2025-10-28 18:04:58
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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
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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
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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
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“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
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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,
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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
