While Luke stared down the small gap of the window equivalence inside this room in the barrack, Gareth finally voiced out.
"Luke, would you want to accompany me to meet Father Wingate?"
With nothing else to do, Luke accepted. The two men now headed towards the Cathedral. The Cathedral was not within the castle territory, so they had to leave the fortified grounds. It was among the other buildings built on the castle's outskirts, still within the vicinity of the City of Purewood.
Gareth's leg was still healing, so they strolled. This gave Luke a chance to experience the sound, smell, feeling, and atmosphere of the city in much more detail. When he first arrived, he was riding in the carriage, but now he was walking. The experience was entirely different.
The cobblestone streets of Purewood echoed with the rhythm of daily life. Vendors called out, advertising their wares—freshly baked bread, fragrant herbs, handmade trinkets. The air was thick with the scent of earth, mingled with the tang of metal from the blacksmith's forge and the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts. Children played in the alleyways, their laughter a stark contrast to the solemnity of the castle grounds. The city was alive in a way Luke hadn't fully appreciated from the carriage.
As they walked, Luke noticed the details of the buildings. Each structure was a testament to time and craftsmanship, with weathered stone facades, wooden beams, and intricate carvings that told stories of the city's past. The streets, though narrow, were bustling with people—merchants, artisans, soldiers, and common folk, all weaving the tapestry of Purewood's vibrant life.
The further they walked from the castle, the more Luke could appreciate the juxtaposition of old and new. While some buildings retained their ancient charm, others showed signs of recent repairs and modifications. It was a city in transition, holding onto its history while reaching for its future.
Finally, they arrived at the Cathedral. Despite its grand name, it was no bigger than a standard church. The Cathedral of Purewood, like many other structures in the city, seemed to be named with aspirations for a grander future. Its stone walls were adorned with simple yet elegant stained glass windows, depicting scenes of valour and peace. A modest bell tower rose above the entrance, its bronze bell gleaming in the midday sun.
Luke and Gareth paused at the entrance, taking in the sight. The Cathedral, though humble in size, emanated a quiet reverence. It was a place of solace and hope, a cornerstone for the community. Gareth opened the heavy wooden doors, and they stepped inside.
The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtered through the stained glass casting colourful patterns on the stone floor. Wooden pews lined the nave, leading up to a simple altar. Candles flickered in their holders, their soft glow illuminating the faces of a few worshippers scattered throughout the space.
Gareth's pace slowed even more as they approached the altar, his reverence for the place evident in his careful steps. Luke took in the details—the scent of incense, the faint echo of whispered prayers, the cool, serene atmosphere. It was a stark contrast to the bustling city outside.
As they neared the altar, they saw a figure dressed in black and white, a woman tending to the flowers. Before Luke could take in more details, Gareth called out.
"Sister Maria!"
The woman turned, her face lighting up with recognition. She dropped her watering spout and rushed towards Gareth. Once close, she enveloped him in a hug.
Luke, never a believer and unfamiliar with church customs, found this surprising. He had never attended church or understood the norms associated with religious figures. However, we might argue that a sister hugging someone is inappropriate. But in this world, religious understanding is different.
They follow the Noirist belief, where God is referred to simply as God, without any specific name. They believe that special humans, like mages and witches, are gifts from God. This belief system doesn't adhere to the strict rules known to us. Acts like sisters or fathers getting married, or touching between genders, are more accepted here, as long as there is no inappropriate behavior involved.
"Sister Maria, I missed you," Gareth said, his voice warm.
Now that Luke was closer, he noticed the features of Sister Maria. She wasn't young, probably around the age of Sir Carrick. She must have worked alongside Father Wingate to take care of orphans here.
"Luke, this is Sister Maria. Sister Maria, this is Luke, a friend I make as I travel back here," Gareth turned to Luke and introduced him.
"Nice to meet you, Luke. And thank you for being our dear Gareth's friend," Sister Maria smiled warmly at Luke.
"It's natural, right? Being friends, I mean," Luke, feeling slightly embarrassed by the attention, shrugged.
