Requiem of the Pathways

Two years had passed since Adam first arrived at the Cathedral of St. Augustus.

In that time, he had learned what it truly meant to endure. His days were spent training until his muscles burned, memorizing scripture, and refining his combat skills. He had grown taller, both in mind and body. And through it all, he had found something else.

Friendship.

Leo, Samuel, and Daniel had become his closest companions, bound together by hardship and competition. They came from different backgrounds and philosophies, yet somehow, they had formed a unit, each filling the gaps in the others. Leo, the bratty noble who never stopped talking but always seemed to know what was happening before anyone else. He had also barely grown an inch in the past two years despite now being fourteen, which irritated him endlessly, leaving him at a measly 4'9". Samuel had lost the thick Russian accent that once marked him as an outsider. His command of Spanish and English impressed them all. He still carried the weight of his family's honor like an iron chain, but now it seemed lighter, more bearable. Daniel remained the same immovable force he had always been, a farm boy with hands like stone and a heart as steady as the earth he once tilled, except now he had more muscle to back up his stubbornness.

They were nearing the end of their training, soon to be sent on their first real mission under the supervision of a proper exorcist. But that didn't mean they were going to stay out of trouble.

The cathedral at night was a maze of flickering candlelight and whispering stone. Most exorcist trainees collapsed in their dormitories, too fatigued from the day's training to move. But for a particular group of restless boys, the night had only just begun.

"Move it, golden boy," Daniel whispered, giving Adam a not-so-gentle shove forward.

Adam shot him a glare but stepped carefully, ensuring the cold wooden floor didn't betray them. Behind them was Leo, and Samuel led the way.

"This is a terrible idea," Samuel muttered, ever the voice of reason. He had improved his Spanish and barely had an accent, though his Russian directness remained. "We'll get caught."

Leo rolled his eyes. "Not if you stop whining."

They crouched behind a pillar near the kitchen, where the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat still lingered in the air. It was cruel—being fed strict, nutritious meals designed for peak training while knowing the priests had real food hidden somewhere. Tonight, they would fix that injustice.

"Alright," Adam murmured, scanning the hallway like a strategist plotting an ambush. "Leo, check if the coast is clear."

Leo gave a mock salute before vanishing into the shadows. A few moments later, his upper half suddenly popped into the light, hands making overly dramatic signals that meant nothing.

The group stared blankly.

Daniel frowned. "What the hell is he—?"

Samuel sighed. "Leo,"

Leo smirked. "It's clear."

Visibly annoyed, they moved forward as one until Daniel stepped forward.

The wooden floor groaned beneath his weight.

Everyone froze.

A groggy voice called out from down the hall. "...Someone there?"

Panic.

Leo bolted first, slipping into the kitchen without hesitation. Samuel and Daniel followed in a scramble. Adam, always the calmest, moved in silence.

Inside, the kitchen smelled like heaven. Fresh bread, dried meats, and cheese were stacked neatly on wooden shelves. Adam grabbed a loaf while Daniel stuffed jerky into his pockets.

Then footsteps.

Adam's mind snapped into action. "Leo, hide."

Leo's eyes widened, then lit up in understanding. He scurried to the small wooden shaft used for transporting food upstairs, barely squeezing himself inside.

Samuel's face went pale. "We're dead."

Adam yanked open the pantry cabinet. "Not if we hide inside."

Samuel dived in. Daniel barely fit, cursing under his breath as Adam shut the door behind them.

A moment later, the kitchen door swung open.

Through the cracks in the cabinet, Adam saw a priest step inside, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He squinted at the shelves, brow furrowed.

"Hmph… Damn rats again…"

Adam held his breath.

The priest stood there for what felt like an eternity before sighing and shuffling back out.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Leo's head poked out from the dumbwaiter, his grin stretching ear to ear. "I want it stated for the record that I saved us."

Daniel snorted. "Shut up and take some pastries."

