When the morning sun peeked over the other buildings in Death City, the light shone through several stained glass windows which lined the west side of the cloister. Pictures depicted gnarled crosses reaching skyward from vast fields of sand. The dyes were colors in yellows and blues of various saturation, the swirly patterns were overwhelming to the sense of sight but still quite majestic.
The ward of the cathedral, Justin Law, found himself mesmerized by the manner that glass shaped sunlight into such delightful colors. He stood out in the nave of the cathedral, his eyes followed one set of patterning. That young mind of his hazy after waking up from a deep sleep, his sandals shuffled against the floor as he walked alongside those inviting colors of light cast upon the ground.
He reached the end of the light cast by those stain glass windows. Those wide eyes gazed on into the darkness… there was a casket at the end of the nave, kept company by two pillar candles that burned throughout the night. It was from a wake which took place the evening before, the body itself awaiting burial to take place later in the day. Yet, along with those two lights, there was a third—a larger, flickering light in that same shade of blue as what was cast by those stained glass windows.
Curiously, Justin wandered closer to the light which hovered above the casket. He ignored the gruesome truth that a body lay within while he leaned his body against the wood of that casket, the reflection of that light shining against that polished finish. His arms folded upon the lid while both eyes fixed on that light. A tingle of saliva grew in his mouth, and within the depths of his mind he could hear a voice.
"Go ahead, take it. Claim it as your own. Devour it. You found it first anyway. Finders, keepers!"
Justin bit down upon his lower lip briefly before heeding the voice's word. Raising himself to the tips of his toes, he reached out for this ethereal light. The sensation was warm as the tips of his fingers moved closer. A droplet of saliva fell past his lips and onto the casket below.
Before Justin could crawl up onto the casket to take the light within his possession, someone from behind him took hold of the youngster's wrist. Justin screamed out, interrupted from the dreamy trance those lights lead him into. Trembling from the sudden scare, he looked back to see who took his wrist in such an manner.
It was one of the younger monks. Despite being younger, he was approaching the age of thirty by a few years. He still held the disposition of a youthful man; however, perhaps enhanced by the pious lifestyle he led. The monk let go of Justin's wrist to waggle his index finger as he admonished the boy's actions, "You shouldn't allow yourself to become so easily tempted!"
A few tears welled up within the corners of Justin's eyes. Perhaps from being told off in such a manner, or from the strong myrrh incense which billowed out from within the censer that monk held within his other hand. He was shocked: as the strong scent approaching hadn't lulled him out of that trance. The youngster didn't say one thing to the monk as an explanation of his actions, he only stepped aside before running down the length of that nave: heading for the doors which lead outside.
The monk didn't follow him. The casket needed to be prepared for the burial, and he was sure the Justin heeded his strong words of caution. Yet, it was interesting: this young ward from the desert, a Weapon as well?