Erik stepped into the vestibule of the church, and within an instant, he felt the relief which his faith had always promised him. For the first time in a long time, he could breathe.

It was early in the morning. He had gotten up early, just to visit the church. There was something on his conscience that he needed to clear. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't eat. He could barely live without feeling guilty. It needed to stop so that he could get back to his life as usual.

He wasn't used to being in the church that early in the morning. The sun had just risen and the birds had barely begun to sound. But the doors of the church were always open, and there was always someone willing to offer counsel or a place to stay. The church was the center of life in that city, or at least Erik saw it that way.

It was a beautiful building to experience. It was temple worthy of the reverence it represented. Located at the very center of the city, it was taller than any of the trees or buildings which surrounded it. The stained-glass windows on all its sides were viewable from almost anywhere in the city, and when one was nearby, a multitude of extraordinary details became instantly visible on the thousands of stone blocks which constructed the church.

Inside was a gigantic sanctuary, highlighted only by a very large multi-octave organ at the very front and about fifty pews several feet wide facing it. Above the organ was the largest of the stained-glass windows depicting a scene of one of an idol ascending into the heavens with an amazed and once-doubtful audience beneath him. Directly below the window and in front of the organ was a small podium from which the pastor would give his weekly service, and directly in front of the podium was an aisle, dividing the pews down the very center of the church. The entire room was aglow with the glimmer of small candles, the only light at that time of day. And above all this was a gigantic mural, combining several scenes from scripture in an explosion of color.

First paying his respects to the church with a reverent gesture, Erik began walking down the aisle towards a confession booth, just to the right of the room. Which each step, he took in the atmosphere of the room which provided him with an unworldly comfort. He almost felt himself grow weak, as if dreading the upcoming experience.

Be a man, Erik. Faith will be rewarded.

Before reaching the booth, Erik decided to stop at the front pew. He needed a time to think about his thoughts.

There he sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned around to see the silhouette of who he assumed was the man he came to see.

"Who goes there?" said a kind voice.

Erik stood up. "Father Mikhail, forgive me for the intrusion. It's Erik Romanov."

There was a light chuckle following the revealing of Erik's name, almost as if the chuckler half-expected this late night voice.

"You're always welcome in the house of the Lord, my child." The owner of this voice walked into the light of the room, revealing Father Mikhail Tarasov, a kindly old man with the personality and looks of a quintessential saint. His smile was as welcoming as the church and his voice was just as seductive. With a full head of gray hair, pale blue eyes and a slightly-wrinkled face, he seemed the absolute perfect candidate for a pastor. He was still in his night robe, as the visitation had come well within Father Mikhail's time of rest.

"Erik, I should have known only you would be lurking around at this hour," joked Father Mikhail. "What seems to be the trouble, my child?"

He hesitated to respond, not knowing whether or not if now was the time to confess. "Father, I can't sleep. Something has been on my conscience. I needed to come to you."

"Well, you couldn't have picked a better hour." Father Mikhail smiled back at Erik.

"I'm sorry for my timing. I could come back later –"

"Nonsense, my boy! There is never a bad time to consult the Lord. I just never expected anyone in this city to be listening when I said the doors to this church are open all hours of the night," he joked. "You're a diamond in the rough, my boy."

Father Mikhail's candor allowed Erik to relax a bit. He had a reverent-but-fun personality that made him such an effective pastor.

Erik took a deep breath, trying to formulate his thoughts into a coherent confession. He didn't really know how to start, but Father Mikhail was patient.

"Take your time, child," he said in his wise and gentle voice. "I have all the time in the world."

"Sorry," Erik said. "This is just difficult for me to say, even to myself."

Father Mikhail responded with a smile.

This was a routine for the two souls. It was a bit too often that Erik was at the church confessing something. He was what one might consider a religious hypochondriac, thinking every single one of his actions was worthy of punishment. He was a normal attendee of the church services and always valued what he learned from them. Erik wasn't a zealot, but he knew the importance of religion in the world.

Contrary to what one might think, his family wasn't very religious. Instead, he had just found refuge in religion, as an answer to some of the more perplexing questions and experiences in his life.

"Forgive me, for I have sinned."

Father Mikhail nodded politely, signaling him to continue with his confession.

"I have been troubled by a dilemma for quite some time, and I need to put my stress to rest. Father, I've made a decision."

"And what would that be, boy?"

