When the world falls into darkness and the people are left with nothing but rage and bitterness. Where do they turn? When the world enters a dark age. Who brings the light?

Who do you ask for forgiveness, for absolution of your sins? Who do you follow unerringly into the night, a guiding light you'd never touch, begging to hear the whispers of will-o-wisps?

When all is gone, all that remains is faith. That is what the faithful will tell you. Conversely, the unfaithful will struggle and claw at the lifeless earth, watering it with tears and blood until a seed is born from the ashes of dreams.

Just as the unfaithful can't comprehend the blind delusions of their counterparts, finding the words spouted from their slippery lips to be idiotic nonsense... Those who are happy in their position, in their cozy little cubicle jobs working nine to five, who believe that their worst troubles sprout from silly suburban drama and affairs, could never understand the poems of the suffering.

Is it dark? Yes. Learn to be comfortable in the darkness and make your own light rather than follow others.

That was what Daire learned.

All those sleepless nights waiting for someone to walk in and change his life. Bitter, childish tears scarred his cheeks at the injustice. He regretted those days the most, the ones he spent wallowing in a pile of self-deprecation and pity.

That was the why of the matter. The Light is always a comforting illusion.

"Hahaha!"

Religion always makes me philosophical.

Daire schooled his face to make other pantheon patrons stop staring.

Was being philosophical bad? Not necessarily. But it could be draining, and Daire wanted to have a good day.

Examining the interior helped calm him. The architecture was typical of religious structures—high ceilings and alcoves for private worship. The building was octagonal with only one entrance/exit, which meant there were seven alcoves for the gods. Daire admired how functional the inside space was for how gaudy the outside appeared. Everything was color-coded as well.

"I feel like burgers tonight."

It started as a stray thought he verbalized, but then he thought about the process of making burgers and blanched.

I'd have to pulverize the meat. That would leave an odd taste in my mouth.

The idea of smashing meat felt needlessly aggressive to him, despite having gotten used to skinning and cutting meat, going further felt like crossing an imaginary line.

Hiring a butcher would be the better option.

"Excuse me. What brings you here, traveler?"

"Hm?"

Daire's eyes focused, a portly priestess caught his attention. Her robes were color-coded in an azure blue. Looking around, he searched for Violet. She flew off at first, but Daire could see her near a small fountain in the building's center. She was sampling the different waters. An assortment of holy folk gathered around to witness her reactions as she tasted the blessed waters from different gods. Bets were exchanged.

After tasting red-tinted water, she burped, grew hot, and fire ceremoniously sprouted from her tongue like a drake. She whisked around, flying in all directions. Panic-stricken, she returned to the fountain and gulped down bucketloads. Unfortunately, it was the same water that caused all the fuss.

That's her alright.

"Violet! Drink Aura's water. The deep blue one. Hurry before you go on a rampage!"

Daire shouted over the distance. The red-eyed pixie was pulling on an unlucky woman's hair. Turning his attention back to the priestess.

"Sorry, she's new."

The woman of unknown age smiled benevolently.

"It is a common sight. Children often see the fountain as a source for mischief and the subject for dares."

"She definitely channels childish curiosity. Now..."

Daire got down to the matter at hand.

"Was it Aura who called me here?"

The priestess bowed her head in acknowledgment, her blond curls flowing out. She led with a low hand for Daire to follow her. Daire acquiesced, tracing the priestess' footsteps to Aura's alcove where deep blue draperies hung from the walls. Daire commenting absently.

"The structure is grand for a town so small."

Speaking in tone to her steps, the priestess answered the rhetoric.

"Faith is necessary on a frontier. When the outpost evolved, and more races began mixing and getting along, faith became something the people could share. It isn't so surprising that the common people valued the church over other matters."

Like safety? Or hygiene? What about food and culture? The people could afford to spend so much on building a temple when all other aspects of life required attention?

Those were all questions he didn't ask because he knew it would lead to him arguing needlessly. Daire came to a lavish altar adorned with gifts of bread and coin. Flowers, candles, and other small offerings were laid at the feet of a beautifully carved sculpture enough to reach the forty-foot ceiling.

Daire admitted to himself that the amount of detail was astounding and worthy of worship. The artist sculpted translucent fabric waving in the absent wind, sometimes running down like water over glossy skin.

