“Hmph, the Doctrine of Life is utterly useless! It saves nothing; one might as well follow the Church of Blood!”
A white-haired elven youth had argued with the priest who taught the doctrine. With those words, he pushed open the doors and stormed out of the church hall.
As he rushed past Isis, the gust of wind stirred by his passing figure ruffled her hair. She paused, turning her head to watch his retreating back.
“He is Lord Milton’s grandson.”
Another priest approached her, speaking with a melancholic expression. The boy’s identity caused Isis a degree of surprise.
“His grandson?”
“Yes, Lord Milton’s children were afflicted by a malicious curse during the war and lost their lives. Thus, this child lost his parents at a young age, and our church was powerless to help. So now, he despises this church.”
Faith provides the motivation and hope to live. When a believer’s faith fails to meet their needs, they naturally awaken, unable to suppress their aversion to their own beliefs.
“Do not worry. When he truly matures, perhaps he will understand.”
With a sigh, the priest picked up the book in their hand and moved away from Isis. Isis merely gazed at their departing back, saying nothing further.
Undeniably, the Church of Life, now without her, had indeed begun to lose its necessity for faith. Perhaps, under such circumstances, the elves changing their beliefs might lead to better lives for them.
This thought flickered briefly in her mind. For the next two days, she continued to teach the doctrine within the Church of Life, and her small savings quickly accumulated to around twenty silver coins.
“Here you go, Miss Isis, these are the last five silver coins. Will you truly not be serving as a temporary priest tomorrow?”
Milton counted out five silver coins from his hand, offering them to Isis. It wasn’t the few coins he was reluctant to part with, but Isis herself.
Hearing her explanations these past two days, he felt his understanding of the Doctrine of Life had advanced several levels. Perhaps soon, he too would be able to nurture a sapling into a man-sized tree.
It was a pity that once Isis left, he wondered how long it would take him to improve his understanding on his own.
“Yes, I will not be serving tomorrow.”
Taking the silver coins, Isis felt little attachment to the priestly position. She exhaled softly, knowing she could now leave Prelley at any moment.
“The children are very fond of you.”
Milton continued his attempts to persuade her, but Isis merely shook her head, replying with a touch of hesitation, “…Perhaps I might come back to visit someday.”
‘Would she truly return after leaving Prelley?’
‘She knew, deep down, that it was impossible. Having escaped Beacai, how could she possibly return to Prelley, the holy city of the Church of Blood? Would that not be delivering herself right into Beacai’s grasp?’
Yet, for some reason, if she were to directly refuse Milton, she felt she would be overly heartless. Moreover…
Clenching the five coins in her hand, she found herself surprisingly devoid of the joy she expected from her imminent escape from Prelley. Instead, an inexplicable uneasiness settled within her.
Knowing he couldn’t convince Isis, Milton didn’t press further. He escorted her to the door, and after a few parting words, waved goodbye. “Have a safe journey, Miss Isis.”
Several elven children emerged from behind him, waving their farewells as well. Lily was the most reluctant to see her go; tears streamed down her face as she clutched Isis’s skirt, unwilling to let her leave.
A strange tenderness stirred within Isis. She paused, then waved back at them, turning and leaving the church without another glance.
She feared that if she stayed any longer, she would find it too difficult to depart from this place.
It was afternoon, and the bustling streets were teeming with people. Having shed her role as a priest of the Church of Life, she realized she simply couldn’t integrate into this city.
Just as when she first arrived, upon her departure, she still felt it didn’t belong to her.
Perhaps this was how the elves felt, forced to wander in a foreign land, their longing for home buried deep. They would never consider this place their own.
Clutching the heavy twenty-odd silver coins, Isis sought out the carriage rental area after some inquiry.
It was a simple wooden shack constructed from thatch and timber. Perhaps because tomorrow was the Divine Festival, many people were traveling to and from the city, leaving only a few carriages available for rent.
A growing sense of foreboding settled in her heart. By Isis’s common sense, carriage fares usually increased under such circumstances. It was highly probable that twenty silver coins would not be enough to rent a carriage to leave Prelley.
Therefore, she still had time to leave the shack directly. Otherwise, asking the price only to find she couldn’t afford it would merely lead to embarrassment.
With this thought, she instinctively turned around, intending to leave the wooden shack. Yet, after a few steps, she stopped.
‘Was she afraid of something? Why did she hesitate to ask?’
‘Hadn’t she worked so hard to earn these silver coins for this very moment? If the price was too high and she couldn’t rent a carriage, at least asking would allow her to give up completely.’
‘No, how could she give up? Beacai hadn’t returned yet. Perhaps she could continue serving as a priest, earning enough money. She would always find a way to leave Prelley.’
Returning to the counter of the wooden shack, Isis asked the coachman, “Hello, how much does it cost to leave Prelley?”
The coachman lazily lifted his eyelids, glanced at her, and held up two fingers. “A flat rate of twenty silver coins. However, the Divine Festival is just one day away. I recommend you wait until after the festival to leave Prelley. After all, such a grand celebration only happens once a year.”
“If you miss it, you’ll have to wait until next year. If you’re a rare visitor to Prelley, you might not see it again for the rest of your life.”
Twenty silver coins? No price increase?
Hearing the unexpected figure, she paused, stunned for a moment.
If it was only twenty silver coins, it seemed… she could afford this fare?
****
Whoosh—bang—!
A dazzling crimson firework bloomed in the sky. The morning light cascaded onto Prelley’s most renowned Perfume Avenue, where the already lively and bustling street was now overflowing with throngs of people.
The citizens of Prelley had prepared for days, and finally, the Church of Blood’s Divine Festival had arrived.
Stalls lined both sides of the spacious Perfume Avenue. Crimson ribbons, hung from the streetlights, swayed gently in the breeze. The vast majority of Prelley’s residents had gathered here for the celebration, and the air was filled with laughter and cheerful chatter.
Having concluded her affairs, Beacai had finally returned to Prelley just in time for the Divine Festival.