After I set off for that journey against Corruption, I swore it to myself—that I would never return or see that man again. That’s why I had never once imagined what I would do if I had encountered him once more. So when that man walked through the door—a man with loosely tied and faded brown hair with almost aimless purple eyes—the first thing I felt was a great confusion.

That… isn’t Father.

He bowed lightly, hands neatly folded in front of him in a proper, clean manner in front of the prince. Father never bowed toward anyone, even when he and the King shared the same level of status. Yet, those were definitely the pope’s robes, as well as the long strip of golden embroidered fabric that laid upon his shoulders and clothed arms. Moreover, he entered with two paladins by his side, definitely higher ranked given their uniforms. So then… why is it not Father wearing the pope’s clothing?

“Please, forgive our intrusion, Your Highness.” His voice was soft and benevolent, foreign to me entirely. It was completely different from Father’s, a tone that always demanded respect and authority. The only times when Father had a different voice was when in public or speaking to the priests and paladins who held potential, but even then his public displays of charity were nothing but an act upon lies for his own benefit. I couldn’t tell at all from this man, whether he was genuine or performing just the same.

“There will be no offense taken so please be at ease, Your Holiness.” It was alien to me. The golden haired prince and the man continued to exchange the required pleasantries with the proper amount of respect for their status without a sense of closeness nor enmity. There was always animosity between Father and the King, moreso on Father’s part. I observed vaguely while sorting through my thoughts.

Could it be that Father was replaced? I had been away from the temple for so long after all, so there was definitely the possibility. My fingers dug into the fabric of my dress as I felt myself stiffen. Yes. It’s been four years, nearly five, since then. 

Like a pig to the slaughter… sold off to save the kingdom the day I turned fourteen.

The man in the pope’s robes turned to me, and I couldn’t stop myself from flinching instinctively. The paladins beside him kneeled in unison, hands to their side or resting on their knee as the older man bowed respectfully with closed eyes and a slight smile.

“I greet Her Holiness, Daughter of Surya, the Saintess Mayari.”

As he rose to straighten his posture, he opened his eyes. Flashes of cold, arctic blue overlapped with purple forced me to tear my gaze away, averting my eyes like a child. Even if it’s someone different, I just…

“... You needn’t be so polite with me.”

I can’t separate him and Father.

As I slowly returned my gaze, me and the paladin to his left met each others’ eyes. It was a young man of tanned skin and blonde hair, who stared silently for a moment before offering a polite smile. Despite the seemingly warm friendliness, I couldn’t help but stiffen. It was a familiar welcoming smile I had seen numerous times in the temple. Back when I had only been brought in recently, I had tried to play with the other children in the temple the same way I did with the children in the alleys.

The temple children, too, had smiled in a friendly and welcoming manner before giggling away after dumping cold buckets of dirty cleaning water on my head.

No. Everyone in the temple is the same. When the day came and I was revealed to be the Daughter of Surya, everyone who had mistreated me had suddenly changed their behavior to placate me with falsities. The only one who was different in those days was the blue haired boy under my Father’s wing, who had treated me like any other. Nothing changed between us when I was revealed to be the Saintess. He was like an older brother to me, Kaspar, who was so skilled in divinity that even Father thought he was the fated knight of the sun.

But then, on that day… the day I was to go on my journey, the King had suddenly introduced you. My sun, my Shivani. Weariness began to weigh in my heart. Oh, Shivani, where are you?

“Why, of course I do,” the supposed pope started to say. “Naturally, we would be regarded as equals status-wise.”

He drifted off with an almost jolly gaze. Despite the strange and unfocused air they gave, they stared right at me to my core. Uncomfortably, I cast my eyes downward just to avoid them. It was as if I was being watched in a manner where no matter what I did or where I went, I would never be able to hide. “However, it is only natural to first respectfully greet and retrieve the Saintess…”

“... for whom we’ve all waited for a thousand years.”

“...” Time seemed to hiccup for just a second, the freezing stillness in my composure I tried to keep faltering in an instant as his words weighed into my mind with a skin crawling horror. Immediately, I whipped my head up to meet his nonchalant smile. As if what he had just said was not a lie, but a casual truth that was known to everyone. Not a person in the room flinched at his words, perceiving that impossibility as reality.

“... what?”

In that moment, a multitude of factors raced in my mind as blood rushed backwards through my veins, my limbs numb and cold. A shiver ran through my spine and the hairs on my skin turned up on edge as one by one the things I’ve noticed became painfully clear to me. The ominous and darkened world I was used to seemed oddly bright when I woke, the fear of monsters or corruption long gone. The unfamiliar faces of the pope and his paladins, and the pristine view of the outside world from the window of a long flourished peaceful afternoon that could be taken as normality.

My voice was caught up in my dry throat.

“One… one thousand years?”