Aura was depicted like a greek dignitary. A seductress and temptress, yet her modesty was covered in an almost tantalizing fashion. The artist made sure to cover enough places to keep people guessing. The silky marble robe waved down all the way to the ground, splashing out around the altar. Daire smirked as he got closer, realizing that the artist made the conscious decision of blocking worshippers from looking up Aura's skirt. If someone were kneeling and looking up, they would see a towering figure of beauty, not lust.

It was a statement by the artist. Those who saw her from afar would see something different than those who were close to her.

I have to give them credit, whoever they are. They did a fine job.

The nameless servant of Aura stopped at the altar to gaze upward and speak a quiet word before turning around, clutching her holy symbol. Attached to a string necklace, the object of attention was detailed into a swirling whirlpool.

"As the highest priestess of Aura in this temple, the Goddess of Water and Change has chosen me to speak through."

In other words, she still refuses to speak to me. How depressing.

"Aura, huh? Honestly, I didn't expect Aura to be the one to approach me first."

Out of all the gods, this was the least likely one to reach out based on disposition and stance.

Or perhaps the most likely if he went by personality...

"The Goddess of Water doesn't communicate often, but she's expressed interest in meeting you."

Daire let a restrained chuckle escape his lips.

"I'm sure."

Shoving his hands in his pocket, Daire rolled his neck across his heightened shoulders.

"There's just one thing I'd like to ask, you know, to make sure that it's really Aura talking and all."

"That shouldn't be a problem. What is your question."

A lump got caught in Daire's throat before he cleared it. The question was simple, and the answer would be easy. But asking it caused unwelcome emotions to bubble up.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"How many times have I prayed to Aura?

The priestess seemed surprised at the question. He must not look devout. But since he counted, having the goddess confirm the number was a reasonable query.

Clutching her holy symbol tighter, she bowed her head to pray. To hear the words of divinity clearly, she needed to keep a clear mind; otherwise, the words would be jumbled among her own wandering thoughts.

Through the prolonged silence, Daire was waiting with a forlorn expression that the priestess couldn't see. When the answer arrived, she doubted her concentration.

"Well?"

Daire exhaled.

"I'll accept the answer if it is in the ballpark."

The reference was lost on her, but the priestess understood the meaning. There was no need to guess, however. Aura answered exactly.

"Two Thousand Three hundred and Thirty-Six."

Daire's smile was sad.

"Yeah... that sounds about right. Haaaa... To be honest? I stopped counting the times I prayed to Aura around five hundred."

"That is a hefty number even for many priests."

It sounded like praise.

"Why did you choose to continue to pray if Aura did not answer?"

Daire could tell it was her own curiosity and not Aura's question. With a shrug, he answered.

"I thought she'd be the most likely to get annoyed."

Knitted eyebrows.

"I don't know the contents of your prayers, but would another God not have been suitable? Most give up or change faiths when their calls aren't answered."

A smirk appeared on his face.

If only she knew...

"It doesn't matter anymore. I know that Aura is listening now, so I'd like to know why she called if it isn't too much trouble."

"Of course. She's already relayed that information. I even asked when you arrived. Do you remember?"

Daire recalled.

[What brings you here, traveler?]

The fingers in his pockets clenched into tight fists.

That was what she wanted to know? She is going to act oblivious after stonewalling him for so long?

The most infuriating notion was that Aura already knew. She knew. There was no way for her not to know unless all his prayers had been sitting in her spam folder.

"You know what? I don't need this today. Tell Aura not to call if she won't listen to my voicemails."

Daire turned his back and waved a sardonic hand before he could lose control of himself. Better not to get in a fight with a diety before lunch.

He was thankful that she didn't run after him or press him for a clear answer.

"Daire! Daire!"

Violet waved, calling out for attention.

"You have to try this! It's so much fun. It was scary at first because, you know, water. And that fountain is deeper than it looks. But they each taste so weird... It was like opening a mystery box each time. The red one is hot and spicy and makes me feel funny, but the blue one was soothing."

She put a finger to her lip.

"Although, I swear I heard voices afterward. Drinking the green one got rid of them. Come on! You have to try this; I think it tastes like that cotton candy you've been telling me about!"