They ate like kings that night, huddled under their blankets in the dormitory, muffling their laughter so the others wouldn't wake.

For a few precious moments, they…they were just kids.

They sat huddled together in the dormitory, their stolen feast spread between them—cake torn apart by eager hands, jerky passed around in careful portions, and pastries hoarded like treasures. The thrill of their recent heist lingered in the air, adding a giddy, almost reckless energy to their little gathering.

Samuel sat cross-legged, chewing methodically while keeping his eyes on the door, always the cautious one. "We shouldn't make a habit of this," he muttered. "If we get caught, it won't just be extra chores. They'll ban us from real missions."

Leo scoffed, lounging on his bed with the ease of someone who had never known real consequences. "Please, they should be thanking us. We're keeping their security sharp."

Samuel let out a chuckle, finishing off the last of his bread. "Still, might want to be careful. I don't think they'd appreciate us calling this 'training.'"

Adam said nothing, simply watching the others, taking in the way they spoke and carried themselves. They were changing. The weight of their nearing initiation into real exorcist duties had begun to settle on their shoulders, subtly shifting the way they moved and thought.

Samuel had grown even more disciplined, no longer the boy who struggled with his language. His speech was smoother, his hesitation gone, though his sense of duty remained as rigid as ever. On the other hand, Daniel still treats everything as if it were a challenge to overcome.

And Leo—Leo was still Leo. Sharp-tongued, impossible to shut up, permanently in the middle of every conversation, but something else was beneath his usual arrogance. He was watching, listening, and filing away information with his mind.

Samuel broke the comfortable silence first. "We should focus more on real training," he said, wiping his hands clean on his sleeve. The instructors won't teach us everything we need. If we want to survive, how about we have to do it ourselves?"

Leo raised a brow, smirking. "Oh? Look at you, Gavril taking charge as always."

Samuel smacked him in the head as a response. "I'm serious. We'll be going on missions soon. We can't afford to rely on just what they give us."

Leo clutched the back of his head, giggles coming from us.

Daniel nodded in agreement. "He's right. Sparring's one thing, but actual combat? That's different."

Adam met Samuel's gaze. "What do you suggest?"

Samuel hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of his sleeve. Then, after a moment, he straightened. "We train more intensely, like a pre-workout before lights go on."

Leo groaned, stretching out on his bed. "You mean more work? Wonderful. Exactly what I wanted."

Daniel smirked. "You're just mad you won't be able to run your mouth the whole time."

Leo placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Daniel, please. As if I would ever let something like training get in the way of my natural charisma."

Samuel exhaled sharply, clearly unamused. "I'm being serious. Let's do a 3-mile run before we begin working tomorrow."

***

Daniel was still catching his breath when Adam squared up across from him. His brow was slick with sweat, but he grinned like he always did before a fight, like he saw no real danger.

"Same rules?" Daniel asked, rolling his shoulders.

Adam nodded.

The instructor blew the whistle.

Daniel moved, heavy-footed but fast, swinging his training sword in a powerful arc. Adam backstepped, just out of reach. He didn't try to meet the strike head-on, Daniel would overpower him in a contest of strength anyway. Instead, he waited.

Daniel swung again. Adam slipped inside his reach, catching Daniel off-balance, and struck with the sword below Daniel's ribs.

Daniel grunted, stepping back, but he didn't stop. He swung wide, forcing Adam to duck, then came in again, relentless. His fighting was a methodical rhythm of brute force, direct strikes meant to overwhelm an opponent rather than dance around them.

Adam had spent two years watching him. He knew Daniel's patterns as well as his own. And so, when Daniel overcommitted on his next swing, Adam stepped into the opening and twisted his sword against Daniel's inner elbow, just enough pressure to disarm without breaking a bone.

Adam expected him to curse or shake it off, but no. Instead, Daniel just stood there, staring at him.

A strange silence settled between them. 

Then, Daniel took a slow step forward.

