Auren listened to the man's trembling voice, pausing in thought before offering a small smile.
"Sir, if I may ask… What offerings did he usually give to the gods?"
The man glanced at Auren, replying quickly, "We always donated money to the temple. Giving money to the temple is no different than giving to the gods themselves. But his mother fell ill, so he used the money to buy her medicine instead."
Auren gave a slow nod. "I have one final question. Please, tell me the truth. He didn't make an offering what do you truly think of him?"
The man's expression twisted strangely. "He didn't give to the gods, and that's why he died. It was his fault. His death was deserved. His mother may have taken care of him well, but he was a fool."
Disgust laced his voice.
Auren's eyes dimmed for a moment like a shadow passing through his gaze but quickly, his expression returned to a calm and harmless smile.
"Is that so?" he said softly. "Still… it's a pity. I hope his death was at least painless."
The man's face softened slightly at Auren's sympathetic tone.
Not long after, Callan returned. His face looked slightly darkened.
Noticing, Auren asked gently, "Are you alright?"
Callan looked at him, his expression briefly wavering. "Yes, I'm fine. But… I think it's best we return for today."
Auren studied him for a moment, then nodded silently.
Together, they left the crowded place behind. As they walked, Auren glanced back. He could see the fear and disgust in the eyes of the people watching them.
And then he thought:
"People are quick to judge, yet they rarely try to understand. They only begin to comprehend when something similar happens to them. As if life is a book they must reread over and over just to grasp its meaning."
Turning his gaze forward again, Auren walked beside Callan, heading home.