The cold air was filled with a sense of ancient history. His hand gently brushed the icy wall as Horner moved slowly, eventually sitting on a bench.
He felt very tired, tired as if he could sleep and never wake up again, but he knew clearly that there was still much he hadn't finished. He forced himself to lift his head, and then colorful light bathed his face.
Following the direction of that light's descent, in the warmth were colorful stained glass, depicting mythical landscapes, though covered with dust.
Saint Mary's Cathedral had few visitors now. The influence of the Evangelical Church on Ingwig was diminishing by the day. By now, even the church's name was barely remembered, referred to only by its pure white characteristic, the White Church.
Horner stared at that sunlight for a long time until the dazzling light turned his vision pale white. Uncontrollable tears flowed from his eyes. Only then did he slowly turn his head, breathing steadily and enjoying the peace.
