The great stone doors boomed shut behind him as Peter was left alone with the Holy. He was a small man, shrouded in robes, kneeling in a circle of simple candles. Not a word had been spoken to Peter since he had entered the hallway nearly half an hour earlier. There had been no doors or signs of other foot traffic the entire time. No signs of vaults or wealth of any sort. Discounting the fine marble, which was hardly something Peter could walk off with. Nothing for it to continue the ruse until more opportunity arose.
“You will not find anything here worth stealing,” said the Holy, looking up from a simple wooden icon he had been focused on. “But you still have a need we can fulfill.”
Peter began to bluster, but something told him the man wasn’t just guessing. The Holy expressed a calm certainty that also held no judgement. “How do you know?”
“No man comes to this place that does not have such a need. There are many hidden barriers to finding it, to making it here. Most never even hear of us. Now that you stand before me, I know that you both require and deserve our aid.”
Peter could not speak. This was nothing like the temples he had spent so much of his life at. Those were all trimmed with gold, bursting to show the world their greatness and riches to prove that their way was the true one. But there was nothing here. Even the Holy, the greatest of them so it was said, sat in simple robes with beeswax candles and a wooden bench.
“If you have no wealth, then I am sorry that I came,” Peter said finally. “I will leave you to your simple lives.”
The Holy stood, then, and shook his robes out. Dust fell, as if he had been in that position for weeks. “I see why you came and I also see why you do what you do. But there are better ways to ease your guilt and your memories. Stay with us a time. We will show you.”