A/N: Wow, I never thought I'd be so happy to be writing again. It's so great to hear from all of you guys that I haven't spoken to in so long! Thanks for your feedback so far, everyone.
This chapter might seem a little odd, but it's necessary. I hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter IV

A small collection of people filled the mismatched pews gathered neatly in the vast space inside that unlikely building hidden within the skeletal remains of the old industrial estate. There was hushed talking, and an air of expectancy rattled around them. All of the people here were garbed in black and all carried an austere expression one usually only affected at a funeral, making the atmosphere more ominous still. Each of them sat, hands folded neatly in their laps, eyes set on the altar that stood before them. The only person left standing was a young man with emerald hair and a child-like face that often betrayed his true age. He, more than anyone, was finding it hard to maintain the stoic demeanour expected of him. His green eyes shone wide with excitement as he lit the few candles they were allowed to have burning in the room. Too much light and it would be visible even from the second-storey windows of the building, he had been told.

Today was an important day for him. Not only had he recently been entrusted with the duty of lighting candles when everyone arrived for evening gatherings, but today, he had been asked to do a reading. Very few people actually took part in the giving of the services. Only the most dedicated of members were chosen for that duty, he had heard. Various people had told him of the promise he showed, and that - added to the fact that he had been asked to perform this task – made him all the more sure of the fact that the corypheus had taken somewhat of a shine to him. So, before he left the house that evening, he had made an extra effort to iron his shirt to perfection and press his trousers extra carefully. Looking down at himself now, he almost smiled. He caught himself short, and remembered his position. The corypheus wasn't here yet, but as he was the only one standing, he was in everyone else's line of sight. Today, more than ever, they would be extra critical of him. He cast his eyes downward to focus on the candle he was lighting – the third out of the six that surrounded the seating area. Two more stood at the altar, but only one person was allowed to touch those. That done, he crossed the room past the back of the pews so as to light the remaining candles on the other side. He reached the first, and set about his duty.

He took a moment to glance up and take a look at the people assembled, waiting to start. He hadn't been here very long, perhaps a few weeks now – but he knew almost everybody's names. Some of them had been attending for years. Some, months. But he was by far the newest addition to the group. And to think, he was already surpassing them all! His heart leapt at the thought, and his foot snagged on the candle stand as he tried to walk away. It span dangerously on its thin cast iron legs, and he watched with horror as it clattered to the ground. Everyone turned to look with a start, and the room fell silent. He scrambled to the floor – partly to rescue the fallen candle, but also to hide his burning face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the tall figure of the man known as Marco rise up from the front-most pew. His glasses gleamed disapprovingly in the low candlelight.

“Lyserg,” Marco's voice rang out in the quiet. It wasn't raised, but it was stern. Incredibly so. “Please, be more careful when performing your duties.”

“S-Sorry...” Lyserg stuttered, taking the candle in his hands. Luckily, the dirt floor of the building had extinguished the flame before any further damage could be caused. He got to his feet, trembling with embarrassment as he picked up the stand. Marco watched him carefully for a few more seconds, then returned to his seat. Gradually, everybody else turned away. Lyserg continued on to the next candle, head hung low in shame. His cheeks felt hotter than the flame he was carrying. How predictable, for him to falter in front of the second-most important person in the group. He cursed himself silently, wondering exactly how much he had dented his reputation.

Just as he left the fifth candle, the sound of the large metal door opening echoed around the room. Right on cue, everyone dropped to their knees between the pews. The sight of all seventeen people falling simultaneously was at first a strange sight to behold. But Lyserg had seen this far too many times to be alarmed. What did alarm him was the fact that he was not in position alongside them as he ought to be, due to his earlier mishap. With a fresh panic setting over him, he lit the sixth and final candle and dashed back to his place. With a thud, he fell to his knees, eyes closed tight and hands clasped together against his chest, just like everyone else. For a moment, he realised that he had just scuffed the knees of his neatly-pressed trousers. He hastily pushed the thought away, heart racing, as footsteps sounded across the room. There was complete silence, but for the echo of shoes on the dirt that covered the floor. They continued on, confidently, striding with an air of importance between the two rows of pews. The footsteps passed Lyserg as he felt the rush of air that meant the corypheus had just walked right by him. He squeezed his eyes closed tighter still, feeling his eyelids giving in to the temptation to peek. He sensed the presence climb upon the altar, accompanied by the sound of shoes on wood. A moment of tense silence passed, and the orange light filtering through his eyelids grew brighter as the two altar candles were lit.

He felt his heart pounding throughout his entire body as the excitement grew greater still. This part was always the hardest. The inexplicable urge to look upon the man they called leader was hard to fight away. Never before had Lyserg met a man he so thoroughly admired. The want to please and serve him was the strongest thing Lyserg had ever felt. This was why the excitement for today had consumed him, had been occupying him for days. To become one of the corypheus' most trusted... he was sure he would want for nothing more after he had achieved that honour.

