Fan Fiction ❯ Prayer - Deus e Suas Crianças ❯ Evangelo ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: This story is property of me. Mine. All mine. My characters, my plot ect. Any similarities to other's works or events are coincidence. However, if you really think our stories our identical, don't be afraid to contact me.

Warning: This story will contain the following: Homoerotic situations, scenes that may be offensive to extremely religious people, (possibly graphic) sex, (possibly gory) violence, language and other things kiddies might not want to read about. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Rating: R at the least. Hell, read the warning. *Rolls eyes*

A/N: I've spent weeks of research, writing back-story and plotting out this story. It better turn out bloody brilliant! XD I'd like to credit Xenogears and Grandia 2 for inspiring me to write a story with religious themes. Chapter One turned out longer than I realized, so I split it in two to keep it from become too lengthy. Enjoy!

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Isaac Bartholomew was thrown to the ground none too gently. He cried out in agony, certain that bones had broken on his descent from midair to the church pew. A few meters away, a small group of nuns shrieked in fear, while one of them cried out "Father!"

His attacker picked him up once again, looking him dead in the eye. "Where is the scripture?"

"Y-you can't possibly mean that script-" he began, but was cut short when the taller, stronger man twisted his arm a direction that it just wasn't supposed to go. He cried out in pain once again, as he felt the sickening crack of brittle, frail bones made frailer by age.

"Yes, father, that scripture. It's somewhere in your church, and I want it now," the man said, his darkened face barely visible under his hood. But Father Isaac could still make out a cruel smirk plastered on the man's face.

"I-I'll never tell you, you foul beast!" Father Isaac said, while trying his best to keep his composure and not let his voice lose what little authority it had left.

"Well then…maybe I should question these women? I'm sure they'll scream out the location of the scripture once I'm through…among other things. How long would you let them suffer father? Before or after I thrust into them? Before or after I force them on their knees? Let's find out, shall we?" he said wickedly. He dropped the older man to the ground, and began sauntering over to the flock of nuns.

"Wait! Wait!! I'll tell! Just-just leave them be!"

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A young man walked slowly towards the large, bustling metropolis that was Fatima City. His short, dark brown hair was shaggy and messy, and his brown eyes were weary from traveling. His clothes were tattered and torn, and he had scratches and bruises all over his tanned body.

It'll be worth it…a new sword will make things so much easier, he told himself. Evan was a wanderer, and he made his living off people who travel along the roads to Fatima City. Unfortunately, his sword had snapped in two a few days ago when he tried to take down a large beast. He wasn't sure what kind of animal it was, but it was bulky and had skin like armor. The moment he swung the sword at the creature, it broke like a toy.

He stumbled through the city's entrance - a large arch with the symbol of the Deus Falsificado engraved on both sides of the arch. Evan had always been untrusting of the symbol; something about the divided cross points and the badly illustrated rays of light around the cross' center unnerved him. It was the fact he wasn't too fond of the zealots in the Deus Falsificado sect that he didn't trust their emblem. The city was amazing though. Large stone pillars and obelisks jutted up from the ground, and carts with tops shielding product and vender from the sun and patches of flowers decorated the city streets.

The people around him were all busy doing their own things. A few children were admiring the animals for sale, even though their mother promptly told them `no' when they asked if they could purchase one. There was a girl selling roses in the street; her pink dress was dirty and dusty, and her hair was unkempt. Evan assumed she was a street urchin, or possibly even a whore. It wasn't uncommon for prostitutes to sell items to let possible customers know when and where to meet. Although Evan did find it ironic that he was in Fatima City, the Sacred City of the Deus Falsificado Clergy. He was about to laugh at it to himself when he realized how hungry and drained he was. Everything around suddenly went out of focus, and he could feel his feet give out from under him.

He fell to the ground, and it didn't seem anyone around him cared. Another irony, doesn't the clergy teach helping one's neighbor? He felt the tender grasp of darkness pulling him into slumber. He could just barely make out a face above him, an intense worried expression on it.

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`Why are you crying, my child?'

`I-I can't find my mommy…'

`Do not worry. Your mother shall see you soon enough. Let angels wings guide you back unto the Gaia, and may the divine breath of God ensure no harm come unto you, He Who Slays Fakery.'

Evan felt something with a sweet, sugary and cherry taste in his mouth, and could tell someone was making him chew. He gagged unexpectedly, and coughed the object out of his mouth.

