The next day I started my duties as Shjasta’s fancy bodyguard. Which naturally meant that wherever she went, I would follow a couple of steps behind. As expected, quite boring!

Most of the morning, it seems, was reserved for the Princess to just sit on her throne while troves of people came to mostly complain: about bandits raiding the caravans, or the Janissaries’ beds being too damned stiff, or rising taxes “threatening” to make the merchants in the city bankrupt overnight! As the urgency of these matters required, Shjasta assured them they would be taken care of as soon as possible.

A few others asked for more mundane, practical stuff, such as having enough food to feed their children, or simply being able to walk on the streets without fear of being robbed. As much as the Princess wanted to help these people, the Four top Priestesses always reminded her that there wasn’t simply enough gold in the Treasury to help them all. Shjasta looked so frustrated!

After lunch, the Princess met with the city’s top officials to discuss the progress of the repairs to critical infrastructure in the city. Progress on the aqueduct had been slower than expected due to material shipments from the north being once again disrupted by banditry; eastern sections of the city wall were still presenting damage from the Anchlesian invasion that had yet to be repaired, and with no steady flow of money, work on those had been very slow.

The meeting after, with the Compact Emissaries, turned out slightly less boring when one of the Temple Heads, the good-looking lady in purple – the Head Confessor – was vehemently opposed to Ysle’s contribution to the Compact’s coffers being increased by three percent. After much arguing, the Emissaries had to settle with a “measly'' one percent extra – thousands of gold coins ending up in the Triumvirs’ purses instead of helping Ysle’s more urgent needs. That’s why I don’t like politics! Too much babbling to end up doing so little, especially for the ones that need the most help and look up to their leaders for answers!

At least the lunch was great…

When we returned to the Spire in the late afternoon, I noticed that a metal tub filled with warm water had been placed in my room. Alinah was there as well and bowed when I entered.

“Champion…” She started to say when I raised my hand to stop her momentarily.

“Can’t you just call me ‘Wraith’? Being called ‘Champion’ all day is tiresome!” I complained.

“I am not allowed such informality with the Princess’ Champion,” Alinah excused herself. “Is ‘Master Wraith’ more accommodating to your preferences?”

“Yeah… sure, whatever!” I waved my hand dismissively. Motioning to the tub, I asked: “What about this?”

“Oh, yes!” Alinah exclaimed. “By Her Highness’ order, usage of the bathroom by the Champion is prohibited. Accommodations had been made to provide him with a daily bath in his quarters.”

“Well… She runs the place, no?” I shrugged. “Still much better than what I had before, anyway.”

“If I may ask… Is everything all right?”

“Good enough, I guess… Now, do you mind leaving me alone?” I sighed. “Being pampered by cute chicks is good and all, but I prefer being by myself right now…”

“As you wish!” Alinah was about to leave when she turned around to add: “I’ll bring the garb you’ll wear for the Lighting Ceremony later.”

I waved my hand again to finally dismiss Alinah. She bowed and left the place, and as soon as the door closed I took my clothes off and entered the soothing water. It was so nice, and I was quite tired from the tedium of the day, that I fell asleep in the tub, only waking up when Amirah, the other servant, knocked on the door to inform me that supper was served.

Shjasta and I sat on opposite ends of a rectangular table, saying no words while we ate. My dinner was rather simple, as I prefer a lighter meal before sleep. I had some bread and cheese and took a few bites off an apple, while the Princess barely nibbled at a pear. She seemed lost in thought.

“You all right?” I asked.

Shjasta stared at me, a hint of concern in her eyes. “It’s... tomorrow’s ceremony. I’m… a bit nervous.”

“What’s so important about it, anyway? Besides being the last step of your unnecessarily long Ascension process?” I inquired.

“Have you ever been to an Yslean Temple?” She asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not a religious person.”

“You see,” The Princess continued. “Inside every Temple, there is a Sacred Flame. It is lit during the Temple’s consecration, and the Fire-keepers tend to it so it keeps burning indefinitely. But the one inside the Grand Temple is different.”

“How so?” I asked.

“This flame is ignited by every Princess during her Ascension; this is the Lighting Ceremony,” she explained. “The fire is lit using a sacred relic, reciting an ancient spell allegedly taught to the first Priestesses by the Gods.”

