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” 자기 심은 주인이 될 수 없다, 누가 따로 주인이 될 수 있겠는가.”

“자기를 잘 다듬어 스승으로 삼으라, 그렇게 하면 능히 참된 진리와 깨달음을 얻을 수 있다.”

– 법구경 중.

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

When a perplexing and difficult question opened the main topic, the only thing that arose in Lucia’s heart was doubt.

However, Lucia did not show it. Calmly taking a breath and organizing the scattered books like a librarian, she tried to soothe the chaos in her mind and began to speak.

“I do not know specifically what the Pope has questioned…”

“Saint.”

Startled by the sudden call from the Pope, Lucia raised her gaze.

Before her stood Pope John XVI, looking at her with a deep gaze, his hands resting on his staff as if he were a sage.

“I believe that a clever person like you undoubtedly knows what I am asking.”

“…”

“Please answer without reservation.”

The Pope spoke.

“Can you swear to speak truthfully and without lies in this very place?”

Unlike the magician’s oath that binds the soul, the priest’s oath carries no binding validity.

However, words are like keys that knock on the doors of the heart.

“…Yes. I will speak without a shred of falsehood or concealment.”

Lucia replied affirmatively.

*

“You asked me if our church is heading in the right direction? My answer is no.”

Lucia criticized the church directly, but its leader did not scold her. This was because it was the answer he had anticipated.

Though no one could say whether the oath held any real power except for the one making it, the seasoned priest had read the true intent reflected in Lucia’s sea-like green eyes. The Pope silently nodded.

The Pope stared intently into the distance with a face that seemed tinged with sadness, and the wrinkles on the back of his hand, caressing the handle of his staff, looked unusually deep today.

“…Thank you for your honest answer.”

“I promised to respond that way, after all.”

At her obvious reply, the Pope suddenly smiled.

Having gazed into the distance, he subtly shifted his attention to Lucia.

“The more I see you, the more fascinating you seem.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t answer the truth, did you? Normally, when I ask such questions, people either evade the answer or speak lies.”

As an amusing topic seemed to spring to mind, a faint smile appeared at the corners of Pope John XVI’s lips. He referred to earlier events in his usual calm tone.

“Come to think of it, you did the same back then. Do you remember the moment we first met?”

“Yes, in the garden of the Cathedral where the papacy resides. It was a beautiful flower garden.”

“There was one proposal I made to you back then. Do you recall that?”

A proposal.

Looking back, Lucia had received a sort of proposal from the Pope at that time.

“How about smelling the fragrance of the roses blooming in the garden? Yes, I remember. You did indeed make such a suggestion.”

“Correct.”

The Pope, who had been stroking his staff, suddenly looked down at his feet. Still wearing a smile, he bent down and reached out his hand, a small flower petal brushing gently between his wrinkled fingers.

It was a bright yellow wildflower.

Considering that the Cathedral of Tranquille was under the care of a gardener, it was evident that the wildflower had sprouted from a seed carried by the wind.

Even though the weather was still quite chilly with the wind blowing, the wildflower managed to break through the grass and successfully bloom its petals with determination.

Following the Pope’s hand, Lucia unconsciously thought that winter had passed and spring had come.

What brought her thoughts back was the Pope’s voice as he stroked the small wildflower.

“Isn’t it amazing? That such a small wildflower has withstood harsh weather and unfurled its leaves.”

“Yes, I indeed think it’s remarkable.”

“If I were to encourage you to smell the fragrance of this flower, would you?”

“I suppose I would, Your Holiness. It’s a flower I’ve never seen in my life, so I’m curious about its fragrance.”

John XVI chuckled softly at her somewhat sentimental reply. He carefully moved his shoes and staff to avoid damaging the petals and looked at Lucia.

“It seems that you enjoy flowers and their fragrances.”

“More precisely, I like flowers themselves. Observing their forms or smelling their fragrances is merely a way of getting closer to them.”

“So, would you pick a flower just to enjoy its fragrance?”

“I probably wouldn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t you pick a flower?”

“Because it has life.”

Lucia replied shortly, with a tone of certainty that suggested there was no need for elaborate reasoning or embellishment.

At this, Pope John XVI, seated opposite her, gently curled his lips into a smile.

“Is that why you haven’t plucked the roses in the garden?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a first.”

