Humans were not precision machines. As long as someone was human, they would make mistakes, and once they did, they had to make amends.
Elena still had a chance. For certain others, that was harder to say.
"Ah..."
A heavy sigh, as though laden with every raindrop that had yet to fall before the harvest season, rolled out of Priest Crawford's rounded chest.
He was sitting in a crude, creaking country carriage. It rocked along the rutted dirt road, gently swaying his stocky body with it.
His round face, habitually wreathed in a warm smile, was now unusually clouded with worry. His brows knotted together, and even the soft flesh beneath his chin seemed especially heavy.
Deeply troubled, Crawford instinctively touched the smooth, earth-colored holy emblem on his chest. In the past, it had always brought him peace and strength, but now it weighed on his heart like a heavy stone.
His superiors had given Crawford an assignment. He should have been spreading the Earth Mother Goddess's glory through the villages of Votradnoi, strengthening the farmers' faith and leaving no opening for the Goddess of Agriculture's missionaries. Instead, he had to return to Votradnoi immediately.
The assignment made his heart pound with dread. He even found it faintly absurd.
What was it?
To make amends for the church's mistake, plead with Prince Chris, and save the newly appointed High Priest, Byron Thorne.
Just thinking of High Priest Byron left Crawford scratching his head.
He did not know Byron very well. Rumor described him as a good man, a devout believer who loved the land and cared for farmers. Every wrinkle on his face supposedly resembled a plowed furrow, etched with reverence for the Earth Mother Goddess.
But... was that true?
Crawford did not think so. Truly sincere priests preached among