Sem noCandles, Vigilantes, and the Shadow of Shameme

The "Sacred Vigil" was a traditional event that, according to Lúcia, "purified the soul, strengthened the spirit, and warmed the heart." For Liora, it felt more like prolonged torture with singing, kneeling, and far too many overly perfumed candles.

"Inner light, outer light… harmony, chastity, and radiance…" everyone chanted in unison inside the village chapel, while Liora counted the minutes until she could sleep. Answer: infinite.

Beside her, Morian held an incense burner with the grace and irony of someone who had led far less chaste cults.

"You're taking this way too seriously," Liora muttered between chants.

"I'm undercover. I take everything seriously when I'm pretending to be holy," he replied, smiling at a passing nun. The poor woman blushed.

On the other side of the chapel, Valério was organizing young paladins, all in flawless posture with eyes gleaming with devotion and innocence. Liora felt like a cockroach in a stained-glass museum.

Everything was going… relatively fine, until the "spontaneous confessions" segment began.

"If anyone feels the need for purification, come to the altar and speak. There is no judgment under the light," announced an old priest who looked like a sentient carrot.

That's when Morian, of course, raised his hand.

Liora nearly choked on her own soul.

"I have something to confess," he said, in a voice so soft and humble it could win acting awards.

All eyes turned to the "exemplary spiritual mentor."

Liora wanted to throw herself into the nearest candle fire.

"In my youth… I was a bit of a rebel," he began, with a melancholic expression. "I got involved with… questionable groups. Studied alternative magics. Held grudges. But… I found the light."

The nuns wept.

Valério nodded solemnly. "Redemption is the greatest gift of the light!"

Liora seriously considered converting to atheism.

"And today, I see in this young girl"—he pointed at her with the emotion of a prophet—"a chance to guide someone toward a better path. Just as the light guided me."

The audience applauded. Liora smiled. Or more accurately, twisted her mouth in a silent scream of despair.

Later, in the chapel's tea room, while everyone ate honey cakes and talked about miracles, Liora dragged Morian into a corner.

"Do you have a death wish?"

"Why? My performance was good, wasn't it?"

"Good? You almost confessed to being the Antichrist with extra sugar!"

"I considered using that name but thought it might be too much."

She rubbed her temples. "If someone else reincarnated into a sacred family, we need to find them. Before they start a cult or… a singing group."

"I've heard rumors," Morian replied, grabbing a cake. "A prodigy boy who heals with his hands and floats when excited. Sound familiar?"

Liora's eyes widened. "Azark?"

"Renamed 'Luziel.' Lives in the main temple of the capital. Already gaining disciples."

"Of course he is. He always had that annoying 'follow me or suffer' vibe."

Morian took a bite of the cake. "So, when do we leave?"

"We?"

"You'll need a respectable spiritual mentor."

"I need a spiritual sedative!"

Just then, Lúcia approached with her usual angelic smile. "Darlings, how about a trip to the capital? The temple is holding a festival with blessings, relics, and—"

"We're in," Morian said before Liora could scream "NO."

And so, with a fake smile and a suitcase full of problems, Liora prepared to head to the capital—where another ex-demon awaited her with fake wings and uplifting speeches.

She could already feel the holy headache coming.

The Capital Festival promises sacred relics, miracles, and a parade of ex-demonic reunions. Liora will have to face her past, her faith, and possibly a choir of former infernal coworkers trying to play harp in public…