>>Enya

What did he say?

I didn't catch that. It was like he was talking to himself, then staring at the falling snow with those empty eyes

"It doesn't matter," He looked at me again,

"Why?"

"What do you plan on doing about the miasma?" I pointed at the sky, "The world will fall."

"We still have the shielded cities." I replied.

He looked at me as if I was some sort of a clown, "You really think the cities won't fall?"

!!?

"What are you saying...?"

"The only person that can actually do something about our world failing is the saint." He folded his arms

"But the Saint is dead..."

"Exactly, He sighed as he looked away, "And in case you haven't realized, there is something else in the miasma." He looked to his right, towards the distant forest outside the city, "Something far bigger. Something only a real saint could have handled."

What is he talking about?

"Ummm," A meek shivering voice made its way to us and both of us turned around to look at a girl about my age. Dark purple hair and deep purple eyes.

She looked like a commoner

I stared at her clothes

Or maybe even below that.

"I'm sorry," I had no time to deal with another person, "But can you leave, we're having an important conversation."

Hael just turned around to leave.

"Hael!" I yelled, "Please! We can do something!"

He started summoning his teleportation circle, "No," He turned his face around to glare at me, "We can not. The fake saint couldn't do anything, how can we?"

"Um," The meek girl raised her hand, "I'm the real saint,"

Hael's magic stopped right there as both of our eyes went wide.

We both looked at her again, "What did you say?" I asked her

"I-I'm the real saint," She clutched her hands together and began to fidget with her thumbs. Her voice was meek, just like her looks.

We both stared at her but she couldn't look back straight into our eyes. Her actions looked suspicious. I doubt anyone would believe her words.

"Prove it," Hael's voice was stern

"Ah-yes!" She was timid. No one would ever believe she was the saint. I looked at the rags she was wearing. The saint is meant to be a holy symbol.

She must be from a poor background. Is she really a saint?

The girl swallowed hard, her eyes flicking nervously between Hael and me. Her hands, trembling slightly, moved out from where they had been clutching the fabric of her tattered clothes. She extended one palm forward, as if gathering her courage, and I could feel a faint shift in the air—something subtle but unmistakably holy.

A soft, golden glow began to form above her hand. It was weak at first, barely a flicker, but it grew slowly, like a candle's flame struggling against a gust of wind. The light was different from any magic I had seen before. It wasn't the bold, commanding radiance of those we had read about for saints. This was gentler, purer, almost hesitant in its appearance, like the girl herself.

Hael watched her intently, his expression unreadable.

The golden light coalesced into a delicate orb. It wasn't overwhelming or boastful—it was quiet, humble, but undeniably real. The faint glow danced in her palm.

"Direct it towards me," Hael ordered, his voice low but commanding, eyes narrowing slightly.

The girl hesitated for a heartbeat, her lip trembling, before she extended her arm towards Hael. She flicked her fingers slightly, and the orb of holy light floated forward, moving slowly through the air toward him.

When it reached Hael, it dissolved against his chest—not with a flash, but with a soft, calming warmth, like sunlight breaking through after a storm.

...

He was surprised but didn't say anything

"Well?" I asked

He nodded, "It is Holy Power," Hel recognized it immediately.

There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes for a second, it even looked like he was happy there but then his expressions went lifeless again, "Considering you've appeared now. I'd say you awakened not too long ago.'

"Yes..." She replied, "After Saint Illaris died."

"And you don't know how to use your powers?" Hael asked a question but it looked like he already knew the answer, he just wanted to confirm it.

"Not...really..." She fiddled with her fingers as she looked down.

The circle appeared under Hael again, "Going back won't make a difference." And he flashed out of there.

...

Was he disappointed?

I turned to look at the girl.

"You," I called her out with a frown, "What's your name?"

"Rosie..."

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the temple?" I walked towards her and she flinched

"Ah... Um, yes but they didn't want me..." She didn't look straight at me.

***

>>Rosie (Three Hours Ago)

The temple gates loomed ahead, their imposing height casting long shadows across the cobblestone path. I had never felt so small standing there, staring at the place I thought would hold the answers I needed, the place I had been dreaming of since I first felt my powers awaken.

My heart thudded in my chest, each beat reminding me of why I had come. I'd practiced this moment in my mind a thousand times, rehearsing my words, trying to imagine how I would explain myself.

But now, standing here, I felt a wave of uncertainty wash over me. I clenched my fists at my sides, feeling the rough fabric of my threadbare dress crumple beneath my fingers. I could already sense their eyes on me—the guards at the gate, their expressions unreadable behind the gleam of their armor. My throat felt tight, and I swallowed hard, taking a shaky step forward.

