Secret Side of a Saint

The magic test ended with far more spectacle and drama than expected. All parties present accepted Sophia as the Saint. Though none of them had seen a Saint before. They only had stories to build a portrait with. And Sophia didn’t create a confident presentation of a Saint. Yet she was quickly changing that idea.

It took a minute for the cloud of dirt she kicked up to settle back to a normal state. The wall around the castle could clearly be seen again. The storm passed and at the center the realization dawned on all present. Prince Henri spoke it into life, but the weight of his words didn’t hit immediately. They were witnessing not just a special event with the coming of a new Saint, but one that could change the kingdom. Be the true will of the Goddess upon the earth.

Sophia caught the stunned wonder from their eyes. Only Prince Henri was able to maintain his composure. Completely forgetting themselves, the knights Tolen and Noan hurried over to her side, now recovered. They almost looked like children seeing their favorite dessert, wide eyed and excited. “It’s really you, Miss Sophia! Saint Sophia!”

Almost immediately, she started to step back trying to lower the expectations and accomplishment. “I haven’t done anything, Mr. Tolen. I still have a long way to go.”

Prince Henri cleared his throat to redirect emotions. “You are correct. But an impressive demonstration, regardless. Don’t let it go to your head, but accept the achievement. You’ll want it.” His words ended heavier than she expected. The evenness disappeared just for the briefest of moments. She could almost feel an emotion from him again. It froze her down to her bones unlike his unusually cold demeanor.

Her moment didn’t last as Prince Henri stepped towards her. The test ended and her schedule was tightly booked from his previous implications. ‘This was just the start, right. What else do I have to do today? It can’t be anywhere as bad as magic.’

Her first lessons with surprise came from Miss Ophelia and Prince Henri taking a seat to only observe. Sophia nearly tripled over it, feeling her body moving unnaturally against each part. Her mind became focused more on her body as she thought about it. It was supposed to just be a simple walk, but she couldn’t even do that.

After an hour of making attempts, she tripped once more as exhaustion started to claim her composure. Sophia caught the edge of the couch with her hand. It wasn’t enough. She still fell, though not as spectacularly as it might have been. But it was still a failure.

“Try again, Miss Sophia.”

The polite and patient version of Miss Ophelia had departed the room. ‘It’s almost like I’m back in the Academy. The pressure to keep going. But it’s just a walk. How is it so hard? But it doesn’t feel right. Why is this even that important? I just heal people, right? Ust. Hui. It’s just walking. It’s simple!’

Fear for the rest of her lessons started to pile up on her. “Why can’t I do this?” She pulled herself back up to sit on the pillow. Much to the dismay of Miss Ophelia, there was no grace in it. But it was plenty comfortable. Sophia crossed her arms left in thought.

“Miss Sophia.” Once more the maid’s voice drilled through her thoughts. She jumped a little to alert. “This is new for you. Expecting to succeed perfectly immediately would be unreasonable to assume. As His Highness has explained. Perfection isn’t going to be expected of you. A degree of etiquette will be, but as the Saint you will not be expected to be the same as noble breeding. They spend years developing those skills. You have weeks.”

“I know, Miss Ophelia, but it should be something I can handle better.”

An hour more of practice continued with little in the way of results. Sophia didn’t stumble as much, but nothing about it was natural. She wasn’t used to holding herself in such a way and doing it as a habit would be far harder than she imagined. It was something that she had to fight to change.

But they moved to more practical lessons guided by the First Prince once more. It was a lesson on all of the notable figures within the kingdom. He promised to go into the wider realm’s leaders in time, but the kingdom had enough people that she needed to learn.

On the wall of a private office for Prince Henri, she sat while he went over each of the pictures that he had drawn for all of the necessary people. They were not meticulously detailed as a painting, but sketched enough that they could be recognized. “At the top of the Holy Radiant Church is the High Priest. Always seen at the Euthemia Festival and Founder’s Day. Gherald Vestner is a hard to miss man.”

‘Have I seen him before? I haven’t been to the Church since mom died. I barely even attend Founder's Day unless Cathie drags me out.’ The tone of his voice made it seem like it was assumed she knew them already around as a famous individual even to commoners. And for most that probably would be true. ‘Never imagined it’d be the Saint for why I have to go to the Church again.’

No one from the Church was a face that she knew. She had to give them extra care to remember. But he was feeding her a lot of information and it was difficult to keep it all straight in her head. Names and faces with responsibilities and positions.

