The high pontiff reached for the pure white scepter, adorned with a golden ribbon, from the other paladin and presented it to me. “Please accept this token in commemoration of this auspicious occasion.”
With careful movements, I tucked the certificate securely under my arm and accepted the scepter with both hands. “Thank you, Your Holiness.” Gently adjusting my grip to hold the scepter in one hand, I grasped the certificate again with the other. Turning towards the assembled crowd, I bowed gracefully, causing the venue to erupt into thunderous applause.
The host allowed the adulation of the crowd a little room to breathe before gracefully motioning for quiet. “Thank you, Saint Carolina. Now, if you would please return to your place on the stage.” With the award ceremony concluded, I gave the high pontiff a respectful nod and made my way back to where I had previously been standing.
“Next, we are honored to receive closing remarks from His Holiness, the high pontiff.” The host stepped back to give space, and the paladin guards also retreated to the edges of the stage. The high pontiff turned to address the gathered assembly.
“Hearken unto me,” His Holiness solemnly began. “I extend my heartfelt gratitude to each of you for bearing witness to the Saintly Trials in their entirety.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the gathered assembly. His gaze swept majestically across the audience, then came to rest on the clergymen and paladins arrayed on the stage. “To the devoted members of the clergy, I offer my profound thanks. Your unwavering dedication and tireless commitment to service have carried us through the challenges that arose. Well done!”
The clergymen and paladins, overwhelmed by the direct acknowledgment from their revered leader—a figure so seldom seen and even less often heard—were visibly moved. Tears streamed down their faces as they absorbed the weight of his words. “We are merely humble servants,” they responded in unison, smiles of joy lighting up their tear-streaked faces.
Amid this deeply emotional atmosphere, the high pontiff turned his attention next to us, the Saintly candidates. “And to you, our distinguished candidates. We have all borne witness to your achievements here today. Stand proud, return to your nations with heads held high, knowing that you have participated in a spectacle for the ages!”
His words were both an acknowledgment of our efforts and a proclamation that for most, their journey here was at an end; a few sniffles and subdued sobs emerged from our side of the stage. His Holiness watched this display of vulnerability with a compassionate gaze, an expression that put me in mind of a grandfather watching over his beloved grandchildren. But then, as if to crown his profound address, His Holiness turned his attention to me. “Saint Carolina. What you have accomplished here today shall endure. Your name shall be celebrated for ages to come—O blessed child of God.”
At that phrase, the audience once again erupted into murmured conversations.
“As the events of the third trial have revealed,” His Holiness continued, “the power wielded by Saint Carolina transcends the bounds of the ordinary. I lacked the lucidity to declare it in the moments following her miraculous restoration of her sister, so let me speak with more clarity now: Saint Carolina is a bearer of Divinity.”
Even coming from the thirty-ninth high pontiff of our faith, with all the authority vested in him, the proclamation felt surreal. The audience fell silent, their minds grappling with the realization that perhaps the high pontiff’s earlier enraptured ramblings were indeed true.
“The light you beheld as Saint Carolina healed Lady Flora was the light of Divinity, shining at a purity and intensity that I have never seen, far outstripping my own humble allowance of power. Be assured, Princess Carolina is graced with the profound favor and blessing of our Lord—a truth of which I am unequivocally certain.” As if to underscore the conviction of his words, the high pontiff stuck his chin out, almost defiantly, daring someone to challenge him.
Nobody did, of course. They had all personally witnessed the wondrous nature of my power. If there were any grumblings of doubt, they were kept securely within.
“I am not asking that you believe me now, only that you keep your minds open to the notion. May God bless us all.” With these parting words, the high pontiff, accompanied by his paladins, gracefully departed the stage and returned to his seat.
That was it—the trials were over. Though they had felt like an eternity and a fleeting moment all at once—a paradox that defined the novelty of my experience—the imperial family of Malcosias had accomplished everything that we had set out to do. While a few lingering questions remained, they were not pressing, and for now I could bask in the overwhelming sense of achievement that now filled the air.
An involuntary smile spread across my face, breaking through my earlier resolve to maintain stoic composure until the very end. So much for respectable aloofness, I thought wryly. Clutching the scepter in one hand and the certificate in the other, I stood resolute and expectant, waiting for the host to officially declare an end to the event.
“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, and distinguished candidates, the inaugural Saintly Trials have officially concluded! Let us extend our deepest gratitude to all who participated and witnessed this historic event. Thank you all!” The emcee acknowledged the crowd as they burst into a final round of enthusiastic applause, and with that, it was over.