Basil was his name.
His body was thin, skin-clad bones. He had sunken brown eyes that looked too big for his small face.
Basil might not mean much to most people, but he was the backbone of his two younger siblings.
A 21-year-old young man, a devotee of the God of Light. A decent young man who a month earlier had always been unlucky.
Before starting his job as the palace servant, Basil was just a poor carpenter. But he blamed no one. He didn't blame his mother who abandoned him and his siblings. He didn't blame fate. According to him, everything was written down. It was predestined. All he needed to do was try and pray. As best as possible. As humble as possible.
Unfortunately that day it seemed like God was testing him.