Adam's grip on his sword tightened instinctively, but Daniel didn't lunge or rush; he just walked toward him, his gaze locked onto Adam's like a predator.

Abruptly, he dropped his sword.

Unlike Daniel's usual brawling instinct, the motion was so deliberate that it threw Adam off for just a fraction of a second.

And that was all Daniel needed.

A fist came crashing into Adam's jaw before he could react.

The force of the right hook sent him staggering, his vision momentarily blank as his fingers went slack. His sword slipped from his grip, clattering against the stone.

The stunned silence of the watching recruits broke into scattered laughter and low whistles.

Leo was the first to speak. "Ohhh. That was beautiful."

Samuel exhaled, rubbing his temple. "That wasn't regulation."

Daniel rolled his shoulders, shaking his hand like he'd barely felt the impact. He grinned down at Adam, offering him a hand. "You fight too clean, golden boy."

Adam, still processing the hit, before clasping Daniel's wrist. "And you fight dirty."

Daniel pulled him up with ease. "Yeah. But I won, didn't I?"

Adam didn't argue.

Because he had.

***

Long after curfew, after the cathedral had gone silent save for the distant murmurs of prayers from the night watch, Adam sat atop the chapel roof with the others, staring at the endless sky. The wind was cold, carrying the scent of wax and old parchment from the library below. The stars stretched above them, scattered like distant fires, each burning long before they were born.

Samuel was the first to break the silence. "You ever wonder where we'll be in ten years?"

Leo hummed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Well, obviously, I'll be famous—the best exorcist in history. Probably kill a thousand devils. Maybe even get my own holiday."

Daniel snorted. "More like you'll be dead in a week because you ran your mouth at the wrong person."

They all laughed.

Samuel leaned back, gazing at the sky. "I'll go home, back to Russia. My brother stayed behind. Someone has to carry the Gavril name."

Daniel exhaled. "Russia, huh? Always wanted to see snow."

Samuel smirked. "You'd freeze in a week."

Daniel grinned. "Probably."

 Samuel's expression softened as he said, "My mother used to tell me a story. About my father."

His gaze remained locked on the sky as if the memory played out in the constellations. "He was an exorcist like us. The Soviets hated the Church, but they still sent him to the front lines when devils invaded the Motherland for his head." 

Leo raised an eyebrow. "And let me guess, he fought off thousands of them single-handedly, blade shining like a beacon of light?" His tone was playful, but there was curiosity behind it.

Samuel gave a small chuckle. "Not exactly, but yes, a sea of them. The devils poured in from around him, slaughtering everything in their path. The Church was weak there, but my father never faltered." A small pause passed. " They say he stood alone in the snow, the last line of defense. "

Daniel's eyes gleamed with something between admiration and longing. "And he won?"

"He held the line, " Samuel corrected. "Long enough for it to matter, long enough for the civilians to leave on time. The civilians he saved referred to him as 'The Devilslayer of the Tundra'. "

Leo, of course, was the first to break the silence. "So why did they come specifically for him?"

Samuel replied, "For his Sacred Gear, it was a powerful one, but it doesn't matter anymore. It's the only of its kind. It is the only one where the wielder can choose its next host at the moment of their death."

Daniel leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. "Sounds like an amazing person, like a true hero."

Adam listened but said nothing out loud inwardly though he respected that man. 

Leo turned to him. "And you? What's your dream?"

Adam hesitated.

What did he want?

For years, the answer had been simple, serve the Church, serve the Lord. But now, staring at the sky, surrounded by the only people he called friends, something in him wavered.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.

Leo nudged him. "Well, whatever it is, just don't become boring, alright?"

Adam smirked. "No promises."

They stayed there until their bodies ached from the cold, whispering about the future, about dreams and ridiculous fantasies, about things they never said in the daylight.

And so, as the stars burned overhead, Adam whispered a quiet prayer.

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."

Proverbs 27:17.