I dreamed of when I was not the Saintess. I did not have many memories of that time, just the fuzzy impressions of early childhood. In the dream, my father smiled at me and called my name.

My name...

I woke up slowly, the dream pulling at my consciousness. My body felt like lead, and my eyelids were too heavy to open. I heard rustling nearby, making me uneasy. Gradually, memories of the Ceremony began to float to the surface of my mind. Sleep pulled at me, but after what may have been only a minute or an hour I was finally able to crack my eyes open. At first my retinas felt as though they were being burned as though I'd stared straight into the noon sun, leaving flashing shadows in my vision, but eventually my sight cleared.

I was in my own bed. Night had fallen, and the light that had felt so overwhelming was only the dim illumination of a candle. The room was empty but a wet cloth, still cool, covered my forehead. I saw a pitcher and a clay cup on my bedside table, and I suddenly became conscious of an overwhelming thirst. My mind was fuzzy, though, and for an indeterminate amount of time I could only stare at the pitcher, throat aching. Eventually, something clicked into place, and I decided to try and sit up. I did, and drank cup after cup of water, the pitcher seemingly endless. Then I blinked slowly, opening my eyes, and realized I had not moved at all.

Ah. So I had a fever, then. The cloth suggested that someone – probably Emilia – had been taking care of me. Perhaps she had needed to step out for a moment. I felt as though I had been awake and alone for a very long time, but I knew that fever dreams could make moments feel like an age, so it was likely that she would be back soon.

Just as I thought that, the door opened, but I could tell by the footsteps that it was not Emilia who entered; she always walked with quick, lightly tapping steps. I turned my head as much as I dared, angling it slightly toward the door to find an unwelcome face.

"So the Saintess finally awakens." Kielan's voice was openly mocking. At least, I thought it was. I knew from experience that a brain–melting fever could negatively affect a person's judgement.

Keeping that in mind, I opted for silence.

The reflection of the candlelight flickered eerily in his dark eyes, the shadows of the room making his pale face seem even more angular and harsh than usual. He approached my bedside slowly, eyes scanning my face.

"Drinking Lumina's tears twice in two days should have killed you. It still might." His mouth twisted, and I could not tell if he was eager for such an outcome or regretful. A small, childish part of me wished it was the latter, even though I knew rationally that Kielan would only ever feel regret for me the way one might feel regret at the loss of a useful tool. But sick as I was at that moment, I remembered how desperate I had once been for this man's kindness and acceptance. I had never once received either from him.

As though to emphasize this point, his next words were undisguisedly cruel. "Was it a game to you? Holding the temple's power hostage with your selfishness? Your life belongs to the Order of Lumina."

He leaned over me, his pitch–black hair brushing the blankets.

"Did you think you could hurt me by acting out in front of that bastard soldier? He is nothing."

My body felt like ice, and my muscles shook. I wanted to hate the man who stared down at me, but immobilized and delirious as I was I only felt fear and shame. Every memory of his control over me held my mind hostage and I could only meet his eyes and tremble. If I had been more clear–headed, I might have pointed out that I had not actually been given instructions. I might have drunk more water than usual, but it was not as though I had done anything but my duty. Kielan might have expected me to play along when he signaled for me to give a prophecy without drinking, but in the end I had acted only as he taught me. Lying here now, I forgot all that and was simply a disappointment.

Kielan smiled softly, almost gently. "Don't be so reckless in the future, Saintess. Your duty is sacred, but your divinity is weak and your soul is flawed. You can't afford to play games."

Three days later, my fever finally broke.

Erik  

When I first fought demonic beasts, the thing that had scared me the most was their blood. It was purple, and it reflected light in an unsettling iridescent rainbow like vegetable oil in the sun. I knew that demonic beasts had purple blood – everyone did – but seeing it was something else. The blood stank too, not metallic like red blood did, but a sulfurous smell like rotting eggs. I was only 13 then, tall for my age and skilled with the sword but still just a child. An older knight, Ivan Pendleton, had saved me from being gored by a beast's horn. I still had nightmares of Ivan falling under the weight of that beast. Ivan had survived, but only barely.

"Captain. All beasts from the last wave have been killed. They are waiting for your orders to okay the clean–up."

Dame Augusta, a tall knight with long auburn hair and a prominent scar on her left cheek, approached me cautiously. She was my second–in–command, and the only one of my knights brave enough to approach me so soon after a battle.

"Vice Captain. Casualties."

It was a question, but I spoke in a monotone. Augusta understood.

"Five severely wounded. Sir Orin is among those badly injured, and the healers say it may still go either way. The others have just minor injuries."

I nodded slowly. Five knights incapacitated and one on the verge of death was a heavy loss for the second order which was a company of only thirty knights, but this had been no ordinary incursion. There had been over a hundred demonic beasts from this rift over the last two days. Only now, with the rift finally closed again, could we rest.

"Clean up can begin. Is there any word on reinforcements?"

"Not yet."

I had requested aid when I left the Temple after hearing what the prophecy, but no one had come. If more knights came now, they could at least help them clear and purify the land now blighted by purple blood and gore. Already the plants in the area were rotting away, and blood had seeped into the small lake, turning the water black and cloudy. If they did not begin to purify the area, soon the fish would start to die, then the waterfowl.

Augusta hesitated before stepping away, which was out of character for her.

"Speak."

"If we had come with only half the company..." She trailed off.

"I know."

Originally, we had only stationed fifteen knights at the main pass, a good three miles south of the incursion site. If we hadn't moved, the rush of demonic beasts would have quickly laid waste to Diel and Lowen before moving further through the scattering of villages around the Azure Pass before we could have stop them. Even if we had been in the right place, with just fifteen knights, there would have been deaths, not just injury. Probably many deaths.

"Did you really speak with her? The Saintess?"

My mouth tightened. The image of a woman shuddering on the ground in a dim, eerie light was burned into my mind.

"Yes."

"Why would the prophecy change? Did – did they explain?"

Did they lie? I knew what her real question was. Doubting the temple and the followers of Lumina was uncommon among the average residents of the Empire and the nobility, but within the Second Order and others who fought at the frontline against demonic beast incursions, it was becoming the norm. I had made an effort to hide my growing frustrations and suspicions from my company, knowing that encouraging and spreading conspiracy theories without proof was dangerous for my knights, but Augusta and Elias knew how deep my distrust of the Temple ran. Up until now, I knew they had still thought me overly suspicious.

"They did not explain." I did not tell her about the Ceremony. I hadn't told Elias anything either. When I left the temple, the immediate focus had been stopping this incursion, and I honestly was not sure what it was I had witnessed. I had expected a charlatan, maybe evidence of political machinations, and instead I had seen raw power and a glimpse of a truth that I did not understand.

"We will talk later, Vice Captain." I turned around, not waiting for her response. There were wounded to care for and demon blood to clean first.

The sulfurous stink burned his nose, familiar and ugly, but it was the memory of Priest Kieran's cold, expressionless face that unsettled me.

Even you have your own duty, do you not? Captain Erik Oesten.

The problem was that I was not sure what my duty was anymore.