Enigma in the Chapel

"Our hands are still holding—it feels like a corpse, lifeless."

The typical hymn felt longer than usual. Kai'len's heart was racing; he couldn't explain why. With every lyric the choir sang, his anxiety only intensified.

The stranger sang beside him, utterly consumed, as if nothing else existed.

All the while, Alexander and Lyn'chael were immersed in the moment, eyes closed, lost in the angelic hymn—oblivious to the unease that lingered like a shadow over the rest of them, for their faiths was too devout.

Calm down,

Time will pass,

"I closed my eyes, yet the corpse-like coldness was distracting. I didn't even notice my breathing had become shallow." Kai'len's palms were damp with sweat, yet the stranger's hand remained disturbingly frigid—like something long past dead.

He had endured moments like this for years, but this was the first time he felt truly uncomfortable.

Before meeting the stranger, Kai'len had held hands with many during mass—an old lady, a weary laborer, a mother with her children, and even those who attended reluctantly yet shared a mutual understanding.

When will this end?

His eyes were closed, yet he could feel the man's ominous gaze in every corner of his mind. His heart kept racing, and the hand placed on his mother's tightened, seeking comfort.

But again, Kai'len asked himself.

"Why am I so afraid of him?"

His ears rang; he couldn't even hear the hymn anymore. Perhaps his anxiety was spiking? He could almost hear his own heartbeat, like a train drawing nearer—louder, closer, louder, and closer.

"Kai'len."

Calm down, calm down,

"KAI'LEN!"

His mother's sharp voice jolted him upright. He felt her hand rest on his shoulder—she was concerned, as Kai'len's face was... pale.

"The mass is over. Let's go."

The final hymn marked the service's end. The priest gave his blessings, incense burned, and the congregation stirred—chatting, gathering their things, ready to leave.

He looked around—the man was already gone.

He realized that the man's presence was odd—it was almost impossible to detect. He couldn't put it into words; there was a contradictory feeling, as if the man had never been there in the first place.

Yet, his hand…

His gaze dropped to it. The lingering cold was still there, seeping into his skin. He clenched his fingers, but the sensation isn't fading.

Even with his eyes closed, he could still feel it.

"Are you okay?" his mother asked, noticing the fear in Kai'len's eyes.

Ana'lyn's chest tightened with anger as her eyes darted through the crowd, searching for the stranger. But he had already vanished. Around her, families talked, children laughed—oblivious to the dread still clinging to her.

She won't dismiss this,

Kai'len brushed his hands against his trench coat before shoving them into his pockets, trying to warm away the lingering cold.

"Mama! Pudding time!" Lyn'chael's voice calmed the situation. Ana'lyn smiled, charmed by her daughter.

"Ohh, brother, looks like he's just seen a ghost!" she teased.

Kai'len exhaled, forcing composure. "But the ghost is you!" he shot back.

"Heh?!"

Lyn'chael's laughter made everything feel normal again. But deep inside, Kai'len wasn't sure if the cold he felt was just anxiety—or if it was something real.

"Give me your right palm," Ana'lyn commanded.

Hesitant, he obeyed. The moment her fingers brushed his skin—She felt it. The cold was real.

Kai'len's breath caught. How did she know?

But Ana'lyn had other motives. "Looks like I overreacted. You're fine," she lied.

That lie gave Kai'len a sense of relief—perhaps exactly as Ana'lyn intended. Working at a clinic, she understood the power of a placebo.

In the background, Alexander and Lyn'chael were still enjoying their father-daughter time.

"I know a place that sells really good pudding," Alexander said. "Ana, Kai'len, let's go."

But Alexander wasn't blind. He caught the unease in Ana'lyn and Kai'len's expressions.

"Did something happen?"

Ana'lyn explained that a strange man had sat beside Kai'len and held his hand too tightly. "I'll tell you everything later, but for now, let's go get that pudding."

Alexander understood.

"But Mom, maybe the stranger was just mentally ill," Lyn'chael said. Her tone wasn't insulting—just curious.

Ana'lyn ruffled her daughter's hair. "You're so silly."

Kai'len, however, couldn't help but think, "She has a point."

"Hey now, don't assume things like that," Alexander added, though his voice carried the same playful ease.

As the family made their way out, Kai'len glanced toward the church's grand entrance.

The stranger was nowhere to be found.

Beneath his trench coat, the chill finally started to fade—replaced by a sense of relief.

And yet… being called "dull and empty" sticks with him. The unexplainable fear still stays, but now, so does something else—an unwelcome sense of insecurity.

He should have paid more attention to the person beside the stranger. After all, he wanted to know if that person had experienced the same thing he did.

"Next time I'll pay more attention."

"Dull and empty," and a "bleeding eye tattoo"—to Kai'len, this was just a very odd day.

As they stepped outside, Kai'len didn't want the encounter to affect his mood—after all, they were about to eat pudding. However, familiar faces greeted them at the grand entrance—Roderick Al'wood and his family.

Liam Al'wood stood beside his older brother, Gareth, a tall and broad-shouldered boy dressed similarly to him. Their sister Celeste chatted with their parents, Sir Roderick and Priscilla Al'wood.

Sir Roderick, a rugged man with a thick gray beard, contrasted with his wife, Priscilla—a slender woman with long, silky brown hair, resembling a more refined version of their daughter Celeste in her younger years.

Roderick Al'wood wore a fur-lined overcoat, high-collared vest, and sturdy boots—rugged yet dignified, his silver brooch marking his lineage—while Priscilla donned a deep blue high-neck dress, a lace shawl, and a pearl pendant accenting her effortless grace.

The Imperias and Al'woods shared a long history. Once esteemed paladins, Roderick and Alexander had since retired—Alexander choosing a quiet life as a horologist, while Roderick built a successful logging company where his sons now worked.

Despite her admiration for her father, Lyn'chael was drawn to fashion and often looked to Alexander for style inspiration.

Her father has an impeccable fashion sense.

Priscilla and Ana'lyn also played vital roles in the community, co-managing the local clinic. Meanwhile, Lyn'chael studied at Luxford Academy, a prestigious institution on the mainland of Svet—though her branch in Leuvana was a lesser one.

Ambitious and creative, Lyn'chael dreamed of running her own clothing line, yet she also nurtured an interest in horology, inspired by her father's craft. To that end, she taught herself to crochet and sew while also assisting Celeste at her flower shop, a well-loved local business.

Kai'len, however, had no such freedom.

As the eldest son of the Imperia family, it was his duty to become a paladin.

A duty he despised.

Although Alexander had left the Paladinic Order, it remained his responsibility to train his son. And yet—every time he looked at Kai'len, standing within these church walls, he knew.

This life wasn't meant for him.

But what choice did he have?

He could never defy the church.

Chapter End.