when: late evening, 7th of the 10th month where: the sanctum closed to: @achillesgrieves
"Beautiful, isn’t it?” Francis asks, their voice echoing along the hall of the Sanctum. It is empty, save for them and Saif. Francis has appeared alongside him as if out of thin air, their eyes lifted heaven-toward to take in the enormous image on the stained-glass windows. A beautiful sight, indeed. The story of Nadab and Abihu unfolds before them, covering one of the Sanctum’s four walls, beginning blue in hue and ending in fiery red, with the brothers’ demise.
Francis follows Saif’s line of sight. They stare a little absently at it, though the smile on their face is fond and true. It is, as unsettling as it may be, one of their favorite tales of Undeath.
“Haunting,” they add after a moment, a watchful eye in Saif’s direction, “but beautiful all the same.” Whether it’s to say something of value or to simply fill the silence, it’s hard to say. Not even Francis can put a finger on it, but they turn to face Saif fully, the light filtering red over their bodies.
“Are you familiar with it?”