“My friends.” The voice was brimming with confidence, measured yet somehow joyful. “Good evening.”

Lyserg knew it could be the voice of one man. Just like everyone else, his eyes opened wide. Only now were they allowed to look upon him – the corypheus, the man he so revered. He clasped his fingers tighter together as he saw the slender figure upon the altar, arms open warmly to them all, addressing them with a vigour that seemed to come quite naturally.

“Thank you for coming here tonight. I'm sorry I join you so late. Now, on with proceedings. Marco.” He looked towards the tall blonde man who had earlier scolded Lyserg and nodded in his direction.

Marco, from his prominent position on the front pew, inclined his head both in response and in respect, and got to his feet. His task didn't need to be made any clearer to him, nor to anyone else. With a brisk stride, he left the bubble of candlelight that surrounded the pews in the centre of the room, and headed towards a far corner, concealed in the shadows. Nobody could see through the darkness, but everyone knew what was there – a set of stairs, leading to the basement of the building. This was Marco's destination. The sound of him descending was muffled, but audible. Lyserg looked forward to the day he could be entrusted with such a task.

“Please, be seated,” the corypheus instructed his audience, watching in silent regard. At his command, everyone settled themselves back on to the hard wood of the pews, hands settled once more in their laps. Lyserg was no different. He sat up straight and proud, face turned up towards the leader with a serious and focused expression on his face. His heart was still racing. He willed it to slow, lest the pounding of it against his chest distract him from the service. Today was so important...

The corypheus was as at ease as ever, despite so many solemn faces eagerly and silently watching his every move. With a casual air that made Lyserg's heart swell once more with admiration, he took a seat on the very edge of the platform that made up the altar, and beamed softly at his audience, legs swinging gently just above the ground. He addressed them in a warm tone. “I'm sure you're all familiar with what goes on this evening. As usual, there are no changes to that. However, we do have a couple of small additions to tonight's service. First of all, our newest member, Lyserg, will be doing a reading for us.”

For a fleeting moment, the corypheus smiled in Lyserg's direction. Lyserg smiled back with pride, forgetting his place for just that instant. His stomach wriggled with nerves as the weight of his upcoming task truly fell upon him.

“And secondly, there is a-”

Suddenly, the sound of frantic footsteps cut the leader's speech short. They clattered up the stairs towards where they all sat at a speed indicative of sheer panic. The corypheus turned around with an unusual expression of alarm as Marco appeared again in the glow of the candlelight. He was panting heavily, eyes wide with shock. He fell to his knees before the corypheus and cried out in a voice wavering with emotion. “Eminence! It's Ren... Ren has gone!”

Almost instantly, a wave of alarmed chatter rippled through the crowd. Lyserg glanced at everyone's faces with sheer disbelief, settling with worry and a hope of comfort upon the face of the corypheus. He felt these hopes shatter horribly as he saw the beads of sweat on his leader's forehead. When he spoke, his voice jarred with an ill-hidden panic uncharacteristic of his usual nature.

“You... you're sure? You've checked everywhere?”

“Yes, everywhere! He's nowhere to be seen!” Marco exclaimed, fists clenched tightly together and eyes quivering with hysteria.

The corypheus was frozen to the spot, mouth agape. He remained like this for a split second before jumping down from the altar and calling out, “We have to find him.” There was not only panic, but anger in his words that shook Lyserg to hear. Without another word, the corypheus marched with fury past Marco in a way that screamed disappointment. Not even so much as glancing back to reassure his followers, he disappeared off into the darkness, his audience forgotten. A few of the more senior members leapt to their feet and followed him with blind loyalty. Marco remained on his knees in the dirt, looking thoroughly ashamed. Lyserg wondered why he looked so concerned for his own well-being. Surely the corypheus couldn't put any blame on him for this?

Lyserg sat obediently on his pew, waiting for the leader to return. Twiddling his thumbs together, he looked with sorrowful eyes at the bookmark placed in the tome in front of him. This night was going far from how he had planned.

A/N: Sorry for the distinct lack of Ren and Horo in this chapter, but as I said, it was necessary. I can't wait to hear all of your theories now ;)
Ooh, and I have a favour to ask. I'm beta-reading a story for the wonderful KyrieLenna. She finally managed to put up the first couple of chapters the other day. It's a Ragnarok Online/Megaman crossover, but fortunately, you don't need a knowledge of either franchise to read it. It's called '10 Metros Abaixo', and it's a brilliant read. If you go check it out, I'll give you cookies.

(Note: cookies are probably a lie.)