As Aria, Elenor, and Cassian strolled through the desolate streets of Thalebrook, they felt the weight of the village’s decay pressing down on them. Broken cobblestones littered the path, and the faint, acrid scent of smoke lingered in the air. Shadows clung to the crumbling buildings, which looked as though they had been abandoned for years. Yet here and there, villagers shuffled past, eyes downcast, as though resigned to their misfortune.

Aria’s heart ached as she looked around, clutching the small satchel of prayer scrolls and healing herbs she had brought. When she noticed a man sitting by the side of the road, his head resting on his hands, she felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps here was someone who would listen. She approached him with a gentle smile.

"Good day, friend," she began softly, her voice calm and soothing. "I come bearing the teachings of Soter, to share his peace and offer—"

The man interrupted her with a scowl, not bothering to lift his head fully. "Don’t need another one of you preaching to me. Already had my fill," he muttered, waving a hand to dismiss her.

Aria blinked, taken aback. "Another missionary? But... we are the only ones from Soter's order in this village."

The man snorted, finally lifting his head to look at her with tired eyes. "Maybe that’s what you think. She called herself a missionary, like you. Said Soter was her guide, but something about her… she was dressed more like a street rat than a saint.

Aria exchanged a glance with Elenor and Cassian, unease settling over them. Who could this mysterious "missionary" be? Their minds raced with questions, but the man waved them off before they could ask more, muttering under his breath as he returned to his slouched position. They took a few hesitant steps away, the strange encounter weighing heavily on them.

Determined to find answers, they made their way to the village’s dilapidated temple, hoping that the once-sacred place might hold some clue. As they approached, however, they stopped in their tracks, astonishment painting their faces.

There, in front of the crumbling shrine, stood a young woman. Dark, messy curls framed her face, and her intense gaze was fixed on the curious few who had gathered to listen. It was Mailys, the thief they had encountered the day before.

Mailys raised her arms high, her voice echoing across the decaying stones of the old shrine as a flicker of fire danced in her eyes.

"Brothers! Sisters! All of you—listen! I was like you once, lost, forgotten, clinging to shadows and sins that did nothing but drag me deeper into the darkness. I was a thief, a trickster, a soul without purpose!"

She paused, letting the silence sink in as the crowd shifted, some averting their gaze, others leaning in despite themselves.

"But then," she continued, her voice a reverent hush that grew into a bold cry, "Soter reached down into my heart! He showed me that even the broken, even the outcast, even the most wretched thief has a place in his kingdom! He took my hand and lifted me from the dirt, just as he can lift each one of you!"

The crowd murmured, skeptical, but a few faces softened, curiosity and hope flickering in their eyes. Mailys stepped closer, gesturing toward the villagers as if reaching out to each soul.

"Do you think Soter cares if you’re poor? Do you think he cares if you’ve been beaten down, cast aside? No! Soter cares for you *because* of those things! He sees the weary, the weary just like me and you, and he offers us something more than this—more than a life of hiding and hunger, more than the emptiness of stolen coins or fleeting pleasures."

Her voice rose, her words pulsing with conviction. "He doesn’t ask you to be perfect! No, he doesn’t ask you to be pure or pious—he asks you to come as you are. You may have sinned, you may have lied, you may have stolen, but to Soter, you are never beyond redemption!"

Mailys swept her gaze over the crowd, her eyes fierce and filled with an almost feral energy. “I stand here now, a witness of Soter’s love, not because I deserve it but because *I asked for it.* I reached out with nothing but empty hands and an empty heart, and he filled me with a peace I’d never known."

The crowd was silent now, captivated. Mailys took a breath, softening her tone, drawing them in closer.

"All you have to do,” she murmured, “is let him in. Let him carry your pain, let him shoulder your burdens. You’ve been carrying them alone too long, haven’t you? Haven’t we all?"

One man in the crowd shifted uneasily, his head lowered, shoulders tense, as if resisting the call he felt within himself. Mailys locked eyes with him, her voice a fierce, gentle plea.

