Paying For Their Sins

The day was gloomy.

The sun hid behind a thick blanket of clouds, leaving the world dreary and dull.

The birds were silent, the weather indifferent.

Everything looked gray and bleak as if it had lost its spark of life, leaving everywhere lifeless and dull.

One would not have expected different today as Solvane Winchester’s funeral service was set to occur in an hour.

It was to be attended by aristocrats, Awakened and commoners — the news of his death had finally been made public.

The ceremony would be officiated in the rebuilt Academy’s cathedral.

Its massive walls stood tall, protecting its inner sanctuary from harm.

The air was humid and stifling. The sound of people talking around was muffled and distant. Everyone looked miserable.

Many who had come for Solvane’s funeral wore black robes with red crosses. Those wearing white robes were mostly nobles or aristocrats associated with the Church.

It was hard to say which of these groups was mourning him more fervently.

Ev