Faith and belief were crucial to most residents of Errarion, specifically the Mainland.

That speck of light allowed them to continue with their day. A familiar bird sat atop the nearby windowsill and the clouds weaved together, soon uncovering the sky, yet things only shone brighter when someone was to find reason behind them.

It could've been deities as a way out of reach for a simple human, let alone a demon who strayed a different path, but, for Morians, it was Shin, a being characterized by showing signs of its existence with patterns and lights from above and divine gifts sent to his most benefited people.

Strangely enough, Morians don't go by any titles, and some even get offended when they get called mister or missus, and the same thing applies to Shin. It's not Mighty Shin, Oh Shin, or anything along those lines, it's just his name. To many that may suggest that Shin, despite being a deity on a higher level than those who stood on the ground, was a friend to all Morians: a helping hand in need and someone who listened to your questions and provided answers, dug you out of the deepest holes and reached to the skies.

The faith in Shin and the idea of churches being built for a God began around when Mistwick first came to be. It shouldn't be a surprise that the smallest town is the one that started it all, formed by the first Morians, which back then resembled Erans. They often relayed stories of the lights above that carved a path towards the place where he was instructed to cut down the first trees and build a new humanity, from scratch.

More writings began to appear over the years, now stored in small libraries all over Shimori. They described tales of people tempted by the devil but never giving in.

One such story told of a small adventure one of the younger Morians took, setting out towards the then-unnamed Century Valley. The Morian was caught in a snowstorm, and for the next three days desperately tried everything to find his way back home, but never succeeded. Almost frozen to death, he saw the colourful lights in the skies, playing atop a dark background, turning into arrows pointing his way back home, yet, he couldn't budge a finger, and the creatures which roamed the area were very keen on his blood and skin.

Then, a miracle happened, which blessed the little Morian's heart and gave him the energy he needed to run. He made it past the junipers, pines, conifers, and firs and onto slopes and hills leading back to town. He tripped on a few rocks, but that didn't deter him from standing up once more and finally making it back home.

People often looked back on the older books and found it funny how much one's running could change. Some say that facing consequences instead of turning a blind eye to them was the way to go, but not in the olden world.

Some believed that Shin gave that boy a part of his soul, leading him to live a long and bountiful life. However, the boy didn't want to be known for such tales. He wanted to be seen as just one among his peers, at least to other Morians.

Due to living well past the age most Morians pass at (about 120 years old), he changed his name a few times before going back to the Bancho he always was.

Living by Shin's rules, he gave up his second name and finally named the town after the story which brought him a life he would've never expected. After all, to him, he was just another Morian amongst a back-then, small group of individuals.

They cherished his accomplished goals, and his unbroken determination, and at a young age, crowned him as their leader. However, stories such as these faded into obscurity, with more and more Morians coming to life and more and more passing, while Bancho stayed behind.

Through moments of mourning for those close to him, he still had one thing that kept him going. Shin still rested by his side.

Moving quietly through dreams, he scattered seeds into the flowing rivers, lit a fire, gazed at the sky, and erected a likeness of his friend in a church. When in doubt, he'd lock himself in, light a small fire in an ikura (a bowl of crushed seeds and twigs, now more commonly used for enhancing taste), put his hands together and speak whatever came to his mind, and knew that Shin listened, leaving him small signs of hope that brought a smile to his esteemed face.

He had a family, which he outlived, but cherished the happy moments they had. He made friends in different regions, which were unfortunate enough to fall under the hands of demons. He and three other people formed the Wise and that may be a story for another day, perhaps.

Mistwick still lived by the rules one of Shin's messengers established. Wendigo has mostly abandoned faith, but if you were to ask one of the drunken Morian residents on Entertainment Street or between buildings on Milagro and Guvia they'd tell you they believe in Shin too. Once a year, during the Yule Solstice (a massive wave of snow that doesn't melt away as easily on the 24th and 25th day of the season), the people in Wendigo lighted candles or ikuras and placed them on small wooden pedestals, letting them sail to the unknown seas.

Some considered such a competition for whatever reason, betting loads of Silver that their little ship would swim the furthest, while others used this opportunity to reconsider their stance and remember their more humble roots.

As for Magna, Shin has gone amiss. Same case here that if you were to ask someone they'd be offended that you'd assume it was anything else but Shin, but no one did anything to "prove" their faith, as some of the more devoted believers would tell you.

Magnanians often thought of Morians from Mistwick as these crazy religious people and the ones closer to royalty were louder about the said topic, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Most Shin believers are very calm and peaceful, as opposed to, for example, the Erans who are very loud and clear about God's hands and gospels, and many took that example as the definitive answer to the question of how a devoted believer acted.

Faith itself was never a bad thing, as Bancho once said. It was more about whether you decided if that belief stayed by your side, or ruled your entire life.

***

477 A.F.W., 1st of Yule.

The beginning of a new year was always marked by the first day of Yule, and in some places that new and fresh start was celebrated with a large gathering, drinks and dinners inside cosy buildings, under tents or rooftops.

In Magna, the most prominent and important figures of the town (Eryk and Lamon) gathered on the main square amongst a plethora of people. Then, Eryk gave a rather mellow and long speech about the upcoming prosperities of the year, and as one would've guessed, everyone moved into Ella's bar, leaving her hands tied. This year was different, however, as Elton stayed in Shimori for whatever reason, later excusing his lengthened residency with family problems that he wanted to avoid. He often helped Ella in the bar as he had nothing better to do.

