For fifteen years, Neil had danced with shadows,vaulted rooftops, picked nobleman pockets, plucked holy relics straight from temple vaults. They called him The Phantom, a ghost-thief who had never been seen, never been caught.
So why—why now?
Blood soaked the fabric of his tunic as he staggered back against the alley wall. His hands trembled, not from pain, but disbelief.
"This is ridiculous.." he wheezed, sliding to the ground. "Fifteen years…"
A figure loomed over him,faceless in the shadows, blade dripping red. Neil couldn't even make out their voice, just the low hum of breath and the glint of cold steel.
"I didn't even steal anything today.." Neil muttered, incredulous.
The figure raised the sword once more.
Neil laughed. He actually laughed. "You've gotta be kidding me."
There were so many things he'd never done. Never kissed anyone he didn't intend to rob. Never had a bed that didn't creak. Never saw the ocean. Never asked for forgiveness.
Maybe that last one mattered.
As the blade plunged down, Neil closed his eyesnand smiled.
Maybe this is karma.
There was no tunnel of light.
No gentle chorus of angels or waiting family.
Just—
"Next."
Neil blinked.
He stood before a massive rotating wheel, floating in an endless sea of stars. Ethereal figures lined up behind him, murmuring in languages that made his teeth itch.
A bored-looking clerk held a massive ledger, yawning.
"Name?"
"…Neilos?"
The clerk squinted at him. "Mhm, a theft I see, you really did lead a shitty life didn't you. You're eligible for cleansing or reassignment. You even get to choose"
"Reassignment sounds... nicer?"
The clerk shrugged, reached into a glowing basket, and tossed a glowing orb into the spinning wheel.
Click.
Click.
Click—CLACK.
A loud bell rang. The wheel flashed violently.
"Oh.." said the clerk, adjusting his spectacles. "Congratulations. You've landed the Saint slot. That's rare. Hasn't been claimed in—oh, 27 years."
Neil blinked. "I'm sorry, the what?"
"Please proceed through the blessed gate. Oh and Neil, try to make the most of this place, show kindness to those who show you, don't repay evil for evil, lead a good and fufilling life and do all the things you couldnt do in your previous. Goodbye."
Before he could protest, a wind slammed into his back and hurled him forward.
He stepped into a blinding white corridor.
The air was thick with something ancient. It shimmered around him like water, memories, lives, sensations. They bled into him.
A sensation pulled at his chest, guiding him forward.
At the end of the hall was a door, carved with gold and shaped like an open hand. Beyond it, a faint glow and a person.
A boy, about his age, maybe younger, with long blond hair, pale lashes, and the kind of delicate features that could end wars or start them.
He looked up at Neil with tired eyes, resting against the wall like he was expecting someone.
"…You're late."
Neil stared. "You were waiting for me?"
The boy smiled. "I was the previous Saint. But I died, so technically, it's open season. I'm here to pass some advice before I go."
Neil nodded, if he was going to take this room he might as well know the pros and cons.
"Very well."
The boy smiled, he looked like he had a lot to say but not enough time.
"First of all. Never believe the church, second put yourself first, no one cares about you, third and most important...saints don't belong to anyone, don't let anyone deceive you. You're most powerful on your own terms."
Neil nodded, he figured there would be some power play. "I understand.."
The boy smiled and nodded, patting Neil on the shoulder. "I'm rooting for you Neil. Oh and your most trusted person is your assigned bodyguard, they're a loyal bunch so treat him well... let's not keep breaking their hearts.."
-_-
What's that supposed to mean?!
And then the boy faded, disintegrated like sand.
Neil lunged forward. "WAIT—" he wanted to ask when he meant by breaking their hearts.
"Stop wasting time Neilos, or you'll be sent to the underworld as punishment."
The ground swirled, Neil let out a yelp as he fell.
When he felt as though he was about to eat the ground.
He opened his eyes.
Pwha!
He took a deep breath as he looked around. The place was too bright for his liking.
A cool breeze brushed against his bare shoulders. Cloth rustled as he sat up, blinking into the light.
Crack!
The sound of ceramics breaking brought Neil's attention to the door.
He saw the maid, frantically keeping up the pieces like she'd be punished for making a mess.
Maybe.
"Be careful not to cut yourself. Rushing might lead to an accident.."
The girl froze, slowly looking up. Neil smiled, waving at her.
She quickly knelt down, bowing, completely discarding the cuts she was getting from the pieces of ceramics. "My lord!"
Is she nuts?!
"That isn't necessary, I wouldn't want you getting hurt in the name of respect. Can you get me whosoever's in charge?"
The girl nodded, she quickly gathered the pieces and left.
He got up and walked to the mirror, catching side of his reflection.
The man staring back at him had luminous silver hair that fell to his waist in silken waves. His eyes were vivid blue, too bright to be human.
A golden mark like a burning leaf glowed on the side of his chest.
His face was—
"Oh. Oh no. I'm gorgeous."
Neil touched his cheeks in horror. "I look like the kind of person I used to rob."
Neil smiled, this was fucking amazing.
Footsteps echoed down the marble hallway.
A heavy door creaked open as a trio entered: an elderly man in pristine robes with gold embroidery, two younger priests flanking him in silence, and a man in stately armor, short cloak, keys at his belt. Clearly, the castellan.
Neil turned away from the mirror just in time.
The old man stepped forward, arms stretched wide as if greeting a long-lost heir. "My lord Saint.." he said, voice trembling with reverence, "praise the gods, you've returned to us."
Neil blinked. "Have I?"