to the far back of the Church. It was here he walked down a long dark hall, one lacking illumination from any source, that seemingly ended in a dead end. Jackson knew better. Instead he walked down the hallway with confidence, his boots thudding against the floor loudly, causing an echo to vibrate through the whole space. When he reached the place where the light stopped and the threshold of darkness at the very end of the hall he hesitated for just a moment, questioning his memory. Eventually he just took a deep breath and pushed forwards towards the door. What should have been solid matter faded away in a shimmer of faint light and suddenly the hallway was no longer a hallway. Instead he found himself in a long hall, lit by dangling lanterns which hung from chains attached to the domed ceilings. Their curvature engraved and decorated in mosaic tiles, depicting various moments throughout theological history. On both the left and right sides there were shelves upon shelves of books, traveling as far down as the eye could make out. Spread out in the open space in the middle there were various tables and chair, none of which looked to be in good condition or even remotely comfortable. At the very far end there was a large circular table, shaped liked a bagel as ridiculous as it sounded,  with the center hollowed out. All around it there were chairs, thirteen of them to be exact. The chairs had high backs and red leather cushioning embossed with little bronze buttons, clearly just for show. Despite the number of chairs there was only one man seated at the table. Jackson had been walking down the long space while observing. Despite his reservations about church the room was spectacularly beautiful. Much too good for the likes of the man awaiting his arrival.