The trudge toward the centre of the Hall should've taken no longer than a few seconds. Yet time seemed to slow down, sounds blurring together into a single, suffocating hum as they lined up before the Arcon. Ester tried her best to steady her breathing. The attempt came out shallow and ragged.
This was the man who permitted her father's execution.
His saintly demeanour was like venom to her. She was sick of it. Sick of these hallowed people pretending to be something they weren't. They weren't holy. They weren't good. They were as human as anybody else. Selfish and vain. As human as it got.
And she was about to swear her loyalty to them.
The Arcon's gaze moved slowly, deliberately, analysing each face as if etching it into his memory. He paused at Arthur, offering a pat on his arm that lingered a second too long before his attention shifted to Lucius. Lucius just looked around the room, unbothered, as if the Arcon's regard was a mild inconvenience.
"The Arc's authority…" The Arcon said with a smile, studying him before glancing over. "And Se'raf of Seema-Kahn..."
Then he turned. Abruptly. Just as Ester was wondering how he knew Se'raf his eyes found her..
Ester's gaze dropped to the floor instantly, all the air leaving her body.
He cocked his head.
"What is your name, Starless?" His voice was soft. Almost gentle.
"...Ester."
Silence followed. She kept her eyes fixed on the polished stone floor, counting the seconds, waiting for him to move on. He didn't. She could feel it before she looked up, something was wrong.
When she finally raised her eyes, the smile was gone.
What had replaced it was a stare. Cold and absolute, like something had been decided behind it long before tonight. He knew who she was. And he looked at her the way people looked at things that shouldn't exist.
She took a step back without meaning to.
"Ester?"
Saphy and Kris had turned, watching her freeze in front of the Arcon.
She caught Ezekiel's puzzled look as his gaze moved between her and the Arcon, trying to read what he was missing. Arthur held a worried expression, his body slightly angled toward her, though he held himself back. It made no sense. He had only just met her.
"What's going on?"
Lucius's voice cut through the silence like a blade. Loud and exhausted, and completely indifferent to the weight of the room.
The Arcon glanced at him. Something moved behind his eyes, too quickly to name. Then he composed himself, smooth and practised before turning to the figure standing behind him.
"Oathkeeper."
The hooded acolyte stepped forward. The small white bird sat motionless in their palms as they began to speak,
"Your names?"
Silence. Nobody wanted to go first.
Then two voices spoke at exactly the same time.
"Lucius of Le-"
"Ezekiel Bar-"
They stopped and looked at each other. Lucius with the tilt of his head regarded Ezekiel with a sort of mild amusement. Ezekiel just tightened his jaw.
Ester didn't even need to look at Se'raf to know what they were thinking. Told you..
Ezekiel cleared his throat.
"Ezekiel Barak."
"...Lucius of Leria." He said with a smile.
"Karis."
"S-Sapphire!"
"Geire..."
"Arthur Ren."
Ester felt her throat closing. "Ester."
The acolyte's voice was low and unhurried.
"Do you swear by the Arc to serve the Church's will?"
A pause. They looked at each other.
"Yes."
"Do you swear to guard its secrets?"
The question like a sledge hammer to her heart. She was supposed to protect the same people who assaulted her, threw her into a dungeon and killed her father. She felt Saphy's hand find hers as her breathing quickened. Fingers lacing through fingers. Warmth.
She swallowed everything down like an ill-tasting poison, leaving only an awful aftertaste.
"Yes."
"Do you swear that you are no longer your own?"
She thought of Jacen's voice in the dungeon. The cold stone. The choice that wasn't really a choice. Either this or go back. Either this or something worse.
She had no choice.
"Yes."
The Flo beast let out a sharp cry. A searing pain erupted on her index finger, like boiling water on skin. Ester winced, clutching her hand. Then just as quickly as it had come, the pain subsided into a faint, pulsing warmth.
She inspected her finger. The mark was already fading but she could feel it. Like there were words she wouldn't be able to force out even if she tried.
She glanced at Saphy, who stood wide eyed, blinking hard against tears that refused to fall. Even though their marks were all fading, the same feeling remained. They were bound. To the Church and to each other.
