Warmth, Gilbert's body was warm, he had dreamt of the fire pits in hell, a small devil poking his liver constantly, a searing puncture widening in an agonizingly slow rhythm.

Opening his eyes, he was met with wood, his eyes scanned the room, the dim candlelight outlining figures, there were manuscripts and herbs lying around, the shuffling of papers alerted him that there was someone, or something close.

Gilbert tried to stand up, a groan escaping his lips as a searing pain in his stomach kept him on the bed, he moved his head to the side, a dark towering figure approaching him slowly, violet eyes scanning him as if they were observing a prey.

"You woke up." a soft voice said, Gilbert felt a heavy hand caressing his forehead, he closed his eyes, relieving in the soothing feeling of coldness that dulled his fever. "Rest some more, Gilbert"

He nodded, about to fall asleep again, registering the words, Gilbert? Everyone in the battalion called him Beilshmidt, he had only revealed his name once, his eyes widened, realizing what was happening, he moved the hand away. "Stop with that, Ivan. I will not accept your aid."

A soft laugh escaped the other. "Think about it this way, I am healing you, there's no sin in that."

"Where do you leave the part where you use your dark magic for it? I'm a knight, I swore to never use unholy methods." Gilbert frowned, hovering his hand above his gut, with the softest touch of his own fingers a prickle of pain traveled his body, he hissed. "What am I even doing here?"

"Unholy." Ivan echoed, humming as he retreated to his desk, picking up a quill and scribbling down a page.

Gilbert sighed, clenching his hand. "Do not ignore me."

"Did you know... that I used to be a priest in my motherland?" Ivan said, moving his chair back, the wooden floor protesting the movement. "In my village, they told me that I was born with a gift and the priest took me in as his pupil, when he passed away, I took his place."

"You are such a liar, there is no way for a magician to be accepted by any church." A chuckle escaped Gilbert, though he tried to suppress it, each exhalation felt like a poke into his wound. "Don't dodge my question with your deceiving words. Why didn't you leave? You should have listened to me when I helped you escape."

"That's what I've been told since my arrival. To listen and obey. I have also been told that going after the sorcerers is the wish of god." Ivan stood up, approaching Gilbert again. "When I stumbled upon a market on my first day here, I forgot the word in your language for church, instead, I asked for the place where I could find god and speak with it, and your people told me I was crazy, that such a place was nonexistent and that I was a liar. Until now, I have not argued against any of you, because I thought you had the right to speak like that, this is your land after all."

Gilbert stayed silent, as he observed the man in front of him, the black tunic he wore making sense after his words, it wasn't a tunic, it was a cassock. He wanted to laugh at the irony, a priest being persecuted by his own church, but this was different, wasn't it? Ivan was different, and that was the reason behind his sentence.

Ivan placed his hand on Gilbert's chest, the touch was soft, warm. "Today, I have decided not to believe the words of your people but to listen to mine. In my village, people said I was invested by god's power, that it was a blessing, I could manage to help the sick and the injured because they sought my help, they said it was a miracle." He pressed his hand harder, the soothing, cold feeling from before present again. "So, I will not listen to you Gilbert, though I know you don't believe in your words, otherwise, you would have killed me as you were told."

Gilbert widened his eyes, so much for stepping up against his commander's orders, he had been accused of treason, deemed to die under another knight's sword, he should have died. Why hadn't he died? He clenched his hand around Ivan's wrist, trying to pry him off. "I saw no threat in you. I thought you weren't a sorcerer but I was obviously wrong."

"I am not a sorcerer. I am a priest and instead of bewitching you, I am going to bless you." The coldness increased, the candlelight flickered, casting shadows on Ivan's face. "I could not let them kill you, I've nodded and lowered my head to everything they've said, even when they called me a monster, blaming me for something beyond my will, but I figured, they only point at what they fear, and they fear because they know who the real monster is, they will never admit it. I did not wish to have this blessing but I do wish to help you."

Gilbert clenched his eyes, waiting for a wave of pain to hit him, for the flames of the devil to consume him, but it never came. As he opened his eyes slowly, Ivan smiled, retreating his hand. "Why did you reveal your name to me?"

"Because you are different."

"Very well." He chuckled, caressing Gilbert's cheek with his thumb. "I think there might be space for both of us in the church."

Gilbert observed as Ivan returned to his scribbling on the desk, the fever had vanished but a slight trace of warmth had settled on his face. Perhaps the idea of an eternity in hell wasn't that bad after all.

A/N: This story was made for the RusPru week 2021, with the prompts Candlelight/ touch.