Rachel felt good. Her time with Zimo in Kasuto had been well spent. True, her research into Light and Spirit magic's practical applications in a fight had yielded only the vaguest of clues, but her impromptu meeting with Zimo had resulted in an emotional cleansing she hadn't known she'd needed. Before going to Kasuto, she had been confused, scared, and ready to run away from her problems. She was still scared, but now there was an action she could take. She had assurance in her plan to seek help, and that gave her strength. Her walk through the gates of Rauru and into the crowd was difficult. Her dinner with Zimo hadn't rid her of her anxiety. Still, by focusing on her goal and repeating short prayers to Farore, she made it through without hyperventilating or being reduced to a jibbering wreck. Every step was an effort, but she persevered. Soon she was walking past the bakery only a few streets from her home; she was inhaling the sharp scents of the spicy nugget stand beside her house; she had passed her family's shop. She didn't pause as she walked by. Her heart yearned to take shelter under its familiar roof, to hold her baby nephew in her arms and collapse into a soft chair, to take a break from this crowd and this harsh, revealing sun and just sit a while, but she knew, deep down, that if she did she might not have the strength to get back up and keep walking. She kept her eyes on the road and continued putting one foot in front of the other, and soon home was to her back, and she was pressing on through the crowd. Some time later, be it minutes, hours, or days she didn't know, her foot met marble. She looked up. The Temple stood high above her, its stone, marble, and windows of stained glass comprising a monument of hope and a promise of peace for Rachel's weary and anxious soul. "The last time I saw you," she said, "I was dead. You were the light at the end of the tunnel, or at least, you were the door the light shined through." She exhaled slowly. The crowd was behind her now, the sea of bodies rushing madly from place to place having no business with the sacred, serene stillness of the Temple. She walked up the steps and stood a while, standing before the doors to the Temple, unable to progress. She sighed. "This should be the easiest part. Why do I hesitate now?" The crowd was behind her. That was what really scared her, right? The Temple was peace, and peace was inviting, wasn't it? But to get that peace, she had to confront all the nasty, shivering things in her heart that she had tried so hard to ignore and power through. The Temple would heal her, but it would rip open the sores and leech all the pus from her wounds to do so. It would tear away all the shaky armor she had painstakingly assembled and leave her bare, shivering and naked, before the unwavering and allseeing light of the Goddesses. She would have to talk to a priest, and in so doing, she would have to accept that she wasn't strong enough to fight this on her own. She would have to bow down and submit to another's help. "Well then," Rachel said, "let's get on with it." She pushed the doors open and stepped inside.