Silence fell on the chapel, broken only by the relieved sobs coming from the couple on the pulpit.

Brother Byron’s words echoed in the heads of every member of the congregation.

‘Brothers and sisters, I present to you a miracle of our God.’

Valen stood staring at the apparent miracle worker standing over the grateful couple. A million questions ran through his head before the singular thought of Vivian’s own illness encompassed his mind.

“Holy fucking shit,” Louise whispered under her breath.

Not the most appropriate choice of words to utter in a place of worship, but no one could blame her.

Enid furrowed her brow. “That’s not possible,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Brother Byron.

Valen remained silent as he tried to process what just happened in his head.

It all seemed too good to be true.

The gods’ existence is an objective fact, but so is their abandonment of the mortal plane. With how dramatic they were with their displays throughout history, Valen found it hard to believe that they’d announce their return after aeons aways by healing one person in a part of the city most people try to forget existed.

He considered for a moment that it might not have been a miracle but some novel cure administered through the meat offering. But then that would imply the chapel had the means to cure the Divine Plague and decided to not divulge it to the public despite the countless lives that could be saved by doing so.

Initial awe gave way to growing suspicion. Valen wondered if what he saw might’ve been a trick. As much as he wanted to believe there was a way to save his sister, the sceptic in him kept him from buying it.

His mind raced for alternative explanations.

It could be some sort of illusion magic that only made the Divine Plague’s symptoms disappear long enough for the donation plate to make its rounds. A skilled illusionist could hide the magical static from their spells, and being in a leynode might make it hard to differentiate from the ambient magic already present.

Or the couple could be part of an act. Intentionally put there to help the chapel scam the crowd. But if that’s the case then they should probably be in the movie biz with how convincing their acting was.

Or maybe-

His train of thought was interrupted when an old human from the pew in front of him clambered out into the aisle and crumpled to his knees, his weathered walking stick clattering onto the ground beside him.

Valen brushed past Enid and Louise to get to the man and crouched down beside him. He looked to be in his seventies, nearing the end of his natural life in addition to being afflicted with the Divine Plague as evidenced by the black vein marks around his neck.

“Are you alright, sir?” Valen asked, though he made no move to help him up yet. Humans tended not to like having a vampire stranger suddenly touch them without permission, even in an attempt to help them.

The old man offered no response. Instead he stared up at Brother Byron and the Divine Mother’s shrine with tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks.

“Please,” he pleaded in a tiny whisper that reverberated through the entire chapel. “Heal me.”

A young succubus from one of the back rows joined him on the aisle carpet, kneeling in reverence with her hands clasped in prayer.

“My little brother has the Divine Plague,” she choked out through tears, “please, help him too!”

Her desperate plea was followed by a similar one from a high elf in the middle row. Then another from a dwarf man missing an arm. Then another. And another.

In a matter of seconds, more than half the congregation had fallen onto their knees around the chapel begging to be healed.

Valen wondered if he should join them. Enid and Louise remained in their seats, Enid still eying Brother Byron with suspicion while Louise viewed the kneeling congregation around her with a wary look.

“Do not fret.” Brother Byron’s tranquil voice overpowered the chorus of quiet sobs and pleas of his congregation. “The miracle is free to all who would open their hearts to our God.”

His choice of words was a bit odd. Sanguinism worshipped the Divine Parents above all other gods, but they were usually referred to as the Divine Mother or Father rather than ‘Our God’ like Brother Byron was doing.

Valen had assumed that he just misspoke the first time around. Now he started to wonder if there was more to him using the term.

Brother Byron scanned the congregation through the empty black pits of his mask that made it hard to read his gaze. Valen didn’t realise he was looking at him until he spoke.

“What about you, young man?” Brother Byron held an open hand towards Valen as he sat crouched beside the sobbing old human, “You seem quite willing to help others, but is there something that we can help you with instead?”

Valen considered his response. Something about Brother Byron’s constant, obviously practised smile and the way he spoke like an especially eloquent used car salesman screamed of a man who knew more than he was letting on.

“I am rather unsure of that, sir,” said Valen. He felt the eyes of everyone in the chapel bore into him at his response, including those of the couple still sitting at the pulpit, their eyes now dry from exhausting their tears.

The corner of Brother Byron’s lips twitched for a split second. Valen doubted he’d have noticed it if he wasn’t studying what could be seen of his face so intently. Whether it indicated amusement or annoyance he couldn’t quite say for sure.