Sister Maria led them through the Cathedral, towards a secluded room at the back where Father Wingate was. The Cathedral, despite its grand name, was no larger than a standard church. Its stone walls and simple stained glass windows emanated a sense of humble sanctity.
They passed through corridors adorned with simple but elegant religious artefacts. The sound of their footsteps echoed softly in the quiet space. Finally, they reached a small room at the back. The door was slightly ajar, and inside, they could see an older man engrossed in a book.
"Father Wingate, we have visitors," Sister Maria knocked gently on the door.
Father Wingate looked up from his book, his face breaking into a warm smile as he saw Gareth and Luke.
"Gareth, my boy, it's been too long. And who is this young man you've brought with you?"
"This is Luke, Father. A friend I made. And also the one who saved me on the road," Gareth stepped forward, introducing Luke while also showcasing his bandaged thigh.
"Welcome, Luke. Any friend of Gareth's is a friend of ours. Please, come in," Father Wingate extended his hand to Luke, his grip firm and sincere.
Luke shook the Father's hand, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his grip. The journey to the Cathedral had been a slow, reflective one, allowing him to absorb the essence of Purewood. Now, standing in this place of quiet sanctity, Luke felt a sense of calm and belonging, despite the strangeness of the world he had been thrust into.
Father Wingate ushered them into his study, a cosy room lined with books and illuminated by the warm glow of candlelight. The room exuded a sense of calm and wisdom, reflective of its occupant. As they settled in, the atmosphere was suddenly disrupted by the sound of laughter and running footsteps.
A group of children burst into the room, their eyes wide with excitement. Despite the evening hour, they had snuck out of the orphanage building connected to the Cathedral. Sister Maria's gentle scolding fell on deaf ears as the children surrounded Gareth, their voices a chorus of joyful greetings.
"Big Brother Gareth! Big Bro! Big Brother!" they called out, each eager for his attention.
"Hey, everyone! I've missed you all," Gareth smiled warmly, kneeling to their level despite the discomfort in his leg.
The children's faces lit up even more as they clung to him, their affection for Gareth clear. He had grown up here, and even during his training as a knight, he had often returned to help out, forming strong bonds with the orphans.
Meanwhile, a few of the children's attention shifted to Luke. Mostly girls, they approached him with curiosity.
"Who are you?" one of them asked, her eyes wide.
"Why is your hair a different colour?" another chimed in, her small hand reaching out to touch Luke's bright blonde hair.
Luke smiled awkwardly, realizing a stark difference between himself and the people here. Everyone else that he had met had dark hair—black or deep brown—while his hair, a bright blonde, stood out dramatically. It was a feature genetically passed down from his parents, a reminder of the family he had left behind and his tumultuous past. The realization brought mixed feelings, a combination of pride and resentment.
The girls continued their barrage of questions.
"Where are you from?"
"Do you like it here?"
"What's your favourite food?"
Luke tried to answer each question, but their curiosity seemed insatiable.
Thankfully, Sister Maria intervened, herding the children away.
"Alright, everyone, give our guests some space. It's almost dinner time, and we need to let them rest," she turned to Gareth and Luke with a smile. "Since you're already here, why don't you join us for dinner?"
Gareth and Luke exchanged glances before nodding in agreement.
"That sounds wonderful, Sister Maria. Thank you," Gareth said, his voice filled with gratitude.
As the children were led away, their laughter and chatter gradually fading, Gareth and Luke followed Sister Maria towards the dining area. The evening air was cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers. The path was lit by lanterns, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the gathering dusk.
They entered a spacious room with long wooden tables and benches, simple yet welcoming. The aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, making Luke's stomach rumble in anticipation. Despite the simplicity of the setting, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and camaraderie.
As they took their seats, Luke looked around, taking in the scene. The orphanage, the children, the people—everything about this place was different from what he had known, yet it felt oddly comforting. He glanced at Gareth, who seemed equally at ease, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the children and their caretakers bustling around.
The sound of clinking utensils and soft conversation filled the room as everyone settled in for the meal. Sister Maria and Father Wingate joined them, their presence adding to the sense of community and belonging. Luke couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the kindness and acceptance he had found here.