After waking up and going through their usual morning routine, Helios and Bow decided to leave Halo alone for the day and just walk around to clear their heads. The events from last night still lingered between them, a strange, heavy tension neither of them could quite shake off. "Hey, let's get some ice for Halo," Helios suggested. Bow just nodded silently, and they made their way back to the inn. When they returned, Helios knelt beside Halo's bed and gently shook him awake. "Hey, Halo, you feeling a little better?" he asked, shaking a small bag of ice in front of him. Halo cracked one eye open, his voice raspy. "I'm fine… just need some fresh air." The moment he stepped outside, though, his body betrayed him. Halo turned his head to the side and started vomiting over the inn's stairs. "Ewww," Helios muttered, taking a step back.
Bow grimaced. "That's nasty, man." "This is your fault, Bow," Halo managed to say between breaths. "All 'cause you were screwing around." Bow sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… I know. I'm sorry for what I did. I'm the reason we're probably gonna have to leave now." Helios looked at him, his voice calm but tired. "It's fine. At least we're alive. We'll deal with it when the time comes." Just then, a man walked up and handed them a small piece of paper. "Hey, you three, there's going to be another sermon by Cardinal Belanor next week. Make sure you come." Helios froze for a second. That name, Belanor. His mind flashed back to the underground cave. "Hey, Bow, take care of Halo. I'm gonna do my own thing for a bit," Helios said before heading off toward the place where he'd found the silent holy man who did nothing but pray. By the time Helios arrived, he froze. There, standing before the praying man, was Cardinal Belanor. Belanor was speaking softly as the man prayed, his words filled with feigned warmth. He smiled, even laughed quietly to himself. But the moment Belanor's eyes met Helios's from across the square, that fake smile vanished. It twisted into a deep frown, one that revealed the truth beneath the mask. Helios stared back, locking eyes with him. In that instant, he felt it, pure hatred and spite radiating from Belanor's gaze. His gut screamed at him to prepare for something. Belanor stood, bowed politely to the praying man, and began to walk away, never once taking his eyes off Helios. Helios didn't move until Belanor disappeared from sight. He knew without a doubt that Belanor remembered him. Rushing forward, Helios knelt beside the holy man. "Hey, are you okay? Do you… know that man?" The holy man didn't stop praying. His voice was calm, almost detached. "Yes, of course. That is Cardinal Belanor. He often visits me… keeps me company." Helios frowned, studying the man carefully. "I know what you're thinking," the holy man said softly. "You see darkness in him, I feel it too. But in the eyes of the Lord, he is still one of her children. So I treat him as I would any other." Helios's jaw tightened. "I wouldn't trust him for a second. Everything about that man, just looking at him makes my stomach twist into knots." The holy man stopped praying for the first time. Still kneeling, he slowly placed a trembling hand on Helios's arm. "Child," he said quietly, "what is it that you fear?" Helios's expression hardened as he turned his gaze toward Sanctus in the distance. "What I fear… huh," he murmured. "If I really think about it… it's never truly understanding my goal. Or maybe," he paused, his voice lowering, "...never figuring out what my goal even is." The man tilted his head slightly. "Do you know the difference between a goal and a dream, child?" Helios blinked, caught off guard. "What's the difference?" The man's eyes slowly opened, and Helios froze when he realized the man was blind. Yet, even sightless, the holy man seemed to be staring directly into his soul. "The difference between a goal and a dream," the man said softly, "is where they live within your future. A goal is the step you take toward your destination. A dream… is the end you hope awaits you when the journey is done." The man started to continue praying once more, "as for a little tip, i will tell you what i told belanor. "Child, wisdom is not found in trying to make the world bend to your will, but in learning to see it as it is. The wise do not curse the storm, they learn to walk through it. Be like the flower that gives fragrance even to the hand that crushes it, for virtue is not proven by peace, but by pain. You will lose much, your certainty, your comfort, even the illusion that you understand. Let it happen. For only when all is taken from you will what truly remains be revealed. That… is where understanding begins. You wish for control, but perhaps the only true power is learning to let go." Helios lingered with the holy man for a little while longer, asking questions and listening to the steady rhythm of his wisdom. Each answer made him think, each word planted seeds he couldn't yet name. Eventually, he stood, bowing respectfully. "I should head back," Helios said. "Thank you for your time." "Go with care, child," the holy man replied, laying a hand briefly on Helios's shoulder. "Walk your path, and remember what remains when all else is gone." Helios returned to the inn, finding Bow sprawled on the bed and Halo sitting upright, stretching slowly. "How are you feeling?" Helios asked, kneeling beside him. "I'm doing pretty good," Halo replied with a small smile. "Better than I did a while ago. Thanks for sticking around." Bow flopped back onto his side, grinning lazily. "Well, we're alive, that's something, right?" They spent the day together, talking quietly and letting the comfort of each other's presence fill the room. Halo rested, and Helios let his thoughts drift to the holy man's words. A week passed. The city moved around them, but Helios carried the lessons in his mind. That evening, they made their way to the small gathering where Cardinal Belanor would speak. The chapel was crowded, the air thick with expectation. Belanor ascended to the dais, his robe flowing and his voice calm but commanding. At first, Helios listened passively, but then a strange feeling settled in his chest. The cadence, the phrasing, the wisdom being spoken, it all sounded familiar. Every line. Every metaphor. Every lesson. It was as if the holy man on the rock were speaking again, only this time in Belanor's polished voice, dressed in authority and gold. Helios's mind raced. He's taking the man's words… twisting them for the crowd. But why? As the sermon continued, Helios found his eyes wandering to the ceiling, to the flickering candles, to nothing at all, trying to make sense of it. That night, back in his room, Helios lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The memory of the holy man's quiet, patient voice clashed with Belanor's public performance. He couldn't sleep, his thoughts spun with questions, doubts, and the weight of a truth he didn't yet know how to confront. And somewhere deep down, he knew he would return to the holy man soon, to hear it again, to test his own understanding, and to figure out what Belanor truly wanted.