The smile faded from Silas's face when Aris's did the same. It didn't take a genius to realise that something struck her mind. He turned his head to where Aris was facing, his mind expecting some sort of peeling plaster on the walls.<br/><br/>"Just a fresco of Judas's betrayal of Jesus," he muttered to himself.<br/><br/>When his eyes could pluck out nothing, Silas looked back at Aris.<br/><br/>"Is there something wrong?"<br/><br/>"Who's this?" Silas yelped as he heard a voice from behind him. Jerking his head around, he saw the chest of a man wearing black priestly robes.<br/><br/>"Dad?" gasped Silas.<br/><br/>Father Alexander Jerusalem was a man in his early thirties, some graduate of theology from Harvard who came back to his hometown to become a priest after he completed his studies. A man with a last name like his would find the life of a priest quite fitting, but it would never occur to Silas that although Father Alexander would talk to him about religion and the Bible, he was, in Adell's words, like a 'Modernist' in the Church of England. He had long brown hair that reached his shoulders, and a face untouched by age and a smile that could melt the hearts of maidens. He revitalised the Innocent Baptist Church after he arrived, though it was strange to Silas that most of the new parishioners were girls who spent all their time staring dreamily at the father.<br/><br/>With a little graceful smile, Father Alexander nodded at Silas and looked at Aris. "Oh my, a new friend?" He reached out to grasp her hand gently.<br/><br/>"My name is Father Alexander. I'm Silas's father. Adoptive. How do you do?"