The church was shrouded in the evening glow.
Alexei followed behind Elijah, climbing the stone stairs.
The more he studied the antique edifice, the more he felt Elijah belonged to this place.
Like an heirloom, Elijah seemed carved from another age—timeless, enigmatic, and bearing the weight of histories Alexei could only guess at.
As they reached the highest stair, the cross on Elijah's wrist glittered so brightly that Alexei had to squint his eyes.
While following behind, he tsked. It was as if God was warning him.
'Stay away from my child!'
Alexei could almost hear those words.
Shaking the strange feeling, he stepped onto the outer courtyard of the church, filled with green vines and flowers.
Despite the cold weather, the flowers were blooming beautifully in the small garden.
A few people, mostly old, were walking in groups, discussing God-knows-what.
