Flour'e shyly handed over her handmade drawing, eyes hopeful as she looked up at Seon.
Who in exchange, frowned, squinting at the paper as she tried to make sense of the crude lines and shapes.
"Uh… three… dogs?" Seon asked, completely baffled. "Ortos, Yunnie, and whoever else?"
Yunnie leaned in, squinting at the drawing over her shoulder.
"Dogs? No way—looks more like three flowers. And why am I a dog?!"
"Indeed, you look more like a rat rather than a dog."
"..."
Flour'e's face fell, and her hopeful expression crumbled.
"T-that's… me, Father, and Sister…" she whispered wavering.
"Me? a dog?!"
"Obviously, she means those are humans!" Yunnie corrected, nudging Seon with an exasperated look. "why do you perceive everything as dogs??"
Seon's brow furrowed.
She was about to mutter, "This looks like shi—" when Yunnie's hand clamped over her mouth before she could finish.
"Can't you at least show some gratitude?" he whispered, glancing apologetically at Flour'e.
Seon only rolled her eyes in response, muttering something inaudible behind his hand.
Yunnie leaned down to Flour'e, meeting her gaze at eye level.
Your sister has to go for now, but will you be a good child and wait for her?" he said gently.
Flour'e's face brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically.
As they prepared to leave, Flour'e's small hand tugged on Seon's sleeve.
"Sister, will you come to the festival with me and Father tomorrow?"
Seon froze, her expression unreadable as she looked down at the hopeful child.
After a pause, she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"…I can't."
*****
The sound of muffled conversations filled the air as Yunnie and Seon finally arrived at the town square, surrounded by curious townsfolk and the subtle rustling of robes.
Every pair of eyes seemed to be focused on them.
At the center of the square stood a group of people dressed in blue priest robes, heads bowed in respect—everyone, that is, except a blonde man adorned in a black and gold robe, whose posture remained straight.
With a subtle bow, the man finally spoke. "Greetings, honored Prophet."
His gaze flicked briefly toward Seon.
"We've prepared a small offering to commemorate your arrival."
Seon scanned the scene, taking in the deferential faces around him, her gaze briefly lingered on the box at the man's feet, filled with gold and gemstones. Any ordinary person would drool over such a display, but Seon only raised an unimpressed brow.
"Seriously? That's it?" she scoffed.
"Pardon...?"
Seon had experienced scenes like this many times in her past lives—when important figures would come to flatter or threaten her. The moment the tall, yellow-haired man entered, she recognized the smell of authority about him.
She wasn't fooled.
The way he held himself and how everyone deferred to him screamed of someone accustomed to fame and getting respected.
This man was different from the dark-haired fools she was currently stuck with.
He looked like a foreigner, somewhere in his thirties or forties, and his rank was evident based on how everyone, even Ortos—the supposed head bishop of the Church of Fertility—busied himself brewing tea for him.
It was almost amusing to watch the old man serve like a common attendant.
After what felt like minutes of silence, the yellow-haired man finally spoke.
"I momentarily forgot my manners." he replied. "I am the Deacon of the Church of Sea, Istar Yellowhood."
A deacon. Seon mentally rolled her eyes. In the church hierarchy, deacons ranked just above laypeople, below priests, bishops, and certainly far beneath cardinals and popes.
Yet here was the bishop of the Church of Fertility, Ortos, barely able to meet this deacon's eyes, scurrying around like a servant.
The whole dynamic amused her.
"You seem to have forgotten your manners toward the bishop as well." Seon shot back.
Istar didn't blink at her jab. "The Church of Sea has never acknowledged Lakambini as a true deity."
An obvious tension filled the room.
Faces turned hostile, and an uncomfortable silence came by. Yunnie, in particular, seemed shaken by the insult toward their goddess.
"I see."
But Seon cared little for the deity's reputation.
After hearing Istar's remark, she suspected something;
To outsiders, the Church of Fertility and their devotion to Lakambini must have seemed like a lesser religion, hardly worthy of attention.
No wonder no one dares to go against their words.
But unfortunately for them, Seon hated such people.
"Prophet Seon." Istar broke the silence as he spoke. "As the one chosen by divine will, your purpose is to guide and protect us. In these times, we ask for your assistance in the war. The strength of a Prophet could turn the tide, securing a future for the faithful."
"So please come with us," He added before ending his message with a smile. 'There's no way she can decline that-' Istar thought to himself.
Seon's gaze was unimpressed, raising her eyebrow.
"And why?" she asked flatly, "should I?"
A faint flicker of annoyance passed through Istar's eyes before he continued. "Because you are the Prophet,"
Seon realizes something- that is; this Istar guy always seem to mention her title as being a 'prophet'. Always seems to emphasize on that part.
At that, Seon rolled her eyes with exaggerated sarcasm.
"Prophet, Prophet, Prophet!" she said, almost singing the words like rhymes. "Blablabla. How stupid! You all think the same, don't you?"
She scoffed, looking Istar dead in the eyes.
"Do you actually think I'd do charity work for this 'holy mission' of yours?"
Silence remained, and no one dared to speak.
It was until one of Istar's subordinates stepped in.
"Blasphemy!" he shouted. "Are you telling us you're unwilling to fulfill the mission bestowed upon you?"
"Mission, my ass. I didn't choose to be here. I was dragged into this world, reincarnated against my will!"
A bitter laugh escaped from Seon's lips.
"I'm so angry right now, I could kill someone."
Istar's expression remained emotionless, as he raised his hands trying to halt his subordinate's reactions.
"I understand your frustrations, Prophet. But surely you must see that we have been led to you for a reason. You possess gifts that only a true Prophet can wield. If you embrace this purpose—"
"Oh, cut the speeches! Spare me the 'divine purpose' nonsense. I'm here on my terms, and I have no intention of being anyone's tool."
"Are you going against the church of sea-... no the entire Kingdom of Loerei?"
Seon's mouth curved into a wicked smile.
"How convenient! I've been dying to think of myself as a villain."