As much as he wanted to wallow in his misery, Verus knew he couldn’t stay strewn across the stairs in front of the devotary. Eventually someone like a guard would come over to check and see if he was okay and get him out of other people’s way. He was already getting looks from citizens walking by.

Picking himself up off the stairs, Verus glanced up at the devotary before him. It was quite similar looking to all the other devotaries he’d seen, but still impressive looking in a solemn way. Its white marble façade supported a tall steepled roof and long rows of stained glass windows, and the golden symbol of the Archon’s eye hung above the door, sternly staring at everyone who approached. Looking at it made him feel slightly better since it was familiar and reassuring. Maybe he’d get his answers here after all.

Verus stepped inside the building. Thankfully, there were only a few scattered people praying among the pews and none of them were looking his way. His dark mood quickly began to lighten in the reverent quiet of the devotary. If he found somewhere out of the way to pray, it would probably go away completely eventually, but he was here to talk to a Lightbringer.

It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, because one came to him. An older man with a shaved head and the traditional white and gold robe of his office crossed the room to speak to him. He had a short well-groomed grey beard and blue eyes that gave him a friendly, approachable appearance.

“I couldn’t help but sense that your spirit is weary and troubled. I am Minister Harshworth. Welcome to my sanctuary,” the Lightbringer said as he stopped in front of Verus. His spirit was radiating a calming aura that Verus immediately recognized as devotion ki. That was to be expected though, he was a Lightbringer.

Verus bowed briefly in respect. “Yes, minister. Thank you for your time. I… wish to talk.”

“That is what I’m here for. Please, tell me of your burdens. I will listen without judgement, for that belongs to God and the Archon, and I am but a servant.”

Relieved, the young disciple then introduced himself and began to tell the Lightbringer the general outline of his situation and about how his friend had died. Letting it all out made him feel better, but far from fixed. He still felt miserable and sick.

Minister Harshworth nodded as Verus finished his tale. There was an understanding and emphatic look on his face, which was emphasized by the subtle kind wrinkles below his eyes. “I see. You feel both guilty and angry about your sect brother’s death. That’s very understandable, young man. You’ve been put through a lot and the empire has asked much of you.”

“It’s just… why did he die?” Verus found himself asking.

“You will probably never know the true reason, for the heavens are vaster than we can comprehend. Fate can seem cruel, but in my experience, that is rarely the truth. You simply have to accept that he is gone from the material plane and that his soul has moved on to join the Archon. His suffering has ended, and he now knows only truth. You are the one that must struggle through your pain, for that is the nature of life, especially for young cultivators such as yourself. We must overcome our base nature to reach enlightenment.”

This answer didn’t really satisfy Verus. He’d been taught similar things all his life, and he could see what the priest was getting at, but he wanted more.

“What of the Great Wind Sect? I don’t understand how they could just throw my friend’s life away. No one bothered protecting him, and no one cares that he has died but me. I thought the sect would be full of people seeking enlightenment and fighting for humanity, but everyone seems far more concerned with power for its own sake. Is that not a form of surrender to temptation? Have they not been led astray?”

The Lightbringer sighed deeply. “You are young and optimistic. That’s not a bad thing, but not everything is as it appears to your half-closed eyes. Comprehending the nature of the world is beyond you at the moment. It may be painful to hear this, but you should concentrate on your own path. Seek enlightenment. Only when you have risen much higher can you hope to understand how the powerful operate and why they do as they do.”

Verus frowned. “But what if the sect is leading me and others astray?”

“There are very good reasons that the sect and the empire seek power the way they do. It is our holy charge from the Archon himself. For power and understanding are necessary to change the material plane for the better and alleviate the suffering of mankind. What is ki but power? There is no other way. You must trust your elders in this.”

A confused mix of potent emotions warred within Verus. He wanted to trust his elders, but they weren’t giving him the answers he needed. His friend was dead! He was owed an answer. Feeling frustrated, Verus cycled his ki to perform the Faithful Soul Ward. This repulsed the Lightbringer’s aura of devotion, which had been dampening his feelings. As his anger built, Verus couldn’t help but recall how Fang had said that the Lightbringers were used to control people and make them into tools. Maybe there was something to that after all.

“I can see that I haven’t convinced you yet,” the minister observed with a sad smile. “You are young for a cultivator and passionate. You lack the perspective that the centuries will bring and are quick to judgement. Meditate on how you feel and seek to recognize how pride is misleading you. Remember, there are endless worlds under the heavens and countless humans living upon them. You have the privilege to see only that which is in front of you, but the empire has to do its best for all of them.”

“You’ve given me much to think about,” Verus said politely as he struggled to look calm.

“Then I shall leave you to your reflections and prayers, but I’ll be here if you have more questions,” the Lightbringer replied with an understanding look before walking away.

Verus was left there at the edge of the pews. He already had more questions, but he doubted any Lightbringer could answer them. Grief and anger filled him as he looked up at the decorations and art that filled the devotary. Everything was done in white marble and gilded with gold, displaying the wealth and power of the empire as well as the majesty of its faith. The raised statue of the Archon against the back wall dominated the room. Upon his throne, he gazed out at his supplicants with an imperious and wise expression.

As usual, the statue struck Verus as odd for reasons he couldn’t explain, like it wasn’t quite right. Disturbed as he was, the feeling was stronger now than ever before. Staring at the statue only made Verus feel worse, so he turned to study the stained glass windows instead. The light from outside caused the many colored and beautiful glass to glow warmly. They were full of scenes from the holy books and the life of the saints, and Verus recognized most of them. They were tales he’d heard many times during childhood sermons, such as how Saint Ishorn had given his life to convert an entire world to the true faith.

