The night sky was dark as ink, with stars dotted for as far as the eye could see. The sky was a canvas and the artist had sprinkled specks of white all over it.

Very sparse clouds could be seen in the sky. They hung at low altitudes, covering the city in a pall of obscurity.

The deserted streets of Damascus were still covered in snow, creating an eerie atmosphere that threatened to swallow everything in its path.

Only the sounds of the sparse rustling leaves and the creaking of the tree branches could be heard as a gust of cold wind blew from time to time.

The only light, this late into the night, came from the gas lampposts. The silence was overwhelming.

At the edge of the slums, was a small three-storied apartment building. The building was dilapidated and its walls were damp.historical

And why would they not be? After all, no one cared about the people or the infrastructure in this part of the city. The people and things here were expendable, this was the general consensus of the affluent.

On the topmost floor of this run-down building was a single-room apartment. Inside, the room was dimly lit by a flickering gas lantern.

The kitchen area was cramped and dirty, the sink was clogged, and full of unwashed dishes and cutleries.

A small single bed was positioned on one side of the room, across the kitchen. Upon which, lay a young girl with brown hair. Her face was pale as she shivered from time to time under the stitched-up blanket.

In front of her was her father who was kneeling down on the floor, trying his best to keep his tears from falling.

"You're going to be all right, Alice. Daddy's here with you." He began to sob uncontrollably as he gently caressed his daughter's face.

Her daughter, Alice, had been diagnosed with severe flu. However, he had no money to cure her since he had just recently lost his job as a carriage driver.

His wife had already died a few years back. Alice was the only family he had left, his reason for living. But now, that too would be taken from him.

As a father, he couldn't even take care of his seven-year-old daughter. He felt utter despair. Overwhelmed by sorrow, anger, and helplessness.

Just as he was wallowing in his misery, he heard the sound of knocking coming from the door.

Knock Knock Knock!

The father turned his head and looked towards the door in puzzlement, 'Who would want to come here at this time of the night?'

He wiped the tears off his face, got up to his feet, and walked towards the door. He turned the doorknob and opened it.

Outside, a blond middle-aged man, wearing white priest's robes was standing and looking at him with a gentle smile. His blue eyes gave one a sense of comfort and warmth.

"Can I help you?" The father asked, still unsure about why a priest would be standing at his doorstep.

"Child, I have heard your pleas." The blond priest replied with the same gentle smile.

Now, the father was feeling a little wary of the priest. He looked him in the eye and stated solemnly, "I don't know what you're talking about. You've got the wrong person."

With that said, he proceeded to shut the door. But right as he was about to completely shut it, he heard the priest's voice, "I can cure your daughter."

The father froze on the spot, the door still left ajar. His body trembled every so slightly when he heard the priest say those words. And those words continued to echo inside his head.

In this moment of desperation, the words that were spoken by the priest were like music to his ears.

He hurriedly opened the door and grabbed the priest's hands as he stammered, "W-What did you just say?"

The blond priest didn't mind the father's actions at all, he simply smiled and affirmed, "You heard it correct, child. I can cure your daughter."

The father couldn't hold back anymore as tears streamed down his face. He had tried to borrow money from so many people but it was of no avail. He even tried to get a low-paying job but was denied an advanced payment.

Finally, at his most desperate moment, a white-robed priest appeared and lent him a helping hand.

The father hurriedly dragged the priest inside his messy apartment and led him to his daughter who was still in deep sleep.

"Father, I'll do anything you want if you cure my daughter. Please, save her! I beg you!" The father knelt at the priest's feet and clasped his hands together as he stared at the priest hopefully.

The priest gently patted the father's shoulder and smiled brightly, "This is God's grace. You do not have to worry anymore."

He then turned his gaze to the girl whose breathing was ragged. He then turned to look back at the father and asked earnestly, "I will have to remove the upper part of her dress. Can you give me permission?"

The father was taken aback for a moment. He thought for a long time and finally nodded his head. If he found the priest doing something perverted to his unconscious daughter, he would kill him on the spot!

The priest nodded and then removed the blanket over the little girl. He then proceeded to undress her, however, he only did so till her stomach region.

Looking at this, the father clenched and unclenched his fists a couple of times as he thought in his heart, 'You will be all right now, Alice. Hang in there.'

The priest then took out a glass vial from inside his robe. The vial contained a verdant-colored bright liquid.

He then slightly opened Alice's mouth and poured out the contents of the vial. After keeping the empty vial back inside his robes, he brought both his hands slightly on top of the little girl's chest and gently applied spiritual force.

Seeing the priest's hands glow brightly, the father was shocked beyond comprehension. He beamed piously, "Praise the Goddess!"