Chapitre 160: The Vicar Of Vallon-de-Grâce

OF ALL THE FAITHFUL in the lands of Eldoria, no one really knew whom, or what the [Martyr] was.

For any devout you asked, the simple answer was that they had been worshipping the cowled saviour since they could remember, their fathers before them. And their father's fathers even before. Who were they to question their God's truth. He, manifested miracles.

No one could say if the Martyr was male or female.

They figured the creator was too supreme to be of a single gender. Omnipotent. And omniscient. So when they made statues of the Martyr, it was with a cowl. An immaculate androgynous veil that hid out their God's divine face. The same saintly, shrouded figure of opal marble—with benevolent arms stretched out—now loomed in front of Rafel by the darkly enchanted corridor of the quiet church.

The Martyr's eyes no one could boast they had seen. Not even the most servile monk.