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    The light breeze I felt earlier has solidified into heavy winds by the time I leave the Temple for home, making sure my colleague is set up for his shift before beginning the cold walk back to my residence. Dark strands of hair fly back and forth, smacking my face while the loose fabric of my pants whip against my legs. I hunch my back against the chill and march resolutely onward, sun steadily lowering beyond the mountains behind me. It’s really quite curious, my minds supplies, useless knowledge I learned in school still taking up space in my head. Vast doesn’t resort to windstorms often, unless she feels someone has wronged her. Granted, she is one of the more… volatile Deities.


    I’m considering the merits of catching the train and getting home sooner as I hear the first shout from an alleyway just in front of me, echoed by a resounding smack. I’m quick to hurry forward, looking around the corner to see a man crouched on the ground, blond hair falling over his face as he reaches up one hand to a reddening cheek. Another man is clutching a tight fist, glaring down at the first. His voice is angry when he speaks, venom dripping from the words.


    “I don’t know what you think you’re doing messing with me, but I’ll have you know I am a disciple of Fertility herself. I am not a beggar, and I am not interested in fraternizing with a Connectionless,” He shudders, as if the very thought repulses him, and it’s then when I notice the small gold flecks of coins scattered over the cobblestones. He continues, as if his previous words weren’t enough to get his point across. “And I don’t even want to think about the nerve you have to put your hands on me, grabbing at me as if I could ever-”


    “Hey!” I step forward, ignoring the tugging in my gut that tells me to run, run, run, far away from this man, from all the other bullies who think of us as less simply because we haven’t found out Connection. “That’s enough. You’ve said your piece, now leave and let this man pick himself up and get home. This weather is far too unpleasant to be standing outside in,” I try to reason, noticing the way his nose and cheeks are flushed pink. He turns to face me, scowling as if he’s smelt something sour.


    “Oh yeah? And whose fault is that? It’s obviously people like him, who are angering the Deities enough that they’re trying to rid of them. I’m just doing my duty and a citizen, after all.” He eyes me up and down, as if anything on my figure could somehow show what Deity I belong to. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you’re one of them,” He snarls, standing up straighter and taking a step towards me. “Got a whole saviour complex, don’t’cha? Want to save the poor, “helpless” man from a bully?” The tugging in my gut grows stronger, run, run, RUN.


    “And so what if I am?”


    His hand flies towards me with a lunge, and I bolt, slipping on wet stones as my feet fly back down the street, and when did it start raining? I don’t know, all I know is the feeling of danger and fear and run. This isn’t the first time this has happened, not in the slightest, my instincts battling between fight and flight, the twinge in my chest whenever people degrade my fellow Connectionless for something they can’t help.


    I hear a shout behind me, and feet pounding behind me, and I keep running, fleeing from a situation I provoked further than it probably every would’ve gone.


    But it might’ve, my mind betrays, rationalizing my countless rash decisions. At least if the man is chasing you, he’s not further agonizing that poor soul in the alley. Yeah, maybe. But I might also die for it.


    I look up to find myself approaching the pillars of the Temple, my feet guiding me there without any other thought. My legs are tiring, face stung with wind and rain and my clothes are almost transparent with how soaked through I am. Removing my shoes, I lean against a pillar in the cover of a small ledge, breathing deeply. Athleticism has never been my strong suit. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


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    Not knowing what else to do, or if I’m still being trailed, I step back inside the building, Ren immediately noticing me and frowning from where’s she typing away on the computer.


    “Enna, what in the world are you doing here? Is the weather really that bad?”


    I shake my head, wearily setting myself down on the spare seat next to the desk.


    “No, sorry. Tried to stop a fight, dude moved in to hit me, I bolted. Ran here.”


    She simply sighs, looking at me with exasperation. “Enna, you cannot keep doing that. I know you feel annoyed when people hurt others like you but it’s not your fight. You’re going to get yourself killed, and I’d rather that not happen near me,” she says, as her fingers tap absentmindedly on the table. Seeming to decide on something, she opens a drawer and hands me a candle.


    “Listen, I know you think it’s useless, but go light a candle for Love and pray. Pray that you’ll finally be able to stop with these pointless fights and interventions and think for once. Okay?”


    She hands me the long stick of wax and ushers me onward. The doubt in my features is clear, but I continue anyway, her Attribute always making me feel more open when I’m around her, because it’s not like it can make anything any worse. I’ve prayed to every Deity, lit candles, made sacrifices, but nada. Not even an inkling of any sort of attachment. Nobody has been able to decide if the Deities can hear prayers from those without Connection, if they can even tell we exist, but I’m at my wits end and so is Ren, so is everyone, so what could a simple offering hurt?


    Reaching the first empty chamber, I enter and shut the wooden door behind me. The rooms are not nearly as occupied as they usually are during the day, disciples mixed with couples,fiancées, people hoping for a bit of a beauty lift before big days. It’s been months since I was here myself, except to show someone where to go. I close my eyes for a moment, soaking in the soft light and shimmering walls. Lighting the candle with a match, I lay it in the centre of the cool floor and kneel.


    What am I even doing? I think, staring down at my bedraggled self. Working in a Temple, getting into fights, ignoring people I used to call my friends. What went wrong? What do I do?


    Somewhere along the way my thoughts have turned into spoken word, and I run a pale hand through my knotted curls. “It shouldn’t be such a big deal, people get harassed all the time, and I would probably be fine if I didn’t intervene. Am I actually doing anything other than just escalating the situation? I’ve never been attacked myself, but I keep ending up worse off than anyone else because of my stupid fight impulse. I know you can’t hear me, probably don’t care, but what am I supposed to do?”


    My eyes are shut, and I sigh, deep. My heart rests in the same pattern it did two minutes ago, my head still races, the ground is cool against my knees through the fabric of my clothes. “What am I supposed to do?”


    I sit there for a moment, a part of me hoping that maybe, just maybe I’ll get some response. Some sign, a feeling, something to tell me I might be lucky. But nothing happens, because nothing will ever happen. My life is pre-destined, and I’m alone. Like I always will be, like I’ve accepted I’ll be.


    I take one more deep breath, push of the ground, and roll back my shoulders. Then I turn to blow out the candle, and see a man standing at the door, fingers gently waving away the smoke of an already extinguished flame.


    Jumping back, I stare at him suspiciously. His hair is long, tied up in a knot at the nape of his neck and clean shaven. The lightest eyes I’ve ever seen stare back at me, somehow piercing and gazing wide all at once. He’s wearing a loose suit, shirt flowy, jacket unbuttoned. His head tilts as he remains saying nothing, and I step back once. For the first time in years, the urge to fight is in the back of my mind, replaced instead with the core knowledge this is something powerful.


    I sink to my knees slowly, keeping my eyes on his face, but not daring to stare straight into those eyes again. He simply hums once, looking pensive.


    “Hidden beneath the ground in Dark. The curtains in the group chamber, look there. You’ll find a passageway.”


    Huh? I stare dumbly at him, shocked enough to sit back. He just chuckles, nods at me, and turns to leave.


    “Who are you?” I make out, my words stilling the air around us. without turning, he responds calmly. “Who do you think?”


    It’s phrased like an actual question, like he’s curious to know the answer, but before I can say anything else, the air ripples and he disappears without a sound.