Chapter 49:

  Because It Is Right

  “Not a priest?” he scoffed indignantly. “You expect me to believe that? Then how do you have a Divine Domain? The Church cultivates its acolytes for years to ensure the Path even offers the choice.”

  I simply stared back at him. My silence only made him more flustered.

  He threw his hands up in a burst of frustrated disbelief.

  “How is this possible?” he demanded. “Surely the Church would have taken you in upon your awakening. Why have you been allowed to operate outside the King’s authority?”

  “Listen,” I said sharply, cutting him off before he could continue. “Are you going to help me take care of these people or not? If not, then I have a lot of work to do finding them somewhere to stay for the night. They aren’t sleeping on the streets.” I gestured toward the bandaged man nearby. “And this gentleman is in a lot of pain and needs those wounds scrubbed.”

  The young man looked taken aback by my request before repeating the words he had already shared.

  “I’ve told you,” he said, frustration edging his voice. “I can’t heal these people unless payment is provided. If I do, I’ll be punished. And if I’m punished, then there will be no one left in the city to care for those who can afford it.”

  He shook his head and added one final thought, almost pleading in its logic.

  “What other reason should I need? Why should I put myself at risk for these few, when I could stay alive and help many?

  Halius and Neil both looked to me then, as if genuinely curious to see how I would answer.

  “Because, you know it is right. What other reason should you need? If a man knows the good he ought to do and chooses not to do it, how can he sleep at night?” I shook my head slowly. “Even when it’s inconvenient. Even when it’s difficult. If it’s within your power to help, then as a good neighbor, you should. It really is that simple.”

  The young acolyte looked back at me with tears in his eyes as he wrestled with my words.

  “Father Miguel said the same thing,” he whispered. “He finally showed pity to people like these, and for weeks he treated them without asking for so much as a coin in gratitude.” His voice faltered. “When the auditors came… they… ” He swallowed hard, unable to finish the thought.

  “I don’t even know if he’s still alive,” he said quietly. “They dragged him off in the middle of the night, and I haven’t seen him in over three span.”

  I sighed, frustrated by his reluctance to help, but also understanding why he had responded to us the way that he did.

  “Look, I’m not asking you to heal anyone. I don’t even know what your abilities are. I’m just asking you to do what you can. If you’re going to be a Priest of the Path, what could be more important than helping those who cannot help themselves get back on their feet?”

  The young acolyte looked thoughtful at my words, but before he could talk himself out of it, I pressed on with practical suggestions.

  “What are your options that don’t require your abilities to help someone? Do you have food? Is there room in the church for them to stay the night? Is there anywhere we can wash this man’s arm inside, or do I need to haul him to the fountain in front of the whole city and heal him there?”

  His eyes went wide at that, panic flashing across his face. It was enough to finally stir him into action instead of circling the problem with words.

  “Yes. Alright, yes,” he said quickly. “Bring them inside. I should have room to house them for the night, though I don’t know how long term of a solution it would be.”

  I nodded and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “That’s more like it. I’ll ask Halius and Neil to help move everyone in that direction. If you don’t mind, please start preparing places for them to stays.”

  As I turned away, I paused and looked back at him, realizing there was one important thing I hadn’t asked.

  “Hey. What’s your name, by the way? My name is Sam, Sam Garner.”

  He froze, as if only now realizing he hadn’t bothered to give it before storming out to chastise us for helping people in need.

  “It’s… Arthur, Arthur Prater” he said quietly, before turning away and hurrying toward the church with an energy that hadn’t been there before. Whether it was fear or excitement, I couldn’t say. Either way, I was grateful he had chosen to hear me out rather than complicate what, to me, was a simple matter.

  Halius and Neil responded to my plan without needing to be asked, and my heart swelled with appreciation as they stepped into the alley, and began helping those who had already been healed back to their feet.

  I was once again struck by how thin and weak many of the people in the alley were. How long had it been since they’d last had a proper meal? How long had they been struggling like this? Then another thought crept in, heavier than the rest. How many others in this city were facing the same fate?

