A/N-
Hey, I know I have been taking too much time. But, there are 72 chapters that I have to tweak and restructure. I know many readers are upset about the inconsistency, maybe some even left. For which, I apologise.
But, I am thinking of uploading some chapters, slowly, but consistently. Lets see how many readers can spot the differences. Once again, I apologise to every single reader of mine. Thanks for your patience.
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Location: Stirling, Scotland
Date: 31st October 2009
The church had stood on that hill for centuries, its weathered stone and stained glass a relic of old faiths and forgotten prayers. Tonight, beneath a heavy quilt of grey clouds, it came alive with laughter and movement.
Inside, nuns bustled through candlelit halls, their arms full of decorations, costumes, and sweet-smelling boxes. Junior priests followed suit, struggling to keep up with the pace of preparations.
It was Halloween, but for this small congregation, it was more than just a holiday. It was the day two boys who had no families were first welcomed into their fold—exactly ten years ago.
Creak.
The main door groaned open, the wind slipping in like a ghost. An elderly man stepped inside, his white cassock flaring with each step. His presence quieted the room for a moment. Despite the cold outside, his warm, weathered face brought an ease to everyone around him.
"Mrs. Dorothy," he said, voice gentle but laced with unease. "Where are Raphael and Leon?"
The old nun squinted at her phone, adjusting her glasses. "On their way," she muttered, tapping the screen. "I told them not to take the coastal road in this weather…"
Meanwhile…
Waves exploded against jagged cliffs as a motorcycle roared down a winding seaside path. Rain battered the riders like shards of glass, and the headlight beam flickered in the growing storm. Clouds churned overhead like something alive.
"Ralph! Check your phone!" Leon yelled, his voice nearly lost to the storm. His arms wrapped tightly around the gift box he'd sworn to protect—cheap wrapping paper now soggy and torn.
Raphael, soaked to the bone but focused, reached into his coat and fumbled for the buzzing device.
Crackle—
"Raphael… can you hear me? You shouldn't be on—crkkk—that road…" Mrs. Dorothy's voice bled through static.
"We'll be there in ten minutes!" he shouted into the wind, shoving the phone away. Leon leaned forward, urgency written all over his pale, shivering face.
"Speed up! We're late!"
VROOOOM.
The engine howled, tires screeching as the bike cut through the storm like a lance.
Then—
BANG!
The headlight caught something in the dark.
A flock of sheep.
They stood unmoving, their eyes gleaming like coins under moonlight. Time froze.
"SHIT!"
Leon pulled at Raphael's shoulder, but it was too late. The tires hit the slick patch. The bike twisted, swerved, and flew.
The road vanished beneath them.
All that remained was the void—and the sea below.
SPLASH!
They hit the water like dolls dropped from the heavens. Cold stole the breath from their lungs instantly. The sea dragged them down, as if it had been waiting.
"Leon! Grab my hand!"
Raphael's hand groped in the blackness, brushing against wet skin.
Water entered inside Leon's mouth, his lungs burned as salt gurgled in his mouth,
"Ralph! Where are you!?"
The waves thrashed like demons. Thunder cracked the sky open.
Then—Grab.
Raphael focused even though his eyes stung with salt. Fingers found a wrist.
"I've got you! Just—just stay with me—"
CRASH!
A monstrous wave slammed into them, hurling their bodies into jagged rock. A blinding pain. Bones cracked. Blood spilled.
Leon's voice cracked, slurred. "Ralph…?"
Darkness crept in. The boys tried to scream, bubbles rose from their face as their frantic kicks began fading.
Raphael tried to respond—
"Leon… I'm sor—"
He never finished.
Silence.
As Raphael's body drifted apart from Leon's, his mind replayed their memories. His life flashed in front of him.
'Leon, Leon, where are you? Brother, where are you?'
He gave out a gurgled breath, "Leon… Sorry."
Meanwhile, Leon slowly began falling to the ocean bed.
'Raphael! Shit! Move, move… Why isn't my body moving?!'
Somehow Leon managed to swing his arm one more time, but the crash of the waves pulled him back—not to now, but to the day Father Samuel first reached for his hand, ten years past.
10 YEARS AGO-
"What kind of excuse is this?!"
Father Samuel banged his fist on the table, the tremors spreading to the untouched glasses of water that spoke of an uncomfortable truth.
"You had the child for nine years, nine freaking years!" His words bounced off the church's walls.
Across the table sat a couple. The man wore a finely tailored Tom Ford suit complete with a tie and a Montblanc leather briefcase. His hands folded as he was in a boardroom. In his hand the needle of his Tank Louis Cartier clicked with every second passing in the room.
The lady next to him was much flashier. She wore a brown floor- length gown. A cashmere shawl wrapped around her shoulders in a graceful manner. On her lap she held a Chanel 2.55 bag, her fingers clutching the material as if even a light touch of the place could stain its quality.
Around her wrist hung a silver Cartier Ballon Bleu watch, while pearl earrings adorned her ears.
Her red lips were pursed as she sat stiffly on the wooden chair, as if even the idea of touching the wood stung her. Her sharp eyes housed something that looked like greed and evil masked behind excuses.
"Father, we truly meant well when we adopted him. But circumstances… have changed. We have a child of our own now. It wouldn't be fair, you understand."
His gaze went to an unruly young boy standing beside him. The child's clothes were a sharp contrast to his supposed parents. He wore a messy torn t-shirt that was bruised and dirty from unwashed dirt.
His features showed more bones than flesh and the scars on his forehead made father's eyes boil with rage.
"You fiends! You adopted this child years ago, promising a good upbringing and now that you have your own child, you discard him?!"
Father Samuel's eyes turned moist, his lips trembled. His arms reached for the child.
"Come here, my boy."
