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Kieran stood up from his chair with a controlled sense of urgency.

He couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was amiss. Williams' sudden decision to break off the interrogation was far from typical, and Kieran was not one to dismiss his instincts lightly.

Leaving the stifling room behind, Kieran found himself in the narrow stone corridor outside the interrogation chamber. He paused for a moment, glancing at the guards on duty, who seemed oddly impassive about the whole situation.

A decision loomed before him. Would he follow Malachai and Williams to investigate their unscheduled break, or would he take some time to collect his thoughts, far from the tension of the guardhouse? He realized he had options.

Kieran's heart yearned to confront the rogue foxes who had been causing chaos in Dawnbreak, also. This could be the moment to track them down. Yet, at the same time, there was an instinct, almost like an itch at the back of his mind, that urged him to consider the anomaly within the guardhouse.

This would take some thought.

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Kieran's footsteps echoed softly in the quiet streets as he made his way to the grand Orthodox church of Dawnbreak. Its gold spires and intricate architecture loomed above him as he approached the heavy, dark oak doors.

Though he wasn't a believer in the faith practiced here, he couldn't deny the solemn tranquility that filled the air within these hallowed walls.

Pushing open the creaking doors, Kieran entered the dimly lit sanctuary. The scent of frankincense and myrrh incense hung in the air, adding to the atmosphere of contemplation and reflection. He chose a pew near the back, away from any other worshipers, as the soft chanting of a distant choir flowed around him.

The high, arched ceiling soared above, adorned with intricate frescoes that told stories of faith, sacrifice, and devotion. Kieran had no connection to these religious tales, but the artistry and history woven into every brushstroke and stone spoke to him in a way he couldn't explain.

He sat down, letting the polished wooden pew coolly embrace him. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions, doubts and suspicions.

As he dove into deep thought there, Kieran's mind drifted like motes of dust in the dim, filtered sunlight that streamed through the colorful stained glass windows. The vibrant hues and intricate patterns depicted scenes from the Orthodox faith, as well as saints who had been martyred or done something notable; but the biggest depiction in the stained glass was none other than their God, Iesu.

Again, Kieran did not believe in this God, but whenever he looked at images of Him, he couldn’t help but be unable to hold eye contact for long. He’d never admit this to anyone, but the eyes of Iesu were intimidating, yet so full of gentle love at the same time.

The minty fox did not understand it, but he chalked it up to being a result of the incredible skills of the artist to depict Iesu and what makes up His caricature.

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The choir's voices washed over him, soothing the restlessness in his soul. He thought about Tessa, the mysterious girl, and the looming presence of the Shadow that cast darkness over Dawnbreak. With each passing moment, Kieran's determination to uncover the truth solidified.

The wooden pew, polished by the touch of countless hands over the years, bore the weight of his contemplation. Kieran believed in justice and truth, which at least for a moment unified him with these people. In this moment of respite within the church, he steeled himself for the battles ahead, both seen and unseen.

Lost in his contemplation, Kieran was unaware of the approach of the aged priest. He was a coal fox, fur as black as jet, with eyes that shone like the blue fluorite crystal necklace Kieran wore.

The cleric, clad in richly embroidered red and black vestments, glided quietly along the aisle. His steps were hushed, in harmony with the sacred silence enveloping the church.

Coming to a stop before Kieran, the priest offered a warm smile, the wrinkles on his face hinting at the wisdom borne of many seasons.

"Welcome, my kit," he spoke in a voice that resonated with years of comforting the troubled. "I see a storm in your eyes. Is there something that weighs upon your spirit?"

Kieran, drawn from his introspection, met the priest's gaze.

The soft glow of candlelight tinged with the crimson-colored glass of the votives, flickered in the priest's eyes, and for a moment, Kieran felt a connection—an understanding that surpassed the boundaries of belief.

He hesitated before replying, "I seek answers, Father, in a world of mysteries. There's a darkness that creeps over the world, and I aim to dispel it."

The priest nodded sagely. "In every age, heroes rise to confront the shadows. Perhaps, in seeking answers, you have already taken the first step towards dispelling the darkness. Tell me your story, young one, and perhaps together we can find the light that pierces the shadows."

Kieran sighed, and with gentle courage, he began to recount his story. He told the priest of how he had been born beneath a starless sky on a cold winter’s evening.

He spoke of his training as a swordsman and the lessons that had taught him loyalty and honor in combat. He glossed quickly over the tale of his mother, father, and sister, the pain their memories brought him being too much even now.

“My parents, and little sister, were killed in a fire caused by bandits,” Kieran said, his eyes almost growing somewhat dim. “Since then, I’ve dedicated my life to bringing these types of monsters to justice.”

The priest nodded solemnly as Kieran's words sunk in. "It is admirable that you have chosen such a path," he said, "but it comes with a great cost.”

Kieran nodded, “I know. I’ve seen things no man should ever have to—innocent people killed, lives destroyed for no good reason. And yet despite that…I can’t help but feel like in some way I can make it right."

The priest nodded again in understanding. "I believe that is what it truly means to be a hero," he said, his voice taking on a more solemn tone. "To know that you can never fully make things right, but to still try despite the odds."

Kieran felt a little discouraged inside upon hearing that.

“But what about the people I can't help? What of the innocent people who suffer due to my actions?” He looked away, not wanting to see the priest's reaction.

The priest smiled and gave Kieran's shoulder a final squeeze before standing up.

"Go now," he said, "and strive to be the hero you were meant to be."

Kieran stood up slowly, feeling confident in himself and his mission. He knew what he had to do—even if it was an impossible task to fully see realized.

The priest smiled. "My name is Francis," he said warmly. "Good luck on your journey, Kieran."

Father Francis, with one last reassuring smile, bid him farewell, and Kieran took this as a sign to head out and continue on his journey. He watched as the bounty hunter made his way out of the church.

Father Francis clasped his hands together and whispered a thorough prayer for the fox's success before turning back to his meditative contemplation within the quaint church.

Deep down Kieran still felt somewhat uncertain, but at least now he knew that no matter what happened, he not only had someone in his corner but also he had solid words of advice to look back on, and to keep him going—the priest's words stayed with him long after they parted ways.