The night was long, Sungjoo sleeping fitfully and waking in the morning to find that he was more tired than he had been the night before. He sat on the edge of his bed, still dressed in only his bedclothes, his brown hair sticking up at odd angles all around his head. He had dreamt, dark dreams of Kergisa and her displeasure, and though he was pretty sure that they had come from his own mind, he couldn't be positive. His goddess was not one to suffer fools, and she taught that any kindness was a fool's act. Anyone being kind was sure to have their own motives, while anyone accepting kindness was being played for all their worth. He knew better than to disagree with her, but he couldn't help but to always wonder if there wasn't something that could challenge her teaching. Not that his own experience hadn't taught him that Kergisa's view was the correct way.

Lysrai was the one that most considered to be the opposite of Kergisa. The goddess of beauty taught that everything and everyone was perfect and beautiful in their own way, each with a purpose to be fulfilled. Sungjoo had been drawn to her as a youngster, enticed by her gentle and loving manner that the teachings spoke of her to have. He should have known better than to believe it true. The goddess herself might be so welcoming, but her followers were not. Sungjoo frowned at the memory of being chased from Lysrai's temple by her acolytes, angry that such a dirty child had dared to enter their goddess's dwelling. 

And then there was the goddess of war, Therisa. She taught that strength and power were what counted in the world, that if one could not take what they desired, they were below her notice. Therisa's followers were made up of warriors, men and women who had the physical and mental prowess to beat down anyone who stood in their way. No, their path could never be Sungjoo's own, even if he were not already following Kergisa's bidding. He had strong, wide shoulders but a slender build in general, which no amount of food and training could seem to add mass amounts of muscle onto. His lithe form added to his ability to move quickly, though, and he was naturally acrobatic, lending well to his chosen course. Therisa frowned upon assassins, teaching that they were merely cowards who dared not face battle and had no honor. Sungjoo had to disagree with that; while he could never face one of Therisa's followers in an open fight, he was pretty sure of his ability to kill them using the many tricks he'd been taught.

The fourth deity of the people of Atherpefta was the goddess of the weak, one that Sungjoo had turned to for help once long ago. Siakera was supposed to help anyone in need, to appear as a loving and kind mother who would heal the wounds and sorrows of those who wholeheartedly asked her assistance.

Maybe Sungjoo's questioning of her existence had stopped her from helping him, but he would never forget that moment. He had been so sick and unable to care for his small brother, Seungyeon, and as a last resort they had gone to the White Temple. Siakera's faces had looked down on the brothers as they stumbled into her halls, both starving and sickly, with no parents thanks to the war ravaging the streets of their city. Sungjoo had fallen on his knees at the statue of the goddess, a carved woman clad in flowing robes, and begged her mercy for his brother's sake. He had fallen asleep at her feet, only to wake and find that Seungyeon had passed on in the night hours, leaving Sungjoo alone in an un-kind world.

He had cursed Siakera then and there, leaving her temple with his brother's body, intent to never return.

Like many of Atherpefta's citizens, Sungjoo had been determined to live without worshiping any of the deities. They had shown how little they cared for those who cried for their help, so what made them worthy of worship? Kergisa, though, had stepped in to intercept him, and through her teachings he had found a way to empty the pain from his own soul. Some days he thought that he might actually be empty of a soul at all, and yet he couldn't find himself to care. 

He had angered his goddess, and he must make it right. Starting with the boy in the marketplace. He would find him and... something. He wasn't sure yet, but Sungjoo knew he had to find a way to appease his goddess's anger. Standing from his small bed, he dressed quickly in a plain grey tunic and black pants before pulling on his well-worn brown boots. He paused for a moment to try and settle his messy, too long hair before he gave up, and moved out of his chambers into the temple hallways. 

As was typical with the mornings, the temple was bustling with petitioners - people seeking a way to