Sinner

East of the imperial city of Valeria stood the Church of the Holy Flame, a towering building of stone and bronze that had witnessed centuries pass under its watch. Its spires climbed toward the sky like fingers reaching desperately to touch something beyond mortal grasp. 

Beaten by time, each block seemed stained with secrets, the cracks between them whispering prayers that had long since turned to dust. 

Darkened windows set in frames told stories of gods and saints through a wash of amber and cobalt light, painting bright colors across the carved marble floors.

The heavy iron doors, scarred and dented from ages of hands pushing and pulling, creaked as the faithful entered. They did so in quiet reverence, heads bowed, robes brushing the floor as if in apology.