“You have doubts about the Divine Miracle, my child?” he asked. “Even after witnessing it for yourself?”

Valen saw the first flayed threads of a red flag.

‘My child’, Brother Byron said. Normal Sanguinist priests don’t speak like that. The whole doctrine behind Sanguinism is that all sapient lifeforms were equal in the eyes of the divine. Putting himself above someone he was talking to, even in something as benign as a paternal role, went directly against the tenants he was supposed to teach.

Valen rose to his feet. He looked straight up at Brother Byron where his eyes should be. Though he stood far below the High Priest on the pulpit, he addressed him in a strong voice that demanded the respect of an equal.

“It is just that I have several questions about this miracle that have yet to be answered, sir.”

“By all means, ask them.” Brother Byron opened his arms towards Valen and the congregation at large as if to embrace them all at once. “I am more than willing to give you their answers.”

Valen glanced at the people sitting in the pews and kneeling on the carpet. Their eyes were fixed on him, awaiting his questions. Many of them looked less than friendly.

He would have to consider his words with caution to not incur any wrath brought about by their religious fervour.

He couldn’t outright call Brother Byron a conman. Even if he was right, he doubted the crowd would appreciate having their only source of hope shattered before their eyes. Comforting lies are often protected with more ferocity than harsh truths.

“Why has the existence of this miracle not been shared with the world yet?” Valen asked. “Should the good news of the gods’ return not be spread to all rather than confined to this chapel?”

Valen phrased himself in a way that implied he believed in the miracle he just witnessed. He still wasn’t sure what to think of it, though he hoped that it was real more than anything else.

Brother Byron’s smile didn’t waver, but he turned away from Valen to address the entire congregation as a whole.

“A good question, but to answer that we must first ask why the gods left us to begin with,” he said, answering his question with another question he could more easily deal with. “You see, back in the age of gods when their influence was clear for all to see, their worshippers only honoured them so that their selfish prayers could be fulfilled. They prayed for strength. For knowledge. For wealth. Only what they want. Not what they truly needed. They left so that they may test us. To weed out the opportunists from the truly faithful so that only the worthy like those in this church will receive their blessings.”

“Are the lives outside this chapel not worth saving, sir?” Valen spat out the words with slightly more venom than he’d intended. A hundred eyes burned their gaze into his back.

“Those who do not wish to be saved cannot be saved,” was Brother Byron’s reply. “If this miracle is offered to all the world then there would be no point in their test of faith.”

“What of the hundred thousand other churches and temples around the world?” Valen asked. “Why have they not seen such miracles yet?”

“This place is different, for it is run by the truly faithful who all live in the very cathedral next to this chapel. Only the truly faithful can harness the miracle-or be healed by it.” He cast a glance at Emily and Oskar on the pulpit. “Which brings me to my next message, delivered onto me by the one who brought about the miracle you all witnessed.”

Emily, the half of the couple who received the miraculous healing, looked at him with concern. “Brother Byron?” she squeaked, as if afraid an errant word to her saviour could make him undo her cure.

Brother Byron’s smile faded into a sympathetic frown.

“Unfortunately, the nature of faith also means this miracle will not last forever. For true faith in the divine is a lifelong commitment, not something that can be obtained and discarded as one sees fit.”

“What do you mean?” Oskar asked, holding Emily tight in his arms.

“When Emily steps out of the sacred ground of this chapel, the Divine Plague will return to her body,” Brother Byron explained.

“What?!” Oskar’s face fell and Emily’s mouth went agape in shock.

A wave of panicked whispers and despairing sobs washed over the crowd.

“But there is yet a way to make it permanent,” said Brother Byron, his strong voice drowning out the growing discontent in the church. “As some of you may know, the cathedral beside us has been converted into a hospice. However, that is not entirely true. A noble ruse told to those unworthy of what truly lay inside it. It is not a place to sit idly by and accept death, but a place of healing meant to defy it.” He turned back to Emily. “If you can bring yourself to accept divinity into your heart and live the way the truly faithful do here with us, then one day you too will be cleansed of this plague that has chosen you as its host.”

It was an awfully convenient excuse. Valen became more convinced that the so-called miracle was just some exceptional illusion magic that would wear off once people left the leynode.

“Why the deception, sir?” Valen asked, remembering how he was refused a tour of the hospice when he first called. “If this place is truly the path to salvation, why not make it known to all?”

