Chapter narrated by Cedric Aurelios
9/14/15
The air of the night was cold. A complete contrast of the warmth that was inside the church.
I was alone outside the church, this is what I wanted after all.
I did not want the other members of the church to see me like this.
I feel so silly, I'm a grown man, I have built a church, fought monsters, raised an amazing daughter, and brought my goddess into this world this afternoon. Yet even after all of that the feeling that invaded myself was sadness.
But that was not the funniest part, the funniest part was my emotions were having a noticeable impact on myself. I felt like a teenager, not being able to hold back what I was feeling.
"Oh Alfira. I bet if you were here you would kick my ass and laugh at me for being an old man controlled by his feelings in the middle of the night."
"Alfira? Who is that Father Cedric?" A voice said behind me.
I turned around in surprise, there was Mayreel standing behind me with a bottle of wine in her hand.
"No one… Just an old friend" My voice came quicker than I wanted to. "Don't scare me like that, Mayreel, don't you see that my old heart can't resist these things anymore?"
"As if, then what are you planning to do when Lira gets married? Will your weak old heart be able to manage that?"
Lira?
Getting married?
Way too young for that!
"My daughter will absolutely never get married until she is a grown, self-sufficient adult!"
Mayreel just laughed at me.
"Look, you don't seem so sad anymore." She raised the bottle in her hand. "Want some?"
We sat together on the stairs of the church. Sharing the bottle made the night feel a little less cold.
"So…" Mayreel broke the silence.
"So?"
"So why do you have a long face on a day like this?" She took a sip from the bottle. "We just brought a goddess into the world."
I took the bottle from her and drank.
The words that came out were harder than I expected.
"I'm afraid, Mayreel."
She turned to me, her expression suddenly serious.
"Why?"
I hesitated, the bottle heavy in my hand.
"What will remain… after the goddess leaves?"
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" I took a slow breath. "What happens to a church whose goddess walks away? I fear what we've built…"
I looked down at the stone steps beneath us.
"…won't survive her absence."
Mayreel stayed quiet for a moment—then slapped the back of my head.
"Ouch! What was that for, Mayreel?!"
I grabbed the spot she hit.
"You really are dumber than I thought, Cedric."
"What do you mean?"
She took the bottle from my hands, took a sip, and let out a long breath.
"Do you want to know why I joined this church?"
I stayed quiet, letting her continue. Mayreel had never spoken much about herself.
"I was part of the soldiers of Reval for five years. I was going to be promoted to Mother of the Church… and I rejected it."
That was unexpected.
"Do you know why?" She looked down at the bottle, turning it slowly in her hands. "Because my faith in Reval felt empty. Completely empty. In those five years… not once did I feel his presence."
Her voice softened, but there was bitterness beneath it.
"The halls were always cold. Not because of the stone—but because of the people. Everything was rigid, distant… like everyone was pretending to believe instead of actually believing."
She took another sip.
"We prayed, we obeyed, we followed every rule… but it all felt hollow. Like speaking into a void and convincing yourself something was listening."
I said nothing, just placed a hand gently on her back.
She let out a slow breath before continuing.
"But here… it's different."
She glanced at me.
"This place shouldn't work. It breaks every rule the Church of Reval holds sacred." A faint smile crossed her face. "And yet… it feels more real than anything I experienced there."
She looked around at the quiet church behind us.
"What makes this place special, Cedric, is that it was built by one man who kept praying to the light when everyone else called him ridiculous, dumb, absurd… or a man with too much free time…"
"I get it already, Mayreel. No need to continue." My pride wouldn't survive it.
She smirked slightly.
"What I'm trying to say is… this place is different. It doesn't feel like a church."
Her voice softened.
"It feels like a home. A warm home… full of laughter. People argue, people complain, people make mistakes, but they stay. They care."
That is…
"Do you really see it like that?"
"Yes. Not just me, most of us do." She nudged my shoulder lightly. "So don't fill your head with nonsense about everything falling apart."
She raised the bottle again, taking a small sip before handing it back to me.
"You're stuck here with us for a long time, Cedric. Someone has to keep this place going for when the goddess… and that little turnip… decide to come back."
A faint chuckle escaped me at that.
"For when they return," she added more softly, "this place should still feel the same."
I looked at the church behind us.
Warm.
Alive.
Ours.
"We'll be here," she said. "Just as warm as always."
Mayreel pushed herself up from the steps, stretching slightly as she did.
"Well…" she let out a small sigh, rolling her shoulders, "I think that's enough wisdom for one night."
She glanced down at me, a faint smirk returning to her face.
"Try not to overthink things again, old man."
"I make no promises," I replied.
She scoffed lightly, turning toward the door.
"Of course you don't."
She took a few steps, then paused just before entering.
"…And Cedric?"
I looked up at her.
"Yeah?"
Her expression softened—just for a moment.
"Get some rest."
A small pause.
"Good night."
"Good night, Mayreel."
She gave a short nod, then stepped inside, the door closing quietly behind her.
The sound lingered longer than it should have.
Silence returned.
But it was no longer heavy.
I remained seated on the steps, the bottle resting loosely in my hands, my gaze drifting toward the night sky.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe this place had never been about a goddess staying…
…but about the people who chose to remain.
I let out a slow breath.
The tightness in my chest hadn't vanished, but it had softened.
For a moment, I thought I might break.
Tears threatened to rise, stubborn and unwelcome.
But I forced them down.
Not tonight.
"I suppose…" I muttered to myself, a faint smile forming despite everything, "an old man like me doesn't get to fall apart just yet."
My eyes drifted toward the church doors.
"Good night, Lira…"
My voice softened.
"…sleep well."
A small pause followed before I spoke again, quieter this time.
"Good night… Alfira. Wherever you are."
Then I stood up slowly, letting out one last breath before heading inside.
And for the first time since the goddess had arrived, I wasn't afraid of what would happen after she left.