  Once today was settled, I knew exactly who I needed to speak with. This was a problem bigger than myself, and I happened to have a direct link to someone with the authority to make the necessary changes.

  It took a fair bit of time, but the remaining people in the alley were gradually moved from their hopeless situation into the warmth and security of the Church of the Path. The transition was slow and careful, marked by whispered reassurances, unsteady steps, and the soft scrape of feet against stone as those who had been left behind were guided somewhere safe at last.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The interior of the building was far more expansive than its modest exterior had suggested. Wooden beams rose high overhead, arching into a vaulted stone ceiling that gave the space an unexpected sense of openness.

  Tall panes of colored glass lined the walls, each narrow and understated, casting soft bands of muted color across the stone floor. The air inside felt cool and still, carrying the faint scent of old wood, salt, and incense that had long since burned away.

  Simple wooden pews flanked a wide central aisle, and at its far end stood a raised platform of pale stone. A single kneeling cushion rested at its center, set before a plain stone dais where a priest would stand to guide those who approached the Path.

  There was no overt grandeur here. No gilding, no towering icons, not even idols. It was a space of simplicity, shaped by the fact that most who came throughout the year to take their next step lingered only briefly after offering their coin for the service.

  Behind the platform at the far end of the hall, a narrow passage led deeper into the building. From what I could tell, it opened into modest living quarters tucked away beyond the public space, where Arthur and the former priest, Miguel, had once stayed.

  Once everyone was settled in their respective areas, I brought forward the remaining three people still in need of healing. After taking a closer look at the bandaged man’s wounds, I decided it would be more efficient to leave him for last. Instead, I turned my attention to Damien’s persistent cough and to the other remaining woman, who appeared to be suffering from the same affliction.

  Taking my time with each of them, both Damien and the woman responded positively as the potential entered their bodies and I activated Cleansing Touch.

  The woman’s breathing cleared almost immediately. She drew in an experimental lungful of air, held it for a brief moment, and then cried out in thanks, relief plain on her face. Damien responded much the same way and, once he realized the tightness in his chest was gone, he stepped forward and pulled me into a brief, earnest embrace.

  As I worked with each person, I couldn’t help but notice Arthur watching me intently from the far end of the chapel. There was a sharp intensity to the youth’s gaze, and I couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. Whether it was fear, envy, or determination, I had no way of knowing. But at the very least, I hoped he understood how much I appreciated his willingness to do the right thing.

  Finally, having taken care of everyone else, it came time to treat the man with the bandaged arms. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to, as it would require scrubbing his wounds clean, and I had no doubt the process would be painful. Still, if that was what it took to help him, then I had every intention of seeing it through.

  I took the man aside and asked Arthur to lead us to the washroom. After a brief moment of hesitation, Arthur relented and guided us into the back living quarters, where a simple sink sat beneath a rune that could summon water at a touch, warming it to whatever temperature was desired.

  I picked up a bar of soap from the counter and worked it into a lather, scrubbing my hands thoroughly as I prepared to tend to the older man’s wounds.

  “Alright,” I said evenly, “this is going to hurt like hell, but it will be worth it. Are you ready, sir?”

  The man eyed the soap and water with open apprehension before pulling a small flask from inside his coat. He took a long drink, let out a heavy sigh, and then stepped forward to receive his treatment.

  “Well, lad, I’ve done my part,” he said, punctuating the words with a faint hiccup. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The next ten minutes were excruciating to witness. The wounds were raw and sensitive, and the scrubbing burned as much as it cleaned. More than once, the old man yelled out in pain, but despite his protests I continued to clean his arms until I felt the rotted flesh had been scrubbed as thoroughly as I was able.

  Then I applied Mend Wounds, and the worst of the injuries began to stitch themselves closed. As the pain eased, there was a heavy sigh of relief from the old man, and just to be safe, I followed it with Cleansing Touch, using the two skills in tandem to purge what remained and restore his damaged flesh as thoroughly as I was able.

