Arc 1, Chapter 1

As Long as It Is My Duty

The Saintess

The visions were getting worse. Fall had arrived, the leaves turning red and gold and brown, and I was wilting alongside them, colorless against their vibrancy.

It used to be that visions came only right after I drank the Holy Water during the ceremony. I could never forget how much Priest Kielan scorned me when I first came to the temple. 

"The previous Saints all had foresight so profound that they were blessed with visions just by stepping into the cavern of the Spring of Blessings. Only a faithless girl could be so insincere in her purpose that she would need to drink the Holy Water itself in order to hear the Goddess." 

The old words echoed in my ears as I straightened my collar in the mirror. My white hair looked almost wispy today, pulled half up with a silver ribbon leaving waist-length tresses tucked behind my ears. My pale purple eyes looked paler against my dark circles, even darker than normal after a night of fever and fitful half-visions. That's what I call visions I have that tell me only small, inconsequential pieces of the future. They were always personal and pointless, showing me things like what I might eat for breakfast, or how I could stub my toe against the dresser. They never gave me enough information for me to avoid the discomforts they predicted, but they always left me exhausted, much like the proper visions the priests used for prophecies. Unlike those visions, though, the half-visions appeared at random times, regardless of whether or not I was around Holy Water or not, and lately they were happening multiple times a night, and most recently they'd begun to occur during the day as well. I hadn't told anyone about the half-visions. It was just another sign that I wasn't a good Saintess, and they were useless to everyone else anyway.

When I was younger, as a child desperate for acceptance, I did all I could to fix it. I wanted to prove I could be useful.  And so, when they said I was not strong enough to do my job, I was terrified. When they gave me the diluted Holy Water used for baptism and told me to dip my hand into it, I did, even as my skin grew red and started to blister. When they told me that was no longer enough and I needed to consume it, I drank it, crying silently but never objecting. And when they told me it was still not enough, that I needed to drink pure Holy Water, I did that too, and I endured the terrible pain that came afterward without complaint. 

Perhaps I would have objected sooner to this treatment if it hadn't worked, but each time they increased my exposure to the Holy Water, my visions grew stronger. I still wasn't as good a Saint as I ought to have been, but the priests kept adjusting the dose, ensuring that I could channel the prophecies they needed. And the prophecies were important. Without them, the Empire had no way to predict the timing and location of demonic beast incursions. I admit that my faith in the temple and even the goddess grew weaker year after year, but without me, there would be no prophecies at all. If I were a better Saintess, perhaps I could do this without breaking my body. 

And that is what I tell myself every morning. If I were better, I could do this more easily, but because I am just myself, an inferior Saint, I can only do this much. But that's all the more reason I should do my best. And someday a better Saint than me will appear - and I don't even have to die for that to happen. Really, if I think about it that way, I'm quite lucky. Usually, the current Saint has to die before a new Saint emerges from the new generation, sometimes years later. It took two years after the last Saint died before they found me, for example. But my vision from 9 years ago showed me that I'm not actually a weak Saintess, rather, I am not a Saintess at all. I'm a fake, and someday, a real Saint will appear. 

But really, no matter how much that scares me, that's a good thing! If I'm a fake, I can be replaced. Someone else will do better than me. I'm not inadequate at doing my job, I'm simply the wrong person for it. I just need to wait until the proper person shows up to do what I'm not able to do, and then I can step aside. As for what comes after... at least the people of the Empire will be safer in someone else's hands. It would be greedy of me to wish for a place for myself after failing at my divine purpose. 

I patted my cheeks vigorously, trying to bring some semblance of life to my pale, nearly grey cheeks. The resulting pink looked garish rather than lively, and I turned away from the mirror, not wanting to face myself anymore. Just as I stepped backward, my attendant Emilia came into my room, glancing at me carelessly as she brought in a tray with wheat porridge and milk.