"Thank heavens! You are awake!" a happy, male voice exclaimed. Evan sat up, rubbing his temples while his eyes fought to adjust. He could tell he wasn't in his usual attire. Someone had dressed him in light, loose fitting clothing, and made sure he was warm enough by securing blankets around the bed he was sleeping in.

"I was shopping in the market when I saw you pass out. You gave me such a scare!" the other man said. Evan looked at the young man, and realized the boy was shorter, and probably younger than himself. He had rich, chocolate brown hair that framed his face just right, and sea-blue eyes that were made even bluer by what he was wearing. He was wearing a dark-navy cloak, kept securely on him thanks to a white bow on the front of it. He wore a cotton shirt beneath it, and cross-emblems decorated the cufflinks he had on at the end of the sleeves. And finally, he had a cloth wrapped around his waist serving as a belt, just above his shorts. Evan took one look at the outfit and realized it was the uniform worn by those in the Falsificado. Never though I'd get hospitality from someone in the Falsificado.

"So you brought me here? Wait…where is `here'?" Evan asked.

"You're in the St. Ariel church. I'm a priest here, so I brought you back. You looked like you had passed out from lack of food, so I had to force-feed you. I'm also having one of the nuns tend to getting you some new clothes." The boy said, smiling.

"…Thanks." Evan said, reaching his hand out to shake the priest's hand. "My name's Evan. Evan Guardian."

"My name's Amadeo Everhart," the younger boy said, shaking Evan's hand. Evan realized how his hands were unlined, showing no mark of physical labor. He obviously had never had to work too much. Not physical work, anyway. Amadeo put a hand to Evan's forehead suddenly. "You're still running a fever. Lie down. Now." Amadeo s commanded, suddenly taking authority.

"Yes, sir." Evan replied, amused. He laid back down on the bed, and felt the weight on the mattress shift. Amadeo was up and about again, tending to things around the church. Evan closed his eyes, and felt unconsciousness creeping after him once again…

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Evan woke a few hours later, and decided to look around the church. He slowly, carefully placed one foot on the wood floor of the church. The floor felt like ice once his feet found solid footing, and he wished the good priest had given him some socks along with the fancy cotton bed pants and cotton nightshirt, but he guessed he really shouldn't complain.

He walked to the door of the med room, and stared out at the church in awe. It was a beautiful sight, no doubt, but Evan had never been moved by something so much. Moonlight broke through a large stained glass window in the ceiling depicting Deus giving light to the world, and at the center of the light was Amadeo, kneeling in prayer. Around him, statues of angels surrounded Amadeo like a protective army of ethereal beings, and infront of him, a large angel carrying a person was illuminated by the moonlight, its marble skin shining an awe-inspiring blue.

"`Messaggero di amore del Dio'" said Amadeo, referring to the statue before him, "it means `Messenger of God's Love'. I pray infront of it whenever I feel I need strength."

"Ah…" Evan said, suddenly feeling awkward. He walked over to Amadeo, and sat down on the pew behind him. He rested his chin on his hands, while his elbows dug into his thighs. Crap…I need to get a new sword. Shit! Where's my money?? Evan wondered, suddenly realizing his gold was in his discarded pair of pants.

"Do you believe in God, Mister Guardian?" Amadeo asked without lifting his head. Evan noticed that moonlight was not the only source of luminosity in the room. There were two candles to the right and left of Amadeo, and for small candles, they burned pretty bright. Their silent glow gleamed around both boys, adding more to the ethereal feeling of the room.

Evan was taken aback, to say the least. He didn't want to offend the boy by telling him he didn't, but didn't think he would appreciate a lie either…He took a moment to scratch the back of his head, and still Amadeo did not budge from his praying posture.

"Well - " but before he could continue, he was interrupted by a large exploding sound. Amadeo stood up immediately, a look of fear coming to his usually peaceful face. He quickly blew out the candles, and grabbed Evan's hand. "Hey! Where are we going?" Evan asked while Amadeo pulled him back into the med room.

"Come on! That church is here somewhere, and the scriptures too!" a voice outside the church called.

"What is going on?" Evan asked, while Amadeo put all his weight on the wooden door.

"Those, those people are from the Empire…they've been ransacking churches for months now, searching for the `Scriptures'."