“Of course...” I said with a sarcasm that seemed to go past Shjasta. “Using a fancy lighter and saying a few magical words, what’s so special about it?”

“This flame is fed by the Princess’ very soul.” She elaborated. “It doesn’t require the constant tending of the Flame-keepers to remain alight. As long as the Princess lives, it will never falter. That is why it’s called the ‘Soul-fire’”

I wasn’t getting it. “So what troubles you? I see no reason to be concerned.”

“Well…” Shjasta hesitated. “What troubles me is what could mean… if the Soul-fire isn’t ignited…”

Not that did pique my interest! “Has it ever happened before?”

“No, not even once.” Shjasta shook her head. “But it’s said that if it happens, it would mean the Gods are displeased with the City and the Princess.”

“I think that’s a load of bull!” I laughed. “You guys give way too much importance to whatever your Gods think! Besides, it doesn’t even make sense! I mean, weren’t you chosen by the Gods to begin with?”

“Yes, but…” The Princess stammered.

“Then don’t worry too much about it!” I reassured her. “I’m sure the ceremony will be as pretty and boring as all the ones before, and your Soul-flame will be so high and bright it might burn the Temple down!” I chuckled.

“Is there anything in the World you actually have respect for?” Shjasta asked quite angrily.

“There is,” I smirked while pointing my right thumb at my body. The Princess simply sighed.

The next morning, after breakfast and putting on the clothes selected for me – a typical Yslean male outfit made in white and gold cloth – I met the Princess and her entourage at the base of the Spire. She was also dressed in a white and gold fabric so pristine that it produced a blinding blaze when hit by the morning sun’s rays.

It took us a few minutes to stroll through the Complex to reach the Temple’s entrance. The place was chock-full of people hailing us as we passed. The Four Heads were waiting right in front of the entrance, bowing as we approached. The oldest one, the Head Mentoress, said:

“Everything’s ready for the Ceremony, Your Highness. You and your Champion shall enter first.”

Shjasta nodded, and I noticed she was starting to get a bit nervous again. She managed to keep her shit together and walked in at a steady pace. And I walked right beside her.

The Temple was a large building, its outer walls forming a perfect circle. The domed ceiling stood at least one hundred feet above, with a large round opening in its center through which one could see the sky above. Right beneath the ceiling hole stood a circular platform, atop which was an enormous bronze brazier. The corridor we were following ended on a series of steps leading to the top of the platform.

The rest of the Temple’s floor was full of people: most of Ysle’s wealthy elite, as well as probably all of the Priestesses in the city, government officials, foreign diplomats and a few lucky commoners. I reckoned at least a thousand people stood there, bowing as the Princess and I approached the central platform. The Priestesses started chanting a song in a language I didn't understand.

We went up the steps solemnly, and as soon as we got to the top I realized how big the brazier really was; about seventy-five feet wide but quite shallow, looking more like a big pan atop a pedestal. The border of the plate was quite high, though, over twenty feet, so an ornate wooden platform was put in place for the ceremony. We climbed this platform as well, while the chanting of the Priestesses continued.

Atop this temporary platform stood a young Flame-keeper. She was holding a medium-sized box made of solid gold; it was cubic and quite ornate, its gold plating carved with intricate geometric patterns and runes. Considering that Ysleans prefer curved shapes in their designs, I found this very odd.

The Priestess opened the box, and inside it was an item unlike any I’ve ever seen in my life. It was a blue crystal, flawlessly cut to a square-based pyramid shape, its faces polished to perfection. A tiny spark of bluish-white light shone inside it.

The crystal pyramid was affixed to a metal setting by clasps that held its base’s vertices. The metal was golden in color, but it didn’t look like actual gold; it was adorned with patterns and runes like the ones on the box. The setting was also pyramid-shaped and the same size as the crystal, making the entire assembly look like two pyramids joined at their bases.

“Your Highness,” The Flame-keeper said. “This is the Soul Prism, a boon granted by the Gods to our people as a symbol of Their Divine Presence. As ruler of Their City, you have to light the Sacred Fire as a sign of Their Favor and Protection. May it shine Bright and True!”

Shjasta approached the box and took the artifact in her hands. The metal base had a couple of indentations that served as handles; using these as support for her grasp, the Princess approached the border of the wooden platform and raised the Prism over her head. The faint glow inside the crystal started to become brighter, and all the people inside the temple knelt in awe and reverence.