"Lay down your burdens, my friends. The pain, the regret, the anger—give it to him! Let him turn your darkest days into light. Step forward into Soter’s grace, and watch as he transforms even the most broken among us. I was lost, but through him, I am found."

She raised her arms again, her voice a powerful crescendo.

"So come! Come and see what Soter can do for you. Let him make you whole, let him bring you home. Today, my friends, there is salvation in this place. And that salvation is yours if only you reach out and take it!"

As she finished, a hush fell over the crowd. Some heads were bowed, others eyes glistening with a spark of hope they had nearly forgotten. And there, standing tall in the crumbling ruins of Thalebrook, Mailys looked as radiant as a prophet reborn, her own conviction and newfound faith blazing like a fire in the night.

Aria exchanged a wide-eyed look with Elenor, who seemed equally bewildered. Cassian frowned, his hand instinctively drifting toward the hilt of his sword, more out of habit than threat, his eyes narrowed with mistrust.

“What is she doing?” Elenor whispered. “Yesterday she was bartering stolen silver for bread, and now she’s preaching like some prophet of Soter?”

"Exactly," Cassian muttered, his voice low and sharp. "This reeks of a scam."

Aria bit her lip, still watching Mailys as she bowed her head, whispering soft blessings over the villagers. Her fervor seemed sincere, but Aria could still see the hints of the shrewd, streetwise woman from the day before. She took a breath, then squared her shoulders. "Let’s find out."

They approached her just as she dismissed the crowd, Mailys lifting her head with a serene smile. When her eyes landed on Aria, Elenor, and Cassian, she greeted them with a soft, reverent tone.

“Sisters, Brother,” she said. “I hope Soter has blessed you on this day.”

Cassian crossed his arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Well, he certainly has surprised me.”

Mailys let out an innocent laugh. “I’m sure you didn’t expect to see me here, preaching in the name of Soter.”

“After yesterday? No,” Elenor said. “Last I remember, you weren’t particularly interested in piety—or honesty, for that matter.”

"I know how it must look," Mailys replied. "You're wondering if this is some kind of scam?"

Aria shook her head gently. “That’s not what we’re implying, Mailys.”

But Mailys held up a hand, her gaze steady, though a hint of a sad smile touched her lips. “It’s alright, Sister. I understand why you’d think so. I’ve been deceitful my whole life—skepticism is only natural.” She looked at each of them in turn, a flicker of determination in her eyes. “But… if there’s a way I can prove this to you, I want to try.”

She took a step back, gesturing toward the crumbling temple behind her. “Will you come with me? Let me show you what Soter has done.”

Inside the dimly lit temple, Aria, Elenor, and Cassian froze, their eyes widening at the unexpected sight. Judec and the other boys from the gang were working tirelessly, clearing away years of dust and debris. Across the room, the girls were scrubbing faded graffiti from the ancient stone walls, their faces focused and determined.

The air was filled with the steady sounds of work—the scrape of wood against stone, the splash of water, the quiet murmurs of coordination. None of the gang looked up as Mailys led her guests deeper into the sanctuary, their attention fixed on their tasks as if each stroke, each sweep, was a part of some newfound devotion.

Aria glanced at Mailys, her face a mix of surprise and curiosity. "They’re… they’re helping you restore it? By choice?"

Mailys nodded, her voice hushed with awe and pride. “It’s like they’ve been waiting for this—an opportunity to do something meaningful. Soter gave us more than faith; he gave us purpose. None of us are the same as we were yesterday.”

Judec, overhearing, shot them a crooked grin. “Don’t go thinking we’re all saints yet. But… well, this feels better than the usual heist.”

Mailys looked at each of them, her eyes earnest. “Stay and watch, if you like. You’ll see this is no con. We’re ready to make this place whole again."

As Aria’s eyes scanned the interior of the temple, she noticed two of the boys working diligently at one end of the room. They were constructing something from the old, weathered stone—something that resembled an altar. She raised an eyebrow and approached them.

