Arun spent the afternoon healing the hemorrhoids and petty aches for high-paying nobles, much like he always did. With each noble healed, gold flowed into the temple coffers, accompanied by thanks for his help.

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Each time he would reply, "The praise is for Auran alone. I am but a conduit for his power."

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Arun hated it, despite his calm facade. Yet any time he pressed to help the poor as well, the temple would remind him that they've already conceded much to his whims merely by allowing his younger sibling to take the position of high cleric despite their lack of formal training.

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When he finally fulfills his duties for the day he seeks out his sibling in the temple library where they spend long hours studying to fill their undeserved role properly.

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When he's certain they are alone, he drops to his knees and lays his head on their lap. "Ugghhhh," he whines. "I hate being avataaaar. Call me a good boy and pet me. Please?"