Chapter 87: Ritual
Valens sat in the wooden chair, creaking along with one hand over the table, peering silently out into the empty walls, waiting for Percival to bring him the licenses. It was past morning time, but not quite afternoon yet, and it took them an hour to get to the company from the Golden Cathedral, which was situated somewhere between the middle-class and low-class rings of the city.
The name of the company was Ward Private Investigation Services, and it consisted strictly of Captain Edric’s team. Garran told him there were three such companies in the city, all under different names, that bridged the gap between the Church members and normal folk of Belgrave. A total of fifteen Templars, with one team venturing outside the capital every three months.
Since they only recently completed their country duty, Captain Edric’s team would be staying in the capital for the next three months, a fact that, other than Percival, nobody looked too excited about.
Valens didn’t blame them. It’d been a few days since he arrived in Belgrave, but already the city showed him what it really was. It was a circus. Not a big one, but the kind that had left its days of glory long behind, and was now trying to hold onto the echoes of those memories in an effort to forget its diminished, pitiful existence.
“Here.”
A door creaked open, and Percival came holding two sheets of paper in his hand. While the Templars had to share a common room, Percival himself had been granted a private room in the back of this apartment-turned-company, which had only three rooms in total and an entrance hall that was only wide enough to let two men pass at the same time.
“That’s your temporal identity sheet,” Percival said, passing him the first sheet. Valens accepted it. It was a simple document that had his name, age, and occupation as a consultant for the Ward Private Investigation Services. Percival then gave him the second sheet. “This, on the other hand, is your magic license. Don’t forget to read the terms.”
Valens skimmed through the terms above and arched an eyebrow. It said here that he was only allowed to use his magical capabilities in situations where his life was at stake. Under no condition could he threaten the lives of civilians, even in the name of self-defense. If a problem occurred and he damaged private property in the process, he would be held liable to pay the appropriate compensation for the damage he caused if his use of magic were deemed more than necessary.
“This is a long list,” Valens pinched the bridge of his nose as he further read the long string of terms. The gist of it was made clear to him, however, as all the terms ended in one way or another with the mention of His Majesty’s Royal Court. “Do we have lawyers in the Church? Because something tells me I will be needing their counsel one of these days.”
“Formalities.” Percival shooed Dain off from the chair that sat across Valens, the towering Templar huffing away to join Garran and Mas, who were sulking over their only couch in the shared room, and dragged the chair creaking close to Valens with his eyes fixed on him. “You don’t have to be too strict about them. That license is strictly given to the private personnel of the companies. It’s not designed to fit the needs of a Church member who specializes in the field of supernatural work.”
“How is any one of these supernatural?” Valens frowned. “Why go to those lengths when you can just show them a Wailborn or two to make your point?”
“Common courtesy,” Percival smiled. “And a need to keep the public away from certain matters.”