Summer of the year 13xx.
Viktor, an amateur priest back then who was lucky enough to be picked up by the pope from the slums, was tightly holding onto his shoulder, biting his lower lip, while feeling the throbbing pain in his spine after being shoved against the wall.
"Argh!"
He groaned silently, enduring the pain from his body.
"Tsk! Next time, watch where you're going, orphan!"
The boy smirked like a devil before he walked away with his puppets beside him.
Although the temple was known to be a heavenly place for everyone, not all were treated right. For Viktor, everything was worse than hell itself. Not everyone there was kind without gaining something in exchange; he knew it because, apart from being treated like the wind by the others, half of his body was covered in bruises made by the people inside the temple.
"Ha—lucky me. I wasn't beaten as badly as yesterday."
He sighed in relief, holding onto his shoulder when blood suddenly ran down his nose, staining his vest.
"I need to get this clean before Father sees me."
He hurriedly picked up the golden cup that had fallen to the floor and rushed to the large fountain in the garden, frantically wiping the red stains from his clothes.
'This will have to do!'
He thought, dusting himself off before he heard footsteps approaching. In panic, Viktor immediately hid himself behind the trees, finding himself eavesdropping on their conversation.
"I couldn't believe it's happening again!"
One of the priests exclaimed, filling his cup with water from the fountain.
"This time the temple will surely get lots of blessings from the goddess."
The old man chuckled, excited to prepare for the annual feast dedicated to the moon goddess—a tradition upheld every year.
Though no one had ever seen her, everyone claimed that her beauty was blinding, just like the moon, ethereal and captivating, making you want to keep it all to yourself.
Before they turned to leave, the deacon mentioned Viktor's name, prompting him to peek out behind the tree.
"Right... Viktor, that kid. How is he doing?"
"Not causing trouble, is he?"
The pope paused, glancing at the golden cup Viktor had dropped.
"I think he's grateful enough to be taken out of the slums."
The pope claimed, leaning down to pick up the cup.
"Right, Viktor?"
Viktor, who was hiding behind the tree beside the fountain, slowly snuck closer before revealing himself to them.
Anxiety flickered in his eyes as he averted his gaze toward the pope.
"You do know that there are a lot of kids in the world who want your position, but they are not lucky enough to be chosen as you. That's why you should never forget where you came from; after all, we're all humans bound by greed and sin."
Viktor gulped with trembling hands as the pope handed him the cup, while receiving a warning laced with sarcasm—a reason for Viktor to stay in the shadows, keeping silent about their abuse.
"Is there something bothering you, my son? You can tell me all your burdens."
Though his voice was calm, an icy chill crept down Viktor's back.
"It's nothing, Father."
He forced a smile.
"I will forever be grateful that a child like me was taken care of by the temple."
"I will always be indebted."
The pope smiled, pleased with Viktor's words.
"Then I suppose you have to go now. Make sure to eat dinner before going to bed."
His eyes then glint.
"Do not wander around before dawn and remember to always close your windows and doors."
"I will, Father..."
As he turned away, he could still feel the cold stares of the priests on his back, watching him as he walked toward the hall of the canteen.
After placing the cup on the altar dedicated to the goddess he hardly believed in, he stepped inside the hall to find everyone staring at him with disgust and judgment. Though he was used to it, their intense gazes made him anxious, forcing him to lower his head as if it were glued to the floor.
"I'm sorry, Viktor, I didn't know you hadn't gotten yours yet."
The lady serving food stated, shaking her head as the others smirked.
"No, it's fine. Just in time; I'm not that hungry."
He replied, faking a smile.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded and quickly left the hall.
Walking towards the garden, he could clearly hear his stomach grumbling, a familiar sound he had grown accustomed to. But this time, he hadn't even eaten breakfast, causing dizziness to overwhelm him, making him to lost his balance as he fainted under the tree...
Amidst the haze, a rumor of the saintess floated through his mind.
"If you take the goddess's jeweled heart, all your wishes will be granted!"
A rumor that others believed, which he only found amusing, dismissing them as mere tales, as it seemed too good to be true to believe it was real. Though if Viktor could possibly make a wish with it, having an easy life was all he would wish for.
"Argh!"
He groaned as he tried to open his eyes, but as soon as he did, regret flooded over him.
"What could a mortal be doing here?!"
She smiled, giving the dark place a presence of her light.
"Do you want to play with me?"
As his vision cleared, he was left speechless. The place was dim, yet she glowed like moonlight, just like a firefly bewitched by the fire.