Ten years ago, a child was abandoned in front of the local village church.
Immediately, loud cries startled Father Jonio awake, but he immediately understood what was happening.
Still young, the priest was a firm believer of the greater good and in altruistic deeds, so he hurriedly clothed himself and got out as soon as possible.
Sure enough, a small crib was left on the front porch of the church.
The hot air was accentuating the natural redness a newborn baby's skin possessed, plus the loud cries, the small human almost looked like a chubby demon.
A simple wooden cross was present between its small arms in such a way the baby couldn't shake it off.
Today, ten years later, that same baby was running around, his eyes locked at a floating butterfly, the wooden cross hunging by his neck.
"Raphael, come inside, today the local lord is going to do an inspection of the village."
The silly grin of the boy immediately vanished, replaced by a serene smile instead, as he headed for the church he and his foster father could call home.
Half an hour later, a carriage stopped by the church.
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A woman alighted from it, helped by her entourage.
She was as ugly as everyone else, but a strong smell of perfume and heavy makeup combined with a wig and decorated clothes gave her an air no commoner could ever hope to match.
A modern eye would nonetheless notice the decadence and the falseness behind it all and would struggle to pick which between her and the commoners by the side was less vomit inducing.
"Let me go inside alone. The house of God will never harm the faithful. Plus, father Jonio is one of the best when it comes to generosity and the seven holy virtues."
The chief of the entourage bowed his back, deference must have been clear in his eyes.
"As you wish, my lady."
After entering and exchanging a couple of pleasantries with the now nearly forty years old priest, the young lady of maybe thirteen years old or so asked with an embarrassed but bold face:
"Forgive me father, but I have sinned. I need to confess in privacy."
A stern face appeared on father Jonio.
"I understand, follow me to my private booth.
Raphael, stay here. The confession is a sacred moment, no one can interfere when I commune to God."
Raphael had an equally stern gaze on him.
"I understand."
After an hour and a half or so, the moans bordering on shrill cries that could almost be mistaken for cries of pain, if not for the periodic calling of God to express her thanks, finally stopped.
The young lady finally exited the house of God with smeared makeup and strange smell, but an unwavering content expression.
The chief of her entourage had heard her cries and must have known of her efforts, clearly his lady was a true faithful of God.
He greeted her with that same deferent bowed back, so low that his face couldn't be seen.
Like that the noble visit had come to pass.
God overseeing it all and approving of it.
So many faithfuls!
Raphael gripped his wooden cross, unknowingly making it glow slightly.
One day he will become one of them, bringing the voice of God everywhere His gaze landed upon.