The chalice rested by itself upon the central altar. Everything else had already been taken up and put into the sacristy, including the more elaborate vestments he was made to wear during service. Those who attended daily mass were more than Malachi had first expected, yet still not as many as he'd hoped. Not as many as he planned, once he settled fully into the seaside community that was his current home. It was an excellent start, though, and his efforts thus far had been well enough received by those in attendance.

Still only late morning, a bright light cast through the windows and illuminated the well-kept sanctuary. The church had mostly emptied out after service, with only an elderly couple remaining behind in one of the back pews, eyes closed in silent prayer. Malachi shut the sacristy door as gently as he could, and his steps were just as quiet as he returned to the altar. With a sideways glance towards the couple, he swiped the chalice and downed the last drop of wine.

Malachi cleared the altar properly then, lips tinted red with the blood of Christ.

The old couple took their leave some minutes after that. He stepped down to offer them farewells, followed to the door, and held it open for them both to pass through. Only then did a sigh escape him. Malachi stood tall in the open doorway, eyes fixed upon the backs of their heads as they left.