Silver

In distant lands, in a place where people live in eternal peace, under the protection of holy images, there is a small town. The people there are kind and honest, and they share this goodness with others. On the outskirts of this town stands a church. Large, made of white stone and marble, with images of cupids and holy beings. In this church are clergy who are always ready to help anyone.

There was a saint in this church. He was calm as a surface of water, kind and stern, like a loving mentor. His blond hair peeked out from beneath his priestly robe, and his bright, clear eyes always looked with understanding and kindness. He read prayers and helped people atone for their sins in this church. At times, there were rumors that some saw a holy halo around his head.

But one bright day, a black darkness gathered over the church. It enveloped every corner and prevented anyone from escaping its shadow. An unknown figure in black robes slowly entered the sanctuary. His black soul was instinctively felt, kilometers before its appearance, and his black eyes stared into it. He stood in the middle of the prayer hall and loudly declared: I need the one who manages this sanctuary.