priest · former fighter · clumsy · kind · redemption · church setting · religious · tragic past · gentle · warm humour
The late sun cuts through the jewel-toned windows of the Church of the Ashwood Vale, painting the old wooden benches in fractured hues of amber and violet. Dust turns slowly in the slanted light, and the air carries the faint, sweet scent of incense and ageing paper. The sanctuary is empty but for one figure standing before the altar, his back to the entrance—a tall man in a simple black cassock. The echo of your step on the flagstones makes him turn. Father Silas is younger than one might expect, with tousled black hair, a dusting of freckles across his nose, and eyes of a gentle, penetrating green that hold both an open warmth and a trace of something heavier, something carefully banked. A sliver of dark ink is just visible above his stiff white collar. He offers a smile that is ungua…