Erik took another deep breath as he began to unearth the discontent in his heart.

"I'm going to start studying alchemy."

Father Mikhail was perfectly silent at first, which was not what Erik was hoping for, though he expected it. This is what he normally does. He's just thinking his answer through … I hope.

Erik was being driven mad by the silence. He had waited so long for this moment, and all he was receiving was a moment of silence. But with each passing second, it seemed like Father Mikhail had something less promising to say. Finally, after several minutes of quiet, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Erik," said Father Mikhail in a less than promising tone, "I don't know what you want me to say."

This was not in any way the response for which Erik was hoping. All of the pastor's prior advice was immediately helpful and kind, but this was far from that.

"What … do you mean?"

Father Mikhail smiled back at him.

"My boy, don't take offense to my lack of a response." He sat down on the pew next to Erik. "I'm happy for you, that you've finally made a decision. You shouldn't care about what I think. You are the only person who matters in this matter."

Erik seemed a bit confused. This was not the spiritual counseling to which he was familiar.

"This is your life to do as you please. Who is anyone to tell you that alchemy is right or wrong for you? It is sinful only because those before you used in it vein. Do you understand what I mean?"

Erik was beginning to understand his pastor's point, and he began to relax somewhat. He nodded in agreement.

"You can revolutionize the world's understanding of alchemy, my boy, if you apply a sense of reason and a heart of goodness to your works." Father Mikhail patted him on the shoulder, to calm his senses. "Haven't I told you this before?"

"You're right, Father. I should've listened better –"

"Erik, you're far too hard on yourself. You've listened perfectly to everything I've ever told you. I can understand why you've been so weary. But just trust yourself, and trust your faith. It'll do you no wrong."

It was silent in the sanctuary for a moment while Erik let everything he had heard register in his mind and heart.

"A simple 'Good for you!' would've been easier to decipher," joked Erik.

Father Mikhail laughed. "You're a very smart boy, Erik. I trust you'll have no difficulty with your destiny. You shouldn't think I have all the answers, or that I should be the one to make all your decisions."

"It's just … I want to know I'm making the right decision."

"And you think I should just tell you it's right?" asked Father Mikhail. "I'm sorry, my boy, but religion doesn't work that way."

Erik laughed. "I wish it did. It'd save me a lot of stress." Realizing that Father Mikhail had made his point, Erik stood up from the pew. "Thank you, Father, you've done me a great service."

Father Mikhail responded by placing his hand on Erik's arm. "No, son, you've done yourself a great service," he said, standing up. "It takes a great bit of strength to make the decision you have made." He smiled at Erik and exited the pew. "Please never hesitate to see me, Erik. Even if I can't bring you absolute peace, it's a great privilege to help you."

Left with Father Mikhail's advice resonating freshly in his memory, Erik stood at the pew trying to visualize his future. It was impossible to tell what was going to happen to him, and with the ambiguity of alchemy now in his life, it was slightly terrifying.

"Erik, I do have a question for you," said Father Mikhail's voice, coming from the back of the sanctuary.

"Yes, Father?" responded Erik.

"What brought you to this decision?"

Erik was almost taken back by this inquisition. It seemed very out-of-place for Father Mikhail to ask such a personal question. It was surprising and odd to the unsuspecting Erik, but after a moment's consideration, he determined it was only fair to give some sort of explanation to the man who had spent countless hours counseling his woes.

"It was a year ago yesterday that it happened."

There was once again a moment of silence as Erik's voice echoed in the sanctuary. Father Mikhail said nothing as he walked away, back into his chambers.

Erik paid his respects to the night with a concluding gesture, and only after lighting a candle in prayer, he made his way towards the church exit.

I've gotten what I needed from this visit. I know what I need to do, and I know that nothing can stop me. Leah, I'm going to make you proud, no matter what anyone down here says. I've never stopped thinking about that day –

That was when he paused. Something had made him feel uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. He felt a shiver down his spine, and as he did, he took a lightning fast look around the room. Then, for a second, he looked down to his hands. He felt sullied for a moment. Suddenly, his mind flashed.

For a split second, his hands were covered in blood, and it felt as though he was holding a very familiar figure.

Sister.

Then, within an instant, the feeling vanished. He felt as though he wanted to cry. Then, Erik sprinted from the church, as if to get away from it – something he had never done in his life, and something he would be doing a lot more in the future.