She snuck a look at the Arcon.
He was watching her with a soft, almost amused expression, as though everything was going according to plan. Then his gaze shifted to Lucius, who was studying his own hand with detached curiosity. A small smile broke across Lucius's face.
For just a moment, something flickered across the Arcon's expression. Gone before it fully formed.
He couldn't read Lucius. And it frightened him.
"Thank you, Starless." He gestured toward their table, his voice strained. "Please sit."
They returned to their seats. Ezekiel dropped into his chair with a sigh loud enough to draw looks from the next table. The Arcon was already beckoning the last group forward.
"Well…" Ezekiel muttered, "There goes my plan of turning on the Church."
Arthur let out a short laugh before realising he was the only one. His smile faded.
"...Are you serious?" He furrowed his brow.
"If he was," Se'raf said flatly, arms folded as they watched him. "...I'm sure his heart would have stopped by now."
Ester gripped the fabric of her dress beneath the table.
Was that all it took to be considered a threat? A thought? She let Se'raf's words move through her slowly. Uneasily. Why didn't she feel any distress?
She thought of the dungeon. Of the man who used to make her laugh before vanishing. All because he was branded a heretic. If the rules were as Se'raf said, maybe she would've been better off staying there. Maybe even…
"Se'raf." Saphy's voice was quiet and clear.
"You haven't eaten…"
Ester turned. Saphy was watching Se'raf with a kind of careful attention she'd rarely see others possess. Let alone someone so young. Like a goddess of nurture. That was the only way Ester could think of it. She didn't know if such a thing existed. But if it did, it would look like Saphy.
Se'raf's plate sat untouched.
"I -" Se'raf started.
"Yeah, the mask's putting me off," Ezekiel said, waving a hand. "Why don't you just take it off?"
Se'raf's hand rose to the mask instinctively. Everyone had wondered it silently. Se'raf always seemed to have it on. Was it an aesthetic choice? A habit?
"Um..." Arthur's voice was gentle, cutting Ezekiel off before he could continue.
Se'raf cut Arthur off first.
"I won't take the mask off." Their voice was measured, but something underneath it wavered just slightly. "And I won't eat in front of any of you."
Ezekiel tilted his head. "...You're not hungry?"
Kris kicked him under the table. Hard.
Ezekiel opened his mouth. Closed it.
Kris leaned forward instead, his voice careful. "Why?"
The question was simple. One that didn't demand an answer so much as offer a space for one.
It was the first time Ester had seen Se'raf look anything close to flustered. Something moved behind their mismatched eyes.
"I…" They glanced at Lucius who just continued eating. "I…"
"Guys." Arthur raised a hand quietly. "If Se'raf doesn't want to say, I think we should leave at that."
Ezekiel muttered something in Geneevan, low and sharp, before slouching back in his chair. Kris shot him a look but he didn't meet it.
Arthur looked around the table. "I'm sure we have things we'd rather not talk about."
Ezekiel looked away. Kris stared at his plate. Saphy bowed her head, something unnameable moving across her face. It filled Ester with a sadness she didn't fully understand, a wanting to reach across and ask. But she didn't. At least not here. Saphy would just brush it off.
Applause filled the hall as the last table received their marks. Ester turned reluctantly to watch them, their proud and nervous faces arranged before the Arcon, who raised his hands to address the room. They all stood.
"Starless." His voice carried easily to every corner. "Tonight is a joyous night. You have all received proof of your vow to the Church."
He clasped his hands before him, a paternal smile arranged across his face.
"The next time we meet will be during the Chimera Cross Trials, where you will compete against one another and against Synchrites from other countries for a ranked position." He paused. "I pray you all do your best."
He lowered his head and the entire hall followed.
He spoke a prayer, but the words reached Ester warped and muffled, as though passing through water. Her mind was elsewhere. On the mark fading from her finger. On Lucius, who freed her for reasons she still didn't understand. On Se'raf and their untouched plate. On Lin Hua, still somewhere unconscious in a bed she shouldn't be in. On the hooded figures who sat behind the Arcon silent.
The prayer ended. The Arcon lifted his head.
His acolytes parted across the table, descending at each side of the steps, filing around the Arcon.
