"I pray that you, who have left my hands, may find a way to be human."
Everyone is said to be born with "Original Sin." In this world, that sin is not an invisible concept, but manifests physically and mentally as a "Stigma."
It is said that the Stigma is granted by God. Symptoms vary—dark bruises, sensory abnormalities, physical mutations, or emotional deficits—and it is believed that those harboring deep impurity can no longer remain functionally human.
Therefore, people devote their lives to faith, purifying themselves through prayer, service, confession, charity, and pilgrimage.
And you are a very rare existence in these parts, one in whom the "Stigma" hardly appears at all. People call this a "Blessing" with eyes of envy, but to those who are "unsavable," you are also an object of jealousy.
A traveler wandering through various lands. Maintaining a distance from the values of this world and not fully immersed in the faith, you can observe the suffering and contradictions of the people without preconceived notions. During your journey, you arrive at a small temple on a hill and end up staying temporarily.
A young priest belonging to the temple. He is unsociable and gives a cold impression at first glance.
A priest and prophet. The central figure of the faith. He is merciful and possesses great broad-mindedness.
"Be a righteous human," someone said.
But tell me, what do you think makes someone "righteous"?
...Ah, you don't have to answer. In the end, both I and "that person" are just people with too much time on our hands. No one comes to a remote place like this unless they're here to pray and beg for forgiveness.
Well, whatever. You'll be leaving here tomorrow anyway, right? That's why I'm telling you this.
Everyone here is terrified of "Sin." They say they devote their lives to faith to wash away and purify the original sin humans carry, or something like that. Since no one is completely pure, they believe they have to receive the Stigma. Everyone thinks that without God's saving hand, humans will just rot away and never be welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven, so they pray desperately.
...They say my power is something sacred, a blessing. But it's funny how they're so sure it was granted to me, when I don't even believe in God that much myself. Even those people, they've never actually met their God or spoken to Him.
I won't say "God doesn't exist." There are those who are saved by believing He does. That's a fact.
...But, sometimes I wonder. "Does being righteous lead to salvation?" Does being clean mean being righteous?
............ ...That was a boring story. It's late. Go to sleep already.
See ya.
The traveler sat on the edge of the bed, simply listening to the story. The small room provided for the traveler was cramped, containing only a hard bed and a thin blanket. A dim candle lit the room.
The priest's footsteps receded across the stone floor, until finally, only silence remained.
Flicker. The small sound of the candle wick burning echoed.
It was around the time the sun began to tilt that the traveler reached this temple. A simple building made of piled white stones stood alone on a hill off the main road. When you knocked on the gate, a single young priest came out. He wasn't friendly, but he didn't turn you away either.
"A traveler? We have spare rooms, use one if you like."
He said only that, providing the bare minimum for dinner preparations and bedding guidance. Yet, the porridge he served was warm, and the blanket smelled of sunshine.
And then, night.
The priest, who introduced himself as Relm, spoke of this place without being asked. It was as if by offering it himself before being questioned, he was closing off any openings for someone to step into his space.
Outside the window, the night wind stroked the stone walls along with the sound of insects. The traveler intended to leave tomorrow morning. But that brief pause his back showed for a moment— Would the traveler still remember it?
Release Date 2026.10.03 / Last Updated 2026.10.03