2025-10-27 13:48:33The sun pierced through the last veil of mist above the gates of Valenfort, glinting off moss-covered stone rooftops and the slow-fluttering church banners.
“We’ve arrived, Father. The basilica is on the northern side of the city, but the road there is quite crowded today.”
Cassian nodded, stepping down from the wooden stairs and taking in his surroundings.
After days of hearing nothing but rain and prayer, this bustle felt like another world to Cassian.
The aroma of toasted bread and meat stew rising from the stalls made him swallow hard. He stepped toward a small shop with a wooden sign reading El Pan del Sol.
The shopkeeper, a plump man with a wide smile, handed him a plate of warm soup and slices of freshly baked bread.
The air here felt lighter, yet fragments of his dream still lingered in his mind—a figure in black robes burning in white light.
He drew a deep breath, trying to chase it away.
“Father Cassian?”
The voice was soft, but enough to make him turn.
Her hair was pale blonde, softly wavy to her shoulders. Her skin was milky white, her eyes a clear bluish-green—like glass reflecting the sky. She wore a cream wool coat with lace-trimmed sleeves, simple yet elegant.
When she smiled, warmth broke through the cold air of Valenfort.
Cassian blinked, momentarily confused. “You know me?”
The woman laughed softly, covering her mouth politely. “It’s hard not to recognize a priest among such a crowd. I’ve heard a lot about your bravery protecting that village.”
Cassian instinctively glanced down at his clothes—a plain black shirt, a thin cloak. Nothing marked him as a priest.
“Aura,” the woman said lightly. “You radiate a strange calm. Like someone who just won a battle but isn’t sure whether to feel grateful or guilty. And everyone who’s met you describes you exactly as I see you now.”
Cassian was silent for a moment. “I came here to meet someone. Monsignor Ardent.”
Her gaze softened. “What a coincidence. He’s my uncle.”
Cassian raised an eyebrow. “You’re… Monsignor Ardent’s niece?”
“Yes,” she said, extending her hand. “My name is Celene Ardent.”
“In that case, let me take you to the basilica,” she said brightly. “Besides, Uncle doesn’t like waiting for guests too long.”
“Oh, by the way, would you like anything? Please, take what you want—I’ll pay.”
Celene chuckled softly. “No need, Father Cassian. Take whatever you like. Here, all servants of the Church are highly respected, right, Madam Ruth?”
The old woman behind the counter nodded with a warm smile.
“Madam Ruth can’t speak, but she can hear,” Celene explained.
Cassian bowed slightly, his eyes drawn to the rows of bread on the wooden table—wheat loaves, fruit loaves, and one small golden roll gleaming with a glaze of honey. Its aroma was gentle—warm, simple, comforting.
“Then…” he said softly, pointing at it, “I’ll take this one.”
Celene smiled faintly. “A sweet choice.”
Cassian looked at her, returning a slight smile. “It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted anything sweet.”
His gloved hand accepted the bread, and for a moment he simply stared at it—as if that humble thing carried echoes of a distant memory.
“My sister used to love bread like this,” he murmured unconsciously. “She said honey makes the world feel lighter.”
Celene lowered her gaze briefly before meeting his eyes again with softness. “Maybe she was right. The world does feel heavier when we forget to taste its little sweet things.”
Cassian nodded faintly, something stirring in his chest that felt almost like longing.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Celene answered only with a warm smile, then turned. “Come, then. The basilica isn’t far.”
She led the way through the crowded market alleys. Cassian followed, his steps slow amid the scent of spices, laughter, and merchants’ calls.
“Valenfort is so lively,” Cassian remarked, watching the cobbled streets crowded with traders and running children.
Celene smiled. “It wasn’t always this busy, you know? Valenfort used to be a fortress city. During the war against the demons, its walls were marked with arrows and blood. Now only stories remain.”
“You know quite a lot,” Cassian said quietly.
“Of course,” Celene replied, glancing back, her blonde hair swaying. “My grandfather was a priest. He used to tell me bedtime stories—about how the priests once prayed until dawn so the heavens wouldn’t collapse.”
Cassian looked at her briefly. “Your uncle, Monsignor Ardent… was he also a priest from a young age?”
“Yes. Uncle is strict, but kind. He scolds me when I miss mass but always prepares warm tea when I come home soaked in the rain.”
Cassian nodded slightly, a faint smile crossing his lips. “Strict yet gentle. The mark of true faith.”
Celene looked at him and laughed softly. “You speak as if you’ve known him a long time, Father Cassian.”
Cassian shook his head, eyes on the road ahead. “Just a guess. Sometimes, those who carry much choose to look stern so no one sees how fragile they are.”
Celene watched him for a moment, then said quietly, “Perhaps.”
When they crossed a stone bridge over a small river, Celene paused and gazed at her reflection in the rippling water.
Cassian looked at the water’s surface. “Or through someone who doesn’t even know why he came to this city.”
Celene smiled faintly. “Maybe so—like what’s happening now, between you and me, Father Cassian. Surely God has His own reason for bringing us together.”
The sky had turned golden by the time they reached the northern avenue. The buildings changed from shops and stalls to rows of Gothic stone houses with tall stained-glass windows.
At the end of the road stood the Basilica Sanctum Aurelia—majestic, with twin towers and great doors carved with angels bearing swords.
The evening light glinted on its walls, making the gray stone shimmer like gold.
Celene looked at him from the side. “You seem uneasy.”
Cassian smiled faintly. “I just… don’t feel ready to face someone who knows too much about darkness.”
Celene returned the smile. “My uncle doesn’t judge. He simply sees deeper than most.”
Cassian lowered his head, his voice low. “That’s what makes it most frightening.”
They walked toward the basilica’s great doors.
