The clamor that followed Celeste's appearance rang through the air for a long minute before it slowly began to die down. Yet even after the voices softened, the effect of her presence remained. By appearing there before them, Celeste had already lifted the spirit of the people.
They had lost too much.
And after the Utopian War, things had only grown darker, worse still after the incident in the Fangorian Capital. Fear, grief, and exhaustion had loomed too strongly over Sancta Vedelia. But now, standing before them in white, Celeste seemed to offer something they had been desperate to cling to.
Hope.
The new Prophetess.
Claudia had held that position for so long that most of the living had never witnessed the rise of a new Prophetess with their own eyes. For many in that crowd, this was the first time they had ever seen such a figure not as a distant title, not as a story, but in living flesh before them.
"Prophetess."
