The temple gates loomed ahead—white marble, etched with gold. Jinn stood still for a moment, unsure why her heart felt heavier than it should. This wasn't just another job. Not another guild mission. This was her mother's temple.
She stepped forward, boots soft against the polished stone.
Inside, the Grand Luminarch was already waiting.
He turned slowly, expecting someone. But when he saw her, his eyes locked on her face. Then her name. Then the documents in his hand.
"Your name is... Jinnaviera Avarielle Morvain?"
Jinn blinked. "Yes, Your Holiness. Is there a problem?"
His breath caught. He didn't speak right away.
"You," he muttered. "You're Avarielle's daughter?"
She tilted her head. "You knew my mother?"
He stared—not at her, but through her. "Avarielle Arclite. Silver-haired girl… soft voice, a strange light in her. I first saw her by the temple's outer wall. Rain poured that day, and she was crouched in the mud, trying to heal a dying cat. She was shivering, soaked through. I thought she was just a foolish girl."
He paused.
"But then, a golden light filled the air. The cat, limp and fading, stirred and stretched like nothing had happened. She smiled... like she'd just saved a kingdom. And I stood there, thinking—if only I had power like that, maybe I could've saved my own dog. Maybe I wouldn't be so cold."
His voice quieted.
"She reminded me what compassion looked like."
Jinn stayed silent, unsure what to say.
"I planned to raise her as the next Saintess. Josephine was... lacking. Arrogant. Reckless. But Avarielle—she was something else. Pure. Unshaped. I prepared her for that role."
"And yet she ran," he added bitterly. "With your father. That man stole her from us."
Jinn felt a strange twist in her chest.
("Why didn't Father ever tell me this?")
The Grand Luminarch went on. "After her, we placed our hope in Josephine again. She had charm, and the people loved her... but she abused her power. Used men like toys. Mocked the Temple's vows. We stripped her title and exiled her. Some say she's dead. Others say she fled."
He turned away for a moment.
"Then came Myuran. She never had the freedom the others had. We caged her—overprotected her—because of Avarielle's mistake, and Josephine's failure."
He turned back, calmer now.
"But you… I will never cage you."
Jinn met his eyes, surprised.
"I see her in you," he said. "And that is enough."
Later, after the formalities—registration papers, identity confirmation, magical signature—he handed her to a priest for orientation.
As she signed the last parchment, Jinn frowned, noticing a section about noble etiquette and required training.
"Your Holiness… this will take time. The guild needs me."
The Grand Luminarch looked up from the table. "We've already sent an envoy to explain your situation. This won't take a year, Jinn. Just 3 months."
"But I'm not a noble. I'm only here as an aid envoy. I serve the people—not the nobility."
"Exactly why you need this." His gaze sharpened. "Nobles will test you. One poor reaction, one common gesture—they'll mock you, not follow you. In their world, words are weapons. One careless insult can start war. Polished speech avoids battles your divine magic can't."
She hesitated.
He leaned forward. "Sincerity without control is dangerous. You won't stop being real. But you must know when to speak. When to hold back. That's leadership."
Jinn looked away. "…Is this really necessary?"
"Your presence isn't just for the temple or the guild. One day, you'll stand before nobles. That moment will be war without blades. Their eyes will judge everything—your tone, posture, how you greet them. Fail to act the part, and they'll say the Saintess is just a rude commoner in robes."
She stayed quiet.
"But with proper education," he said, "you'll be formidable. Respected. So please—endure this. It's only months. I have my hopes in you… and so does the noble who requested this training."
"A noble?" Jinn's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
The Luminarch gave a faint smile. "Can't say. Not yet. Not until you've finished."
She sighed. "Fine. I'll do your task."
As she stood and followed the waiting priest, the Luminarch watched her go.
("The noble… is someone you'll meet soon, Jinn. For some reason… she won't even show herself to care for you. But I'll fulfill the training she begged for. Duchess… where are you, exactly?")
The priest guided her through the grand halls, explaining the Temple's hierarchy and sacred duties. She followed, listening... half.
Her thoughts drifted when they entered a sealed chamber—lined with radiant statues. Gods, they were called.
Each bore an old dev tag beneath the pedestal.
Hephaestus – God of Forge.
Apollo – God of Light and Art.
Chronos – Keeper of Time.
Eclipse – God of Destruction.
...and other Gods with it.
Jinn raised a brow.
("Eclipse? Wasn't he our codename for the deletion mechanic? Guess 'deletion' didn't exist as a concept in medieval lore… yeah, destruction sounds more fitting here.")
But then she saw it.
Genesis – God of Creation and End.
Her breath caught.
("Wait… Genesis? That's... my tag. But it's not me. Not Jimmerson. Not Jinn. Then who—")
The priest continued, unaware of her silence.
At the end of the walk, he smiled politely. "That concludes the orientation, Lady Morvain. Please rest. Tomorrow's ceremony will be important."
Jinn stood by the window of her assigned room. Rain tapped lightly outside.
"Mother… I didn't know you'd been here before," she murmured.
Father once said you healed his wounds with your hands. So that's why…
"But I still want to know one thing," she whispered.
Her hand pressed to the glass.
"…Did you love cats, too?"