By the time Elham stepped outside, the village was just beginning to wake. The sky was pale, the light soft and spreading slowly across the rooftops. A few people were already moving through the streets, carrying on as if nothing had changed.
To them, it hadn't.
To him, everything had.
Elham didn't stop walking until he reached the temple.
John was already there.
Sitting near the entrance, as if he had been waiting.
He didn't look surprised to see him.
"You came early," John said calmly.
Elham nodded.
"I didn't really sleep."
John studied him for a moment, then nodded once.
"That's normal."
Elham stepped closer, his expression tightening slightly.
"I don't understand what I'm supposed to do," he said. "I tried this morning… nothing happened."
John stood slowly.
"It won't always," he replied.
Elham frowned.
"…Why not?"
John walked past him, toward the center of the temple.
"Because it's not something you control."
Elham turned, following him.
"Then what is it?" he asked.
John stopped and faced him.
"Faith isn't power you use," he said. "It's something you stand in."
Elham frowned deeper.
"I don't get that."
John didn't seem bothered by that.
He simply gestured toward the open space around them.
"Yesterday, when you spoke, you didn't hesitate," John said. "You didn't question it. You weren't trying to see if it would work."
A brief pause.
"You already believed it would."
Elham thought back to that moment.
He remembered it clearly.
He hadn't been thinking.
He had just… known.
"…Yeah," Elham said quietly.
John nodded.
"That's the difference."
Elham looked down slightly.
"…So why can't I do that now?"
John's voice remained steady.
"Because now you're trying to recreate it."
That landed harder than Elham expected.
He clenched his hand slightly.
"…Then how do I do it again?"
John didn't answer right away.
Instead, he said, "Speak."
Elham looked up.
"…About what?"
"Something true."
Elham hesitated.
He wasn't sure what that meant in this moment.
But after a second, he said, "God is real."
The words left his mouth clearly.
Nothing happened.
No shift. No presence. No change.
Elham exhaled quietly.
"That's what I mean."
John shook his head slightly.
"You said the words," he said. "But you didn't stand in them."
Elham looked at him, frustrated.
"What does that even mean?"
John stepped closer, his gaze focused.
"You're still deciding if it's true," he said.
Elham paused.
"That's not—"
But he stopped.
Because part of him knew it was.
John continued.
"Faith isn't deciding," he said. "It's knowing."
The words settled in the silence between them.
Elham swallowed.
"…How am I supposed to just know?"
John's expression didn't change.
"You already do."
That answer unsettled him more than anything else.
John turned slightly and walked toward the entrance, then stopped.
"Trust in God with all your heart," he said, "and don't lean on what you think you understand."
Elham stilled.
The words felt familiar.
Not something he had learned.
Something he recognized.
John looked back at him.
"You're trying to understand it before you accept it," he said. "That's why it feels unstable."
Elham looked down at his hands again.
"…So I just… believe?"
John shook his head.
"No," he said. "You commit."
That felt different.
Stronger.
More final.
John stepped back and gestured again.
"Try again."
Elham closed his eyes.
This time, he didn't rush.
He didn't force it.
He let the memory return naturally.
The water.
The light.
The stillness.
"I choose God."
The words echoed in his mind.
Something in his chest responded.
The warmth returned.
Stronger now.
Steadier.
Elham opened his eyes.
"…God is real."
This time—
He meant it.
Not as a statement.
As truth.
The air in the room shifted slightly.
Subtle.
But real.
Elham felt it immediately.
His breath slowed.
"…I felt that," he said quietly.
John nodded.
"You stood in it."
Elham looked at his hands, then back at John.
"…So that's it?"
John shook his head.
"No," he said. "That's the beginning."
He walked slowly past him.
"There will be voices that aren't from Him," John continued. "And they won't sound wrong at first."
Elham turned.
"…Demons."
John nodded.
"They twist what is true," he said. "They make what is false feel right."
Elham thought about the man in the square.
The way everyone had believed him.
"…Then how do I fight that?"
John stopped and looked at him.
"You don't argue with it," he said.
A pause.
"You answer it."
Elham frowned.
"With what?"
John met his gaze.
"With truth."
Silence filled the temple again.
Elham stood there, letting that settle.
Then slowly—
"…Then I need to know what's true."
John nodded.
"Yes."
A pause.
"And live it."
That landed deeper than everything else.
Elham let out a slow breath.
The warmth in his chest steadied again.
Not overwhelming.
Not out of control.
But present.