Chapter Text
“Shit, shit, shit!” a dirty-blond figure running through the streets whisper-shouted to herself. The soles of her Converse slapped against the cobblestone, echoing off the tall stone buildings that lined the narrow road. In the rapidly approaching distance, the Sanctus Lilith Cathedral came into view, its towering Gothic spires almost vertigo-inducing against the warm morning sky. The massive stained-glass windows glimmered faintly in the morning light, casting streaks of crimson and gold across the cathedral’s arched facade.
The blond girl finally reached the large oak doors that marked the entrance to the ongoing mass beyond the threshold. Her lungs burned, and her breath came in sharp, uneven bursts. She slowly and carefully opened one of the doors just enough to slip inside, wincing as it creaked. I told Mom I wouldn't be late to mass this time, she scolded herself silently.
Her eyes darted through the sea of full pews, scanning for a familiar face. Then, a mop of white hair caught her attention, someone sitting in one of the back pews, not too far from where she stood. There was an empty spot beside him. Perfect. She tiptoed down the aisle, trying not to draw attention as the priest’s voice droned on about holiness and devotion. When she reached him, she saw the glint of earbuds tucked in his ears, faint metal music leaking out. She couldn’t tell what band it was—something heavy, maybe nu metal.
With a hesitant tap on his shoulder, she got his attention. He turned, removing one earbud, revealing pale blue eyes that seemed almost silver in the cathedral’s dim light.“What?” the white-haired boy said, his tone sharp and edged with annoyance.
“Hi. Sorry to bother, but could I sit here?” she whispered, trying not to disturb anyone else.
The boy gave a quiet scoff, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like be on time next time.
“Fine,” he finally said. She smiled in relief and slid into the seat beside him, folding her hands and pretending to focus as His Holiness continued his sermon.
“-and we are blessed to have our holy city, Santo Diavolo, to be gifted with such a divine connection to our Lord, whose spilled blood built our sacred grounds…”
His words seemed to stretch on forever, blending into a rhythmic chant. Cassandra’s mind drifted. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at the boy again, only to find him already looking back at her. His expression shifted from indifference to curiosity, flickering across his features. She turned away quickly, her cheeks heating.
“Sorry,” she mumbled under her breath.
After what felt like an eternity, His Holiness began the final prayer. The congregation’s unified “Amen” echoed through the hall as everyone began to stand and file out. Cassandra took the chance to glance back at the boy again. This time, she gathered her courage.
“Ahem,” she said softly.He looked up from gathering his things.
“Yeah, what do you need now?” His tone was noticeably less sharp this time, more curious than irritated.
“ I just wanted to properly introduce myself! I’m Cassandra, Cassandra White. But Cass is fine,” she said quickly, offering a tentative smile.
The boy blinked, staring at her like his mind had momentarily frozen.
“Wait… like the Whites? You’re from the lineage of blacksmiths that’ve made the Order’s blades for centuries!?”
Cass tilted her head, a little surprised by his sudden excitement.
“Yeah, that’s my family! I’m not like my dad, though; I never really took up the family business. But, if you don’t mind… could I get your name?”
“ I’m Nathaniel, but everyone calls me Nathan,” he replied, the corners of his lips twitching into a slight grin.
Before Cass could respond, a familiar, sharp voice cut through the soft murmurs of the departing congregation.
“Cassandra Vivian White! Late to mass again? This is the fifth time since we moved back!”
Cass froze. Her mother, a tall, thin woman with her blond hair lying loosely around her shoulders, stood by the pews with an exasperated look, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her father, a hulking man just shy of 6’6”, with broad shoulders and a warm smile, placed a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Now, now, Beatrice, no need to be so harsh. It’s been a long time since she’s been in a place where we can properly worship. The old town had no Malavita churches. Give her time.”
The parents’ voices softened into quiet murmurs as they spoke, the sound fading under the cathedral’s lofty ceilings. Cassandra turned back to Nathan, offering a sheepish smile. He looked from her to her father, then back again, a spark of amused awe in his eyes.
“So that’s why you snuck in. chronically late, huh?” he teased.
“I really don't mean to, I just get distracted with stuff I'm doing before,” she says lightly. Her parents walk towards the door, but before they leave, they talk to Cass.
“Remember, be home soon, and if you're late to mass next week, there will be consequences. What they are, I don't know yet. We’ll talk when you get home,” Beatrice says and begins to walk away, flashing her a warm smile, followed by a “love you.” Her father follows similarly, but ruffles her hair as he walks by. Cassandra grumbles and fixes her hair.
“See you when I get home! Love you too,” she calls out to her parents. Cass gave Nathan a nod towards a pew. Nathan nods back. The pair sits down in one of the pews. Nathan sits with his leg bouncing, creating a repetitive noise that echoes off the looming ceiling.
“So… you used to live here?” he asks, his head tilting towards her with a sheepish smile. She doesn't respond for a moment, her gaze fixed on the statue of Salvare standing tall behind the lectern in the front of the church.
“Hm? Yeah, I grew up here. We moved when I was five or six.”
“Oh yeah, why did you move?”
“It was my dream to be a model, and when I was like six, I got an offer from an agency in Hedgestone. I've been modeling for almost 11 years now,” she says with a wide smile. She looks genuinely proud of herself.
“ My family and I moved back because of some stuff,” she starts again.
“No shot, really? That's so sick. It must be awesome to have your dream job already!” His eyes held a hint of admiration for her craft, and the two chatted for a bit, the cathedral mostly empty, until a very familiar face to the two of them approached. His Holiness, in his pure white robes with extravagant gold and red embroidery, imagery of Salvare and his saints woven into the delicate fabric. His tall, pope-like hat features similar patterns along the rim, with the crest of the holy order centered—a sword, wrapped in angel wings, the epitome of holiness to his people.
“Ahh, Cassandra, my child,” he speaks with a gentle smile
“It has been far too long… I trust you kept up with your training, yes?” his smile never leaves his face as he asks.
“Of course, your holiness. I would be in big trouble with father if I weren't” blush creeping up her ears at the mention of her training.
“Oh! And before I forget, hello to you as well, knight in training Nathaniel.” he gives a short nod to the young man. And with that, his holiness bids adieu to the two. As the holy man walks towards the back exit, Nathaniel slowly turns his head to Cassandra, her face already morphed into a weary smile.
“YOU'RE A HOLY KNIGHT IN TRAINING?!?!?!?”