“A first?”

What exactly is a first?

Before she could organize her rising question into words, the Pope’s reply came first.

“You are the first among all the clergy I’ve talked to in the garden who, upon my suggestion to smell the fragrance, didn’t pick the flower. When I encouraged them to smell, they all hurriedly plucked the roses.”

“Me? Really?”

The Pope nodded silently.

“I have suggested this to bishops and cardinals alike. By the way, even Raphael, chosen as my successor, plucked the flowers.”

“What about others?”

“Priests, monks, and guardsmen were not much different either. Saint Veronica was also present then…”

At the sudden mention of Veronica’s name, Lucia urged him to continue with curiosity.

“What happened?”

“She despised getting pollen on her and fled with a distorted face. She claimed she had to take care of something and left her spot, but after over an hour of searching for the missing saint, the priests had a hard time.”

“…….”

Recalling the incident where Veronica stormed off and went missing, Pope John XVI couldn’t hide his discomfort.

Taken by surprise by such an unexpected answer, Lucia blinked with her blue eyes in confusion. Clearing his throat, the Pope began to speak again.

“In that sense, I want to thank you. You are the first person who has delivered me an honest and sincere answer and valued even the smallest of lives. Congratulations, Saint. You have gained my trust.”

“Uh, um… Thank you…?”

“There’s no need for you to thank me. I trust you, but as a Pope, I don’t completely trust.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

“You heard correctly.”

The Pope said.

“I trust you as a clergy member, but as a Pope, I do not fully trust.”

“…….”

“Moreover, as Pope, I have confidence in my successor Raphael, but I do not trust him as clergy either. Do you understand the difference between the two?”

“…I don’t know the exact difference, but I believe I know one thing.”

“What is that?”

Lucia replied.

“There is no one whom the Pope completely trusts.”

*

“You’ve pinpointed it exactly.”

From afar, the two seemed like priests engaging in a warm conversation. However, as one approached for a closer look, they would sense a strange atmosphere between the Pope and the Saint, filled with discomfort or tension.

It was a garden imbued with an odd aura. In the awkward silence, the Pope calmly asked.

“Are you not curious about the reason?”

“To be honest, I am a bit curious.”

“So why do you not ask?”

“I thought there would be reasonable grounds for both your lack of complete trust in someone and your decision not to reveal the reason.”

Lucia concluded her answer in a calm voice.

“And also for why you are saying this to me.”

The Pope let out a soft hum, suggesting he was considering her firm response. He leaned a hand on his chin, placing his lips against the back of his fingers, resembling someone lost in thought.

It seemed that John XVI was indeed half-caught in contemplation. Recognizing this, Lucia quietly remained patient until he organized his thoughts.

“…Because humans cannot be free from constraints.”

After a long silence, the Pope spoke, gently wiping the corners of his eyes. His once white eyebrows trembled as the wrinkles in his fingers brushed past them.

“No matter how extraordinary a person may be, they cannot satisfy everyone. They sin, become frustrated, and fall…”

“Saint, can you confidently say that you have never sinned even once in your life?”

“No.”

“Neither can I.”

The Pope began discussing humanity.

“Humans are the only beings resembling the divine image and shape among all creations. But unlike the omniscient and omnipotent God, humans commit faults.”

“So that is why you do not fully trust others?”

No answer came back.

Nonetheless, the Pope’s quiet nodding was sufficient as a response.

“Your Holiness.”

Lucia spoke.

“Those who emphasize sin suggest that humans cannot be trusted. Yet we are beings that depend on each other for survival. Without trust, we cannot rely on one another, love, and a life devoid of people cannot exist. Therefore, we must spend considerable time building relationships. Because…”

“‘Trust is akin to a seed. It must be sown and nurtured to bear fruit and be harvested’—I know that saying well.”

How could it not be familiar? It was a message delivered by the Pope to believers worldwide during the New Year Mass last year.

However, the Pope seemed to show no particular interest.

Even after quoting his own words, the Pope looked at Lucia with an indifferent expression.

“The essence of what I wish to convey is not entirely about trust in others, Saint. More so, it’s rather a bit more microscopic… um, yes. It can be said it’s about the human perspective on observing things.”

“Perspective, you mean?”

“Precisely. You have precisely the point.”

The Pope began to expound on human perspective.