I knelt too, but only because the Head Mentoress motioned me to do so, her stern gaze silently asking me to refrain from doing anything disrespectful.

While holding the Prism over her head, Shjasta started to recite a prayer of sorts, in the same language as the chanting, that as this point became louder, more solemn. This seemed to make the Prism shine even brighter.

“O Lords of Creation, who are Myriad, Nameless and Unknowable; please heed my humble prayer!” the Princess continued, this time using the Common. “The Heart of Your City lies cold and dark, devoid of Your Divine Light and Warmth. On this day I offer You my very Soul as tinder to light it ablaze once more. May your Divine Light shine true once more! As It Shall Be!”

“As It Shall Be!” everyone else in the temple other than me said.

Then the Princess said in a surprisingly powerful, commanding voice:

“Ignas Anima!”

The crystal shone with great intensity, producing a light so powerful that I had to close my eyes. The light also felt warm. Perhaps there is a bit of truth in the Princess binding her soul to the flame, for the warmth radiating from the crystal was soothing, gentle. It was as if my soul had always been steeped in cold darkness, and this light dispelled all that away. And it seemed everyone in the temple felt the same way, as I could hear gasps of awe and bliss.

But then this soothing, kind warmth started to fade back into the cold black. And even though my eyes were still closed, I could already feel that something was wrong…

I opened my eyes to see the light in the crystal fading rapidly until becoming even fainter than it was when Shjasta first took hold of the relic. Worse yet, the brazier in front of her remained dark. Not even a speck of fire, holy or otherwise, shone in it.

And the initial awe and bliss the people felt became confusion, then despair.

“The Soul-Fire didn’t ignite…”

“The brazier remains dark…”

“Did the ritual fail… or is it…?”

“The Gods… do not favor Ysle and its Princess!”

Shjasta finally lowered the faded artifact and turned around to face us, her face riddled with distress.

“What… what happened? The Gods didn’t hear my prayer!” she cried.

“Hey, hey!” I said while approaching her. I took the damned artifact from her hands and placed it back in the box. “Forget about the Gods for once and listen: this is just an act, it doesn’t mean anything!”

“It does!” She insisted. “It means… the Gods have abandoned Ysle… Abandoned me...”

“We can talk about this later.” Mother Zafira said. “For now I think you should return to your quarters and rest. Champion!” the elder Priestess looked at me. “Please escort the Princess. The people are growing restless, so fulfill your duty and protect her!”

I took Shjasta's hands and pulled her gently to make her snap out of her trance and follow me. As we went down the wooden platform and the stone steps back to the corridor, the people around us looked quite distraught, some of them even yelling very harsh words at the same Princess that until only a couple of minutes before they practically worshiped. What the hell?

“What have you done!? You doomed us all!”

“Blessed Princess, my mother!”

“What are you going to do about this?”

“Fuck off!” I yelled back at them angrily. “Wanna blame someone for this, blame your damned Gods!”

Suddenly a particularly altered man jumped at us, a dagger on his hand. Damn if these guys take their religion seriously!

“You are a false Princess!” He exclaimed. “You must answer for this travesty!”

The crazed bastard attempted to attack Shjasta, which was simply paralyzed with fear. I drew my sword and with a quick upwards swing I disarmed the man. I pummeled him in the right temple next, rendering him unconscious. It seemed that more people were about to follow this deranged fool’s example, but the Temple guards finally took action. The place had descended in utter chaos when we finally made it out.

Holy crap! All of this nonsense because a glorified bonfire didn’t light? Maybe the Gods are displeased with their sheer craziness!

More guards were rushing to the Temple while Shjasta and I returned to the Spire. While the elevator took us back up, I checked her to make sure she wasn’t hurt.

“I… failed them… The Gods… My people...” she started to sob, covering her face with her hands.

I put my hands on her shoulders.

“I’ve only known you for a couple of days, and while I still think you weren’t the best choice to rule this city to begin with, I can see you are genuinely doing your best. I will give you that. You failed no one!”

I admit I suck at pep talks. But it seemed that at least I managed to get a smile on her tear-drenched face.

“You are terrible at cheering up people, you know?”

“Yeah…” I shrugged. “Now try to not think too much about what happened. I’m sure this won’t be a big deal after all… you’ll see…”

The other thing I suck at is predicting the future, big time!