"Saintess, you are meeting with Priest Kielan at the seventh bell." Her voice was tired, tugging at my conscience. I'd heard that Saints were usually honored in the Great Temple, but ever since I came here, the status that came with the position had eroded year by year. Being the Saint's attendant should have been a respected position. Before I turned ten, I had had three attendants, all well-trained and respected, but three became two, and two became just Emilia. And over time, she had lost more and more status. A long time ago, Emilia used to be kind to me, and I often wished she would be again, but I'd learned not to hope for it. It had been a long time since she had last looked at me with warmth.

"Seventh bell?" I asked, hoping I'd misheard her. Kielan's office was on the opposite side of the temple, and the sun had risen almost an hour ago. I would be late even if I left immediately.

"Yes, Saintess." Emilia answered curtly.

Swallowing my disappointment and looking regretfully at the food she had just brought, I did not object. It wasn't Emilia's fault, I told myself - because even if it actually was her fault, I had no power to change her behavior, and if I was honest, deep down I was still a scared child who only wanted her to be on my side again. So I grabbed my robe and pulled it on quickly before leaving without a word of complaint, not even when Emilia stayed behind instead of accompanying me as she should have. The walk across the temple grounds was chilly with the frost of the season, but I savoured it, the cold air waking my still sluggish mind and the start of a new season reminding me that the world was still turning outside even as my own soul was feeling more and more stagnant.

Kielan's office was a dark, cramped space. I'd always wondered why - he was a prominent figure within the temple, so much so that he had significant amount of political power in the outside world of nobles and imperial officials. Why then would he choose an office without a single window? He might claim it was due to his piety, but I knew his heart was not pure enough for such a thing. Over the years, the whispers of greed and envy had grown louder and louder whenever he spoke to me. If I had to guess, he chose this office so he might appear pious and ascetic to those he brought here for business. Appearances were everything in the temple, after all. I'd never participated in the political games of the aristocracy, but I imagine it's all pretty much the same inside and outside the temple once it comes down to it.

"Saintess." Kielan was sitting in his desk chair, a heavy oaken piece of furniture with glossy stained leather that creaked and squeaked as he shifted around. He did not stand when I came in. 

"Priest." Usually, I was more polite. But I was bone-tired, and I hated this man. It was only recently that I'd grown to accept that I hated some things. A Saint wasn't supposed to hate, after all, and I'd only gradually come to believe that I really was just a wholly fake one rather than an inferior one. The realization was actually a bit freeing when it came to stuff like this. 

Kielan sneered faintly, but did not nitpick my etiquette. Unusual. He also did not offer me a seat. That was usual.

"Your prophecy yesterday was insufficient."

I resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes, Priest." I wanted him to explain, of course, so we could move on. But asking any questions was just asking for trouble, and it was better to let him slowly get to the point rather than detour into a scolding.

He sneered again, this time more obviously, showing off his gleaming white teeth. 

"Today, you'll repeat the ceremony. This time an Imperial representative will be in attendance. Apparently the Western Border is... restless. Vague predictions and incomplete information is not enough to defend the Empire. You need to do your duty properly."

I bristled despite my best efforts to remain calm. 

"I was able to give a clear location and date for the next incursion on the border. What about that is insufficient?"

Kielan scowled and started to tap his left forefinger against his desk in a slow, steady rhythm. The sound echoed in my mind, dredging up painful memories that I swallowed back with difficulty. 

"What would you know? You gave us impressions at best. The priests assign meaning to what you saw, and what you saw was not enough to predict the next attack. A girl who hasn't left the Capital since she wore pigtails wouldn't know the geography of the Great Divide, and a Saintess as incompetent with holy power as you are can't reliably predict timing just from your visions."

