Saints and Sinners {OPEN}

[ROSS ♥ WHITE]

Religious was a far stretch description of the lanky lad who poked his curious
head in through the wide set doors of the cathedral. From what he could
manage to see in the dim light it looked polished, pristine and perfect as if it
had been built a day before rather than hundreds of years earlier. The room
smelled of flowers, incense, candles and old pages from bibles which sat patiently
in the pews awaiting the hands of pious worshipers who sought refuge in the
pages sent from God. However, as of late there were less and less followers
who came for fear they would be mistaken for the wild and twisted radicals
known as the holy cross. Despite the absence the room was open and
welcoming keeping it’s warmth for the return of the faithful. Although he was
neither faithful nor pious, he was curious and simple, looking for answers to
questions God maybe didn’t have the answers for.

He tread quietly along the pews where dozens upon hundreds of people had
passed before looking for the same guidance. Pages of history unfolded as the
light filtered through the stain glass windows. Each depicted tales of biblical
stories interpreted into French art and touched with the grace of its aristocratic
class. There was a story in the books of the school’s grand history that laid out
the groundwork of the school. Page by page its script built the church idea by
idea, hand over hand and brick by brick. As the mind watched the church went
from dust to magnificence in only a few moments, finally ending at the altar
when Sophie married her beloved and redeemed the years lost to tyranny at
the hands of the revolution.

Ross took a seat at the nearest pew to the front. Weary eyes traced over the
altar, half-expecting the holy ghost to pop up right then and there. “Lord I’m
not angry…” The prayer began and slowly he tucked his head into his hands
resting them on his knees. The burdens remained, but it was easy to talk to
the divine with some hope that they were truly listening. There was a side to
every story and Ross was the kind of youth who understood that. The
revolution was freedom on the side of the people, but it unleashed a merciless
attack on innocent monarchs and aristocrats. St. Gabriel was a refuge for those
being hunted by the Holy Cross, but a place that was dangerous for those who
were ignorant enough to believe in such radicalism.

There was no right or wrong, but simply the hope that people supernatural and
natural alike would be able to be good to one another. As the air remained silent
and the boy was flustered with the loss of words, the prayer stopped. Unable to
think of the right things to say, he remained idle in the pew staring quietly at the
holy images that lined the walls and statues. It was doubtful he’d be interrupted
in a place which so many avoided.

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