Post by Executus Gira on Jun 26, 2019 0:37:27 GMT
As the dawn sun began to rise over the city of London, its rays shone upon the varied architecture of the city. The wealthy and well built inner city with its cars, and the outer shanty towns that surrounded the city itself and penetrated into its depths and the horse drawn carriages and pedestrians who lived on the edge, all were greeted with the warming rays of the star above their heads.
This light was not the only thing that came with the arrival of the morning, however. For those who struggled in the shantytowns and the slums, the morning brought with it an extra set of hands willing to help, and faith to keep them moving to the next day. Such was the person who walked across the eastern edge of London through one of the shantytowns. She was not dressed like the earthly people around her, for she was adorned in robes of both white purity and black sin, with hazel hair that drifted behind her. Around her chest was a book held tight, and she walked across the dirt roads with nothing on her feet. Not that she cared. Her own needs were unimportant to her.
"Can anyone help!" A man shouted from the side. The girl's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and she pushed through the crowd. She stopped when she came to a pile of twisted metal and wood on the ground. A body, that of a young boy no more than ten years of age, had been pulled from the rubble by what the girl assumed to be his father, a stout man in his thirties. "Can anyone revive him, please?!"
"What happened?" She asked. Her eyes were on the boy's frame. He was bleeding from his arms and legs and chest, and his face was swollen and bruised. His right arm was also bent at an unnatural angle, and though he was breathing, the breaths were slow and weak.
"Our home, it crashed down onto us. It's just the two of us that lived here, and I don't know why it happened." The father looked at her. "I was woken up by a jolt, and then it collapsed. I pulled myself out, but my son, he's dying, and I cannot afford medical treatment for him."
The girl placed a hand on the boy's forehead. "Faith is the only price I ask for. Do you have faith that your son will live?"
The father looked her in the eyes. "Y-yes, yes I do. Somehow, someway, he'll pull through. But-"
"Then by your faith, I bring him back."
To the father's bewilderment, he could see energy flowing down from the girl's arm into the boy. The effects were immediate; His arm popped back into place, and the wounds and bruises that covered him closed and vanished. Within half a minute, the boy looked as if he had never been hurt in his life, and his breath became stabilized, at a steady normal pace.
"My god... How? Thank you! Thank you!" He exclaimed. He looked up at the girl, but to his shock, she seemed out of breath. "Are you..."
"I'm fine. Just, a little winded. But your boy's health is all that matters." She panted, but kept on her feet.
"Can I repay you in any way? I have no money anything now..."
"There is no need." The girl looked around. A crowd had started to gather. A few seemed to recognize her, but others were as amazed and shocked as the father was. She turned to them. "Any sick, any wounded, any weak willed and weak bodied among you, come to me and I can restore you, with the power of my god!"
This light was not the only thing that came with the arrival of the morning, however. For those who struggled in the shantytowns and the slums, the morning brought with it an extra set of hands willing to help, and faith to keep them moving to the next day. Such was the person who walked across the eastern edge of London through one of the shantytowns. She was not dressed like the earthly people around her, for she was adorned in robes of both white purity and black sin, with hazel hair that drifted behind her. Around her chest was a book held tight, and she walked across the dirt roads with nothing on her feet. Not that she cared. Her own needs were unimportant to her.
"Can anyone help!" A man shouted from the side. The girl's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and she pushed through the crowd. She stopped when she came to a pile of twisted metal and wood on the ground. A body, that of a young boy no more than ten years of age, had been pulled from the rubble by what the girl assumed to be his father, a stout man in his thirties. "Can anyone revive him, please?!"
"What happened?" She asked. Her eyes were on the boy's frame. He was bleeding from his arms and legs and chest, and his face was swollen and bruised. His right arm was also bent at an unnatural angle, and though he was breathing, the breaths were slow and weak.
"Our home, it crashed down onto us. It's just the two of us that lived here, and I don't know why it happened." The father looked at her. "I was woken up by a jolt, and then it collapsed. I pulled myself out, but my son, he's dying, and I cannot afford medical treatment for him."
The girl placed a hand on the boy's forehead. "Faith is the only price I ask for. Do you have faith that your son will live?"
The father looked her in the eyes. "Y-yes, yes I do. Somehow, someway, he'll pull through. But-"
"Then by your faith, I bring him back."
To the father's bewilderment, he could see energy flowing down from the girl's arm into the boy. The effects were immediate; His arm popped back into place, and the wounds and bruises that covered him closed and vanished. Within half a minute, the boy looked as if he had never been hurt in his life, and his breath became stabilized, at a steady normal pace.
"My god... How? Thank you! Thank you!" He exclaimed. He looked up at the girl, but to his shock, she seemed out of breath. "Are you..."
"I'm fine. Just, a little winded. But your boy's health is all that matters." She panted, but kept on her feet.
"Can I repay you in any way? I have no money anything now..."
"There is no need." The girl looked around. A crowd had started to gather. A few seemed to recognize her, but others were as amazed and shocked as the father was. She turned to them. "Any sick, any wounded, any weak willed and weak bodied among you, come to me and I can restore you, with the power of my god!"