The high ceiling was painted with stories of angels. In the center, light from the stained glass fell on the marble floor in the shape of a glowing cross.
Celene turned before climbing the stairs. “I have to report first. Wait here.”
She walked away, her footsteps soft amid the echo of evening bells.
Cassian stood alone in the vast hall.
And for a moment, Cassian truly felt at peace.
But beneath that stillness, when he looked down at his reflection on the marble floor, he saw something else— the reflection smiled at him first.
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9
Seven years ago.The night outside the window glowed with a cold silver light. The wind shook the old trees in the yard of their grandmother’s long-abandoned house. The air was thick with dust and damp earth, yet that night, two brothers stood in the middle of the living room, watching a shadow on the wall that moved without light.Cassian held a small lantern, while Elias gripped a short sword etched with the sign of the cross.“He’s here,” Elias whispered. “I heard him when we opened the back door.”Cassian took a deep breath. “Don’t act rashly.”“Too late for that, brother.” Elias’s gaze lifted toward the ceiling. “Look.”The ceiling trembled softly. From between the rotten boards, black liquid began to drip—falling to the floor like blood flowing backward.Cassian pulled a small book from his coat pocket—Manual Obscura, a copy of an old scripture known only to the Church’s highest-ranking demon hunters.He read quickly in Latin:“Fiat lux in tenebris, et umbra cadat in nomen Domin
8
Cassian walked beside Monsignor Ardent, head bowed so the rain wouldn’t soak his robes.Neither spoke since they’d left the mayor’s residence—the sound of their footsteps on wet stone was the only rhythm marking the silence between them.At last, Ardent cleared his throat softly. “Cassian,” he said, his voice calm but layered with meaning. “You seemed… unsettled earlier.”Cassian turned slightly. “I just… didn’t expect the relationship between the Church and the mayor to be so… unrestricted.”Ardent smiled faintly, barely visible through the fog. “Ah, you’re still young. There will come a time when you learn that purity isn’t about avoiding the world, but about navigating it.”Cassian said nothing.Ardent continued, his pace steady. “Money, power, faith—they’re merely instruments. The Church cannot live on prayer alone. Even God, if you pay attention, works through the offerings of His people.”He looked up at the sky, his eyes catching a faint blue glow at the top of the distant basi
7
Cassian lost his balance.His voice cracked as he demanded an explanation.“I’m sorry, but I truly don’t understand what you’re saying! I’ve never even met you before, let alone done anything that could’ve gotten my brother killed! Explain this to me, Monsignor Ardent!”But Ardent replied coolly, “It’s not time yet, Cassian. Some things must be remembered the right way.”Cassian was still trying to grasp what that meant when two monks came in and, at Ardent’s command, locked him temporarily in the basilica’s sitting room “to calm himself down.”“Monsignor Ardent, why am I being detained?!”“All things that you chase too hard turn into a boomerang. It’s better you compose yourself first.”The two monks quickly pulled Cassian away, not allowing him to speak further. The room was small, with one high window and thick stone walls that trapped the cold air. Cassian sat quietly on the wooden bench, but his mind was in chaos—caught between anger, fear, and a guilt he couldn’t understand.“Oh
6
“Welcome to Valenfort, Father Cassian.”The deep voice echoed through the grand hall of the basilica, reverberating among stone pillars that rose toward the heavens. Monsignor Ardent stood at the far end of the room, dressed in a white robe trimmed with gold embroidery. His hair was entirely white now, his gaze sharp yet not without warmth.Cassian bowed respectfully. “Monsignor Ardent. Thank you for receiving me.”“Ah, you came all the way from the north to meet an old man like me. Surely God has His reasons,” Ardent said with a faint smile. Then his eyes shifted to Celene, who stood by the doorway. “Celene, my child, give us a moment alone. I wish to speak privately with Father Cassian.”Celene nodded gently. “Of course, Uncle.”Cassian glanced briefly at her before she stepped out. The great doors behind them closed with a soft thud. Ardent turned and said, “Come with me.”He walked slowly through a narrow corridor toward his private chambers. The basilica’s walls were lined with a
5
The sun pierced through the last veil of mist above the gates of Valenfort, glinting off moss-covered stone rooftops and the slow-fluttering church banners.The carriage halted on the main street leading to the market, and the driver bowed slightly.“We’ve arrived, Father. The basilica is on the northern side of the city, but the road there is quite crowded today.”Cassian nodded, stepping down from the wooden stairs and taking in his surroundings.The city was alive—noisy, colorful, foreign. Children ran by carrying warm loaves of bread, fruit sellers called to customers, and the clanging of a blacksmith’s hammer split the air.After days of hearing nothing but rain and prayer, this bustle felt like another world to Cassian.His stomach twisted with hunger; he realized he hadn’t eaten since the morning before.The aroma of toasted bread and meat stew rising from the stalls made him swallow hard. He stepped toward a small shop with a wooden sign reading El Pan del Sol.The shopkeeper,
4
Rain poured hard as Cassian ran through the fog. Each step felt heavier, as if the earth itself refused his touch. Voices followed from behind—soft, whispering, yet sharp enough to pierce the ears.Cassian… Cassian Holt… your blood is still warm…He turned, but there was no one on the road. Only trees swaying under the wind.Then another voice—closer.You held her, didn’t you? You’re the one who woke her from the grave.Cassian clamped his hands over his ears and ran faster. His breath burned in his chest, his vision blurring—and before he could realize it, a white light flashed from the right—His body was thrown. The world spun. Rain became shadow. Darkness.Cassian opened his eyes in a place without direction. There was no sky, no ground—only darkness rippling like water. In the distance, a small blue flame flickered—and at its center stood a figure in a black cloak, wearing his own face.“Stop fighting me,” the voice echoed, as if it came from inside his own head.Cassian gripped
