As she reached the church, she pushed open the heavy mahogany doors, its hinges groaned, and she stepped inside. The church hall was a simple, yet elegant space. The wooden beams supporting the sides of the ceiling were adorned with hand carved picture art, each representing different aspects of the town’s history and its faith. The walls were painted in a warm, earthly tone.

At the heart of the hall stood a baptismal font. Above it was a marble stone basin filled with holy water. The font was supported by seven intricately carved wooden pillars made from mangkono, a rare ironwood, each adorned with the symbols representing each of the seven gods.

A stylized eight-pointed star with a central ruby stone representing the orb of creation for Bathala, the supreme creator god.

A woven bamboo mat with a stylus and inkpot resting on top for Minerva, god of wisdom, arts and healing.

A pair of sarimanok, their heads intertwined to form a heart, representing Idianale; god of family, fertility and love.

A pair of balanced scales with a kampilan sword crossing vertically behind them for Hiamut—god of judgment and order.

A three-faced sundial for Chronos—god of time, prophecies and visions.

A central black circle surrounded by a ring of twelve radially arranged sig-runes, forming a wheel-like pattern, for Orpheus—god of death and rebirth.

A large kampilan sword stands behind a Philippine Eagle that spreads its wings, symbolizing Karamat—god of warfare and peace.

She walked past the baptismal font, dipped her index finger into the holy water just enough to wet it, and traced an ankh symbol on her forehead. Then she made her way toward the altar, where statues of the Seven Gods formed a semi-circle facing her, each with their head raised and right arm outstretched toward the orb suspended above them. The orb emitted seven rays in seven different colors. She gently placed the basket on the cushioned rug floor and knelt; she tucked a note into the blankets. The baby stirred, cooing softly as he smelled his mother’s scent, his tiny arms reaching out to her. She lifted him gently, humming a lullaby, and kissed his forehead for the last time before placing him back into the basket.

She then fastened her amulet around his tiny neck. The amulet depicted a winged dragon, with its tail curled around a burning tree. She looked up to the statues of the Seven Gods, and prayed for her his safety—dedicating his future to their care.

She stood up, but the baby's cries pierced the silence, wrenching her heart. Tears streamed down her face as she ran towards the heavy wooden door, her footsteps echoing in the empty church. Outside, the rain and wind whipped through the trees. She paused for a moment, with a final anguished look at the church as the cries of her son echoed through the night, knowing she couldn't stay any longer. She turned and fled down the mound, disappearing into the dark streets of Nebo.

The banging of the entrance doors of the church and echoing cries of the baby startled the priest from his evening prayers. He hurried from his chambers, his footsteps muffled on the stone floor, and soon found the source of the noise. A wicker basket lay nestled at the foot of the altar of the seven gods, a small bundle of blankets writhing in the distressed movements of a newborn baby. Father Howard gazed at the crying child, and a cold breeze flowed inside the church as the heavy doors of the church were half open. He rushed to it and closed it and went back to the newborn; gently picked him up and comforted the little one. As he calmed the baby, his eyes fell upon the amulet, and a letter tucked into the basket, written in a shaky hand with the words inscribed “Kael.” He then realized the paper material as he moved his thumb and chanted abri (open) below the baby’s name, words came out and continued.

 "By Flame and Oath, we Endure"

-F.V.

“Kael,” Father Howard said, understanding the situation. He chanted kalayo (fire) then a small flame emerged and burned the letter in his left hand leaving no traces of it.

As the baby’s cries echoed through the halls of the church, Tania, a twelve-year-old novice, woke up from the depths of slumber. She groans softly, slumped over her study table, a quill still clutched on her left hand. Piled before her were books on holy magic, healing spells, and the theological foundations of the Valerian faith. Tania wore the simple black and white garb of a novice nun with a delicate veil resting atop her head, partially concealing her red chestnut hair. Her green eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep.

"Huh?" she mumbled.

The crying of a baby echoed again,

She rose from her chair and placed the quill on the teakettle. She reached for the Amulet of Idianale from the pile of books in front of her, and fastened it around her neck before taking a flint and steel to light a candle. She descended the creaky stairs and couldn't help but wonder about the baby's cries in the middle of the night.

She made her way to the church worship hall; it was dimly lit with the flickering candlelight that danced on the walls. Tania saw Father Howard cradling a tiny infant wrapped in a woolen blanket, the newborn’s cries echoing throughout the quiet church.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked softly.

Father Howard turned his head, and said, “Oh, sorry for disturbing you during your study, Tania. Here is the root of the trouble. Do you want to hold him?” Father Howard gently handed her the infant. Tania blew the candle on her hand and placed it on the floor before she took the baby in her arms.

“Found him here at the foot of the gods. Abandoned I fear, ” he paused, his gaze falling on the amulet around the infant’s neck.

“His name is Kael, from the magic letter earlier before it turned into dust.”

Her brow furrowed. “You know Father Howard, you’re pretty bad at telling lies before me. Where’s the letter you talked about?”

“Alright you got me, there was no letter and I named him Kael.” The infant stopped crying. Tania’s heart melted at the sight of his tiny, tear streaked face. She noticed the amulet around his neck.

“Do you know anything about his amulet, Father Howard? I noticed you kept looking at it?”

Father Howard paused for a second and said, “no Tania. What is important is that he is safe, and that we honor the person who entrusted this child to our care. As representatives of Idianale, it’s our obligation to either raise or look for people willing to adopt him. He gestured to the statue of Idianale, depicted as a blessed maiden in a nun’s attire, with a veil covering half her head.

Father Howard took a deep breath and sighed. "This brings me back to when you were left here, in this very spot, twelve years ago. I had just been ordained by the Cardinal of Valeria and didn't know what to do with you because I was the only one here at that time. I carried you hurriedly to your adoptive father's home at night and asked for cow's milk. Roger was speechless when he saw you in my arms, crying endlessly. Thank the gods your mother, Emily, came and took you in. Though she scolded me for thinking of giving you cow's milk. HAHAHA." Father Howard laughed, the sound echoing through the church.

“Father, please lower your voice. We are in the presence of the gods. I’ll ask mom if she’s willing to take Kael in. As our doctrine states, children abandoned or surrendered to church’s care are obliged to serve the church from ages 6 until they’ve reached 18, at which point they have the choice to join the clergy or leave to forge their own path. Father Howard nodded in approval and ruffled Tania's head with his right hand.

  "Very good, Tania. I think the rain has stopped. Give me a minute to change my clothes and I'll accompany you. Watch over your soon to be little brother."

Father Howard returned to his quarters to change. Tania gently laid little Kael back into his wicker basket, tucking him in with his woolen blanket. She noticed the Adarna fabric, which was supposed to be wrapped around the wicker basket, tucked to the side of the foam. She picked it up to inspect it.

“This…This is from the feathers of the phoenix bird Adarna,” She muttered. After a short while, Father Howard came back, with an umbrella on his right hand

(Author’s Note: Adarna is a Filipino mythical phoenix bird)

“What do you have there Tania?” Howard said with an umbrella on his right hand.

“Nothing,” Tania replied, tucking the fabric into her robes. She stood up like nothing happened.

Father Howard looked at her and said “you know lying in front of the gods is a sin, especially when we’re on holy ground.”

“Then I’m telling the truth, since I didn’t turn into dust.”

Father Howard sighed. “Very well. Let’s go. Your mother is probably worried sick.”

And the three of them left the church.