Such wasn't the only change that was noticeable this year, as Eryk's speech was greatly shortened and the snarky smirk that painted his face was gone, in place of a rather upset frown, but those waiting for their first drink of the year couldn't care less. With the first strengthened waves of snow, showing signs of the solstice, many Morians celebrated in one way or another.

That is, except for Anna-Pom, who stayed behind in the Lockum Mountains, even after the whole ordeal with Shi Hon. The paths that twisted and winded back and forth led to a conclusion that until a decision was made, she had enough time to continue her training, now more determined than ever.

She thought of the idea of beating the strongest demon in with a rope and chuckled deviously, working harder, and unsurprisingly enough, cutting contact with everyone. No messages, no "songs of the birds", as some Demonears thought that they could relay one piece of information to another with those singing animals. Anna-Pom had disappeared, and Ella started to worry, as another year passed without Anna by her side.

Bancho was an easy-goer, fading into the mountains she was denied access to, (oddly enough, he wasn't aware she joined them in the first place) and the few Tributals that followed her out of Magna because they wanted to play tabletop games in bars without alcohol since they took a liking to her personality, were brushed off by the harsh colours of Herbes changing into a hot Gorro.

She returned to Lockum and set up a big tent on a small grey plateau, not far from the tops of the Whiteburn Mountains. She had pots and a small river a kilometre away from her base, that served as the motivation to get up and have her first drink of the day. Then, if she wasn't training, she'd skilfully hop down from the sharp rocks of Lockum into either the Uvo Forest or the trees surrounding Century Valley, searching for seeds and other foods, seldom slaying animals.

On the days she trained, though, she focused all her power on the tasks before her. She eventually learned to hop from one rock to another, up to five times and above large gaps that had dried-out blood stains on the sides, from all the crashes she'd experienced. She learned to swing the rope the way she did all those years ago, back in her prime. It was long, and the key was to let it sway freely above, in a circular motion so it wouldn't lose the established tempo and the thwung it was about to deal with.

Her strikes grew much more powerful, destroying sleet-covered boulders, and at one point she realised that with the strength she currently possessed, she would've been able to effortlessly defeat Isak, which she bragged in her mind about.

However, through all those positives, a negative shined. There was one hurdle she couldn't overcome, and even though she got closer day by day, her motivation quickly deflated each time things didn't work out.

"It's a move I could pull off easily all those years ago," she muttered, recollecting her notions, standing on top of a sharp rock, with both her hands stuck out near the sides, one constantly spinning the rope. Before her stood four evenly spaced rocks, sticking out from above darker terrain.

She closed her eyes, before striking, and the rope swooped around the first rock, and then the second, but couldn't reach the third, wrapping around a smaller stone below. She sighed, opening her eyes. "Damn it," she uttered.

Her goal was to weave around four of those rocks in a slalom-like pattern: first right, second left, third right. This might've seemed like an unnecessary challenge, but it served a practical purpose for Anna-Pom and was part of what still tied her to the Lockum Mountains.

Her Guardian Demon, the Rhapsody Rope, activated its earthly abilities upon certain patterns appearing with the way she operated her weapon, one such being the earthly squeeze she successfully performed on Isak, the other being the thwung against the ground which pulled out some of the dirt from below. But her third and final attack, possibly the strongest went amiss.

After another unsuccessful attempt, Anna-Pom started treading down the hill, and slowly towards her tent, reminiscing over a drawn picture of her and Ella, sitting together at the Midcity bar.

She squeezed the paper in her hand, breathed out and put it back into one of her many pockets.

"For you," she muttered.

But, the frustration was quickly replaced with something else, as a high-pitched scream sounded around the Lockum Mountains, echoing into her ears. Anna-Pom's eyes shrunk, and before she moved in leaps.

Skipping through sharp tops and round boulders, she made it past the high roads of Lockum, and down a slope, following the hints of noise, which only seemed to get further away, finally, though, she stopped, sliding her feet down into the dusty dirt and crushed rocks.

She glanced to the side, breathing in and out slowly, before sliding towards a small pool of blood which lay on the ground. She blinked before crouching and then put her fingers into the liquid, smelling the moistened, oddly metallic scent.

Anna-Pom closed her eyes, before turning upwards, hearing faint noises of child-like whimpering. She carefully trod forward, and the sight was nowhere near a surprise to her, yet, her jaw dropped in shock.

There was a child, lying behind the thick stones, on his side, pressuring a big wound on his stomach. His clothes were dirty, and way too thin for a typical Shimori Yule. His hair was a light blonde, and his eyes were big and shining, which went back to how Anna-Pom expected a Morian to look. She had so many questions, yet no answers, and simply raised her voice.

"Oi," she uttered, and the kid alerted, turned to his back, breathing heavily and looking into her dark blue eyes.

"H-Help," he muttered, raising his arm, and Anna-Pom immediately caught it, helping him up. The child was small enough for her to carry, but oddly heavy enough to weaken both of her shoulders. Skillfully, she pushed her Guardian Demon with her leg, causing it to land elsewhere, and then stepped out of the small hole the two were in.