The emotionless boy obeyed without complaint. Father Samuel rested the child on his lap, his fingers tracing the scars of abuse the boy had endured.
His cheekbones tightened,
"You will pay for this! I will make sure to take this to the court."
But the couple sighed in response,
"Father" The lady smiled, "Please calm down yourself, all we want is for you to take back the child, is it so much of a problem? Don't you return a defective product when you buy one?"
The man, calmer, leaned forward.
"Father, you misunderstand. He isn't ours. He never felt like ours. And frankly—" the man adjusted his Cartier watch— "we don't want him muddying the future of our real son."
Samuel's mouth twisted in anguish,
"How can you say such words so—"
"Look here Father, I don't want to harm a man of religion. So," He slid an envelope towards across the table, "Let's not complicate matters. We'll make a generous donation to ease your… burden."
SLAP!
The man's eyes widened as the envelope kissed his cheek in a satisfying thwap.
"Keep your money! And never again dare to show your face here. We do not need your dirty money here!"
The man's nostrils flared,
"How dare you!"
His wife sprang up from the chair,
"Come, dear. This place is… unsuitable. We've wasted enough time here."
The man buttoned his coat gently. As he reached for his briefcase, a soft mutter escaped from his lips,
"Ungrateful parasites. You think you're entitled to judge us?"
As the couple left the room, Father Samuel rubbed his forehead, the weight of regret and anger falling on him like boulders. Nevertheless, he managed a cheerful smile at the boy.
"I am sorry my child, I never should have trusted those people. Father is sorry." his hands trembled when tracing Leon's scars, his voice cracked mid-sentence.
"I am sorry… My Lord, please bless this child. He has suffered much because of this incompetent servant of yours…. Please bless him with a happy future."
As Samuel pulled Leon in a warm hug, tears rolled down his withered cheeks. The boy didn't resist Samuel's hug, but he didn't know how to return it either.
After praying, Father Samuel gently placed the child down.
"Little boy, what is your name?" He smiled at the boy.
The boy glanced back at him, his green eyes searching for something. After a while, the child spoke,
"Leon."
Father Samuel straightened his back, tightening his grip around Leon's fragile hand. "Okay Leon, how about we eat some food?"
He ruffled the child's hair, "Our head nun, Mrs. Dorothy is a great cook."
Leon only nodded in response. "Yes."
The duo walked down the narrow corridor to a large hall filled with life and laughter. Children played and laughed everywhere while the nuns and the junior priest's fed them food. Some running after children, other feeding them in their lap.
"So, Leon," Father Samuel spoke,
"What do you like? Haggis, Pies, Puddings or are you a fan of chocolates?"
"Bread." Leon spoke softly,
"I will only eat a half loaf of bread. But sometimes," His eyes glowed with a faint warmth, "The maid sister gives me some milk, she says it's important for young boys to drink milk."
Father Samuel's brows furrowed deeply in sorrow, "My child," His words stopped.
His eyes drifted to the floor,
'My Lord, your trials are too hard for this weak servant of yours. Please grant me enough strength to look after this boy.'
His eyes closed in prayer,
'I would like to tell this boy so much, about how beautiful life is… And how I am truly sorry for entrusting him to those fiends.'
But the lump in Samuel's throat pulled back any words that his mind wanted to say. As his weary eyes scanned the room, his gaze stopped at another sight.
An unfamiliar figure sat next to Mrs. Dorothy. The boy's slim frame had tousled black hair that were pulled back in a formal fashion. Many children surrounded the little boy with curious smiles and a mountain of questions.
"Where are you from?" A boy with dark curls and a missing front tooth innocently asked.
"Cornton." The boy's green eyes blinked nonchalantly.
"How old are you?" Another girl with freckles asked with sparkling eyes.
"Ten." The reply came cold.
"Wow!" The children were awestruck. They thought it was a big feat for ten-year old like themselves to be independent, and it was.
"Mrs. Dorothy." Father Samuel walked towards the boy, "Where is this child from?"
Mrs. Dorothy's face fell, "Father, I found this child in the market, he was polishing people's shoes for money. I asked around and found out that his mother remarried and left him on the streets."
"Mrs Nun." The boy spoke, politely setting down his bowl of finished porridge, "How much for the food?"
Father Samuel's eyes widened. "Mrs. Dorothy?!"
But the nun shook her head in failed effort, "The boy was like this from the beginnings. He refuses anything free. Even when I offered him some fruit, the boy insisted on doing some work in exchange for it."
"Haha," Father Samuel, "What a mature soul."
He leaned closer to the boy, "Okay, how about you stay here with us and do one task for me?"
The boy shook his head, "Sure."
Father Samuel's kind eyes traced back to Leon,
"From now on, you are his brother. Treat this boy as your friend and brother."
The black-haired boy stared at Leon, then at the finished bowl of porridge.
"Okay."
"Good!" Father Samuel clapped his hands, "Now, introduce yourselves."
The boy shot a hand towards Leon, "What is your name?"
Leon shook his hand weakly, "Leon. What is yours?"
The boy blinked, "Raphael."
And so, two young souls wounded by the selfish tides of the adult world met each other. Not knowing what grand destiny awaited them.
Back in the water, tears slipped out of Leon's eyes. He reached an empty hand in Raphael's direction.
"I am sorry, Ralph. I failed as a brother."
But as the sea turned red the brothers only grew apart. Regrets, gratitude, sadness… all sinking to the ocean bed.
However, suddenly rays of green light spread through the water. A figure emerged out of nowhere. It had no form, no shape, just pure anonymity and a being of fog in water.
But as the fog randomly changed colours between the spectrum of light, a wide jagged smile stretched across its supposed head.
"Perfect. Candidates for the prophecy have been found."