The attention of the crowd fell on him again, their annoyance now visible on their faces.

“The modern world is full of greed, my child,” The plastic smile returned to Brother Byron’s face. “Along with faithless heathens who would seek to exploit the miracle for their own ends. And if they were to know of what we do here and had it their way, the miracle would cease to be. You seem to be a bright young man. Surely you know how corporations would love to profit off a place like this.”

Valen had to admit he was right on that account. Corporations had taken the place of holy temples in the modern age, and nowhere was that more clear than in Dragon’s Rest.

It was already an industrious merchant city in its early days. Now it was the base of operations for countless megacorporations with influence all throughout the world.

But suspicion still gnawed at Valen from the inside. Common sense told him to drop the topic, agree with whatever the High Priest said, and return to his seat. And yet his gut told him to push the issue to see where it led.

“With all due respect, sir,” he said, “how do we know you are not doing the same?”

Gasps filled the chapel. He guessed they were shocked at his audacity to keep questioning the miracle that just fell onto their laps.

The sound of heavy feet thumping against the wooden floor cut through the noise.

Valen turned around to see an orc lunging towards him with his arm already reeled back for a punch. Although he showed early signs of the Divine Plague on his neck, it did not yet sap him of his strength. His green face was twisted in rage directed towards him for daring to question the saviour who was about to save his life.

“Shut the FUCK up!” he screamed, his desperation causing his voice to crack.

Valen slid his right foot forward and prepared to grab the man by his right arm when he threw his inevitable punch. The orc was a good two heads taller than him, but he’d thrown bigger guys before, and the forward momentum of his lunge would work to his advantage.

A sudden streak of blue lightning cut through the air and into the orc’s shoulder before he got close enough. A woman in the crowd screamed when she saw his green skin light up neon blue as electricity tore through his body.

Enid had stood from her seat, her open palm pointed at the orc with electrical static still running through her fingers.

The orc staggered to an abrupt stop. His eyes were open wide in surprise as wisps of smoke came out of his mouth, though he didn’t topple over.

A white and yellow blur swooshed under him to fixed that.

Louise slammed a downwards left hook into his right kneecap and sent it buckling under him. She chained it up with a right uppercut, aimed at his crotch instead of his jaw which she couldn’t reach.

The low-blow uppercut made contact with a painful thud that caused every man within a mile winch, followed by an unintelligible squeaking noise emitted from the orc’s open mouth.

The orc fell to his knees cradling his crotch. To add insult to injury or just make sure he didn’t get back up again, Louise sent a flying knee crashing into his crying, puckered face that put him flat on his back with a broken nose.

Panic erupted in the chapel. A hundred different voices yelled out in outrage at Valen and his friends.

“Blasphemous bitch!” shouted an elf woman behind Enid before push-kicking her in the back.

Valen rushed over to catch her as she stumbled out the narrow pew before she could fall.

“I got you,” he said as he helped her steady herself.

“Thanks,” Enid muttered, rubbing her back where she’d been kicked.

“Heathens!” shouted a member of the crowd.

“Get them outta here!” joined another voice.

“They don’t deserve the miracle!” someone else added.

Valen grabbed Enid’s hand and Louise’s arm as more members of the congregation started to stand up with hostile glares directed straight at them. He prepared to book it from the chapel and drag Enid and Louise along with him.

“Enough.”

The single word spoken with utmost calm by Brother Byron on the pulpit resounded throughout the chapel like a gunshot that silenced all chatter around him.

Valen felt the sound from his voice vibrating through his bones. The word ‘Enough’ pierced his mind and rattled inside his skull. As if it spoke not to him, but to some primal instinct buried deep inside him that forced his body to heed the message regardless of what his conscious mind wanted. He guessed from the distressed faces of the crowd that they must’ve felt the same thing.

The congregation stared at Brother Byron to await his wisdom-or perhaps instructions to deal with the three heathens in his chapel.

He looked down at Valen, the smile thoroughly vanished from his face. “My apologies for that bit of unpleasantness, Mister…?”

“Vasilis,” said Valen.

“Mr. Vasilis. This is a sacred place where violence of any kind is not to be tolerated.”

Louise spoke up, her white brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Oy, my mates didn’t do shit!” She pointed at the orc lying on the ground. “That fucker over there started it!”

“Indeed he did,” came his reply.

He turned to his two priestess assistants and motioned at the incapacitated attacker with a tilt of his head. The moment he did, the red hooded priestesses each holstered him up by the shoulder and dragged him out the front door to the shocked faces of the congregation.

