Location: Temple Yard, Noon
Serenya walked briskly down the marbled corridor of the inner temple yard, her ceremonial white veil fluttering lightly in the summer breeze. A soft chime echoed as acolytes bowed in passing, but she barely nodded. Her sandals clicked sharp against the stone.
Then came the letter.
A robed novice approached, bowing low. "This just arrived. From the city courier."
Serenya broke the seal.
Her eyes flicked across the lines. Jinn rejected a noble. Publicly. Boldly.
Her hand trembled.
"That... brat. After everything I've done to polish this temple's name... she dares tarnish it with peasant pride?"
She gritted her teeth, tearing the letter in half.
Her voice low, venomous: "It's not too late. If she wants to shame us... then I'll return the favor. An eye for an eye."
That night, one servant—her most loyal—received quiet orders.
"Don't tell anyone it came from me. Make it sound like whispers you picked up from pilgrims."
And so it began.
Rumor 1: Favoritism "She favors her kind. Turns nobles away. Surrounds herself with gutterfolk. Is that what saints do now?"
Rumor 2: Just Tricks "The light? Never touches others—just her hands. Hypnosis. Illusion. Some clever magework, maybe. You think miracles are that easy?"
Rumor 3: Hypocrite "She acts humble, but ignores the Luminarchs. Does as she pleases. Pure heart? More like crowned in pride."
It spread like wildfire.
In taverns, temples, and noble halls, whispers grew.
Some nobles nodded. "Of course. It made no sense."
But others—especially from slums and border towns—weren't so quick.
"Look," a man in rags pulled his tunic open, "see this scar? Was deeper than my knife. Gone after the blessing. You calling that fake?"
"I was blind!" another cried, pointing to his eyes. "Now I see. What kind of illusion does that?"
"Even if she's a mage," someone said, "healing that many? In seconds? No one's done it in history—not even the Luminarchs."
"Maybe she had help," someone else whispered.
"Then find me a team of mages who can heal thousands. I'll wait."
Despite backlash, the illusion theory began to crumble.
The arrogance claim too fell weak. To many, her quiet nature and rejection of wealth only proved her humility.
The only thing left holding weight...
...was the rejection of nobility.
Location: Temple Plaza, Festival Day
Jinn stood by the upper window, silent, robes pressed neat.
A sealed letter rested in her hand.
She read it once.
Fraud. Illusionist. Favoritist. Arrogant.
She folded it without a word.
Kaelvar stood ready near the gates.
The crowd below buzzed, thousands filling the plaza.
When she appeared, silence rippled.
Eyes turned.
Murmurs rose:
"She's the fraud." "Where's the glow?" "Just a show, maybe..."
Then a noble boy, face flushed, shouted: "Is this blessing divine... or just favoritism in robes?!"
Jinn said nothing.
She stood, thinking.
(Can't just speak. That'll only invite more noise. One wrong word, it turns to a debate.)
Kaelvar stepped forward.
Voice calm: "Favoritism is when men twist power for gain. She refused gold, and stands here still. That is divine. She blesses by merit, not title. That makes her divine."
Silence fell hard.
Jinn's eyes flicked toward him.
(You picked a hell of a time to grow a spine.)
The noble boy stepped back, ashamed.
In the temple's shadow, Revery stood stone-faced.
Serenya whispered: "This should've worked."
Eydar didn't turn. His eyes on the plaza: "She didn't speak. Yet they listened."
Kaelvar: "Let the blessing continue. Now is not the time for doubt."
Jinn stepped forward.
No glow. No light. She brought her palms together, slow and calm, the way priests do before a solemn prayer.
She spoke:
"May light guide your steps, May warmth fill your home, And may grace find you— Even when you do not seek it."
A faint arc flickered between her fingers.
"Damn it. Don't start glowing. I beg."
Whispers followed.
"That's it?" "She didn't even chant."
The crowd grew louder.
Kaelvar again: "Let her speak."
Jinn's voice cut through, quiet but firm:
"Heaven showed you signs through me. And what did you do? Criticized. Doubted. Demanded more.
Miracles are not entertainment. They are not to prove anything to those who already closed their hearts.
Faith is not seen with eyes. Only hearts can see it. And those without it—will remain blind."
She stepped down.
No bow. No fanfare. Just silence.
(Inner voice, blunt): "Lucky that line came to mind. Looks like they swallowed it." "I don't want to be a Saintess. Don't want to outshine the ones before me. I just want to go back. To the guild. To my quiet life."
Jinn sighed. "Well... thanks to my experiment, I found a way to not make the miracle happen."
In the silence...
Old priest (soft): "She's just a bridge. Not the light itself."
A mother held her healed child: "Because of that noble... the blessings stopped."
A man whispered: "Heaven offered us something. We spat on it."
Then one pointed. "That boy... he ruined it."
"Yeah. Because of him, the envoy's heart closed."
The boy turned and walked off, face red.
And silence held the temple.
But now, silence meant reverence.