  As the last vestiges of potential from my reservoir flowed into the man, I sat back on the floor, and let the relief of a job well done wash over me. At the same time, I was faintly aware of yet another notification stirring at the edge of my awareness.

  Notice: Skill: Mend Wounds: is now Rank 2: level 2.

  Notice: Skill: Cleansing Touch: is now Rank 2: level 2.

  The man I had just treated stood motionless before the washroom mirror for a long while, his hands lifted as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them. He turned his arms slowly, studying the newly healed skin with a mixture of reverence and disbelief, as if any sudden movement might shatter the moment.

  His reflection told a harsher story. His beard had grown long and unkempt, framing a face hollowed by hunger and exhaustion. His clothes hung loose and threadbare, stained and frayed from weeks of neglect. Beneath it all, his body was gaunt, every sharp line and jutting bone a reminder of how long he had endured without care.

  He stood before the mirror for a long time without speaking, his hands hanging at his sides as if he no longer trusted them. The washroom was quiet save for the faint drip of water and the distant murmur of voices from the chapel beyond.

  When he finally turned, his eyes didn’t meet mine at first. They traced the floor, the walls, anything but my face, as though he were gathering the courage to say something he’d been holding in for years.

  “Young man,” he said at last, his voice rough and worn thin. “Thank you.”

  The words were simple, but they carried more weight than any praise I’d received that day.

  He swallowed and lifted his gaze, and for the first time since I’d met him, there was no anger or pride left in his eyes. Just uncertainty. Just a man standing at the edge of himself.

  “I need to ask you something,” he continued quietly. “And I need you to tell me the truth, not what you think I want to hear.”

  He hesitated, fingers curling once at his side before relaxing again.

  “Do you think it’s too late for a man like me?” he asked. “After all these years… do you think I can still make something of myself in this world?”

  I sat quietly for several moments, weighing his question. It was a heavy thing to ask, and I didn’t want to answer it lightly. Truth be told, I didn’t think I had the life experience to give a definitive answer to a question like that, especially for a man I knew almost nothing about.

  My thoughts drifted to the Old Man and to the Path itself. I wondered how he might answer such a question. He was never one to tell others who they ought to be, nor was he harsh with those who had lost their way. At least, that was the impression I had gotten after my time in the spiritual realm walking alongside him.

  “Well, sir,” I began softly, “I don’t know you. I don’t know your past, your path, or your failures. But I do know this: the path forward is always open to those who are willing to take the next step.”

  I met his eyes as I continued.

  “I can’t tell you what that looks like for you. But if you’re willing to keep moving, I have no doubt you’ll find your way to a place you can be proud of.”

  For a long moment, he said nothing.

  Then he let out a slow breath, one that seemed to carry years of weight with it. His shoulders sagged, not in defeat, but in release, as if burdens he had carried for far too long had finally been given permission to slip from his shoulders.

  “Thank you, young man,” he said again, softer this time. “I think I’m finally ready to take that next step, after all these years.”

  Somewhere deep inside me, something settled into place. It wasn’t triumph or pride, but a quiet certainty that this, too, was part of my Path as a Harvester.

  It wasn’t merely about reaping or sowing potential. It was about choosing to plant seeds of hope in those who only needed someone to believe in them.

  I had been told more than once that my tendency to see the best in people would only lead to disappointment. But moments like this reminded me why I held onto it anyway, because sometimes, belief was all it took for someone who had long felt hopeless to choose to try again.

  Mend Wounds: (Rank 2: Level 2)- Amplify the vital potential within a target in order to rapidly heal physical injuries. This skill scales with the users Spirit attribute.

  Cleansing Touch: (Rank 2: level 2)- Amplify the vital potential within a target in order to purge toxins, poisons, diseases, and other corrupting effects of a physical nature. This skill scales with the users Spirit Attribute.