Civil Outreach was an ostentatious, grand tower, stark in contrast to the mostly-humble cloisters and annexes of the Jointed Chapel. It stood on the very edge of the grounds.

Atop its solid stature, staring out at Marshweld’s village proper... there was a gleaming eye.

Inside, Gerald sat behind the receptionist’s desk. Perched on his nose was a pair of spectacles. Still, he squinted to read the Book of Prophecy And Nonequivalence. It held many of the Jointed Goddess’s most important teachings... but the text was crammed tight on the parchment, and his vision was swimming.

It had been a month since his fateful inauguration as a Blessed. Anna refused to visit him at work—she’s sulking, isn’t she?—but Lady Brenda often stopped by to tease him. The first time he saw her alive, he nearly jumped out of his own skin. The ingracious noise he’d made was a favored topic of hers.

How long is she staying, anyway? A [Tourist] surely has better places to be.

Of course, thinking of her impending migration brought a tight knot of remembered guilt to his stomach.

To tell the truth, I was misguided after leaving my family. In desperation and loneliness, I attacked others without discretion or even malice... Those days are long gone; now my violence must be guided by purpose.

I must repent.

Gerald realized he’d read the same line thrice in a row now. He reached up and cast his spectacles aside. His head rolled toward the vaulted ceiling. He sighed.

“I’m tired of waiting,” he told the empty room. “Tonight I will propose my plan to Father Ache..”

He was certain that the shadows on the bas-relief deepened.

The front door opened.

Gerald slapped the Book of Prophecy shut and glanced up at the civilian who stepped, nervous, into the grandiose foyer.

Not a civilian. A child.

The boy had farm-calloused fingers and short, functional hair. Truthfully... he must’ve been in his early teens. It was just that everyone below twenty-two felt like a child to Gerald.

“Hello,” he said. “Mum has a request. Is this the Emissaries’ Outreach office?”

Gerald leaned forward. “It is indeed. How can this humble servant of the Goddess help you today?”

The boy gulped.

“My brother’s very sick. Usually he is, really. We’re poor, so Mum wants to... um... place him under your Chapel’s care.”

Gerald’s eyes widened slightly as he read between the lines. Too few resources to feed dead weight, is that it?

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Gerald tilted his head. His gaze softened.

“Son, a family should stay together. Take it from me, this sort of thing isn’t worth regretting for the rest of your life. You bring your Mum down here and have her ask herself. None of this middleman business.”

The boy gulped again, but the tension around his eyes was slightly relieved. “Okay. I’ll bring her.”

He scuttled out the door. Gerald reopened his book.

Not twenty minutes later, the door slammed against the wall.

The boy from before held it open. His mother was a thundercloud. She held one end of a stretcher and a meek, muscular man gripped the other. Upon the cloth was the most feeble child Gerald had ever seen.

His skin was like paper. Gerald could hear his lungs rattling against his ribcage. The cheeks that should have been rosy were sunken, recessed.

The man and the storm carried the stretcher in and set it gently on the ground in front of Gerald.

“We’re traveling merchants,” she announced. “Our lifestyle is too dangerous for our frail Desmond. The frequent climate changes are just too much. Please look after him and we will remain in your debt forevermore.”

She bowed.

Gerald had to admit he misjudged her slightly. It wasn’t out of intentioned callousness that she sent the child; through the open door, he could see her carriage on the muddy road. She’s leaving in a hurry, since the roads are deadly at night. Of course she’d delegate! No, wait, are we an afterthought? A last-ditch desperate attempt at saving that boy’s life?

Gerald didn’t hesitate. “I will have him put up in our guest quarters at once. No charge. Just... be aware he may be exposed to our church’s beliefs during his stay.”

The mother rose with sudden tears in her eyes. “Oh, thank you, thank you! And don’t worry. Even if the Orthodoxy is more, ah, acceptable, their guest quarters are too full of Peeking Woods refugees... At least, that’s the reasoning they gave before turning us away. As far as I’m concerned, you Emissaries of Bone lent a helping hand that the Orthodoxy refused to. Keep him safe, you hear?”

With her rapid-fire barrage concluded, she fled from the tower as if she feared Gerald would renege. Or ask a price. The others went with her.

Gerald blinked. He glanced at the boy on the ornate floor. Is this really okay?

“Desmond, was it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I need to speak with the Father, but before then, do you need any water or food?”

“I’m a little thirsty.”

“Alright. Give me a moment.” Gerald brought himself up on his cane. His leg had finally gotten to the point where he could put the slightest weight on it, but he was certain it would never bend again.

Unless I undergo Suzemony, that is. But first I’ll have to kill someone of Rank 1.

Indeed, the process of Suzemony would not just slightly extend his lifespan, but also heal his Major Injury. It was everything he could possibly want.

Though I’ll always be below [Acolytes] of the same Rank. As followers of the Goddess who rules nonequivalence, the Emissaries truly love their caste systems.

Gerald was far from the only [Penitent] servant on the grounds, but he was the only pardoned sacrifice. In the past week, there had been two more [Penitents] Blessed and immediately expulsed to the Vast Underworld. I guess we were bound to see some more lawbreakers eventually.

Gerald shook his head and brought Desmond a jug of water.

“Slowly, boy. Don’t choke yourself!”

Regardless, he drank like he wanted to drown. Gerald watched and knew in his heart that he was being offered a choice.

If I stay to care for this child, I won’t be able to move forward with my plan. But he’s a second chance at the family I left behind.

“Oh Goddess,” he muttered. “You test me so...”