Rein walked toward the village gates with slow, deliberate steps. His robe—torn, scorched, and hanging by threads—dragged faintly behind him. Only his pants had survived the ordeal intact.
Thank the stars for that, he thought grimly. Or this would've been a very different kind of reception.
The wooden palisade loomed ahead, weathered and sun-faded. Two guards stood by the entrance, casual until their eyes fell on him.
"Halt. Identify yourself," one called, hand drifting toward his weapon.
Rein blinked.
Right. Of course. Guards.
He recovered quickly. "I'm a healer," he said, voice steady. "In service to Lady Elarin."
The silence that followed wasn't suspicious—it was strange. Quietly reverent.
The guards exchanged a glance. One of them leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing—not in distrust, but in recognition.
"Even torn apart like that… I can still see the mark," the other murmured.
His gaze dropped to the embroidery across Rein's chest: faint, half-burned, yet unmistakable—a broken chalice split by a lightning bolt.
"The symbol of Elarin."
The first guard lowered his hand.
"Well, that explains the state you're in. Healers from Her path… they're tougher than they look."
"You're free to enter," the second added with a respectful nod. "Welcome."
As Rein passed through the gate, he noticed heads turning. Eyes watching. Not with hostility, but with something else—distance.
A boy tugged at his mother's sleeve. "Mama… why's that man not wearing a shirt? Is he a beggar?"
"Shhh," the woman whispered quickly. "Didn't you hear what the guards said? That man follows Lady Elarin. We show respect. From a distance."
Rein caught the words.
Respect… from a distance?
It didn't feel like admiration. It felt like fear wrapped in reverence.
Why? Because I chose Elarin?
In the game, choosing Elarin had seemed like an interesting twist—a healer goddess who granted offensive thunder spells at higher levels. "Thunder Spear" at level 50, "Stormbind" at 60, and so on.
But now…
Wait… I remember something. Skimmed it once in the lore section…
Divine Quartet — The Four Sisters of the Horizon
Ancient goddesses who embodied forces at the edge of life, death, and rebirth. Once united under the Celestial Accord, now fractured across the world's fading memory.
1. Elarin – Ruler of Thunder, The Voice of MercyDomain: Thunder, Mercy, Healing, JusticeSymbol: A broken chalice struck by lightningTitles: The Everstorm, She Who Judges GentlyPatron of healers, paladins, and those who endure suffering.
"Her mercy is swift. Her mercy is sharp."
2. Veyra – Dusk Seraph, Bearer of the Final LightDomain: Twilight, Secrets, Memory, EndingsSymbol: A scorched feather cradling a dying flameFollowers are soulbinders, oracles, memory archivists.
"She appears at the dusk of things."
3. Serradiel – Mistress of Time, Weaver of MomentsDomain: Time, Fate, Regret, RenewalSymbol: An ouroboros of mirrored glassFollowers are time-menders and fatebreakers.
"Regret is the fuel. Choice is the loom."
4. Ilyara – The Veiled Bloom, Keeper of Chaos WithinDomain: Emotion, Sacrifice, RebirthSymbol: A blooming flower in a cage of thorns
"From pain, beauty. From ruin, growth."
Rein shook his head.
None of that explained why they were wary of me.
He fingered the coin pouch still tucked in the robe's inner fold—silver from the Trial. Somehow, it had survived too.
He winced.
Just thinking about the Trial stirred flashes. Torture. Chains. A body seared by lightning and flame. But thanks to Calm Mind, he didn't feel disturbed. The memory felt… distant. As if it had happened to someone else.
Still… I need to stop thinking about it.
Honey Dew Inn
The bell above the door chimed as Rein stepped inside.
"Welcome to—"
The room fell silent.
Forks paused halfway to mouths. A bard's fingers froze over her strings. Even the hearth fire seemed to dim.
Rein sighed.
Again?
He approached the counter, feigning nonchalance. "One room, please. And fresh clothes if available."
The girl at the counter—barely older than a teen—stared wide-eyed.
"Th-that is…"
A man emerged from the kitchen behind her. Broad-shouldered, sleeves rolled up. His expression was calmer, more practiced.
"Sarah, I'll handle it," he said gently, then turned to Rein. "Evenin'. That's three silver for the room, five with meals."
"Two nights. Full meals." Rein reached into the pouch and set down ten silver. "But… can I ask something?"
The innkeeper leaned in.
"Why are people afraid of me?"
He chuckled softly. "Ah. You are new."
He lowered his voice. "Serving Lady Elarin is noble—she and her sisters kept the world from cracking, back in the ancient days. But her followers? Their kind of mercy sometimes scares folk."
Rein raised a brow.
"There was a time," the man continued, "when a group of her disciples 'purified' a town overrun by cultists. Mercy, they called it—lightning that didn't leave much behind."
Rein frowned.
So that's it… They respect her. But they're afraid of her judgment.
"I see."