"What is this?" Aria asked, her voice curious but cautious.

Mailys turned toward her with a gentle smile. "It’s a shrine to Thalia," she replied, her voice reverberating with reverence.

"Thalia?" Aria echoed, her tone skeptical. "Why would you build a shrine for her in a temple of Soter?"

Mailys’s smile remained, though there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. "It was Thalia who led us to Soter, Sister," she explained, her gaze steady. "Last night, she came here and showed us... how empty our lives had become, how shallow our thieving and games had grown."

“So, you’re saying Thalia, the muse of mischief, came to teach you virtue?” Elenor asked, her skepticism etched on her face.

Mailys stood taller, her gaze unwavering as she spoke with newfound conviction. "Thalia is no longer the muse of mischief and comedy," she said, her voice carrying the weight of a profound revelation. "She has rejected the adversary's influence and devoted herself to Soter. She has been reborn—as the muse of revival and healing."

Aria blinked, stunned by the claim. "Reborn?" she echoed, disbelief seeping into her tone. "Thalia, the goddess of laughter and trickery, has... become a muse of healing? How could such a thing happen?"

Mailys’s eyes softened, a mix of pride and reverence in her expression. "It is the grace of Soter, Sister. He saw Thalia's potential beyond the foolishness she once represented. He helped her shed the chains of the past and embrace her true purpose—to bring joy, not as a jest, but as a balm for wounded hearts and souls. Just as laughter can lift a heavy heart, so can her new gifts heal the broken."

Elenor spoke, her voice still skeptical yet tinged with curiosity. "And you believe this... transformation? That Thalia truly serves Soter now?"

Mailys nodded, her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer. "I have seen it with my own eyes. Last night, Soter sent her to show us the way. We were lost—so full of greed, anger, and pain—but Thalia’s presence reminded us that there is more to life than what we had known. She and Soter have led us to this moment. We are building this shrine not to mock, but to honor the healing they’ve given us."

Aria exchanged a glance with Elenor and Cassian, uncertainty still clouding her mind. "It seems... difficult to believe," Aria admitted. "The Thalia I know is not one to abandon her tricks and mischief. It’s hard to imagine her as a muse of revival."

Mailys’s expression softened, her voice gentle but resolute. "I understand your doubt, Sister. But in time, you will see for yourself. All we ask is for you to keep an open heart. Soter and Thalia are showing us a new path, one that can lead us out of the darkness and into the light."

Aria, Elenor, and Cassian excused themselves from the group, stepping to the corner of the temple to confer in private. The atmosphere was thick with uncertainty, and Cassian was the first to speak.

"I’m not buying it," he muttered. "If Thalia’s involved, then so is the adversary."

Elenor nodded, her brow furrowed with doubt. " You remember the rumors about Thalebrook's first 'revival,' right? People said it wasn’t a miracle from Soter, but a trick from the adversary. Could this be the same thing? Another deception?"

Cassian’s eyes darkened as he glanced back toward Mailys, who was still speaking to the others with that serene, almost reverent expression. "I wouldn’t put it past the adversary to play both sides. One minute it’s a godly revival, the next it’s a scheme meant to lead them down the wrong path."

Aria sighed, feeling the weight of the decision ahead of them. "Let's stay vigilant, then. We’ll have to keep our guard up. If Soter’s hand is truly guiding them, we’ll know. But if it’s a trick, we’ll expose it before it’s too late."

Suddenly, a low chuckle echoed through the air. Aria looked over and saw a group of men entering the temple. They were rugged and hard-eyed, their faces weathered from years of living on the streets of Thalebrook. Grizzled and scarred, they wore tattered leathers and heavy boots, each armed with weapons that looked well-used and deadly.

The men advanced, their eyes narrowing as they took in the scene. A tall, scarred man with a jagged blade strapped to his side stepped forward, his sneer as menacing as his presence.

"Well, well, well..." he growled, his voice rough and jagged, like gravel grinding in an old mill. "Seems we’ve found the little rats scurrying in our territory."