I stayed silent, but it was a near thing. My hands were in fists hidden by my indigo sleeves, shaking with the effort it took to restrain myself. I was not as powerful as I should be, but my predictions had never been wrong. He was right that I didn't have the authority to assign meaning to my visions by myself, but there was nothing unreasonable or unusal about the conclusions I had presented yesterday. And this was not the first time Kielan had told me one of my visions wasn't good enough for the Empire to use. Did that mean he wasn't sharing the information I'd obtained at all? What about the defense of the border? This last vision had been an ordeal to witness, showing me not only the incursion site but also the bloody attacks of the demonic beasts on the nearby villages later. My only comfort was that my visions did not show an absolute future. You could always change what they showed if you acted in time. But Kielan was saying that no one would be acting on what I'd seen.

Everything was starting to look a bit blurry. I hadn't slept more than an hour last night between my fever and my half-vision episodes, and the full vision yesterday had only been torn from me after drinking four full spoonfuls of pure Holy Water, enough to kill even the High Priest. The screams of the dying villagers I'd seen echoed hollowly in my head. I counted my heartbeats, trying to ignore Kielan's finger tapping. One, two, three, four... 

The priest shook his head at me as I stared at him, his long black hair shining an eerie gold in the yellowish light of his lamps.

"The Imperial representative will be here at noon. They've been given approval to witness the ceremony itself." 

It was clear from his tone that Kielan was disgusted. Honestly, I agreed with the sentiment, albeit for different reasons. An outsider, witnessing the ceremony? Everything in the ceremony was meant to be sacred and holy, completely sacrosanct. That was to say, it was supposed to be a secret. If an outsider saw how my visions worked, they would notice that I was not a proper Saintess. And while I thought it was inevitable that it would become public knowledge someday, and while I even hoped it might become public sooner rather than later, that did not mean anyone should learn about it before a new Saint appeared. If I was deposed now, who would provide prophecies? No one else could withstand the amount of Holy Water needed to induce powerful visions. A proper Saint with perfect resonance would be able to channel prophecies just by standing near the Spring of Blessings, and I was a pale imitation who needed to consume Holy Water to channel the same prophecies. I was obviously a cheap imitation of the real thing, a substitute. But I was also the only substitute. There was no other option available. Even if there was, I couldn't pass off this role easily; my method risked death and madness with every ceremony. I'd been raised for it and wasn't good for anything else anyway, so why risk another person to do my job when I still could? 

Those were my justifications, of course, but if I were honest with myself, my main motivation was rather selfish. Even now, I just wanted to be needed. Even if my divine purpose wasn't truly mine, and even if it was too heavy for me to bear, that did not change the fact that it was all I had. I might not really want it, but I also did not want it taken from me, not unless it was by someone who could take proper care of it. If someone was going to take my place and leave me purposeless and alone, I wanted to know that that person truly deserved that place more than I did.

"Leave!" Kielan's voice was much louder than before. I realized it wasn't the first time he'd said that. I'd been silent too long, and in my disorientation I'd missed what he'd just said before. I wasn't sure how long I'd been distracted. There was no point in asking him to repeat it - I couldn't change what was about to happen no matter what, and Kielan wouldn't repeat himself if I asked anyway. Best case scenario, I'd earn myself a night without supper.

The walk back ought to have felt warmer than it did. The sun was brighter than before, and there was no more frost on the grass in the courtyards, the ice having melted into heavy drops of dew on the green blades, dragging their tips towards the wet soil. Nevertheless, the air felt colder to me now.

When I arrived at my room, Emilia had long since left. I sat at my old wooden desk where the breakfast tray sat and moved stiffly, first drinking the now ice-cold milk, then eating the congealed porridge spoonful by spoonful. After I finished, I stared blankly at the stack of books piled on the side of my desk for a long moment before a wave of nausea suddently rippled through me. I rushed to the small bathroom attached to my bedroom, losing my breakfast in a moment and undoing all my effort in consuming it in the first place. There was no point in being upset about it or asking for more food, I thought to myself dully, so I washed my face and rinsed my mouth. Without removing my robe or my shoes, I laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows move slowly as I waited for noon to arrive. The sound of the clock counting the seconds reminded me of Kielan's finger tapping on his desk, and my head throbbed with each tick.

Toc, toc, toc, toc...