And Kaya… Kaya didn't just not believe. The god in this world made her skin crawl.
The first time she went to check the last wedding preparations, Veer practically dragged her down to the tribe's small shrine, nagging her to "just look once and say it's fine." The "idol" waiting there was barely a shape: a cylindrical stone carved in two eye‑like hollows, nothing else. Other households had different stones—triangles, odd shapes—but always the same primitive "face."
It looked like someone had just grabbed any rock, poked two eyes in, and called it divine.
The moment Kaya's gaze landed on it, something inside her snapped.
A hot, ugly rage surged up out of nowhere, so sharp she had to lock her jaw to keep from snarling. Her hand clenched into a fist on instinct. Nails dug into her palm deep enough to break skin, leaving bloody crescents. If not for the herbs still cycling through her system, the wound wouldn't have sealed that fast.
Everything in her screamed 'do not bow'.
