— Summaya, Enclave —

"What do you mean there are no receipts from Lavradio?"

"I mean that no money was sent, Your Excellency." A lesser woman would have quailed beneath the glare of the Council of Guardians, the highest of priests in jewel-studded stoles, all twelve of them. They handled the day-to-day business of the Unity Church's Enclave, and thereby the spiritual affairs of millions of people. When people complained about Leadership with a capital L, this was the body they were talking about.

But Summaya was no ordinary person. She was Hanzana, a keeper and mover of large sums of money. Powerful people threatened her all the time. That she held such vast sums was both the cause of the threats and her protection from them. She could make money disappear. Her clients' trust was inviolable, but her clients didn't always return that courtesy.

"That is not to say Lavradio did not have any money coming in," she clarified, "but the amount they could transfer to Enclave may have been below the guild's minimum for international transfer."

"So what happened to the church's gold?" asked another guardian.

"It is not the Hanzana's job to watch our finances." Summaya was spared the trial of explaining simple concepts by Guardian Maia, one of the members of actual good sense. "Income and expenses are the church's problem. The Hanza only moves money when we ask for it. It's pointless to demand answers from someone who should know not them."

"Thank you, Guardian Maia." The banker offered the guardian a deep bow. It was always a pleasure to deal with people of intelligence. "I would like to direct your attention to another matter. Ullidia and Gallia are down significantly from last year. They are nearing the minimum transfer amount. Next month, Enclave may not receive their accustomed transfers from those countries." It shouldn't be her job to set their expectations, but it might save her aggravation later.

Several council members spoke at once, clacked writing boards onto their desks, looked to the heavens, and otherwise expressed consternation. Neither the president nor Maia joined in these pointless demonstrations, nor did two other guardians. Perhaps those four had read the same signs as Summaya had and understood them. Church transfers were down across the continent and had been decreasing for a long time. Partially, this was due to a slowly declining population. The latest cratering of the church's income stream was the direct and predictable result of Enclave removing its disciples from the field. They demanded sums the realms couldn't pay and kept their practitioners at home. No miracles meant waning faith. Waning faith meant fewer donations.

And then Nexus started fielding their disciples, doing the job Enclave used to do, and better. It wasn't ecumenical to put it in such terms, but why would people pay more for fewer miracles?

Summaya's nose smelled something off, and her full body of black and white fur bristled. There was a puzzle here. At least four of the Council were unsurprised, the same four who formed the Finance Committee. They had seen this coming and yet Enclave's strategy didn't change. If the president of the council couldn't sway the votes he needed to change course, who held the power in Enclave? Everyone knew Her Holiness was Leadership's puppet. She could issue all the spiritual proclamations she wanted, but it didn't change church policy. She stood at her balcony on holy days to wave at the gathered faithful and, on the rare occasions when she was outside her residence, traveled under heavy guard at all times. Exactly who was in charge? If not the hierarch nor Leadership's president, were practitioners pulling the strings? Enclave disciples were entitled brats with obvious talent but little dedication, from what Summaya had seen of them. They lacked the wherewithal to subvert a council of career strivers and climbers.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Someone needs to kill that upstart," said one member.

"And burn Lavradio," said another.

"These are not germane additions to the topic," President Phrenos told them, canine ears forward in displeasure. "The council wanted to hear from our Hanza representative, and it has done so. Does anyone have appropriate questions for Hanzana Summaya?" There were no takers.

"You are dismissed with our thanks," said Maia at last. Summaya bowed and departed, collecting her bodyguards from the foyer. She noted the red runner on the floor needed cleaning, and the murals had begun to flake in places. It had been a few months since her last visit, but she knew Enclave well: she had been educated there next to priests and practitioners. The practice was common among foreign nobles and wealthy merchants, but for Summaya, it went beyond that. She had been groomed from an early age to be a Hanzana in Dace, to be Enclave's Hanzana in particular.

The campus' ornate decoration had always outstripped their ability to maintain it all, but the decay had reached their inner sanctums. There were just as many servants and cleaners as ever, discretely going about their business with professional unobtrusiveness that bordered on invisibility. Once she started counting servitors (how she loved to count things!) she learned there were no fewer than when she had been at school here. But there was something wrong here, too. Their dark gray uniforms showed wear, and the people themselves seemed pressed. Thin. Tired. She caught sight of a few of them, hauling something heavy along a side street, glancing at practitioners with guarded resentment. She passed a healer candidate with fresh bruises on her face and arms, head down, crossing a street to avoid disciple apprentices on the other side. When Summaya was a student, the bullies didn't leave marks.

She took a seat on a shaded bench and waited for the change-of-class bell to ring, then watched and counted. There were fewer noble children than she'd ever seen at this time of day. There were few practitioner apprentices and even fewer candidates. She saw a single disciple, an older man dressed in lace cuffs and a jeweled star of Olyon, and watched as all the students and servitors scattered before him like startled birds. The longer she looked, the more she realized how shabby and mean it had all become.

The church had been declining for decades. That wasn't a secret, least of all to Summaya, but something essential had changed in the last several months. She was visiting a house on a broken foundation, and it was shifting subtly under her feet.

Enclave might be dying. It was sobering to think she might be the last Hanzana to serve this particular client, one with hundreds of years of history behind it. There were preparations to be made, sureties to be struck. Balances had to be secured in hard coin, and arrangements made for the last-gasp transfers that always accompanied the passing of giants. She had studied the Great Ledger. She knew the patterns and how to prepare for an end she had imagined but never expected to see.

Coin and flexibility were key. If she exchanged her markers for gold all at once, Hanzana from Unity City to Kashmar and beyond would guess what was happening. That could hasten the end. For her client's sake, she must proceed slowly at first.

And then there was the matter of Summaya's successor. She couldn't be left with nothing. Another situation would need to be found for her. Or perhaps, one should be made for her.