A saint arrived

Elena leapt up, grabbing her pistol, the second her back hit a hard surface.

It took her a moment to find her - a - target, and she clicked the safety lock off, pointing her gun at the man before her. He was not the man she’d been losing at chess to moments prior. He had shoulder-length pale blue hair, a light central-European complexion, and was wearing an old embroidered set of ceremonial robes. He slowly raised his right hand up in the air, his left hand shakily wrapped around a walking cane.

“Are you - no, you must be,” The next word that came out of his mouth had been scrambled, like a special effect in spy movies, “saintess.” He finished his sentence, seemingly unaware of that auditory effect.

“What?”

“Oh,” that scrambled sound came out of the man’s mouth again. “Has truly blessed me! And his temple! With #ch##o##v’s saintess here, we will be able to reopen this place. It’s great! If you could please put your weapon d-down, saintess, we can depart right away to the Capital. We must inform them of ##h##bo##’s return.”

Elena almost made out a full word, except it dind’t sound like any word she knew. She did indeed lower her pistol though, and finally took the time to look around.

She was standing in the centre of an elevated square platform. Intricate mozaic rune-like patterns ran from it the ede of a circular tower encompassing both her and the man. The walls of the tower opened up every few meters, both along their vertical and horizontal profiles. Ornate stained glass and old, but clearly thought-out embroidered curtails fluttered with a warm summer breeze, revealing a set of pentagonal walls behind them.

“That man,” Elena raised her hand to her right eye, mimicking his largest tattoo with a gesture, “I lost at chess and he sent me here.”

The blue haired man had returned his arm to his side, and was now giving Elena a confused glance.

“Listen,” The woman unzipped her parka, and the woolen sweater underneath it. “I’m not a saintess. I didn’t even believe in any gods until five hours ago. I’m not sure what’s going on, and if I’m being honest, I haven’t taken mushroom poisoning fully off the table.”

“Then who are you? If not ####v##’s saintes?” The man’s expression was a pitiful and barely contained mixture of despair and forced politeness.

He’d clearly placed a lot of value in Elena, despite the gun, and her literally just having appeared here, which only made the woman feel worse for what she was about to say.

“Ah - I’m,” She ran her hand through her wavy hair, which’d stuck to her head after days of trekking. “I’m a ranger. I do odd jobs for whoever pays, take people where they need to go and all that.”

“So that’s how ######## chose you,” The man nodded, still trying to convince himself that Elena was who he hoped she was.

“He didn’t. I was on this expedition, and …” Elena sighed. “Look, how can I get ot of here? I can help you look for your saintess if …”

“If I can pay up?” The man scoffed and covered his mouth with his hand, looking away. “I can’t believe ######## let another bandit in…”

“Hey, I wouldn’t go that far,” Elena hopped off the square piedestal.

Or rather, she tried to.

The mozaic made the floor seem closer than it was, and the woman tumbled over her own feet.

The man called out to her, and rushed to catch her, but she hit the floor elbows first. The coin that god had given her slipped out of her pocket, and spun on the ground under her.

One of its sides was golden, and embossed with a bust. The other was charred black, as if having been held to the flame of a candle for a very long time.

“I’m alright,” Elena reassured the man, before leaving one one forearm to snatch the coin.

As soon as she touched it, flames erupted from her hand. They traveled up her sleeve and through her winter gear faster than either she, or the man could stop them. Or even react.

She tapped herself, trying to put them out, despite not feeling any pain, and he threw his outer robe over her, hoping to put them out.

The flames vanished as soon as they’d appeared, leaving Elena sitting in a pile of ash. In one hand she tightly squeezed the coin. In the other, she held an l-shaped piece of molten metal and plastic.

She was stark naked but for the robe thrown over her shoulders.

“What just happened?” She turned towards the man, too astonished to think of anything else to say.

They locked eyes for over a minute, both trying to rationalise the situation.

“If you’re not ##er###g’s saintes, then you’re at least good enough a mage to fool Emperor Claudin.” The man finally spoke. “Please. I need this. ####v##’s followers need this.”

Elena shook her head. There was too much going on for her to make any sort of decision.

“I will pay you.” The priest pleaded.