The first light of dawn touched damp Saint Seraphina's-glass windows, long before the gospel and prayers of the morning. Last night's rain filled in through the cracks of the cathedral creating a muddy mess.
Yet even through the mess, a lone, solemn voice rang.
"Crawl out of the depths of man," the singer muttered, his voice a low growl that abruptly shifted into a higher, melodic tone, "With eyes of fire… no, hearts of ice." He broke off with a frustrated sigh. "Damn it! I just can't get it right!"
The singer glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 11:30 am, his eyes shot out like a cartoon character. " Shit, I'm actually so stupid I forgot to do the chores. Father Simeon is gonna kill me if I don't do them before I leave. " He cursed under his breath, scrambling around the altar. He was knocking over candles as he tried grabbing the other candles. His dark hair shadowed his pale skin as he moved, and a brief smile flickered across his face. He had a pallid look, unlikely to attract much attention.
The commotion attracted two figures who entered through a side door. A sister whose sliver hair was pulled back so tight her face looked almost elastic. She has a serene look on her face masked any imperfections. She nodded towards the harried singer.
"He's a lively one, up this early don't you think, Father Thomas?" she whispered.
The young priest beside her, arms full with a stack of hymnals, adjusted his grip and watched the boy closely. His face, still smoothed with youth by age, was marked with a persistent worry he wore like a second robe.
"He's always like this," Father Thomas murmured. "Ever since Kael got here, he's really… been at it, you know?"
Sister Agnes smiled faintly, her tone gentle. "I think you mean dedicated, Thomas. Still, I worry about him sometimes."
"Why so?"
"Do you remember how Kael was when he first arrived here? He was a timid and frightened child, practically abandoned by his own father."
"And now?" Thomas allowed himself a small smile, rare. "He fills the emptiness with his voice. It's a gift, certainly. But… it's more than just performing for him, isn't it?"
Sister Agnes's gaze lingered on Kael, who spun clumsily on his heel, snapping his fingers in rhythm to an unheard melody. "But it's not just for show. " she said softly " It's more like he's… trying to get someone to… notice him? I think he wants someone to be happy, even if he's still figuring out how to do it."
Kael, lost in his own world, continued to hum as he snapped and twirled his fingers like a conductor leading an invisible orchestra. He moves in quick steps getting faster as with each candle he placed in its proper place.
Morning light finally hit through all of the cathedral windows hitting the colored windows throwing bright red and blue stripes across the altar.
A shadow moved with it.
An older man approached, the morning sun outlining his worn figure. His robes swayed softly with each step, and his face tired it, holding both concern and quiet warmth.
"You're up earlier than usual, Kael."
Kael turned at the familiar voice, a smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, Father. I have…to leave today."
Father Simeon's brow creased. "Leaving? Oh my. Was it today already?"
Kael chuckled. "I guess your old age is catching up to you, old man."
"Hush, my child. Or I won't pay your fare."
"Okay, okay! Sorry, sorry." Kael grinned, raising his hands in surrender.
Then, more hesitantly, he glanced toward the side aisle.
"Oh, uh...Father Simeon? Can we talk before I go?"
Father Simeon blinked, a little surprised, but nodded. "Of course, Kael. Come find me when you're ready."
Kael hesitated. His smile faltered just slightly.
"Can we talk now, actually?"
Father Simone paused. He then sat down on the nearest bench.
"Of course, my child. Why wait? Let's sit."
They moved to the front pews, away from the altar's light. Kael sat first, hands folded between his knees, staring at the floor. He took a slow breath.
"I'm going to join a troupe," he said. "They're traveling through Arlinne first then the rest of the free cities. So I'm leaving at noon."
Thomas nodded, the corners of his mouth curving up in encouragement but Kael wasn't looking at him. His gaze drifted toward the windows again, distant and cold. His fingers dug into his palms.
"There's more to it than that," Kael said, voice quieter now. "You know why I need to leave."
The priest's smile faded. "Kael?"
Kael's jaw tensed. He finally turned his eyes toward Father Simeon and the softness was gone. Beneath them burned something brittle.
"You knew, didn't you?" His voice cracked slightly. "You… all knew the truth."
Father Simeon, confused, sat upright. "Kael, what are you–"
"Don't act like you dont know!" Kael stood abruptly, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "You knew what he did. My father! You knew he made a contract with a demon, and gave up his son's soul. MY SOUL. For something—whatever it was. And then he left me. Left me to rot here, half-demon, half-human, forced to live my life like some sort of `Monster`!"
His words hung in the cathedral like ash, the air thick with tension.
Simeon looked stunned, His hands trembled slightly in his lap.
"We didn't know … the only thing we know for sure is that he left you here. That's it," he said carefully.
"Lies!" Kael spat, his voice cracking beneath the weight of it. "Don't pretend. You've always looked at me with pity, like I was something broken. You didn't take me in out of kindness. You took me in because you knew. You always knew."
Kael's shoulders sagged. His rage spent, what remained in his voice was quieter. Tired.
"So yes, I have to leave. I want to be able to live the life I want! To be able to write my own story. Here? I feel like I'm trapped with no way out."
He stepped down from the pew, not waiting for a response.
"I'm going to leave now."
Father Simeon did not say anything and just listened, his hands wiping his watery eyes.
Kael proceeded to get off the stage and just walk out. Kael's footsteps echoed through the cathedral, each one fading like the last note of a song.
He didn't look back.
"Godspeed."
Father Simeon remained seated, hands folded in his lap, his gaze locked on the doors Kael had just passed through. For a long time, he didn't move.
Then he let out a long, trembling sigh and hunched forward, elbows digging into his knees, as if the boy's absence had hollowed the bench beneath him, left it, and him, unbearably empty.
Behind him, Thomas stood frozen in place. His hands had gone slack in his lap, eyes still red-rimmed. After a moment, he made his way over to Simeon's side.
He didn't speak right away. He just sat beside the older man in silence, the two of them facing the flickering candlelight at the altar.
Finally, Thomas spoke, voice low. "You knew."
Simeon didn't deny it. "Not everything. But enough."
Thomas swallowed hard. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Simeon exhaled slowly. "Because it wasn't my truth to tell. It was his. And now… he's chosen to carry it."
Silence pressed between them again. Outside, the bells of Saint Seraphina began to ring.
Thomas watched the light stretch across the floor, shifting as the morning rose. "He's hurting."
"Yes," Simeon said. "But he's walking forward anyway. That's more than most manage to do."
Thomas lowered his head. "Do you think he'll come back?"
Simeon looked toward the doors, then toward the altar where Kael had once danced. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, one lined with both sorrow and pride.
"I don't know," he said quietly, "But I don't want him to, coming back here will make him hurt again." he said quietly.
"He's doing what most people wish to do, and for that I'm proud of him. As if he was my own… flesh and blood."