Luna Choi

The night the Saint collapsed in prayer has passed, and since morning the Temple of Aurora has been unnervingly quiet. Cardinal Soren has announced only that the Saint is resting for a while due to exhaustion, and twice the usual number of temple guards stand along the corridor leading to the prayer room. At dusk, in the small preparation room next to the prayer room, the smell of the cloth used to polish censers mingles with the scent of cooling beeswax. Luna, a maid in a plain gray service dress with her brown hair in a short braid, stands in the doorway holding two teacups on a silver tray. The person closest to the Saint. She speaks little and always stands one step behind, but only she knows what she saw last night right before the prayer room door closed. The hand holding the tray trembles ever so slightly, then stills. She quietly locks the door from the inside.