“Violence is an injustice, and can only occur when the cause is unjust,” Brother Byron said. “Striking a man for simply speaking his mind is violence. But to protect that man from one who sought to harm him? That is not violence. It is an act of righteous intervention, and not one that Mister Vasilis’s friends should be shamed for.”

The congregation averted their gaze to stare at their feet in shame like dogs caught making a mess on the carpet by their owners. Enid shot a cold glare at the elf who kicked her, who stumbled backwards onto her seat in fear.

“I appreciate the sentiment, sir,” said Valen. “But I believe it’s high time my friends and I left this place.”

“Are you certain?” Brother Byron asked. “Miracles like the ones we offer don’t come around every century.”

“I am, sir. Good night.”

Valen turned his back to the High Priest. He would’ve headed straight for the door if not for what Brother Byron said next.

“Don’t you wish to see where your sister will be staying?”

Valen froze in his tracks. A chill ran down his spine and he wondered how the hell Brother Byron knew about Vivian. Did some omniscient god really tell him that?

For a split second all the doubt he’d had about the miracle washed away and he was ready to believe that Brother Byron was an emissary of the gods here to help him and him specifically save his sister from certain death.

The sound of Louise’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“What the hell did you just say?” Louise fixed her eyes on Brother Byron and his increasingly condescending smile.

“I merely suggested that Mister Vasilis should become acquainted with where his sister will be staying soon,” he said, “that’s why you’re here, is it not? To see for yourself what it is like?”

“How did you know that?” Louise sounded more nervous by the second. As headstrong as she was, even she knew better than to challenge the will of the gods, assuming that they were real and present in the chapel in some form.

“Our God whispered into my ear,” Brother Byron said, “telling me to guide you and your friend onto the path they laid. If you all stay after the sermon, I’d be more than happy to show you three around the cathedral.”

A voice cried out from the kneeling crowd.

“What about the rest of us?!” they cried.

“Yeah!” someone else joined in. “What about the true believers like us!”

The crowd clamoured for justice, decrying it as unfair for the doubters among them to enter the cathedral before they do.

“Silence.”

Another singular word from Brother Byron’s mouth forced them to obey. Like before, Valen felt the word penetrate inside his mind, though not quite as deeply as before.

“Brothers and sisters,” Brother Byron continued, “The truly faithful need not set foot on the sacred ground just yet. Such special guidance is to be reserved for those with doubts in their hearts, so that they may be brought to the same virtuous path you are all already on. Rest assured, you will all enter it eventually and feel the touch of our god within your heart.” He turned back to Valen and outstretched an open hand his way. “So what say you, Mister Vasilis? Will you stay and walk the path with us?”

Valen considered the offer despite his better judgement. He wanted nothing more than for Vivian to be cured. If this priest was giving him the chance to make that happen, then what pathetic excuse for a younger brother would he be if he didn’t accept it? All he had to do was trust him.

Enid tightened her hand around his.

“Remember how you got here,” she whispered to him.

Valen looked at her, confused.

Her icy blue eyes looked back at him with total calm that helped him still the rapid beating of his own heart. Whatever she meant by her words, she must’ve thought it obvious enough that she needn’t elaborate it for him.

Not wanting to prove her wrong, Valen tried to recall how he got to the chapel.

Then it clicked. It wasn’t really a matter of how, but of why.

The only reason he decided to attend the chapel sermon in the first place was because the staff declined his request for a tour in the cathedral next to it when he called them.

He’d told the staff member on the phone why he wanted a tour, and though he recalled the voice to be female, it wasn’t impossible for Brother Byron to have overheard his voice from the call and recognised it when he heard him in the chapel. It might’ve even been the reason why he was picked out of everybody in the chapel to be spoken to after the first ‘miracle.’

Or, a more disturbing thought, they might’ve traced his call to Vivian’s house. After that it would just be a matter of looking up the address and finding out who lives there. A stretch perhaps, but if they were willing to use illusion magic or the world’s best acting couple to scam people then he wouldn’t put it past them.

Either way, by revealing information about Valen he couldn’t have possibly known under the pretence of divine omniscience, Brother Byron was able to further increase his authenticity in the eyes of the crowd.

The more he thought about it, the more Valen cursed himself for almost falling for such simple tricks.

“I appreciate the offer, sir,” he said without turning around to face the High Priest, “but I don’t believe my sister will be staying here anymore. Good bye.”