"The feast is not over." He bellowed. "Eat. Drink. Savour this night."
He nodded toward Markos and the third years, who bowed. Then with one final glance at Ester's table, long enough to be deliberate, he turned and walked toward the entrance.
The great doors closed behind him and the hall seemed to breathe.
Ester hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath until it left her all at once. The Starless all glanced at Markos, waiting for an instruction before he sighed and gestured. Go ahead.
Immediately, the banquet resumed, silverware against plates, quiet conversation, the cautious return of something almost like relief.
The only sound at their table for a long moment was Lucius eating.
"And I thought you ate a lot." Kris muttered at Ezekiel, nodding toward Lucius.
Lucius didn't look up. Just reached for more chicken.
"G...glutton."
Every head turned to Geire. He was staring at his own fingers, as if he hadn't meant to say it aloud, as if the word had simply escaped him. When he noticed the attention he shrank back into himself and said nothing more.
The table sat with that for a moment. They had all forgotten he was there, yet they appreciated the attempt. They just didn't know how to respond. Saphy broke into a snicker before immediately wiping it from her face.
"You haven't killed yourselves," Markos appeared at the edge of their table, a tired smile on his face. "I'm...glad."
"What's going to happen now?" Saphy asked quietly.
Markos considered the question. "That...depends on what you mean. Right now? We enjoy. After, we prepare." He placed a hand briefly on Ester's shoulder. It was an uncomfortable weight but she understood the intention behind it. "You all did well."
He withdrew his hand and turned as another Starless called for his attention. He moved away through the crowd.
Ester watched him go.
Then before she could stop herself, she heard her own voice.
"Instructor Markos."
He turned.
She almost lost her nerve. "...Is it possible for me to get some fresh air?"
He looked at her for a long moment. The girl who had lost her family and survived a dungeon and just made a pledge to protect the same structure that had destroyed her. He could see it in the set of her shoulders. The way she was holding herself together with both hands.
His eye softened.
"Yes..." He said. "Yes." He pointed to a staircase beyond the Arcon's empty table. "Through there."
She pushed back from the table. Immediately she felt Saphy's hand close around her arm.
"What's wrong?"
"I just need to clear my head."
"I can come with-" Saphy was already half standing.
Ester reached down and squeezed her hand. She held it for a second longer than she needed to. She didn't want Saphy to see her like this. "I'll be fine. I promise."
She let go and she made her way through the hall without looking back. Past the Arcon's empty chair. Past the eyes she could feel tracking her. Past Cosmo's worried face. She didn't want to make a scene, but she didn't care any more. She didn't look back.
The staircase was narrow stone, the walls close on either side. Her dress whispered against the steps as she climbed. At the top, a heavy wooden door waited. She pushed it open, feeling the cold catch her immediately. Then the view.
She gripped the balcony railing and the Holy Lands opened up below her, vast and dark and impossibly still. The height was staggering. From up here the noise of the Banquet was barely a murmur, like something happening in another life.
She took three slow breaths.
Then she began to hum. It was a melody her mother used to sing, when Ester was younger, when even things got to loud. A song passed down, she'd always said.
Ester didn't know why it came to her now.
She stared out at the dark spread of the Holy Lands and thought about her father. The way he'd held her when she cried and called her his greatest chapter. The way her mother had looked at her that morning, with guilt and something worse underneath it.
What would they want her to do now? What would they say if they could see her right now?
"I'm sorry." The words came out barely audible. She wasn't sure who she was saying them to.
She felt the tears before she realised, hot at the corners of her eyes. She pressed them away quickly with the back of her hand.
The cold air bit at her, but she didn't move. Maybe she deserved to freeze up here. She had sworn loyalty to people who had taken everything from her, and she had said yes. Three times. Like it didn't mean anything. The cold seemed to attack her more but she didn't try to fight it.
The door behind her quietly groaned open.
She straightened. Wiped her face and arranged herself into something similar to a composure.
She expected Saphy. Part of her was glad yet part of her wasn't ready.
"Ester?"
The voice wasn't Saphy's.
The door opened, and warm eyes found her in the dark.
"...Arthur?"