Book 1, Verse 41

Albert took me a few steps off the path where everyone was sitting and pulled me aside.

“I’m going to be honest; you worry me Shinko.”

“What?”

“You make me worry! You’re a priest, but you’ve got an odd attitude about prayer! And it seems like you’ve got a million different things gnawing at you at once.” He looked at me sincerely. “I want to know what’s on your mind, and if you let me try to help you, then I’ll consider us even.”

I tensed when I heard his offer.

“Why are you being so nice to me? No one is this selfless.” Especially not someone who seemed religious, like Albert.

He raised his hands.

“It’s what God called me to do. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else today; then you and your friend showed up and it was time for me to hop to it.”

I rolled my eyes at his explanation; as I suspected, God was just using this guy.

“What, you sit around and wait for people on the road to come to you for help? Some calling.”

“There it is again! That attitude!” Albert looked at me and crossed his arms. “Listen, you said you didn’t subscribe to the church pact, but right now you sound kind of like some of the priests who do, so I’m going to ask you something; do you honestly believe that God loves you?”

I hesitated.

Apparently, that was all I needed to do.

“There it is. The doubt.” He shook his head. “Shinko, if you’re going to be a priest, you need to stop doubting God's love for you.”

“What love? Nobody loves a tool.”

“Tool?” Albert looked at me and tilted his head. “Oh dear.”

He started walking towards the hill with the concealed hole in it.

I followed him.

“What, you’re going to walk away from the conversation?”

“No; I only want to show you something while I talk.”

We reached the top of the hole and looked down into it. It was wide enough for two men to jump down with a little room to spare, but there was a ladder propped up against the edge of it leading down.

Without words, he descended into the darkness.

“I can’t follow you down there.” I said plainly. “My friends are up here; I can’t leave them alone.”

“Ah, right.” He looked up at me. “You could invite them in.”

“Vivian’s in no shape to climb a ladder, and neither is Niels.”

Albert looked genuinely perplexed for a moment, then shrugged.

“Guess it wasn’t meant to be! Give me a second.” He climbed back up the ladder and stretched. “I had a whole little plan for how I thought this conversation was going to go, but I’ll have to make do out here.”

He walked to the top of the hill and I followed him.

It wasn’t a particularly large hill; aside from whatever construct was beneath it, nothing seemed special about it.

Albert looked up at the starry night sky and exhaled softly.

“Shinko, how do you feel about God? Be honest.”

“Honest?” I said, and I felt a pit form in my stomach. It had only been a few hours since I’d lashed out at Vivian about what she believed, and I knew her.

Against someone who I didn’t know as well and had less personal attachment to, there was no telling what I might say if I lost control again.

“I don’t think you want to hear my thoughts.” I mumbled.
“Really? And why is that?” He asked serenely.

“I tend to get… loud.”

The old man laughed, and his ears twitched as he did so.

“Why do you get loud?” He said after he calmed down. “Is it because you dislike the person you’re talking to, or is it more about the subject matter?”

I felt my neck tense.

“Subject matter.”

I had liked Vivian, but what I’d said to her was completely out of line; and the thing that had made me lose my temper was the thing we were discussing. It had been the same back home whenever I talked to John. He could be annoying at times, sure, but he was still my friend. Yet, every time he brought up God, I felt anxious. My muscles tensed, and I rolled my eyes with the thought of ‘not this again.’

Then when we actually started discussing it, it was like my brain went into overdrive. I would reach down and pull out every single question I had and throw them at him, not really caring to hear what his answers were. I’d bring up arguments that were either already outdated or purposefully misleading just to stump him for a few seconds.

And if he ever managed to somehow give me a decent answer to anything, I’d shut him down with a simple claim that I was bored of the conversation; or, if I was having a particularly rough day, I’d call him an idiot.

Like I'd done with Vivian.

Why did I do that?

Because I didn’t want to hear about that monstrous puppeteering God, and in order to avoid hearing about him, I would willingly trample over my friends and their feelings.

How messed up was that?

When I regained control of my thoughts, I looked at Albert.

He wasn’t looking back at me; his gaze was directed up at the sky.

“If it’s the subject matter, then I have to ask you a question, Shinko.” He sighed, never turning away from the sky full of stars.

I tensed in preparation for his question.

“Is there anything anyone could say that would ever make you warm up to it? What would it take to convince you to trust God?” He closed his eyes and his rabbit ears fell limp.

My defenses rose quickly and sharply.

“I’m a priest; I already do.”

“No you aren’t, and no you don’t.” He said with a smirk. “I’ve met a lot of priests in my time, and you don’t remind me of any of them.”

He looked at me and opened his eyes, his ears still limp.

“So what would it take? What would I have to say?”

I felt my core shake.

This old man knew I wasn’t a priest, and yet he wasn’t making it the primary focus of the discussion.

“If you think I’m not a priest, w-why are you so calm about it?” I asked hesitantly.

“Because it’s not what I should be worried about right now.” He shrugged. “I’m worried about you. So what’s your answer?”

I felt my defenses crumbling.

“I… you’d have to convince me that he’s real. The idea of a God is… ridiculous.”

Albert walked towards me and clicked his tongue.

He now stood directly in front of me, his ears still dropped over the sides of his head.

“A lot of wizards have said the same thing. A lot of alchemists too.” He looked away and spoke more quietly. “I know for a fact that the idea isn’t ‘ridiculous.’ King Alexander the first of Mandl was a great wizard, and yet he still held deep and profound faith in God.”

He turned back to me.

“If you really want to, we could spend all night arguing about whether or not God exists.” He smiled confidently. “And, while I don’t think I would lose the argument… I think you and I both know that’s not the real reason you don’t want to trust him.”

My defenses were in shambles.

If he wanted honesty, I’d give it to him.

“I can’t trust God because God is a monster.” I said with finality and turned to look at Albert.

He was smiling, and then he motioned for me to keep talking.

“He creates people, then he forces them to sin, and then he condemns them to hell because they did what he forced them to do.” I said calmly. “And then people like you come and tell me that, if I just follow his rules and give my life to the puppet master, I’ll get to live forever.”

“The puppet master, huh?”

I nodded quickly and started pacing.

“God doesn’t love people, and don’t try to claim otherwise!” I added quickly. “Because if he really loved people, he wouldn’t force them to sin, and he wouldn’t send them to hell. I figured out that the only reason God lets anyone live forever is because he needs them. He’s an egotist; he needs people to tell him how great he is. Signing up to join the church is like signing your life away. ‘Give your life to God’ because it’s the only way you get to live.”

I shivered in the cold as the wind blew past us in the night.

“I’d rather be free in a meaningless world than give my life to an uncaring monster who only uses me to get what he needs.”

I stopped pacing and made eye contact with Albert, waiting to hear what he had to say.

“So would I.”