Julian was a scholar; he was a man who lived by logic and ink. He didn't want to be a vessel. He didn't want his hands to be tools for a god he didn't know.
Yes, he had faith… but his faith was not to heal the sick or gain whatever eternal life they keep talking about.
He doesn't even know the doctrine of their religion.
But he did know one thing. It was not the same as any of the religions from his real world.
He wanted to think deeply, maybe search through the books and find records that could help him explain the phenomenon with the flower. Or perhaps, a saying that a priest can heal a sick or dying plant, but it will not manifest right away.
If he finds something like that, he has every reason to point accusing fingers at Elian and his purifiers and claim they set him up.
But he wasn't allowed the luxury of a long silence or moment of search when a frantic knocking came at his door.
It was the light, hurried tapping of a young maid.