"I need to speak to someone from the temple," I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. "I've unlocked my powers. Please, I think it's important."

The guards exchanged a look, their lips curling in disgust as they took me in from head to toe. I shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, feeling the dirt caked on my skin, the tears in my dress, the hollow ache in my stomach from days of barely eating.

I wished I didn't look so weak,

So pitiful.

I wished I could have come here looking stronger, more... worthy.

"Your powers?" One of the guards sneered, his voice thick with disbelief. "You? Are you joking?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. My tongue felt heavy, my mouth dry. I didn't know what to say. The second guard stepped forward, eyeing me with clear contempt.

"You really think the temple's going to waste their time with someone like you?" He asked, his voice dripping with mockery. "Look at yourself. You're nothing but filth."

The word filth struck me like a physical blow. I felt my face flush, shame crawling up my neck. I looked down at the ground, unable to meet their eyes. But I couldn't leave. Not now. I had come too far, spent too long believing that this was the place where I would finally be seen, where someone would listen.

I had to try.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I just need to talk to someone. I can prove it. I—"

Before I could finish, the heavy wooden doors of the temple creaked open. My heart skipped a beat as a priest emerged, his flowing white robes a stark contrast to the dirt-streaked rags I wore.

For a fleeting moment, I felt a flicker of hope.

Maybe he would listen.

Maybe he would see something in me that the guards hadn't.

But as soon as his gaze fell on me, I knew I was wrong.

He stood at the top of the steps, looking down at me like I was less than nothing. His expression was cold, almost bored, as though my very presence was an inconvenience. He didn't speak at first, just watched as the guards continued to laugh at me, their jeers ringing in my ears.

"What's all this noise?" The priest finally asked, his voice deep and authoritative.

"This one claims she's unlocked some kind of powers," One of the guards said with a sneer. "Thinks the temple should care."

The priest raised an eyebrow, his gaze raking over me once more.

I felt exposed, like every flaw, every ounce of dirt, was magnified under his scrutiny. I wanted to disappear, to melt into the ground beneath my feet.

"And you believed her?" The priest asked the guard, his tone laced with sarcasm, "How many people have come here claiming the same thing? Why are you still entertaining these peasants?"

The guards chuckled, "Absolutely not sir, we were just sending her away." And I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. I could feel my hands shaking at my sides, the knot in my stomach tightening with every passing second.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This wasn't how it was supposed to feel.

"I can prove it," I said, more to myself than anyone else. "Please, just let me—"

Before I could finish, the priest scoffed, cutting me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "We don't have time for the delusions of beggars."

I felt something snap inside me, but before I could say anything, the priest's hand moved, and something hard and stale hit the side of my head. My vision blurred for a second as the shock registered. I blinked, stunned, as a piece of crusty bread fell to the ground beside me.

Laughter erupted from the guards, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet street. My hand instinctively flew to the side of my head, touching the spot where the bread had struck me. It stung, but the pain was nothing compared to the humiliation that washed over me like a tidal wave.

"Take it as charity, everyone knows why you're really here." The priest said with a cruel smirk. "Now get lost."

His words twisted in my chest, a deep, agonizing wound I hadn't expected.

I stood there, frozen in place, my mind racing, trying to understand how everything had gone so wrong. I had come here hoping for acceptance, for someone to see me as more than just the girl covered in dust and grime. But all they saw was my poverty, my insignificance. And now I was nothing but a joke to them.

"Don't come back here," one of the guards spat, his voice sharp with disdain. "The temple doesn't need more scum like you hanging around."

I felt my chest tighten, the air around me growing colder. My legs trembled, and before I knew it, I was running. My feet pounded against the cobblestones as I fled, my vision blurred with tears I couldn't stop. The guards' laughter still rang in my ears, the priest's cruel words cutting deep

My breaths came in ragged gasps as I turned down a narrow alleyway, collapsing against the cold stone wall. I sank to the ground, my knees scraping against the rough surface. I curled into myself, wrapping my arms around my chest as the sobs finally broke free.

It was cold, snow had piled up in many places.

I had been so stupid. So foolish to think they would care. I had spent so long imagining that the temple would be different, that they would see beyond my ragged appearance, beyond the dirt and the hunger.

But in the end, they had looked at me the same way everyone else did—with contempt, with disgust.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

"I really just wanted to help..." I whispered, as I pulled my knees closer to my chest, burying my face in my hands. I didn't know how long I sat there, shaking with the force of my sobs.

I felt hollow, like something inside me had shattered. The hope I'd carried with me was gone, replaced by a deep, aching emptiness.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, my fingers trembling. I couldn't go back to the temple. I couldn't face them again. I didn't belong there.

I didn't belong anywhere.