Valen through the aisles past dozens of worshippers who scowled at him down on their knees. Enid stayed right by his side while Louise took a bit longer to realise they were leaving.

“Oy, Valen!” Louise tore her eyes away from Brother Byron. “Wait up!”

She caught up with him just as he was about to walk out the doors.

The three of them stepped outside to find the orc from before still crumpled on the ground in front of the chapel, hands cupped over his crotch and smelling somewhat like burning plastic. The faint jeers of the crowd alongside Brother Byron saying something about people who didn’t want to be saved could be heard behind them.

“Sorry about that mate.” Valen crouched down and slid a twenty draco bill inside the orc’s shirt pocket. “Have a drink and an aspirin on me.”

Enid and Louise rolled their eyes at the same time.

“You do realise he tried to sock you, right?” said Louise.

“I’m well aware of that,” said Valen. “And I appreciate you two defending me.”

“You’re welcome,” said Enid. “But you don’t need to feel sorry for him.”

Valen spared one last glance at the orc, eyes fixed on the black veins around his neck that marked him for death sooner than later.

“He’s a victim too, Enid,” he said before walking away.

Enid and Louise followed him.

“So what now?” Louise asked. “You gonna call up Vivian to stay away from this place?”

“No, this is something I have to tell her face to face to make sure she understands.” He turned to Enid. “I can walk you out the dome first if you want to though, Enid.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m sticking with you,” said Enid. “Make sure nobody else tries to kill you tonight.”

“I’ll come along too if that’s alright,” said Louise.

“I don’t mind,” said Valen. “It’ll be good to have both of you around to help me explain what happened too.”

“Yeah, about that.” Louise scratched the back of her head with a nervous look. “Are you sure it was a good idea to tell them off like that?”

Valen thought back to the look of utter devotion on Emily’s face when she was cured of the Divine Plague and wondered if Vivian would’ve reacted the same way in her place.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure myself. But there are just too many things making me doubt Brother Byron and his miracles.”

Louise shrugged.

“It must be bullshit if you think so.” She gave his side a playful bump with her shoulder. “I don’t really understand why you were so sceptical, but I believe in your judgement.”

“You trust me too much,” said Valen.

“No.” A serious edge entered Louise’s voice. “You trust yourself too little.”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” added Enid.

Valen turned to Enid. She was the smartest person he knew and probably one of the smartest people in all of Dragon’s Rest if her grades were any indication.

“What do you think, Enid?” Valen asked. “I have to admit I might’ve fallen for what Brother Byron said if you hadn’t given me a reality check back there.”

“You would’ve figured it out eventually,” Enid said with total confidence that Valen didn’t feel he had earned from her. “As for what I think. I think that the chances of this miracle being a con is higher than the chances of it being legit. My guess is illusion magic hidden by the leynode or paid actors. That’s not to say it’s impossible though. It’s a weird world we live in.”

Doubt crept into Valen’s thoughts once more.

“But if it is real, then did I just kill Vivian by refusing to believe in it?”

“Valen.” Enid squeezed his right hand. “Belief is all find and good but doubt is just as important. Especially when it comes to things we want to believe in. If the miracle is fake, by believing in it you would’ve allowed some asshole to exploit Vivian in her darkest hour. You can’t be faulted for having doubts.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said Valen. “I still feel like we should do something about that chapel though.”

Louise stretched out her furry white arms. “We can figure that out later. Let’s just get back to Vivian’s place first.”

“Sure.” Enid let out a long yawn. “Let’s get going.”

“You sure you want to come, Enid?” Valen asked. “You seem tired.”

“Well it is half past midnight.”

Louise scoffed. “Imagine needing eight hours of sleep. Right, Valen?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?” Valen asked again.

“Yeah,” said Enid. “Is it alright if I nap at your place after we get the explanations out of the way though?”

“Of course,” said Valen. “Actually, why don’t you just sleep over tonight? I'm sure Vivian won't mind.”

“Oy!” Louise leaned up close to him with a teasing smile. “You seriously aren’t gonna have a sleepover without me, are ya?”

Enid groaned. “There’s no way I can sleep soundly with this little snowball snoring in the same room.”

The two started bickering again, but for some reason Valen didn’t mind it as much this time around. After what happened in the chapel, hearing them sling verbal mud at each other again like nothing happened gave him a strange feeling of comfort.

I wouldn’t last for long.