Stepping into the church, James was hit with a wave of warm air. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the grand building and saw a level of wealth and history he had never seen before. Marbal statues lined every wall, standing alongside ancient paintings, each one depicting a moment of the children's history. Walking along, he didn't rush himself to focus on the mission and took a look around to get a feel for the security.
Many ability users were sprinkled in the crowd, each one like him, admiring the sight, some falling into deep prayer. Looking past the crowds, he focused on the priests and watched them. They would occasionally come over to the faithful and engage them in conversation, but for the most part, they spent their time cleaning the building, praying, or running from one room to another.
'Xavier didn't lie. Security is very lax.' Of course, James knew this was because she was in areas open to tourists. The deeper he went, the more that would change. Taking a deep breath, he walked on and made his way through, getting a rough layout of the floor, stopping and admiring the works of art around. His gaze stopped on one painting, however, and he couldn't help but be slightly captivated by it.
Walking over, he subconsiously reached out to touch but stopped himself and stared. It wasn't anything fancy compared to some of the work he had seen. Although a work of art he could never replicate in his entire life, it didn't show a grand miracle at work or a large scene. Instead of focusing on a single man, dressed in a beggar's robe, standing before a castle gate, with multiple arrows sticking out of his body. His face showed no fear or pain as he looked to the sky, his hands clasped in prayer.
"You have stared for a while." A soft voice said behind him as a priest came to his side. "It is a beautiful work." James shook his head and snapped out of his daze. Looking at his watch, he didn't realise he spent ten minutes blankly staring and used his eyes to make sure he didn't fall under someone's power. Reasling, he didn't, he chuckled and shook his head.
"I hadn't noticed." James politely said, taking a deep breath, "Forgive me."
"There is no need." The priest said with a warm voice, "Art is a magical thing. It's the one thing that, no matter how poor or good, someone will always be captivated by it, because of what it evokes. It is why we value it so much, because art is the only way to emulate the Almighty's creation."
James stared at the painting, "I thought it would be a sin to emulate the Almighty."
"No. We all carry a part of the Almighty within us. No one person has the power to create life, but we can get close. Some raise a garden like a child, and others create a miracle with a brush." The priest looked at the painting, "Why did it resonate with you?"
James looked for a while and shrugged, "I dunno. It just did."
"Then let me rephrase myself. What did you feel looking at it?" James looked to the man and wondered why he was so insistent on talking to him, but, realising that many priests had approached others. It was likely their way of gaining new followers.
James looked at the painting. It was an incredibly lonely one, the castle the beggar defended long desolate, but looking at the man's face, he could tell the beggar didn't feel that way. With a calm, almost happy smile, he looked to the clouds as if he had completed the one thing he needed to do and was happy to face what came next.
"Satisfaction. I just feel the man was satisfied even in his death." The priest nodded.
"It's a story piece this one. The Hermit, the Beggar, the Fool and the Dammned. They were created to show the final moments of each person from the Four Stories."
"A story in your bible?" The Priest nodded again.
"Your interpretation is actually quite right. The Beggar, a man born with nothing, cursed and degraded by the world and the people, found joy in a purpose greater than himself. He lived with nothing yet believed himself the richest. Then his home was attacked. The people ran, but it was futile. The Beggar, who had been subjected to all that he was, stepped forward and closed the gate behind him. And he announced. 'Until I fall, none shall pass me.' The story goes that he stood for ten days, allowing the castle to be emptied. In the face of his sacrfice the attacking force turned and sought mercy for what they did, converting to the true God."
"And with it, he found satisfaction."
"He cared not for the hate and believed he did the purpose he came for." James looked at the painting and smiled.
"A nice story." Chuckling to himself, he shook his head and slowly walked off. His eyes hardened as guilt and shame washed over them, "And I mean no disrepect but it is only a story. The real world isn't so kind." The priest softly smiled at his words and sighed, looking back at the painting, letting James move on.
Walking forward, James closed his eyes and activated the invincibility as he got close to one of the side doors that led deeper into the church. He waited for a priest to come and followed them through. So far, all he had seen was warmth and kindness. The guilt ate at him about what he was going to do, but James knew he had no choice.
His mission, his goal, wasn't for him alone. He wanted the truth; he knew that much. The majority of what he did was selfish. But a part of him, that small part that he had been using as a cover, was telling him he had to do this to protect Newport, even if it meant letting someone like Xavier have the key.
Xavier wasn't good. That much was obvious. But comparing Xavier to the likes of the Gentleman, the choice was clear. If he had the power and chance to decide who would be the one to control Zoktis Home, he would choose Xavier. The thought of taking the key himself and hiding it did surface, but if he did that, then what? The truth he had been chasing would be lost.
Taking a deep breath, he activated his eyes along with the invisibility and quickly made his way through, recalling the blueprint from memory. The packed halls had suddenly become empty, with the occasional priest and guard walking through. James paid close attention, not letting his mind wander on pointless thoughts as he walked through.
The walls, even out of sight from visitors, were still adorned with paintings and statues. James wished to stop and look at them all, the building's hypnotic effect drawing him closer. It was a strange feeling, and a moment's thought made him realise what could be the case.
'Collective thought influences the world. Billions belong to the Children, and it is their most Holy Land. It must be that which is enticing me.' Shaking his head again, he realised he let his mind wander once more and slowed down, taking a deep breath.
Coming to a calm jog, James looked around, his eyes darted between each door, stopping on one. Although it wasn't either of the two places where the Key should have been, it was somewhere that had spiked his interest.
Although he couldn't read the old language above the door, Fredrick had offered a translation of each room when he got the blueprint. 'Library.' James gulped and turned towards it. It wasn't his goal, but an urge was pulling him towards it. With his hand on the doorhandle he took a deep breath and let himself in.