In the border town of Lerwick which sat on the edges of the Athua kingdom, there laid a small church. In the back of the church, lying down on one of the thick cotton beds was Silvio Morell.

"Silvio wake up mass is going to start in an hour!" a decrepit voice yelled at the young man

Silvio Morell, 20 years old, was an orphan from birth who had no memories of his family. His first memories being that of the old Lerwick orphanage. Born with nothing except his quick wits the young boy could barely earn enough coin to survive. His future was bleak and he would've ended up like every other kid in the orphanage a thief, a punk, or a slave. Luckily he was blessed with some talents in the divine arts. Catching the eyes of the local deacon he was adopted and began his training to serve the gods when he was 14.

His church served the religion known as the Three Paths of light. The religion followed and devoted itself to the three goddesses of light who owned sovereignty over the three paths of good. The goddess Relena, destroyer of evil, sovereign of the golden sword of justice was the leader of the three gods. Following her was the goddess Idona, the slayer of chaos, sovereign of the silver scales of order. The last goddess was the goddess Vouna, the bringer of salvation, sovereign of the white chalice of purity. The legends tell the tales of how the three goddesses pitied mortals and out of love granted them their blessings.

The divine arts of light was a blessing every member of the church could receive. Granted these divine powers all mortals reacted differently. Some fell to their knees and screamed to the sky to thank the gods for their love. Others would become fanatics who would preach the paths of light to the end of days. While many were like Silvio Morell who were merely grateful for the usefulness of divine arts and didn't give a damn about the path of good.

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"I know, I know, I'm already up you old coot."

Silvio begrudgingly rolled off his cotton bed and began preparing for his day. In his mind, he began to sort through the mindless speeches praising the goddesses that he would speak in mass today. After washing his face and combing his hair he began to look for his brown robe. He looked to the top of his room seeing his robe hanging on top of one of his room's lanterns.

He mumbled, "Damn I got to stop drinking in my room it always makes a mess." He put one hand on his heart and mumbled "Oh Sovereign of order please grant this lowly one's wish, summon the chains of order to bind the chaos."

A small silver-looking chain began to appear out of thin air and grabbed the robes from the top of the lantern. With great speed, the silver-colored chain flew about his room picking up all the items he would need for the day. A strange scene took place, as the silver chain moved with almost inhuman dexterity while cleaning up the disordered bedroom.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Such self-serving usage of divine power would be considered heresy by the more fanatic members of the church. Fortunately for Silvio, no such fanatics lived in Lerwick. Being a town on the far west border of Athua it was surrounded by marauders, monsters, and criminals. It wasn't a town for the well to do, its citizens more often or not were social outcasts, blackhearted merchants, and mercenaries hunting for gold.

Finished with his preparations Silvio walked out to the main hall. A short and chunky old man sat on a seat holding a bottle of spirits and a bag of some weird drugs. Despite his appearances, this old man was the head deacon of the church in Lerwick. Silvio walked up to the old man and bowed to the old deacon who just grunted in reply. Silvio walked away without thinking much of it moving to the podium to prepare to preach. Normally mass would be presided by a Deacon and not some inexperienced Neophyte assistant. But for old deacon Zac such a rule meant nothing if he could spend more time drinking and sniffing his pleasures. Plus in Lerwick who would punish him, the only other member of the clergy in Lerwick was just Silvio.

Soon the sun reached overhead and the town's magic clocktower rang its bells to signify noon. Finished with his preparations Silvio stood at the podium waiting for the mass members to come. Within a few minutes, the main hall of the small church was packed to the brim signaling to him to start. Opening his bible he began to preach about the tales of the three goddesses.

"In the beginning, the world was in chaos" in a monotonous tone Silvio began to preach the scriptures of the goddesses of light.

Barely 10 minutes into the mass the crowd sitting in the hall was beginning to fidget. Was it due to their overflowing devoutness to the goddess that they couldn't sit still during the preach? In some cities, this might ring true. But not in Lerwick the crowd sitting in the hall didn't look like a crowd of worshippers but more like a band of thieves. Sitting in the hall were grizzled men and women decked out with various swords, bows, staffs, and knives. It didn't help their image when almost every person there was wounded in some shape or form. Some might have guessed already but Lerwick's believer count could literally be counted on two hands. A town that is often called the resident for the wicked wouldn't hold many who believe in the path of good. The people sitting in the hall didn't come here to listen to some preaching; they came here to get healed. The three divine art branches of light were well known for their healing capabilities. The clergymen of the church were famed throughout the land for their kind and caring attitude for the injured.

Silvio feeling the discomfort and impatience in the air closed his bible.

"Alright, I've gained enough divine power get in line and take out your coins. Its 5 silvers per every minor divine heal and 20 silvers for a major divine heal. If I find that a wound is too severe I'll refer you to deacon Zac whose price varies case by case. Just a reminder even if either of us fails to completely heal the wound any complaints would be a disrespect to the goddesses and so we don't wanna hear it." He recited the statement like he was a merchant selling meats rather than a clergyman helping others. The rumored kind and caring attitude were nowhere to be seen in the young man.

The injured warriors in the hall began to glare, complain, and groan about the high prices and unfair treatments. But they were soon shut up from a quiet statement from deacon Zac.

"If you keep complaining then maybe you'll never feel the goddesses grace ever again!"

Forced to shut up by the threat the injured quietly filed in line and begrudgingly took out their coin pouches.