He continued to reinforce for her that this was less being done for her to be able to talk to them and more as a defense. Everyone had self-interests and the Saint drew eyes from everyone. Not all acted with the best of intentions. They couldn’t always be with her and protect her, as much as they might try. If she could know who approached her she could have a defense against words that otherwise might seem innocent.

She never imagined that the Saint had to navigate such treacherous waters. These were the secret lives of the most important figures in history. The aspects never recorded in books. Parts that no one desired when they looked up to the people in the position. Children that dreamed of one day becoming them completely unaware of the hardships that they faced. It really made her doubt if she could handle this responsibility.

Choice was stolen from her. A faceless Goddess made that selection. Now she was forced to march a road of thorns grown capriciously by divinity. She could almost laugh at the expected irony. Just like how she expected Euthemia to work.

Cramming an hour of notes and faces sent Sophia back to her lecture classes. They were always a struggle for her. Remembering abstract ideas or facts that were verbally recounted. It just didn’t stick. Writing only became a stop gap for her. It was a miracle she passed exams that needed heavy cramming to just keep the important bits inside long enough before they flew away like flies.

It was still early in the day. She hadn’t really recalled when Miss Ophelia woke her. But it was barely midday after everything and the schedule wasn’t over. They had her day more packed than her time at the Academy. At least there she could take time to hide in the library and recharge. The call of books nearly made her delirious when her magic teacher appeared before her.

There was a little bounce and excitement that she was holding in wanting to see some magic book. Or something that could float through the air like stories of mages could do. Anything that fit the image of tales. But he came with neither a book or fancy spells to make things animate on their own.

No, as she had to remind herself repeatedly, Mage Jolsi was only mage in name. Due to living in the Goddess’ Eye, any magic he used to be able to do no longer worked. Only Saint could do such acts. Though if he left the Eye, she expected that he would be able to return to his former talents. Though having lived for decades in Eulire now, he might have lost that skill or needed to retrain it.

‘Why does he stay? I know the Prince said they pay him, but he could refuse and leave right? He’s a mage, able to cast all manner of fantastical spells to burn or levitate. And yet he remains here. Is it really that appealing? Does he hate magic now maybe?’ It seemed difficult to imagine hating magic given what she read it could do. Yet the old man sat in this dusty room awaiting a Saint. ‘Is it just to teach? Or is he also caught by the Saint? Is he like everyone else? The Saint is something from the Goddess, different from him. But it still is magic, right? Is it the research or limits that interested him? That seems more appealing.’

Many questions and she wouldn’t get any of those answers today. She accepted that she may never have them. They were strangers today and tomorrow could bring anything. She would love to be able to talk to him about what he saw beyond the farmlands and forests of the kingdom. He was the only foreigner that she had ever been able to meet.

Mage Jolsi was a darkly tanned man from the Kingdom of Ahirem located south of Eulire as a coastal nation. He appeared roughly similar in age to King Renald. Wrinkles wrapped around his eyes wearing him down. Long gray hair tied off into a ponytail over his shoulder presented something more relaxed than all of the other men Sophia had seen around the castle. A soft gaze in his eyes seemed to reflect that air about him, even if there was a stern tone in his voice.

The old mage brought her to his chambers within the castle. Another deeply buried location that was impossible to trace. But there were warm tapestries hanging from the walls along with a few wooden figures that she didn’t understand. They had more abstract designs to them, feeling more like artwork than something practical. It wasn’t what she imagined for a mage’s room. But lacking magic, it couldn’t have been as fantastical as she might have hoped.

His warm smile that he greeted her with fell away to a thin serious line. “Miss Sophia, Henri’s told me that he tested you and to remarkable results.” She caught some surprise from his light tone. Nodding to him, she didn’t have much to add that he didn’t already seem to know. “While the Saint might be divinely aspected in magic, the method for creating spells is no different than a standard mage. The strength is the only difference. That will be the important factor I’ll be helping you with.”

“Not casting spells?”

“No, I’ll be teaching that as well. Can’t very well create a barrier without knowing how to do it. But power is important, because even with good intentions in your goals, too much strength in your spells can produce the opposite effect you’re seeking. Try to mend a bone and apply too much magic and you will over stimulate growth in the body creating tumors that bloat and damage the body. And with someone with power such as yours it will be effortless for you to kill someone even trying to use a basic healing spell.”

Sophia let out a gasp holding up her hands over mouth. She thought back to the First Prince and the knights in the test. She only followed his instructions and knocked them back. That wasn’t even a spell, just channeling and projecting. A real spell would have been amplified far greater. The threat she posed was not like she imagined.

‘The Saint can kill, when trying to save someone? No book ever said that. Can I really do this?’