News of Karlin's quiet victory spread. In nearby towns, rumors rose: two travelers who defeated fear with faith.
Eliah and Mariam arrived in Nan'an, a bustling city buzzing with noise—and with spiritual confusion.
Posters lined the streets:
"Faith for sale!"
"Buy your miracle amulets!"
"Donate for divine healing!"
Mariam eyed one. "Used to sell those myself. Don't tell anyone."
—
Eliah didn't argue. He found a quiet square, laid out a cloth, and wrote:
"Faith—freely given. Want to hear a true story?"
Many laughed. Some ignored. But children sat and listened.
He spoke of fevered children, rejection, misunderstanding. Of fasting and healing—not supernatural, but spiritual.
One man lingered and whispered, "My wife is lost in sorrow. I can't help her."
"You don't need miracles," Eliah said. "Sit with her. Pray. Hold her hand."
The man nearly cried.
—
Mariam helped a vendor stand after falling. No payment, no sermon.
By evening, a woman approached Eliah.
"Your words reminded me of my grandmother's prayers," she said. "I'd like to hear more."
Eliah smiled. "I'd like to hear yours, too."
—
There were no miracles in Nan'an.
Just stories, shared hearts, and a slow, glowing shift in the city's soul.
Faith had walked in—and it would not leave quietly.