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This light novel is inspired by the beautiful landscapes and cultures of Bolivia and South Korea. However, the characters, events, and situations portrayed are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. This content does not intend to represent or reflect the historical, social, or cultural reality of either country. The author disclaims any legal liability arising from the interpretation of these elements.
Chapter 77 — The Prayer I Won't Be Able to Say Out Loud
77.1 Faith.
The Toborochi tree stood imposing as ever, its pink flowers inviting one to contemplate its beauty.
To Zayra, this beauty was nothing new, but it symbolized a connection to her roots.
She first encountered it when she was three years old in her indigenous community.
At first, it seemed immense to her, but later it became the place where she spent most of her time climbing.
It was always there, wherever she went whether at her parents' estate, in the indigenous community,
or even along the walkways of Santa Cruz de la Sierra.
That tree didn't follow her; it waited for her.
On this occasion, without knowing why, she felt the same impulse she had as a child.
She chose to climb that tree, which had always been a witness to the best and worst moments of her life.
Once at the top, surrounded by flowers, a breeze moved her hair.
She felt as if she had returned to the past. She could hear her grandmother Carmen calling her:
"Zay… child, come on, we have to go to Mass..."
Her grandmother's warm voice and the gentle pinch on her ear were memories that anchored her.
She was her root, her guide the loving voice of her grandmother that had accompanied her all her life.
She never thought she would have to rethink what she had always taken for granted.
It wasn't a renunciation, but a choice.
A choice made with an open heart, conscious of the path she was forging.
She knew that at her wedding, there would be no bells, no incense, and no sacraments that day;
but she also knew that the love she shared with Ryu had its own blessing invisible, yet real.
She closed her eyes and whispered with a firm voice.
"Grandmother, I am not leaving my faith behind; I am only embracing it in another way, with patience and respect.
Because love, too, is sacred."
"Am I failing you, Grandma?"
She asked the air, the weight of doubt in her voice.
"Could there be other ways to honor the faith you taught me?"
A soft gust of wind brushed her face like an invisible caress.
"I don't want you to think I'm leaving my faith."
She continued.
"I'm just trying to love as You taught me... with patience, with respect.
Maybe one day he will understand what this meant to me.
Maybe, one day, he will feel it too."
Time seemed to stand still, leaving only the whisper of the wind.
And then, with a voice still trembling but determined, she whispered a small prayer.
"Lord… even if I don't marry in Your temple… bless our love. Make it pure, make it strong.
Be with us, even if we are not before Your altar, because my heart is full of faith.
And my promise... remains sacred."
Her tears continued to fall. But now, there was something different about them.
Not just sadness there was also surrender, courage, and hope.
In the background, without her noticing, Ryu had approached in silence.
At first, he found it curious to see Zayra up in the tree.
He was worried at first, but then he realized she had climbed up because she wanted to be alone.
Ryu stopped a few paces away, as if getting any closer would be a sign of disrespect.
He lowered his gaze for a moment before continuing to watch her in silence.
He said nothing. He just saw her there, so sad and so luminous all at once.
77.2 Where Love Does Not Nullify Faith.
The next day, the church was empty.
The silence of the temple embraced every corner as if it held the sigh of heaven.
Zayra walked slowly down the center aisle, her sneakers echoing softly on the marble.
Her long white linen dress billowed with the wind drifting through the high windows.
The sun poured through the stained glass, tinting the air with blues, greens, and reds,
as if God Himself had painted the light just for her.
She didn't want easy answers.
She only wanted to understand how her faith, her love, and her life could coexist without conflict.
She knelt in the first pew, in front of the altar.
She closed her eyes, and a tremor ran through her lips.
"My God…"
She whispered, pressing her hands together just as she did when she was a child.
"I know I shouldn't feel this, but… it hurts."
A tear fell down her cheek.
"I always thought I would bring You to my wedding, that You would be at the center… but I cannot force him.
His faith is different, and I must respect that, just as he respects me."
She sighed and put her hands to her face. Her body trembled.
"I love You, God, and I love him too. How do I choose? Does this pull me away from You?"
She sighed. She wasn't sure what she should do.
Perhaps that was why she had come to visit Him, trying to understand the dilemma circling her mind.
***
Then, a soft voice broke the silence.
"Are you alright, child?"
Zayra looked up.
An elderly priest, with kind eyes and a serene face, was looking at her gently from the side.
She quickly wiped away her tears and stood up awkwardly.
"Forgive me, Father… I came to pray; I didn't mean to make noise."
"Crying is also a prayer."
He said with a warm smile.
The priest had silver hair and emanated a deep calm.
His serene and welcoming gaze conveyed trust, like someone who has accompanied many and become a safe haven.
"May I sit with you?"
She nodded and sat down again.
The priest sat beside her, leaving space, without intruding.
For a moment, calm flooded the place before words filled the air again.
The man, with a warm gaze, asked:
"Is it because of someone you love?"
She took a deep breath, nodded, and then spoke:
"I am marrying a wonderful man, but he is not Catholic.
I don't want to force him… and yet, I always believed I would marry before God."
She inhaled deeply and confessed.
"Now, I don't think that's possible..."
The priest remained silent for a moment.
Then he nodded slowly.
"I have seen many cases like this. And, over time, some drew closer to God without pressure… only through love.
I don't know if that will be your case, but often love opens paths we do not expect."
Zayra looked at him, surprised.
"Really?"
The priest replied:
"God works in the heart in His own time.
Sometimes the seed is born at the wedding… and other times through the fruit of the bond."
He paused briefly and added:
"Our Lord said: 'Love is patient, love is kind. It does not boast, it is not easily angered, it seeks not its own...' (1 Corinthians 13)."
A ray of light entered through the window as if God were part of the conversation.
The priest laughed softly and added.
"God does not ask you to renounce or to force; only to love. And you are already doing that with faithfulness."
She felt moved; for the first time in a long while, she felt more at peace.
But it didn't last long, as the next question escaped her lips without permission.
"And what if he never does?"
The priest laughed at the question.
"Your faith does not depend on him or on a ceremony.
It depends on you and God… and He is closer than you think."
He stepped toward the altar as if showing her the way and added.
"Even if it is not here, God has already blessed your union through love."
Zayra closed her eyes and opened them with a glow of gratitude.
"Thank you, Father… thank you."
The priest smiled, turned around, and said:
"Go in peace, daughter. And go love him with all your heart."
She stayed a moment longer in silence.
Then she stood up, made the sign of the cross, and walked toward the exit.
The sun continued to shine through the stained glass.
Her faith was still alive seen from a perspective where the foundation was love.