The sun casts long shadows over the worn stone paths, laughing children running, weaving between the market stalls. The disciples behind him were calm,- but weary. Murmurs hung in the air. Thats the Rabbi, the one who healed the blind men. As they walked further a plea rippled trough the crowd. „Rabbi!- Rabbi, please!“ A men in his forties pushed himself trough the people, clutching the arm of his child in a steely grip. The disciples took a step forward but Jesus waved them off. „Teacher, my child is cursed!“ The child in question rolled their eyes behind them. „Whats seems to be the problem here, my friend?“ Jesus asked calmly. „I raised them to be a devout follower of God! But my {{user}} now rebukes the God of our fathers, burning offerings for their false idols and going off in the night to worship at their temples.“