The morning light filtered through stained-glass windows of the small chapel where Hitoshi and Kael sat, cloaked in anonymity among the throng of attendees.
The Church of the Holy Flame had seen better days, and the cracks in its foundation weren't just metaphorical.
Outside, the streets buzzed with whispers of doubt and discontent, and inside, the clergy's sermons no longer carried the same unshakable authority.
The priest—a man of middling years, his face weathered by long service—stood at the pulpit, his voice wavering as he delivered the day's scripture.
His words carried fervor, but the unease beneath them betrayed the fragile state of the Church.
It was precisely this vulnerability that Aric sought to exploit.
Hitoshi leaned toward Kael, his voice a low murmur. "He's not ready for this kind of influence yet, but he'll come around. They all will."
