The Morning was filled Tension in the Air
Lucas sensed something was different the moment he woke up.
No gong had sounded yet, but distant voices echoed through the hallways, hurried, anxious, excited. He rubbed his eyes, confused. Usually the Cathedral moved like a machine: quiet, orderly, predictable. Today it sounded like a hive someone had hit with a stick.
He barely got his robes on before Finn burst into his room.
"Lucas! Lucas!" Finn gasped, doubled over, hands on his knees. "You uh you need to come outside."
Lucas blinked. "What is it? Did Merilda add another forty-eighth prayer stance? Because I refused?."
"No! Just come!"
Finn grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward the main courtyard.
Lucas's stomach dropped as soon as he saw the scene.
A procession of armored knights wearing the sun-emblazoned crest of House Vaskarus stood near the entrance. Gold-threaded banners hung from their lances. Carriages lined the steps. Clergy were lined up in perfect formation.
At the center of it all…
…stood a man Lucas hadn't seen in months.
Marquess William Vaskarus.
His father.
The Marquess had arrived himself.
William stood tall despite his age, though Lucas could see the tension in his posture, the weight of sickness pressing down. His hair had gone almost entirely white, and deep lines carved his once-fearsome face. But his eyes…
His eyes were burning.
Burning with pride. Burning with longing. Burning with a fierce joy Lucas couldn't remember ever seeing directed at him.
Merilda bowed respectfully. "Marquess William, it is an honor-"
William cut her off gently. "Where is my son?"
Lucas froze.
My son.
Two words he hadn't expected to hear today. Not from the Marquess. Not spoken with warmth.
Finn nudged him hard. "Go!"
Lucas swallowed.
His legs moved on their own.
As he approached, William inhaled sharply, as if Lucas's mere presence stole the breath from his lungs. Tears glimmered at the corners of his eyes, which he tried (and failed) to blink away.
"Lucas…" William whispered. "My boy."
It was strange. Lucas had seen this man angry, furious, strict. But seeing him emotional, trembling, vulnerable.. felt like witnessing a mountain crumble.
Lucas bowed stiffly. "Father."
William stepped forward and placed a hand on his son's shoulder, hesitant at first, then firm. "You have brought honor to our bloodline greater than I ever dreamed."
He paused, voice cracking.
"You… have become what I once prayed I could be."
Lucas's breath caught.
For a moment, they stood there, neither able to speak.
Even Merilda seemed moved.
The courtyard watched in stunned silence.
A Gift from a Devotee..
William gestured, and one of his knights stepped forward carrying a long, velvet-wrapped case. He placed it gently before the High Priestess.
"A gift," William said, "for the Cathedral. And for my son, the Saint."
Merilda opened the case.
A ceremonial sword gleamed inside, forged of solar steel, an alloy that shimmered gold in the light and pale white in the shadows. The guard was shaped like wings. The blade was etched with scripture.
It was breathtaking.
Merilda bowed. "House Vaskarus honors us greatly."
"Lucas," William said, turning to him, "one day, when the doctrine permits, this blade will be yours to wield in Lia's name."
Lucas stared wide-eyed. "Father, this must've cost-"
"No price," William interrupted, "is too high for the Sun Goddess. Or for you."
Lucas didn't know what to say. The warmth in William's voice wrapped around him like sunlight, unexpected and overwhelming.
But then…
A tiny tug at Lucas's sleeve.
Finn stood behind him, quiet. Selene next to him. Both of them watching the scene carefully.
And suddenly Lucas remembered something.
Something Finn told him yesterday.
Something he hadn't thought deeply about until now.
Almost all the people here are orphans of the Cathedral
Most people here… didn't have fathers.
Or mothers.
Or any family at all.
Priest trainees. Holy knights-in-training. Choir children. Acolytes. Even older clergy left at church doors as infants, or taken in after war, plague, or poverty claimed their families.
Finn and Selene…
They stood there like shadows behind Lucas, stiff and unreadable. Finn forced a smile. Selene kept her gaze down.
Lucas felt his chest tighten.
His father was here, towering, proud, lavishly gifting the Cathedral. Meanwhile, Finn had once told him he didn't even know his parents' names. Selene remembered only a smoke-filled village and a priest who found her wandering in the ruins.
Lucas had always known the Cathedral housed orphans.
But seeing them watch this…
Watching Lucas receive something they never had…
It twisted something inside him.
Merilda, noticing the tension, cleared her throat gently. "Marquess William, if you would allow the Saint a moment… he still has lessons this morning."
William nodded. "Of course."
He leaned close to Lucas. "I will remain here a few days. I wish to… speak with you. Truly speak."
Lucas blinked. "You mean-?"
William squeezed his shoulder. "We have much to discuss. But another time."
The Marquess stepped back as clergy began escorting him inside.
Lucas stood frozen until William disappeared into the Cathedral halls.
Only then did the courtyard breathe again.
Lucas felt Guilt.
Finn approached first.
"Your father seems… very strong," Finn said with a fragile smile.
Lucas stared at him. "Finn…"
"It's okay," Finn said quickly. "Really. I mean he is your father. It's a big deal. Everyone's has been talking about it."
Selene stepped beside Finn. "It's normal for some nobles to visit. You don't need to feel bad."
But they both said it too fast.
Too casually.
Too rehearsed.
Lucas felt his throat tighten. "Do you… have any family left?" he asked quietly.
Selene answered first. "No."
Finn shook his head. "No. The Cathedral raised us."
Lucas exhaled slowly, guilt pooling in his stomach.
His father had come with banners, soldiers, and gifts.
Their parents… were graves or ghosts.
Lucas felt warm power flicker in his fingertips, the same instinct he felt when channeling his divinity.
But this warmth wasn't divine.
It was human.
He placed a hand on Finn's shoulder.
"You're my friend," Lucas said softly. "Both of you are. That won't change because of him."
Finn blinked, startled.
Selene looked away, hiding the faintest smile.
Lucas swallowed. "If you ever want to talk about it… your families… or anything… you can TALK ANYTHINGGG. With me."
Finn's eyes watered a little before he wiped them quickly. "Lucas… thanks."
Selene nodded. "We stand together here."
Lucas breathed out, relieved and heavier at once.
Friends.
Real friends.
Not because he was a Saint.
But because he was Lucas.
The Evening was A Shadow of What Comes Next
Merilda appeared at the doorway, expression unreadably calm.
"Saint Lucas," she said. "Your father requests a private dinner tonight. I assume you will accept."
Lucas hesitated.
Finn and Selene glanced at him.
Lucas's heart wavered between two worlds:
The noble house that ignored him for years…
And the Cathedral where he was finally starting to belong.
He exhaled.
"I'll see him," Lucas said. "But after that… I'm coming back here."
Merilda's lips curved ever so slightly, pride? amusement? relief?.. before she nodded and left.
Finn elbowed Lucas gently. "Make him proud, Saint Lucas."
Selene added, deadpan, "Try not to trip on your robe."
Lucas groaned. "You two are the worst."
But he was smiling.
And as night descended over the Cathedral, Lucas felt something stronger than divine power settle into him:
A future.
A family, the one he was born to, and the one he found.
Both waiting for him.