Skeptic

"Not this again."

Kai'len Imperia muttered to himself. As of now, boredom was seething through his veins.

cough, cough.

"Another week, another mass—the same dull repetition."

Ah, he was a skeptic. Not a very religious fellow, it seemed. He was dreading this moment…

Achoo!

That sound came from Lyn'chael Imperia, the boy's endearing sister, who wore a black trench coat—something warm for the rainy season. Her brother copied her style of clothing, though with their naturally black hair, there was no risk of plagiarism there.

"Brother, hurry up!"

It was the season of fall in the humble town of Leuvana, just outside the territory of the great industrial nation of Złoto. Both were under the rule of the theocratic nation of Svet.

But they stopped in their tracks when they heard the familiar sound of the church bells in the distance—a signal to the entire town that the service was about to begin.

A downpour had washed over leuvana, soaking the streets. Wet fallen leaves and dirty puddles greeted the siblings' boots.

The Church of Światło wasn't far from their house, so their parents had already gone ahead.

Splash! Splash!

"Eeek!" Lyn'chael nearly slipped in the muddy water—but was saved by... no one, really.

The thought of slipping in the mud in front of her brother sent shivers down her spine—she knew he would cackle diabolically at her misfortune.

"I will not let you have that fun!" Lyn'chael declared, mentally.

With the power of I refuse to be ashamed! she miraculously regained her balance, her feet moving with surprising grace mid-fall. An impressive save indeed. She looked at her brother and smirked.

"Are you envious of my graceful skill, brother?"

The crowd, having witnessed her impressive feat, erupted into applause!

Kai'len, on the other hand, felt slightly disappointed. In his mind, watching his sister fall face-first into the mud would have brought his brotherly heart so much joy. "I am, sister, I am," he admitted.

They noticed another boy standing just to their right, staring at them. Tall, with sleek brown hair and eyes, he looked well-groomed, wearing a light-brown coat made from wool.

People in Leuvana are just that fashionable, it seems.

The boy's name was Liam Al'wood, a friend of Kai'len and a woodcutter by trade. He seemed oddly enchanted by Lyn'chael's clumsiness.

"Good morning, Liam," Lyn'chael greeted him.

He struggled to maintain eye contact with Lyn'chael, his face flushed. "G-Good morning to both of you. Heading to mass as well?"

"We are!" Lyn'chael replied.

"Where's your brother?" Kai'len asked. Liam had an older brother, Gareth, who was on the muscular side.

"He already went ahead. Shall we walk together?" the boy offered, to which the siblings agreed. His heart rate seemed to settle.

The three of them made their way toward the church alongside other attendees.

The large town of Leuvana was coated in the dampened hues of autumn, exuding a peaceful charm. Stone walls and towering watchtowers stood tall, protecting its inhabitants from outsiders.

The houses, built from traditional wood, brick, and stone, lined the streets, their chimneys releasing thin trails of smoke. with trees decorated with crimson yellow and golds.

Though gradually shaped by the influence of nearby industrial towns, Leuvana clung to its rich history. Its people, reluctant to fully embrace the technological tide sweeping the human continent, could not escape the inevitable march of progress.

Kai'len noticed that Liam was unusually silent. "Are you okay?" he asked, patting his shoulder.

Liam flinched. "Ah! Yeah, I am. Just the weather—it's cold, isn't it?!" His voice carried a hint of nervousness.

Lyn'chael chimed in, "This is the perfect weather for sleeping!" At her words, a faint smile flickered across Liam's face, his focus drawn to her.

Kai'len was beginning to understand the situation.

"I see it, Liam," he said teasingly.

Liam immediately began denying it, but his growing nervousness only made it worse.

Kai'len will remember this.

"Mama! Papa!" Lyn'chael called out as they finally arrived at the church, where their parents were waiting for them.

Among the group of attendees at the black steel gates of the church, two figures stood.

A tall man with a defined build, broad shoulders, and a chiseled face. Elegant as his black hair was neatly combed, and he wore a beige trench coat along with an expensive silver watch on his right wrist—Alexander Imperia.

Beside him stood a slender woman with long, elegant black hair and a melancholic air about her. Her gray trench coat flowed softly as she stood—Ana'lyn Imperia, the parents of Kai'len and Lyn'chael.

They carried baskets of fruit with them.

"There you are!" Alexander called out as the siblings approached.

"Both of you look beautiful," their mother, Ana'lyn, said warmly.

The family, after all, had plenty of trench coats in their closets.

Some say faith is inherited. Others say it's learned. But in the Imperia household, only one thing was certain: the love of a good trench coat.

"Trench coat propaganda,"

In front of them stands an old stone church, its walls still glistening from the recent downpour. Golden and crimson leaves clung stubbornly to the surrounding trees, their colors deepened by the rain. Others lay scattered across the cobblestone path, plastered to puddles that mirrored the church's silhouette.

