It was a fabled legend about a distant star that could grant the wishes to only those whose desires were immense. For a long time, Polaris thought it was just a fairy tale until one night, the star visited him and gifted a new purpose. Now, Polaris...
The deaconess displayed a smile with her naturally red lips that were cracked and dried. "The temple welcomes all even if we hold no service at the moment."
Polaris pondered if he should share that he wasn't a believer and should offer a smile as a concession. Perhaps stoicism was the best answer. He walked over to a bench and sat deep against the backboard with his hands interlocked on his lap. His defective eyes stared upward at the stained glass, filtering light from its purest white into dazzling arrangements of colours. The glass panes of various hues arranged themselves into the form of the Saintess, who graciously looked down at the benches above the altar.
She turned her back to face the altar and braced her hands together. "You're a frequent visitor to the temple I've noticed. Albeit, I suspect you aren't a dutiful follower. Perhaps you nurtured on different waters to thrive in different faiths."
"So I'm not allowed here?" He mumbled with agitation laced within his words.
"A house of the Saintess welcomes all. Everyone seeks shelter and comfort through their own means, whether faithful or not. I don't fault you for not being a believer. I'm merely grateful you still visit. I wanted to ask, however, what is it you seek?"
This was a talkative and interactive deaconess that Polaris found annoyance with. Although he and the deaconess were the only souls within the grand hall, it felt as though she was the entire atmosphere contained within that loomed over him with inquiries.
He mumbled, "I just wanted silence here."
There a brief brevity of quiet before she answered, "Fair enough."
It almost seemed the conversation decayed from hereon, and Polaris would rather not play the vulture to pick at the remains, so he kept to himself. He pressed the knuckles against his forehead and gently eased his eyes into closing. There, he cradled in the silence, tasted the mundanity of his mouth, and smelled the burning wax of the candles whose flames shared cousins with the incense that leaked into the air. Rubbing his fingers together, Polaris felt how rough his skin felt from all the labour and trials. Then he breathed out a shallow sigh, releasing his morning essence into the temple to give to the setting mood.
"NIRVALLAH." A voice beckoned him out of nowhere.
He opened his eyes to the familiar desert of white dunes and sand before him. The air became animated with winds wailing around him, brushing against his skin, and taunted with sand to blow into his face. A storm gathered around him. His eyes gazed upward as though a presence suggested him to and there he saw the star. The immense celestial phenomena who breathed in the sand and breathed out with luminous clarity. His eyes didn't hurt staring, but his soul did with blisters emerging in his heart because he yearned intensely for the star. It was a yearning that he had never felt before with such intensity.
He had to seek Nirvallah.
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