Written by: Loki<3
The great banquet of Alvareth was a masterwork of royalty — crystal chandeliers glowing like captured constellations, orchestras playing in slow, reverent harmony, and tables heavy with golden goblets and the richest food from every corner of the realm. Every noble stood now, eyes glued to the Saintess as she made her way toward the thrones.
The king and queen sat atop a dais, robed in silver and violet — the royal colors of Alvareth. Between them stood their pride, their miracle: Prince Caius, upright and shining like the very star that blessed his birth.
But even his glow dimmed as Seraphina Everen Althas stepped forward.
She did not bow — saints do not bow to kings.
Instead, she placed a hand gently over her chest and dipped her head, offering the blessing of presence. A custom only few in the world had the right to perform. Behind her, Auren mirrored her every move, head slightly tilted, eyes wide as he stared at the sea of nobles and knights before him.
"Your Majesty," Seraphina spoke, her voice calm, smooth as light over glass, "I bring you the greetings of the Holy Empire and the divine peace of Solas, our eternal light."
The king, a seasoned man with sharp eyes dulled only slightly by age, gave a respectful nod. The queen smiled, but it was thin, controlled.
"Alvareth is honored by your grace, Saintess Seraphina," the king said. "Your arrival has brought our people great joy—and," his gaze flicked subtly to the boy at her side, "great curiosity."
She smiled, unbothered, and stepped past the thrones toward Prince Caius.
The boy prince stood still, his golden hair neatly brushed, posture perfect. But his eyes, bright and intelligent, held something cautious and a deep curiosity.
Seraphina bent slightly — just enough to meet him eye to eye — and gently took his small hand in hers. Her other hand raised to cradle his cheek, soft and reverent, like a mother blessing her child.
"Don't be afraid, little one," she whispered, her voice as warm as sunlight through stained glass. "Your future is brighter than the stars above. Believe in our God, and He shall guide your path. The world already sees your light—may you never lose it."
At that moment, a radiant glow bloomed on her left hand: the Enigma.
A divine mark, shaped like a sunburst with a core of light blue flame, shone through her glove. It pulsed once — and then, as her hand touched Caius' heart, the magic shimmered across the room.
It was a blessing.
One that only a true Saintess could bestow.
A gift of protection, strength, and divine favor.
Gasps rang out from the nobles. The head priest from Alvareth's temple stepped forward and immediately knelt, murmuring prayers of thanks.
The saintess raised her voice, her words clear and resonant. "There is no doubt — he is the one spoken of in the prophecy. Rejoice, kingdom of Alvareth, for a true sun has blessed your land once again."
With those words, she confirmed before all that Caius was indeed the next saint. Once again? Yes — for another saint had once risen from their kingdom in ages past. Yet he had been neither noble nor royal, but a mere commoner, and thus the court had never fully claimed him as their own. This time, however, there was no denying it. Caius, born of royal blood and now affirmed by the saintess herself, was undeniably the chosen one of prophecy.
And yet… while all eyes focused on the saint and the prince…
Some couldn't help but glance at the quiet child standing to her right.
So similar.
Too similar.
"Who is he?" a noblewoman whispered behind her fan.
"Surely her brother?" another one rebuked the idea saying. "What?! A bastard of House Althas? Are you out of your mind? Do you want the Duke to wage a war on your household?"
"He's too young to be her son… but the resemblance…"
"Could he be…?"
Rumors stirred like embers.
But Seraphina said nothing more. With the grace of moonlight and the dignity of heaven itself, she stepped back, guiding Auren beside her once more. His small hand slipped quietly back into hers.
The royal family gave their thanks. The nobles resumed the music.
But nothing in the room felt the same.
Two children of the same age stood before the court — alike in presence, yet different in origin. Though the saintess had already declared the Crown Prince to be the chosen one, doubt lingered in the hearts of many. Whispers spread like wildfire: what if the boy at her side was not some nameless foundling, but the saintess's own flesh and blood? If so, could he not also be destined for sainthood?
Such thoughts were dangerous, yet not without precedent. For though rare, history spoke of eras in which two saints were born beneath the same heavens. At first, such an occurrence was hailed as a blessing — a sign of divine favor. But time had taught the world another truth: where two saints arose, calamity followed. What should have been light gave birth instead to shadows, and kingdoms crumbled beneath the weight of that doubled fate.
Thus, as the nobles looked upon the prince and the nameless boy, awe and unease warred within their hearts. For one saint could raise a nation to glory — but two could just as easily bring about its ruin.