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The Server's Chronicle: A Fantasy Of Faith

Senior Server Felix stood at the front of the church, his voice steady and solemn as he greeted the congregation. “Our help is in the name of the Lord,” he intoned. “Who made Heaven and Earth,” the people responded in unison, their voices matching his reverent tone. “Today, we initiate new members into this divine and holy Order,” Felix continued. “Today, we welcome new brethren into the bosom of our Lord Jesus Christ.” At the back of the church, Louis sat on one of the few single chairs, his posture slightly slouched as his focus remained on a sheet of music in his hands. The title read, "Brightest and Best – Key of A-flat." 'Why didn’t Gramps give me an F or G? A-flat is so difficult, and I only have three days to finish it,' he grumbled silently, his brow furrowing in frustration. But he dared not voice his complaints. He could already imagine his grandfather assigning him even more difficult pieces—F-sharps and endless A-flats—as punishment. From the front of the church, a serene voice called out, “Harry! Step forward!” Louis glanced up, momentarily pulled from his inner musings. His eyes landed on a girl stepping forward from the pews. She had black hair neatly styled in a bun and striking green eyes that seemed to shine with warmth and composure. Dressed in a modest brown dress and black sandals, with a rosary resting gracefully around her neck, she exuded a calm, dignified presence. Her tanned skin and graceful demeanor only added to the aura of reverence surrounding her, befitting an Altar server. 'Sigh,' Louis thought as he brushed a hand through his white hair, his blue eyes softening with a mix of admiration and envy. 'I wonder what it’s like to be an Altar server. They all seem so pure and divine… and powerful.' Just as he returned his attention to his music, a calm, gentlemanly voice spoke beside him. “You could also be an Altar server, if you’re interested.” “Huh?” Louis blurted out, snapping his head to the side. But no one was there. “What in the name of Jesus is going on here?” he muttered, glancing nervously around. “At least you know my name,” the voice replied again, seemingly amused. “What?” Louis whispered, his heart beginning to race. "I'm certain you will be a good server," the voice said, calm yet enigmatic. Louis narrowed his eyes, still searching for its source. "Who are you?" "I have many personalities. I have many names," the voice replied with an air of mystery. "It’s your choice which one you accept." "You’re not making any sense," Louis muttered, growing more unsettled. "Blessed are those who have not seen but believed…" Before Louis could respond, his vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to melt away. He jolted awake, gasping for air. His hands clutched the crumpled sheet of music, its corners bent from his restless grip. His head teetered precariously over the edge of his bed, a faint ache in his neck reminding him of the awkward position he’d been in. "Holy Mother of Jesus!" he exclaimed as he lost his balance, tumbling off the bed in a heap of blankets and scattered papers.
JuniKelv_ · 2.3K Views

A Note in the Café

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirled through the small café. Mia, a talented but self-doubting columnist, finds solace in her favorite neighborhood café, where the comforting hum of coffee machines and quiet conversations inspire her best work. Across the room sits a reserved bookshop owner with a passion for literature and a knack for lingering in the background. Mia noticed him, how he had a quiet intensity about him that intrigued her. But she was too reserved to approach, so their interactions were limited to fleeting glances and unspoken words. One destined morning, a torn page from reserved bookshop owner's favorite novel flutters to Mia’s feet. Scrawled in the margins is a note that reads: “If we wait for the perfect moment, it may never come.” Assuming it’s an accidental drop, Mia returns the page, only to learn this man left it for her intentionally—a quiet declaration of interest from a man who has admired her from afar. What starts as a hesitant introduction blossoms into a connection neither of them expected. As Mia helped him rediscover his long-abandoned dream of becoming a writer, he teaches her to embrace spontaneity and trust her instincts. Together, they prove that love, like the best stories, often begins with a leap of faith and a touch of serendipity. Set against the warm and inviting backdrop of their favorite café, "A Note in the Café" is a heartwarming tale about finding courage, following your heart, and discovering that the perfect moment is the one you create together.
Rareer_Gem · 5K Views

The Monster Hunter's Notes

On the day I was born, my village was struck by a series of bizarre events. First, Old Wang's white-haired dog, which had been with him for eight years, donned a black robe and stood upright, wandering the streets before stopping at my house to bow. Meanwhile, a horde of unusually large rats with blood-red eyes scurried through the streets, gathering at my doorstep and refusing to leave. This unusual sight enraged the village cats, sparking a fierce battle. Contrary to their usual behavior, the rats fearlessly clashed with the cats, leading to a gruesome scene with casualties on both sides. The villagers watched in stunned silence, while the elderly commented that such unnatural occurrences were omens of chaos as per ancient beliefs. That night, the strange occurrences continued with eerie opera singing emanating from an open space near my home. Curious onlookers ventured out only to discover the performers were figures made of paper, and the audience was a motley crew of supernatural beings surrounding a coffin. Inside the coffin, an old woman watched the spectacle with great interest. This sight terrified the villagers, who fled back to their homes, praying fervently for divine intervention from every deity they knew. The entire village, including my family, spent a sleepless night in fear. The following day, the creatures had vanished, leaving behind a mess that confirmed the night's events were not a dream. In rural areas, such supernatural incidents were often taken seriously, causing widespread alarm and speculation about a curse on my family. My grandfather, dressed in tattered clothes, rushed from the mountains and without explanation, began to beat my father and uncles severely, afterwards holding me and weeping bitterly. He ominously remarked that I was born a "bearer of sins, despised by both humans and ghosts," hinting at a mysterious affliction tied to my existence. That night, I developed a high fever and struggled between life and death, with my grandfather and uncles fighting off a malevolent spirit attempting to drain my life force. They fell ill from the ordeal, taking a month to recover. Years later, I learned of my grandfather's reasons for naming me Zhang Jiu Zui, meaning "Nine Sins," reflecting the burdens I carried from birth. Despite my introverted nature, inherited from my father's quiet demeanor, my grandfather took pride in my disinterest in worldly affairs, often taking me to his well-kept but humble abode filled with books on exorcism, folklore, and esoteric knowledge. I spent years immersed in these tales of demons and diviners, shaping my understanding of the world until academic pressures from high school forced me to visit less. My high school years ended in disappointment when illness ruined my chances at university exams, an event my grandfather oddly celebrated as fortunate. After deciding to retake the exams, my life took an unexpected turn when several luxury cars arrived at our village, heading straight for my grandfather's humble home. The well-dressed occupants from the cars approached with formal documents, knocking on his door with a sense of urgency and respect.
jackpoker · 3.4K Views
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