In his youth, those stories had calmed and inspired Verus, even if he’d his doubts about their accuracy. Now, he failed to find any solace whatsoever in them. They were hollow stories.

Verus’s eyes stopped on one particular scene that featured a man with pale white skin, a spiky golden halo above his head, and a long red robe. His long black hair fell down to his shoulders, partly concealing his beautiful face, as he held out a golden sword from which blood was dripping. Before him, several warriors were kneeling in supplication. This was one of the more famous figures, Sanguine, blessed saint of blood and law.

Immediately, Verus anger grew stronger as he stared at the saint’s face. None of the saints had descended from heaven to save his friend. So, what good were they?

The Warrior rose in response to his feelings, amplifying them. It buzzed in his ears, filling him with a desire to spring into action and lash out. Disgust and intense hatred seized Verus’s heart without warning, causing him to stumble back from the intensity of it.

However, Verus was an ascetic. He did not give in to such impulses. Instead, he instantly pushed back against the emotion, stifling it. Long training had taught him to resist temptation in all its forms.

Up ahead, Minister Harshworth turned around and frowned in Verus’s direction, as if sensing something wrong. Verus meet his gaze and smiled politely, so the man nodded and looked way. That done, Verus quickly headed for the devotary’s exit. The furious hatred had yet to disperse, he was only supressing it, and it was possible the Lightbringer would notice. The feeling was so strong that despite Verus’s training and discipline, he wanted to claw at his skin and drive his fist right through all the stained windows.

Verus took a deep breath as he stepped outside. “At least my anxiety is gone.”

He was too angry to be depressed or care what others thought. Verus had no idea where all that anger had come from though. Was it just because the devotary hadn’t given him the answers he wanted or assuaged his guilty conscience? He wasn’t sure. Thankfully, now that he was outside, his anger had died down to a simmering heat that he could control.

Was he really so angry at the sect and the empire? Maybe he was. They were largely responsible for Warin’s death, and yet he’d been told to trust them and not question their wisdom. That wasn’t going to happen. How could he just accept that his friend’s death was for the greater good and that the elders were acting in everyone’s benefit? Impossible. Verus couldn’t believe that. Almost every elder he’d met had been a cold and indifferent jerk. He couldn’t trust them. Images of Highcloud and Igni’s faces as they fought flashed through Verus’s mind as well. Even most of the disciples of the sect were the same. They appeared to care for no one but themselves.

Aching inside, Verus walked down the devotary steps and out into the street. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he couldn’t stay here, and he couldn’t go back and face the sect yet. Not without deciding on what he was going to do. He couldn’t go on pretending things were the same as before. They weren’t.

Maybe he’d just walk around the city for a while until he cooled down. Logically, he should be trying to find the drunk elder that had promised him a cultivation technique, but after everything that had happened, the idea of begging a sect elder for scraps filled him with revulsion. Also, going back to the temple would be like admitting that he’d never see Warin again. His friend’s room would be empty, and the entire place would be dreadfully hollow without his presence. Really, Warin’s cheerful support was the only thing that had made the sect bearable. Verus fought back a sob. Going back now would mean his friend’s death had meant nothing and had changed nothing.

The crowds that filled the street quickly pressed in on Verus. He ignored them and just kept walking in a random direction with his head down as he blinked back tears. Maybe living the life of a common mortal wouldn’t be so terrible. At least they were protected and could live simple lives. Under the endless heavens, did anyone ever really accomplish anything anyway? Was the enlightenment worth the pain?

Momentarily lost, Verus glanced up to check his surroundings. His eyes scanned the crowd and the nearby shops, passing them over without looking them over, but then something caught his attention. His gaze stopped on a figure standing in the middle of the road. At first, Verus was unsure of why this plain man had caught his attention, but then his mind began noticing oddities. The crowds were flowing around the man without looking at him. No one came within several feet of the man, but no one paid him any attention either. Their gazes slid over him like oil over steel.

The hair on the back of Verus’s neck rose as he realized something was very wrong. He felt danger closing in. He couldn’t describe the figure. None of his features stood out. They were all utterly normal. In fact, they didn’t exist.

Verus took a step back as the figure turned to look at him. It had no eyes, just a wide smile. The grin was the only part of the thing that seemed real. The rest of its body was a blank slate that reflected the beholder's expectations back at them, ever shifting and illusionary. Yet, despite the hundreds of people around, no one noticed the inhuman thing among them. It had to be a dangerous spirit of some kind. How was this possible? The capital city had extremely strong wards. Should he get the guards?

Suddenly, the figure began walking straight toward Verus, and as the crowds flowed out of the way to open a pathway between them, panic overcame Verus. His heart started beating madly in his chest. He instinctively knew that this wasn’t something he could fight. It had an intense depth that made even the demon seem like nothing. It was a hole into eternity through which worlds could vanish. Even worse was the smile, it was a gleeful promise of destruction that made the spirit’s intent clear.

Spinning around, Verus ran for it. Without really looking to see where he was going, he dove into the crowd and dashed madly away. Behind him, he heard a loud inhuman laugh filled with dark amusement. The sound easily suppressed the noise of the crowd, but no one else seemed to hear it. The spirit was laughing at him! Verus shuddered in dread as he cycled his ki to pick up speed. The need to flee overwhelmed his every other thought.