Still, I accepted their accolades with grace. If their hearts were uplifted, then mine was too; my guilt was not theirs to bear. I swept my gaze over the joyful faces of the capital’s populace, content to let their joyful cries wash over me...until my attention was caught by a glint of silver flashing in the crowd—like that of platinum-blond hair catching the light. Was Father here? It seemed unlikely. He was meant to be at King Phillip’s side, the guest of honor at the sacred flame ceremony.
Then who else could it be? A stranger with hair of the same striking hue? I blinked a few times. The flash had been so brief, perhaps it was merely a trick of my mind. Pushing the thought aside, I refocused my smile and continued waving to the crowd.
In what felt like mere moments, the parade came to an end, and our convoy rolled to a stop in the central plaza. The sheer number of citizens who had gathered was nothing short of astonishing—a vast sea of people filling every inch of the square. Faced with the sight of so many standing shoulder to shoulder, I breathed out an awed “Goodness...” Before I could fully absorb the magnitude of it, the coachman opened the carriage door, signaling that it was time to alight. Instantly, I felt the weight of countless gazes swivel to us, all eyes in the plaza fixing upon the arrival of the Saint. The gathered multitude fell silent.
Ed and Teodore stepped out first, ensuring the area was secure. After a moment, Ed turned and extended his arm to me. “Lina, here.”
I thanked him softly, and with my hand securely in his, I spurred my stiff limbs towards movement. I felt my face start to slacken, the warmth of his touch threatening to unravel the composure I so carefully maintained, but I steeled myself. I was the first Saint; I could not allow my personal feelings to tarnish the dignity of this sacred role, nor would I let a single mistake on my part cast a shadow over those who would follow.
With a poise befitting one who carried the hopes and expectations of Celestia’s people in my heart, I descended from the carriage gracefully. As my heels made contact with the pavement, the sharp clack echoed through the plaza, and the crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer. A sea of hands lifted, waving with fervent joy.
Pride swelled within me. To be greeted with such overwhelming love and genuine enthusiasm was beyond anything I could have ever hoped to experience. The tiniest bit of confidence crept into my being, and I held my head high. Though a bashful smile doggedly continued an attempt to break through my calm facade, I held it in check with every ounce of my will, preserving the solemnity of the moment.
Just then, Collett approached and took a knee before us. “Commander, I offer you this,” he intoned ceremoniously, presenting what appeared to be a wooden stake that flared slightly at one end—the torch, I realized.
Ed accepted the unlit brand, and with a swift motion he ignited the flared end with his fire magic. The torch sprang to life, a bright, crimson flame roaring at its tip—the very sparks with which I would ignite the sacred flame. While a torch lit by conventional means would have sufficed, we had all decided that, given our access to a fire mage, it would add to the spectacle of the moment to use magic. Magical fire, after all, carried an additional advantage of being safer, as it was able to be extinguished at a moment’s notice—provided the mage could maintain control, of course...
I stole a glance at my husband; his gaze was locked on the flame, his face taut with concentration. It was clear that all his mental energy was focused on fine-tuning the fire’s intensity. You can do this, Ed! I silently cheered him on.
After what felt like an eternity of painstaking adjustment, Ed finally seemed satisfied with the steadiness of the flame. He handed the torch to me with the utmost care, as though entrusting me with a perilous artifact. “Careful, Lina,” he urged, his voice tinged with concern.
“I will be. Thank you.” I passed the high pontiff’s scepter to Owen for safekeeping and cautiously accepted the torch, the live flame dancing mere inches from my grasp. Ed’s eyes were fixed on me, his anxiety palpable as he monitored my every move. Though his expression remained inscrutable, I could sense his protective instinct simmering just beneath the surface, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of trouble. I can handle a torch, darling, I wanted to assure him.
Holding in the exasperated sigh that threatened to escape, I gave the tiniest shrug of my shoulders instead. I tightened my grip on the torch, grasping it firmly with both hands, and began my solitary journey towards the brazier—Ed and Teo wouldn’t be accompanying me any further. But before I took my first step, I paused and glanced back.
“Ed, you’ll be watching over me from right there, won’t you?” I asked.
“Always,” he replied with a confident nod, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
His response warmed my heart. I turned back and willed my trembling limbs forward. Each step was careful and deliberate as I approached the brazier. My head held high, my expression carefully composed, I felt the weight of the plaza’s collective gaze upon me, their eyes tracing my every movement. The evening’s chill licked at the flame, causing it to crackle softly, while the breeze teased the edges of my shawl, the sheer fabric brushing lightly against my skin.
The brazier loomed before me, an exquisite piece of craftsmanship—an ovular objet d’art, adorned with intricate carvings and imagery that spoke of its sacred purpose. The magical flame required no tinder or firewood; all I needed to do was touch the torch to the wick that lay within. The task sounded simple enough, but as I stood before the vessel of the sacred flame for the first time, the reality of the moment overwhelmed me, and a wave of nervousness washed over me.
I expelled a breath to steady myself. Dipping my head with respect towards the holy object, I took one final step forward. The entire plaza seemed to hold its breath in a dead silence, the soft whisper of the wind the only sound to reach my ears. I bent slightly and gently tossed the torch into the brazier. Then, as we had rehearsed, I spun gracefully on my heel to face the crowd and spread my arms wide.
“In the name of the Heavenly Guardian, I, Saint Carolina, herald the season of Noel! May the light of our Lord’s blessings descend upon and favor every soul within the Kingdom of Celestia!” I proclaimed, my voice ringing out as powerfully as I could manage.
As the last syllable left my lips, a brilliant pillar of fire erupted behind me. The flame roared and crackled, sending a cascade of harmless sparks into the air. The mesmerizing crimson reflection danced in the pupils of all those present, and a wave of awe swept through the gathered masses. Cheers and applause erupted, the voice of every man, woman, and child filling the air with joyous celebration.
These little theatrics had clearly served their purpose—Ed had done a magnificent job of making the flame a true spectacle. I glanced back in the direction I had come, finding him standing there, his gaze fixed on the blazing fire behind me, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. He truly is giving his all to control that flame, I thought with a touch of amusement. A smile finally broke through my composed facade as I stepped away from the brazier. At that moment, Ed’s tense expression softened, and I saw him relax, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly in relief, no longer burdened by the need to keep the flame from leaping out at me.
I began to cross back to the waiting carriage, but I was almost immediately halted by the cries of the people:
“Lady Saint, we’re so grateful! Mana-beasts didn’t trouble us yesterday, all thanks to you! Bless you, truly!”
“Lady Saint, please, take these! They’re the best thing I’ve got in my shop, and folks can’t get enough of them!”
“Lady Saint, you’ll come back soon, right? Celestia’s always got a place for you!”
“O, blessed am I to have seen the Saint with my own eyes!”
The outpouring of gratitude and warm welcomes didn’t end there. I bit back tears. For someone like me—the Sanchez family disgrace—to be recognized and embraced so fully... Oh, the happiness that surged within me was beyond words.
Clinging to the joy that filled my heart, I turned to face the crowd, determined to etch this moment into my memory. The beaming smiles, the brilliant flame burning brightly, the sounds of their cheers and adulation...
Oh, how glad am I to have become the Saint.