A man clutched his face inside the Flying Church; his forehead was damp with sweat.
It was Priest Jonas, the second-highest authority in the Church besides the Father.
"I... I didn't know our target would possess such... strength."
A voice resonated through his mind. You were careless, Jonas; you let a quarter of our troops perish.
Along with them, Saint Roch met his demise as well.
"WE still ha-have... Saint James..."
Foolish Jonas.
The spine of the Flying Church started to crack; a small hole formed in one of the vertebrae, and a thread escaped from it.
All colour seemed to leave his face.
"PLEASE, FATHER. I CAN FIX THIS!"
The string shot out; it impaled itself in Saint Johan's head. Drool began to leave his mouth.
"We will arrive shortly, Father."
Below the Church, in the shadows, a lone older woman had just returned from her detour. For whatever reason, the other nuns were scrambling from one place to another.
Maryam looked quite puzzled, so she walked over to one of the other nuns.
"Sister Terrence? What is going on?"
The other nun turned to look back at her. "Oh, Maryam? Where have you been, dear? Uh, how can I say this? A massive flock of crows came."
"A flock?"
"Yes, yes... they stole all our oil."
"All of it?"
"ALL OF IT!"
"That is not good." Maryam shook her head in disbelief.
Sister Terrence rubbed her face. "What will we do? We needed to make fried meat with it." The sister let out a short breath.
"I have an idea," answered Maryam.
"Yes?"
"How about we make soup?"
Sister Terrence just stared at her. "You are unbelievable... but fine, let's make some more soup. But if the pilgrims start badmouthing our soup again, I will blame you."
Maryam just nodded. "Good, I will be right back."
"Where are you going now?"
"I need to grab a cigarette from Anton; he owes me one."
Sister Terrence was left speechless, yet she decided she didn't want to deal with this now. And so, she left for the other nuns.
In another part of the shadows, Anton was watching the dark sky from beneath the Church. The smoke from his cigarette was drifting lazily through the air around him.
"Huh."
As he took another drag, he could only wonder what had happened. Why did Vigil need to command his crows to steal oil? Yet he could only ponder. But there was something else that was pressing against his frail heart. What was awaiting him at the Church of God?
"Anton, Anton... look here," Stacy's voice rang from his left.
Anton turned his head to look at her. He saw two things: one was the gloves that Stacy had been sewing for the past few days. They were orange in colour, with thick yarn; they were made... sloppily.
And the other thing that caught his attention was her smile. He didn't know if she had smiled after Oliver; if she had, he had forgotten.
But seeing his friend smile made him feel better about what the future would hold.
"You really did finish them?"
"Yes!" Stacy pushed the gloves towards him.
"I told you numerous times that your hands smell bad from how much you smoke. So at least wear these whenever you smoke."
Anton took the gloves from her; she quickly put the cigarette in his mouth, held upright by his lips. And so, he slid them onto his hands.
They were warm; it felt weird to have warm hands for once.
But they were comfortable.
If Anton hadn't thought of himself as a strong man, he would've shed some tears in this moment.
"I, uhm... t-thank you, Stacy... they are nice."
Stacy could only smile brighter; the scar that was visible on her face felt less visible for the first time.
"HEY! LOVEBIRDS!"
Both Stacy and Anton turned their heads towards the familiar voice. It was Maryam.
"Hey."
"Hello, Maryam."
Maryam pulled both of them into a hug. "What are you two up to? Sharing gifts without me?"
"Yes, that is exactly what we are doing," replied Anton.
"Hmm, well, Anton, my boy, I heard you had a gift for me as well."
"I did?"
"Yes, you do. A little bird told me that you will give me a cigarette."
Anton could only sigh as he pulled out another cigarette and lit it for her.
As Maryam smoked, she turned towards Stacy, who was quiet. "You alright, sweetie?"
"Yes... what do you think about the gloves I made for Anton?"
"They are lovely; I am sure he adores them. Isn't that right, Anton?"
Anton nodded silently, and Stacy giggled, seeing how much the older nun intimidated him.
"Let's make sure to take care of each other, alright?"
"Yes."
"We will; it's not like anything will happen."
Yet Anton was quite scared of what would await him at the Church since he had started enjoying living somewhat.
Then a bell was heard.
Ding dong... ding dong.
It was time.
It was time for the Flying Church to keep moving, to keep flying towards its final destination.
And so, the pilgrimage resumed without the three people who had left earlier.
In the opposite direction, Eve, Elyon, and Vigil started moving again.
Towards the Citadel of Aureth.
[End of Volume Two: Furlough The World.]