"I'm Adam, by the way. This here's my daughter, Sarah." He waved behind him.
"Rein," he replied. "I'm… twenty-five."
Adam burst out laughing. "Twenty-five? You look barely eighteen. Trying to get a drink, are you?"
Rein blinked. "No, seriously. I am twenty-five."
Adam rummaged under the counter and handed him a polished metal mirror.
Rein stared.
The reflection that looked back at him wasn't his avatar. It wasn't even him. It was… younger. Smoother. Brighter eyes. No scars.
The game was supposed to replicate your real appearance with 90% accuracy.
So why…?
SolasVolt? Did it alter me?
Whatever the reason, he didn't have the energy to untangle it now.
Adam shrugged. "Well, can't serve you any mead until you hit twenty. But I'll knock off the price. Eight silver total. That work?"
Rein nodded. "Thanks."
Adam smiled. "You'll like the room. It's on the second floor. Quiet. No thunder in the walls."
Rein raised a brow at the odd phrasing, but said nothing.
Later — The Room
He collapsed onto the straw-stuffed mattress with a heavy sigh.
The window was cracked open. A breeze drifted through. Somewhere, bells tolled again—soft, far-off, and not quite in rhythm.
"For now… I can sleep."
His eyes closed.
Outside, lightning pulsed far beyond the hills.
And something ancient turned its gaze toward the boy who wore once wore Her symbol.
*************
The dream came like fog.
Not sleep—not quite. More like being submerged in breathless memory.
He was standing.
Barefoot.
The air around him shimmered in silver hues, rippling like the surface of deep water. Lightning arched above—a skyless dome, cracking with soft thunder that didn't echo, only vibrated inside his chest.
He looked down.
The ground was a mosaic. Thousands of glass tiles forming the image of a woman cloaked in stormlight. Her arms outstretched. Her face veiled. And in her cupped palms—a broken chalice, from which spilled both blood and light.
"Lady… Elarin," he whispered. She looks the same as the statue he saw in the game.
The mosaic cracked beneath his feet.
A voice spoke—not in sound, but in understanding.
"You wear what you do not yet comprehend."
Rein turned. The veiled woman from the mosaic now stood before him—alive, shifting, impossible to focus on. Thunder bloomed in the folds of her robe.
"Mercy is not comfort, child," the voice continued. "It is the storm that stops a war. The pain that saves a life. The sacrifice that leaves only ashes."
Rein opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not even thought.
"You are not ready for what sleeps inside you. But others will come—some seeking shelter. Some seeking to break you."
" And, forgive me for what has happened" She disappeared
The sky flickered.
Suddenly—blades of light rained down from above. People screaming. Cloaked figures in white and gold.
A burning chapel.
"You must choose what remains. And what must be unmade."
She turned away.
The dream shattered.
Morning — Honey Dew Inn
Rein woke with a start, sweat cold across his back.
No birdsong. No voices. Just the distant creak of carts and the muffled noise of village life returning.
What… was that?
He sat up slowly.
His body felt tingly and hot for some reason.
It wasn't just a dream.
Knock knock.
He turned.
"Uh—excuse me?" came Sarah's timid voice through the door. "There's… someone here asking for you. Says she's from the chapel."
Rein stiffened.
What?
He rose, adjusting the tunic Adam had given him. As he stepped out of the room, the morning light cut across the hallway floor like a blade.
Outside — Village Square
The woman stood beneath the statue of the Harvest Saint, her robes lined with blue filaments of divine thread. The villagers gave her a wide berth.
She turned when Rein approached.
Her eyes flicked once to the mark beneath his collar, then to his face. Calm. Measured. Not hostile—but not warm.
"You who once one of use" she said softly. "Just standing with you make me want to puke. If not because of Lady Elarin, we would have perform purification ritual onto you"
When Rein heard that, he immeadietly gulped.
Rein hesitated. "Then… why."
She starred at him and sighed
"I am Sister Maelis. From the Outer Cloister of Elarin. You weren on our records. But one night your name disappeared. There are 2 reason why it happened, one you die, or you turn away from her way."
Rein's expression tensed. "I didn't do it in purpose. I dont know why it happened either. it just because i survived something. And now it's gone from the records, maybe."
Maelis narrowed her eyes.
She doesn't believe me… or maybe she does, but the truth bothers her.
The silence stretched, then she surprised him by bowing slightly.
"but the Lady trust you. and she said your path will not be gentle."
She straightened. "The chapel is two hours east. You will come when called."
She turned without waiting for a reply and vanished into the morning mist.
Back at the Inn
Adam leaned on the counter as Rein returned.
"Guess you met the church," he said.
Rein only nodded.
Adam studied him for a moment. "They'll want to test you. Measure if you're good or not."
"And if I'm not?"
Adam's eyes darkened.
"Then may Elarin judge you gently."
Rein said nothing.
And somewhere in the far hills, thunder rumbled again—not from a storm, but from something waking.