In the silence, faint prayers could be heard, as a group of people assembled for the mass.

"Papa, can we buy pudding later?" Lyn'chael requested, "That sounds nice," Kai'len agreed, the mom and dad looked at each other before responding, "Why not?" The siblings felt a wave of gratitude.

"Liam, we saw your family earlier—they're already inside. Why weren't you with them?" Ana'lyn asked, wondering why Liam wasn't with the rest of the Al'woods—his siblings and parents.

"Ah—uh, Miss Imperia! I was… um, just busy with something! That's why I wasn't with them," Liam responded.

Kai'len, however, had his own suspicions—he speculated that Liam had intentionally stayed behind just so he could walk alongside Lyn'chael.

But then, the church bells rang once more, louder now that they were near, the final signal that the mass was about to begin.

"Well then, let's head inside," Ana'lyn said.

"Be careful—the floor is a bit wet. Don't slip," Alexander warned.

Lyn'chael averted her gaze, recalling her own near-slip just moments ago, while Kai'len shot her a knowing side-eye.

"Thank you for your time! I'm off to see my parents now—take care," Liam said.

The Imperia family offered him a brief farewell as he made his way toward the pews to join his own family.

"Take care!" Lyn'chael said with a cheerful lilt.

To Liam's ears, it was like the voice of an angel. "T-Thank you," he stammered, trying to keep his composure, though the faint blush on his cheeks didn't help him.

"Youth, it's a beautiful thing," Alexander said, to which his wife nodded in agreement.

Kai'len, on the other hand, was far less enthusiastic—he was not looking forward to the mass.

The family was greeted by the church's humble interior. Faint light gently filtered through the side windows, while the ceiling featured rounded arches supported by sturdy columns with ornate capitals.

The space was lined with simple wooden pews, and the central aisle led to a modest altar on a raised platform. Above the altar was a smaller, elegant stained-glass window that enhanced the spiritual ambiance.

A hymn echoed through the church, carried by the voices of the choir and the rich tones of a grand piano. The singers sang in an ancient tongue known only to the church's faithful—the holy language of Luminary, "Luxon."

It is common knowledge that church choirs sing with mana-laced words. Some accuse them of subtle spell-casting, but the church insists it is a blessing—a sacred gift from Światło.

As they sat down in their pews, the singing continued, and the choir's voices rose, filling the space. Lyn'chael, despite not knowing the language, prepared to sing along by mimicking.

Oh Światło, let our words please you~

(O Światło, Hee wa muel vae ves~)

May the thoughts that come out of my heart please you~

(Wali veso hei no Ie wa, Veo soe yuweh~)

For I devote my body and soul to you~

(Vei Ie, Hei seva Ie wa velo wa soel yuweh~)

My savior, my savior~

(Ie wa Luha, Ie wa Luha~)

Oh Światło, let our words please you~

(O Światło, Hee wa muel vae ves~)

May the thoughts that come out of my heart please you~

(Wali veso hei no Ie wa, Veo soe yuweh~)

For I devote my body and soul to you~

(Vei Ie, Hei seva Ie wa velo wa soel yuweh~)

My savior, my savior~

(Ie wa Luha, Ie wa Luha~)

The trumpets are for you~

(Vrumpel ei Hei Va wa yuweh~)

My hope and truth are with you~

(Ie wa yae wa yua hei va wa yuweh~)

Oh, Światło~.

(O Światło~)

You are my light.

(Yuweh hei va Ie wa hoel~)

You are my light.

(Yuweh hei va Ie wa hoel~)

My savior, my savior.

(Ie wa Luha, Ie wa Luha~)

My god, oh światło.

(Ie wa Światło, Aei Światło~)

The notes resonate with divine purity, the lyrics sacred in their depth, sung with angelic voices. The people, lost in this world, seem to be transported as though they are listening from heaven itself.

Kai'len's thoughts bash them, but the guilt resurfaces. He tries to open his heart and mind, yet he fails to feel it, failing to see what they believe in, as it's not in front of him.

"Am I evil for not believing?"

The congregation listened intently, their faces filled with bliss. Tears streamed down their cheeks as they swayed gently to the hymn, completely immersed in its melody.

Alexander swayed gently to the rhythm of the melody, while Ana'lyn remained indifferent. 

Kai'len turned to see Lyn'chael, her eyes bright, her lips parted as she sang along. He could see the joy on her face—her belief was pure, untouched by doubt.

The young boy tried to understand, but he couldn't. Perhaps he was too young and naive. Despite being born into a world where deities are part of everyday life, his instincts just shunned them.

Lyn'chael spoke of the gods with warmth, but when Kai'len tried, the words felt foreign, hollow.

Amidst his reverie, the priest appeared. His name was Father Fernand, a well-known town priest who had served this church for years. He made his way to the pulpit, gazing out at the congregation before speaking.

"Let us, brothers and sisters, gather in solemn devotion to honor our Lord, Światło."

Chapter end.