The classroom hummed with quiet anticipation as Aria Thorne stepped forward. Molten light streamed through the windows, stretching long shadows across the stone floor and flickering over enchanted desks. Each desk bore sigils pulsing faintly, recording every movement, every word, every misstep.
At the front table, Aria's group waited: Selene adjusted the last curve of her stabilization rune, precise and disciplined. Riven leaned back slightly, smirking but tense beneath the surface, as if expecting the world to erupt at any moment. Their combined sigils glowed softly—a braid of offense, structure, and binding, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Maelira's eyes swept over the room, calm but precise.
"Next group," she said, voice low, deliberate. "Aria, Selene, Riven. Step forward."
Aria swallowed.
Selene nudged her gently.
"Just breathe," she whispered.
Riven muttered under his breath:
"Yeah… just don't explode."
Before they could move, the classroom doors swung open with a quiet, commanding force.
Three white-robed figures entered, moving with a grace that seemed unnatural. Their hoods shadowed their faces, but the golden embroidery of the Radiant Fold glimmered in the molten light. Every step whispered authority.
The students froze. Even Maelira paused, chalk suspended in the air.
The lead priest's voice cut the tension.
"We have come to observe the emergence of the Saint of the Last Breath."
Aria's breath hitched.
Selene glanced at her.
"Saint…? Wait, what?"
Riven's jaw tightened.
"Great. They've been talking about you."
Maelira stepped forward, gesturing for calm.
"You may observe quietly," she said, tone soft but firm. "This is a lesson, not a ceremony."
The priests did not kneel. Not yet. They moved deliberately through the room, their eyes scanning the desks, scanning the students… until they stopped at Aria's table.
The tallest priest bent slightly, inspecting the interwoven sigils. His hands hovered just above Aria's glyphs.
"You…," he whispered. "…are the one."
Before anyone could react, he sank to his knees.
Selene froze, hand half-raised. Riven took a cautious step back.
Aria's pulse raced. She had never been treated like this—not by anyone, not ever.
One by one, the other priests knelt as well, heads bowed, hands pressed to the stone floor. Their robes whispered over the stone, faint silver embroidery catching the light.
"Saint Aria Thorne," the lead priest said, voice reverent, almost shaking, "we greet you."
Aria felt the weight of the room shift. Students gawked, whispers rising in a low tide of shock, confusion, and awe.
Riven muttered, "…Well, that's new."
Selene's eyes were wide.
"They're… worshipping you."
Aria's voice trembled.
"I'm not a saint…"
The priest closest to her tilted his head, smiling softly.
"Saints do not always know themselves first."
Maelira's jaw tightened.
"Everyone, hold your positions," she said, tone firm, but her eyes betrayed worry. "This is still a class."
The priests remained kneeling, reverent, as if in the presence of something sacred. The tallest one extended a silver-threaded emblem toward Aria.
"To honor you," he said, "and to pledge ourselves to your guidance."
Riven's fist clenched at his side.
Selene whispered, "Just… don't let them distract you."
Aria's hand hovered over the emblem. She felt a soft, strange pulse from it, echoing faintly beneath her skin. It was familiar… powerful… alive.
Finally, she took a careful breath and touched it. The priests exhaled collectively, a sound of relief and devotion.
"Confirmed," the lead priest said softly. "She is the Saint we awaited."
The classroom was silent. Students watched, mouths open, hands frozen over chalk and runes. Riven muttered, "I… I didn't sign up for sainthood."
Selene leaned close to Aria.
"They mean you no harm. But…" Her voice dropped, uncertain. "…they're serious about this."
Maelira's gaze hardened.
"Get back to work. They will remain silent observers, but we do not let this interfere with learning."
Aria swallowed.
The Church had found her. And while they revered her, that didn't make this safe.
Not by a long shot.