Aram loved studying.
She loved it immensely. Knowledge was necessary when eating food, when listening to music, and even when simply walking down a road. And the more one knew of the world, the clearer it became.
In the end, a lowly beggar with nothing to her name had become a priest through sheer good fortune.
“Will you come with me?”
“Am I allowed to?”
“Yes. I see aptitude in you.”
“Then… I want to go.”
She took the offered hand.
The dangers of joining the Moon Church were disclosed to her in advance. But she did not care. It was not merely that she could escape the lowly status of a beggar. She loved the prospect of enjoying knowledge far beyond anything she deserved.
“How does the Moon bestow wisdom?”
“When the priests combine their strength and pray for an average of one month, they can obtain information from our teacher. If one seeks an easier method, it would naturally be to communicate with the god directly through the aid of a saint.”
“But the Saint you have now looked as though he would die soon. Even now, he’s confined to bed, so he can’t ask and answer questions with our teacher.”
“Another saint need only emerge. Is that not why we gathered here?”
“Ah…”
Perhaps Aram’s fate had been decided from…