The First Letter (57)

The temple's corridors were quiet. Those who sought the gods generally loved silence.

The more desperate people became, the more they forgot language. It was the same principle that made a parent who had lost a child sound more like a howling beast than a human being.

The stronger an emotion grew, the more of it remained impossible to put into words. An emotional torrent that crossed all bounds could not be defined by a single name or sorted into separate emotions. Only the person experiencing it could feel it keenly; no one else could ever fully understand it.

That was why people went to temples in search of the gods. Only a god could understand and recognize their burned and wounded hearts. It was also why the house of the Celestial God Arus had to remain open at all times to those who were suffering and in pain.

I was no different as I waited in the corridor. I was silently contributing to the temple's silence.

It was not some searing emotion that had sealed my lips. I simply felt too wretched and stifled to want to say anything.

Objectively speaking, Seria's injury was not particularly deep. It must have been an accident; even Celin had looked visibly flustered.

As we made our way to the temple, Seria, supported by me, spoke hesitantly.

“S-Senior?”

“Yeah, Seria.”...