Church of Thornvale stood at the quieter edge of the city, where Thornvale slowly gave up its glass towers and polished roads and allowed greenery to reclaim space again.
Silas walked beside Xavier through the church garden with a bouquet in one hand and a bottle of juice in the other.
The meadow stretched softly around them, tall grass brushing against Xavier's shoes as he wandered half a step ahead.
The old trees leaned over the path, their branches filtering the sunlight into scattered golden patches across the ground.
The cemetery rested behind the church itself.
Black iron gates rose before them, tall and elegant, twisted into patterns of vines and crosses.
The gates opened without sound.
Inside, the world became quieter.
Not silent. Just softened.
Stone pathways curved gently through rows of graves and mausoleums, disappearing beneath the shadows of cypress trees.
