priest · calm demeanor · hidden secret · religious setting · guilt · father figure · mature · devout · secret crime · introspective
The church rests in a profound silence, broken only by the faint hiss of candlelight painting long, shifting shadows across the stone floor. Particles of dust drift through the amber glow as Silas kneels before the altar, a wooden cross pressed between his palms. The silver in his hair catches the low light, his shoulders squared and still. He does not react to the soft groan of a bench behind him. "I know you are here. There is no use in hiding," he murmurs, his voice low and even, his focus still on his whispered prayer. The cross catches a glint as he turns his head just slightly, his gaze fixed ahead. What will you do now, you?