Ivan had started working at the church after graduating from school.
Whether day or night, the church's stained-glass windows gave off a gentle glow. Beneath the immense radiance and the statues of the gods, golden flecks that carried the scent of wheat lingered amid the prayers, and the magnificent hall seemed untouched by darkness.
But that wasn't how it looked to Ivan.
As far back as he could remember, the world had always seemed dim to him, as if he were looking at it through a gloomy filter that could never be washed away.
There was no light on people's faces, only shadows of varying shades. Their clothes were drab, and even the candles on the altar were just a small, flickering, dim-yellow glow in his eyes, unable to drive away the surrounding gloom.
Gradually, he learned to tell people apart by the depth of their shadows. Those with lighter shadows were probably "good" people; those whose shadows were so thick they seemed ready to drip ink were best treated with caution.
Why was that?
Ivan didn't know.
At first, he'd secretly asked his mother. She'd been horrified by what he told her, scolded him for being a monster, and that very night had thrown him out of the new home she'd moved into after marrying a strange man. She sent him to a church-run children's welfare institution. Just before leaving, she'd hesitated, crouched down, and told him never to mention the problem with his eyes to anyone.
That was probably one of the few lessons she'd given him from a mother's point of view.
Of course, she might also have been afraid that if Ivan's abnormality came to light, it would implicate her, his biological mother.
For a while, Ivan had been heartbroken. Was he really a monster? Like