“Humans can only look at what enters their view. Sight becomes the criteria for categorizing and defining objects.”

A peak viewed from a high vantage point may seem like a small hill, while the same peak viewed from below may appear as the summit of a towering mountain.

“The same animals appear…

Only those with short stature will see merely the beast’s legs, and those with dim vision will perceive nothing but vague shapes. Humans discern and define things based on the scenery that enters their field of vision, and I am no exception to this.

Pope John XVI spoke about the throne of the Pope.

“I am, to some extent, an individual, and to a greater extent, a priest and guardian of the Holy See. However, as I protect the Holy See, there come moments when I must make decisions that are, as a human and as a priest, too daunting to contemplate.”

The world seen by the beasts, both the walking and the flying ones, is different. Even among the same beasts, if they stand in various places, their perspectives will differ. Humans are not much different.

“For decades, I have guarded the Holy See while committing countless sins. I have turned away those who sought help, and when I could have walked the path of mercy, I did not.”

The expression on the Pope’s face was decidedly different from usual. As Lucia gazed at his solemn and grave demeanor, she carefully opened her mouth to ask.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I believed.”

The Pope answered.

“I believed that mercy was a life of cowardly compromise and subjugation. I believed I could not save all who asked for help. Truly, I believed that.”

To prevent war between religions, he turned a blind eye to the deaths of priests who had departed east at the behest of the Holy See. To mediate conflicts among powerful nations fighting for territory, he rejected the cardinal’s request for support to protect the impoverished areas ravaged by intense civil war. To stop the leap of the Magic Tower and the church’s division, while seeking to improve relations with the Magic Tower through the mediation of a neutral nation, he arrested the magicians as heretics.

The Pope thought that all these actions were indeed necessary, unavoidable matters. Part of it was true.

The Pope, wearing a bitter smile, slowly raised his head.

“At that time, I believed it was justice. I had a firm conviction that I was fulfilling God’s will on this earth, and I was certain that He was with me.”

“……”

“But for some reason, I often feel lately that He may not be watching over me.”

Lucia then asked him.

“Why do you think so?”

At that quiet question, Pope John XVI suddenly smiled.

“…The reason.”

Many reasons surged to his mind.

“As I mentioned earlier, it seems that as I grow older, I have become more contemplative. It feels as if the small things I used to overlook are now visible to me.”

“That’s right.”

“It seems my faith can no longer settle deep within my heart. If I borrow your expression for a moment, it feels like only religion remains, not faith.”

The aged priest began to speak in a calm tone.

“In the past, after finishing my prayers, I always felt a sense of fulfillment. My inner self felt filled with some warm energy. But these days… I feel nothing.”

“You mean you feel emptiness.”

“…Yes. Emptiness. Isolation. It feels like I am alone on a deserted island in a vast ocean, with my chest feeling hollow. A fitting expression indeed.”

Even after praying every day, no answers come.

Whether during moments of gratitude for the given day or when hoping for blessings before major undertakings, or even when praying to defeat the demons that rise from hell—

As always, the divine beings provided no response to his prayers.

“I pondered for a while why I feel nothing. Especially since I’ve been thinking about faith and religion, and confession, since I met you. No matter how much I thought about it, there seemed to be only one conclusion.”

Pope John XVI explained the answer he had arrived at.

“It is because the divine beings are no longer with me.”

“……”

“Is it because I looked away when I saw the church decaying? Or is it because I have committed numerous sins that should not be committed as a human? Perhaps… they are only now questioning the sins I committed long ago when I turned away from my children and wife.”

“……”

“What is certain is that I have walked the wrong path, and thus, He has grown angry with me. That is why I cannot fully trust people.”

It’s not that I can’t trust others, but because I can’t trust myself.

I lived for God and for my religion, yet now I have no certainty that He stands by my side.

The Pope does not trust people. He cannot trust them.

Whether it is a late regret about past days or the whim of an old man, no one knows. Only the Pope and God know.

However.

Just as he had felt, she too saw the clear color dwelling within his deep-set eyes.

Lucia sat quietly beside the Pope and listened to him intently.

At that moment, John XVI adjusted his grip on his staff and expressed his thoughts.

“Of course, when I told you a lie earlier, it wasn’t false. As a priest, I trust the saint.”

“But as Pope, you do not seem to trust me.”