"Scriptures?" Evan asked, sitting down on the plush, comfy bed. Amadeo's face was contorted in fear, and he wondered if he should be doing anything to help…

"Yes, scriptures. I-I don't quite know what the scriptures say, only Bishops and Cardinals are allowed to see them." Amadeo said, yelping as he heard someone open the church door loudly. He assumed the door was swung open so violently that it made a hole in the wall when it hit it. More tasks for tomorrow…

"Look for a Bishop or a priest! They know where the `Scriptures' are…look for a few nuns too…screwing you damn subordinates is getting boring!"

Oh God… Amadeo thought, hoping his weight was enough to keep them out. In the back of his mind he knew it wasn't, but he hoped a lot could happen with a prayer. Suddenly his prayers were answered. Evan was leaning on the door as well, putting his feet firmly on the ground for leverage. Amadeo heard something large fall to the floor and break. He knew it had to be one of the statues…he felt like crying right then and there, but he had to be strong. I'll look like such a fool infront of Mister Guardian if I cry over a statue! Wait…why do I care what he thinks? Oh never mind! Think Deo think…

"There's no one in here either, sir! There's only one room left!"

Amadeo shut his eyes, as if he were praying for divine intervention. Evan rested his head on the door, silently wondering how he got himself in this mess. Suddenly, the door started trying to budge. Luckily, the combined weight of Evan and Amadeo seemed to be enough to keep them at bay.

"Sir! Something's blocking the door!"

"God damn it…move! I'll blow the damn door down!"

Amadeo looked at the taller boy anxiously, and both of them quickly ducked behind a large Birchwood dresser. The door blew open in a hail of bullets, and immediately two soldiers decked in black cloaks and black body suits entered the room. Their commander walked in a second later. His cloak had the hood down, and he had spiky blonde hair. Other than that, his uniform was identical to his troops. The commander looked down and saw the two boys on the floor, and a wicked grin began to tug at his lips.

"Well, well, well…stand up, choir boy."

"What business do you have here, heathen!" Amadeo asked angrily, standing up and looking the man in the eye.

"Young…feisty…I may not have found any nuns, but I have a feeling you'll feel just as good, boy," the commander said sultrily, slipping his tongue out suggestively. Amadeo glared at the commander, and slapped him hard across the face. The commander rubbed his reddening cheek, while Evan looked on in amazement. Guess he's not as frail as I thought…

"`Thou shan't lie with mankind as dogs, for I will not permit such foul sins in my presence.'" Amadeo quoted flawlessly, his hands clasped together and his eyes skyward.

The commander grasped the boy by the hair, and lifted him a few inches off the ground. "Where are the `Scriptures'?" he asked, tugging painfully on Amadeo's hair. The smaller man let out a yelp of pain, kicking fruitlessly at the commander. Suddenly, Evan hopped into action. With a sweeping kick, the commander fell on his rear, his feet knocked out from under him. Amadeo fell a few seconds later, managing to catch himself on the dresser.

"You'll regret that, punk," the commander said, aiming his gun at the man. He smirked, as if he knew he had won.

"Kya!" and with that cry of battle, Evan kicked the gun out of the commander's hands and palm struck it across the room. It landed by Evan's bed with a loud clanging sound. The commander looked at his black-cloaked soldiers angrily.

"Don't just stand there! Do something!!" he ordered heatedly. His troops clicked their feet together, and saluted him. The taller, skinnier soldier pulled out a large gun from behind his back, and cocked it. The slightly shorter, chunkier soldier did the same.

"Guardian's weaponry, gotta love em', right?" said the taller soldier.

"You know it!" the shorter soldier said. He aimed the gun at Evan, and a glowing beam of light gleaming blue shot at him. He ducked quickly, as the pinpoint laser hit the wall behind him. It froze instantly.

What the fuck? He thought, looking bewildered at the frost-covered wall.

"Magi-Guns. Made by the brilliant Vesna and Razvan Guardian." The commander supplied, motioning to the arm-length sized black gun with an oddly shaped barrel.

"My turn!" the taller troop said. Electricity crackled around the barrel of the gun, and a current of lightning arced for the man. He tried to jump out of the way in time, but he couldn't escape the stream of electrical energy. He yelled in agony, and fell to his knees as static hissed around him.

Vesna…and Razvan…Guardian?

Evan's mind became foggy, and he slowly began to black out.

"No! Leave him alo - "