The morning bells of Hue Shrine echoed like a hymn through the halls, soft and solemn. The air felt different today—thicker, almost humming with energy. Or perhaps it was just me.
Combat had sharpened my body. But now… now it was time to awaken the part of myself that had been whispering beneath my skin since I was born.
The part that glowed.
The part that healed.
The part that might one day save—or doom—us all.
The marble-floor chamber we were brought to was not like the shrine’s other classrooms. It was circular, open to the sky above, with faint runes etched into every stone. In its center was a pool of still water that mirrored the clouds.
Matron Elaris stood near the pool, her long robes brushing the floor as she addressed us.
"To wield light magic is to know yourself. For it does not answer to anger, pride, or fear. It answers to truth," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "If you seek to use light to heal others, you must first stop hiding from your own wounds."
Meris shifted beside me, glancing over with a knowing look. I gave her a soft smile—but a tight one. I wasn’t sure I was ready to face my own shadows, especially with a vision still haunting me in silence.
The exercise began with meditation. We were told to kneel around the pool and close our eyes. To breathe. To call upon the warmth inside us. Not the fire of combat or adrenaline—but the slow, golden pulse of something deeper.
I tried. I truly did.
But all I saw behind my closed eyes… was blood. Screams. Purple and gold eyes twisted in pain.
My magic flickered but refused to rise.
After class, Meris tugged at my sleeve.
"You okay?" she asked, voice hushed as we walked down the corridor.
"I should be," I answered. "But it feels like… like there’s something tangled inside me. I can’t bring the light out. Not like I’m supposed to."
Meris smiled, nudging me gently. "You’re not supposed to be perfect, Sera. You’re supposed to be human. The Saintess thing? That’s just extra."
I laughed under my breath. "Extra… right."
She grew quiet for a moment, then said, "You know… I think your magic is there. But maybe it’s waiting for you to trust it. You’ve been fighting so hard just to survive, maybe now it’s asking you to stop fighting… and start healing."
Her words stayed with me the rest of the day.
Day 2 of Magical Arts Training
We were tasked with focusing light magic into our hands—only for a few seconds at first. Matron Elaris demonstrated, holding her palms out as a golden light bloomed like a sun between them.
Some lightmaidens struggled. Others managed a flicker. Meris conjured a soft glow from her fingertips that shimmered like morning dew. The instructor praised her gently.
And then it was my turn.
I exhaled.
This time, I didn’t push.
I didn’t force.
I simply opened.
And the warmth inside me rushed to meet my call.
Light bloomed in my hands—not flickering, not trembling—but pure and steady, like the heart of a flame. It bathed my face in golden warmth. I heard gasps from the others, but I didn’t look up.
For the first time… it felt like I had touched the core of what made me the Saintess.
Matron Elaris walked toward me, her expression unreadable.
"You are not only a vessel," she said softly. "You are the light itself. You must learn what to do with it."
I lowered my hands, the glow fading slowly. I felt… changed.
Tired, yes.
But also something else.
Whole.
Later that night, I sat by my window, fingers still tingling with the memory of light.
I could feel it now. I was beginning to understand. I was not trapped by fate. I was its challenger.
But as I looked to the stars, a new question took shape:
If my light is this strong… then why do the Saintesses disappear before they turn twenty?
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