“That is unavoidable. The positions that a priest and a Pope can hold must inevitably differ.”

“…I understand.”

“As a servant of the divine and a priest, I cannot help but send you infinite trust. Your character is upright, you possess compassion and mercy, you know how to appreciate the small things, and you have the courage to fight against demons.”

“You don’t need to praise me that much.”

Lucia tried to say, but the Pope shook his head and replied otherwise.

“No, I truly think so. You can confidently ask any passing priest, and they would undoubtedly say similar things. Above all—”

The Pope’s penetrating gaze shifted downwards. Below where the red shoes and staff were, a small yellow wildflower had sprouted.

“How can one who cherishes even a small flower lack the qualities of a priest?”

“That… seems to be an exaggerated interpretation.”

“You need to remember that others casually picked roses because they wanted to smell them. Was there any special reason for the cardinals and bishops to pick roses? No. They sacrificed a small life without hesitation to achieve their own desires.”

“I worry that putting too much significance on something done unconsciously might not be wise.”

“Words that arise unconsciously are indeed the innate nature of a human. Furthermore, not intending to do something doesn’t erase the sin. Just as I turned away from my children and wife.”

The Pope’s voice, recalling the past, carried a hint of regret.

Yet Pope John XVI did not show it. Lucia neither brought it up.

“That is why I trust you as a priest. However, as the guardian of the Holy See, it is not easy to place my faith in ‘Father Lucia,’ rather than ‘Saint Lucia.'”

Lucia immediately grasped the meaning behind his words.

Trust as a priest referred to trust as a human being. It meant determining whether one could believe in another based on qualities, character, and personal attributes.

Conversely, trust as a Pope meant political trust. It was about whether one possessed the qualifications of a bishop, a cardinal, a Pope, a saint, and whether, as a high-ranking cleric, one could effectively lead the future of the cult.

After a long silence, the Pope finally spoke.

His voice was calm.

“To be honest, I sometimes doubt whether you can overcome the hardships and adversities that await you as a saint.”

“Do you think I lack the qualifications of a saint?”

“That’s not it. I believe you have sufficient qualifications. However, I merely want to say that having qualifications alone does not guarantee overcoming difficulties, especially in these turbulent times.”

Pausing for a moment, he continued speaking.

“I cannot articulate it, but…I have a foreboding feeling that the next few years will be the most challenging period for our church. Regarding the timing of your ascension to the saintly position, I sincerely express my regrets.”

“How can that be considered your fault, Your Holiness?”

“If I had known just a bit earlier, perhaps we could have created a slightly better situation than we have now.”

The dark magician had emerged after decades, disasters and wars erupted everywhere, and even exorcist priests found it challenging to confront the demons that had appeared.

The conflict between the Magic Tower and the cult was escalating, and the long-standing conflicts between religions were deepening further. As the veil of mystery lifted, the authority of the church fell, now decaying from within and becoming secularized.

And then, a new saint was born.

“I have never acknowledged it before or deeply contemplated it, but…I wholeheartedly agree with your opinion that our church is heading in the wrong direction. It is now time for change.”

“……”

“Convincing Raphael and the bishops, the cardinals will not be easy. There are always those who refuse to accept change. I was once like that too.”

“It will change.”

“How?”

“Because I believe it will change.”

With no certainty of being with God and feelings of vague anxiety about the future emerging, the mighty divine presence felt parched like a cracked riverbed, and the blessed body weakened day by day.

No longer able to trust himself, he could not trust others either.

Yet if this moment is the last chance granted by God,

At the very end of life, one might dare to take the final throw with everything on the line.

Thus, the Pope asked.

Leaning on his staff, elderly John XVI stood on the rock and looked at Lucia.

“Do you believe that the church can walk the right path?”

The saint answered.

“Yes, I believe it will happen.”

“Can you endure the hardships that will come in your efforts to protect faith and conviction?”

Creating the sign of the cross hundreds, thousands, or perhaps even tens of thousands of times, Lucia clasped her hands together.

“If it is something that must be done, then of course I must.”

Pope John XVI asked.

“When acting in justice?”

“If that justice is for the sake of others, gladly.”

“I have long entrusted my fate to God’s will, but I believe your fate lies still in your hands.”

The Pope nodded.

“I will believe in your conviction.”

 

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