Father Abraham Carver, a stern man when it came to matters of his church. Though, many would revere him for his genteel disposition, how he carried a warmth in him that was close to affection, allowing many to feel safely harbored within his hallowed halls. So often those of little faith and even those of plenty sought refuge in him, spilling their secrets in sins and asking for guidance.

His answer was always the same because to him, there existed only one. God.

Of course, that answer had allowed him to navigate this life quite fluidly. Drones of weak-minded sheep so gullible and malleable to his crafted words of comfort. It was shockingly simple to control another with the promise of salvation and while Abraham did adhere to genuine devotion, the power that came with priesthood was... intoxicating. It was a push and pull. Taste a morsel of what it felt like to be loved like God, then repent for his little wrongdoings.