“We must tell the people! The King and Queen! We must have a banquet tomorrow! The end of the war is in sight, and it is finally looking to be in our favor!” Martin said.

Fadrique took a step forward, holding out his hands. “I’d like to discuss this more. We must make for certain this boy isn’t lying.”

“What more do you need, Fadrique? He has proven himself in all four gifts!” Dalius said.

Fadrique ignored him, instead turning toward Indenuel. “If you could step outside for a moment, the High Elders need to discuss some things in private.”

Indenuel’s eyes narrowed before he took in the other High Elder’s expressions. Martin tried too hard to keep his face from being read. Navir gave Fadrique a curious look, and Dalius found the handles on Cristoval’s wheelchair way too fascinating.

“Of course.” Indenuel took a few small steps back. “I understand.”

He gave a hasty bow before he turned around and walked out of the meditation room with Tolomon. He closed the door, tempted to put an ear to it, though he doubted Tolomon would allow such things. He briefly tried his tree power, but Navir had it completely blocked, and a tree wouldn’t let him listen in anyway.

“Was that unusual?” Indenuel asked.

Tolomon gave a shrug. “Can’t say I’m familiar with High Elder Fadrique’s personality.”

“It feels like he already hates me,” Indenuel said.

Tolomon gave no answer, as it didn’t seem like he had one. Indenuel walked forward, taking this time to again marvel at the worship hall. He walked through the pews. The ones closer to the front of the chapel were luxurious with deep cushions and velvet coverings.

He closed his eyes as a particular bright beam of sunlight hit his face. He raised his hand to block the light before he noticed the stained-glass windows behind the Savior’s throne. He approached them, lowering his hand, to see the window better. He stared at the towering ten-foot-tall windows lining the back of the Cathedral. There were eight of them, and they were telling their own individual story. The people in them looked majestic, and the details were beautiful and delicate. Indenuel tried to guess what kind of religious stories they were, but he had little knowledge of religion to begin with. Many of the traveling ministers preached about the different ways God destroyed the wicked. At first it frightened Indenuel, but he and Matteo made a secret game out of it, betting on the severity of the wicked in that Sabbath’s sermon. It was a secret game because Lucia listened penitently to every sermon and took them to heart. If she knew they were making light of it, she’d give them a good whack on the back of the head for it.

The thing was, there was a ton of destruction to choose from. According to the ministers, God enjoyed destroying the wicked. Earthquakes, fires, floods, plagues, droughts. The sermons about the mercy of God were Indenuel’s favorites, because they were so rare. Listening to Martin give his sermons the past month made Indenuel wonder if there wasn’t two Gods. One merciful, another full of righteous indignation.

He doubted it was something like that. More what Martin suggested. Some miscommunications between the High Elders, Priests, Ministers, and Traveling Ministers. It was a lot of people to get their information from.

Indenuel wandered around the stain glassed windows and paused at the one on the farthest left. There was something about the story that felt familiar. It was a still of a man, his arms outstretched with four strange symbols above his head. His chest was bursting with light as he floated in the air. Below him was a tremendous army in a vast field. Indenuel stared at the person of light, then saw the man had green eyes. A Santollian, looking as though he was above a battlefield.

“Is this…” Indenuel took a step closer, frowning. Tolomon appeared next to him, looking at the stained-glass window. “Me?” It somehow felt wrong to say that. Obviously it wasn’t him, but… “Is this the Warrior?”

Tolomon peered closer, raising an eyebrow. “Why, I think it is.”

“Haven’t you seen these before?” Indenuel asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t study them too much.”

Indenuel looked at the army below, a mass of people. He started to feel nauseous. Despite the sword training, despite the awe most of the High Elders had at his raw power, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around actually fighting in a battle.

The door opened and he turned. The four High Elders walked out, Fadrique looking annoyed, though he tried to stifle it. That had to be a good sign. Cristoval was just inside the room, mumbling something incoherent.

“You may enter again,” Navir said.

Tolomon and Indenuel walked inside as Navir closed the door and beaming. “We have come to a decision. Unanimously.” Navir’s eyes flickered in Fadrique’s direction, who crossed his arms and wore a deep frown. “You are as the prophecy says. You are the Warrior.”

Indenuel nodded, not looking at anyone. Again, he had a month to come to terms with this, but it still felt strange. Stranger still after seeing the stained-glass window.

“You will present yourself to the King and Queen tomorrow!” Martin said. “There will be feasting and music and dancing! I simply cannot wait!”

“Yes, yes. First we must present him to the public. They have been waiting ever so patiently!” Navir said.

Dalius smiled, and Cristoval was completely oblivious to it all. It was only Fadrique that seemed unhappy at this news, even though he wore a smile that was convincing enough. It was so strange.

Navir motioned Indenuel out of the meditation room, and he followed, trying to look stately. He straightened his jacket as he followed beside Navir, the nerves returning. They walked through the worship hall before Navir threw open the door. Where the crowd seemed boisterous before, they calmed down as the High Elders appeared. Indenuel was having a hard time breathing. The peace, the quiet, the alone moments, they were about to be gone forever. In his mind he saw the stained-glass window, saw the powerful figure over the battlefield and felt nauseous all over again. He looked out into the crowd, saw them staring between him and the High Elders, anxious and hopeful.

Navir took Indenuel’s wrist and raised it into the air. “A portion of the prophecy has been fulfilled! The Warrior has been found!”

If he hadn’t grabbed Indenuel’s wrist, then he would have covered his ears at the noise the crowd made. He couldn’t differentiate between any of it. It was all a wave of sound he tried to smile at. They were happy, joyous, excited, because now the end of the war was within reach. With the wall of noise, Indenuel felt the burden weigh down on his shoulders. They had proclaimed him the Warrior, and now he needed to stop the war. Somehow.

Fadrique was the first of the High Elders to turn around and enter the Cathedral again. He did it with little ceremony. Navir, Martin, and Dalius all smiled and cheered with the crowd, but for whatever reason, Fadrique made up his mind to dislike Indenuel.

***

Martin stepped off his carriage and smiled widely at his home. The sun had long since set, and he could see the flickering of lanterns and candles in the window. Derio opened the door for him and gave him a bow. “Welcome home, sir.”

He walked in as Sara rushed into his embrace. He hugged her, holding her close, reorienting himself back to his home through her. He tried not to hug her while in his High Elder robes, but he would make an exception tonight. It had been a long year, and he needed this.

“Is it true?” Sara asked without breaking away. “He has been proclaimed the Warrior?”

“Yes,” Martin said, smiling. “He will be presented to the King and Queen tomorrow night, then he starts his training after the Sabbath.”

“Adosina has not stopped talking about him since she returned. He seems like such a nice boy. Pity he has so recently lost his mother.” Sara finally broke away and held his hands in hers. She gave a smile, bright and cheerful, her eyes sparkling with joy. “You are home. Finally, finally home. I waited dinner for you so we could all eat together again.”

Martin’s face dropped. “Oh, did you? The children, certainly-”

“Yes, yes. Ana and Rosa’s children have already eaten. I shall make the final preparations now. Go on in the dining hall. Ana, Rosa, and Adosina are already there. Of course, Maria and Rita will bring their husbands to the banquet tomorrow. But they would like to visit you tomorrow, as they missed you so.”

Martin smiled. “I shall never deny an opportunity to visit with my daughters.” Maria and Rita were both busy in their marital lives, but with them also living in the city, he was able to see them often enough. And spoil his grandchildren.

“Grandapi!”

Martin smiled as he hugged his oldest grandson, Nicolas. “You are a father now! This is glorious news!”

“I am! Daniela is with Little Carlos now, helping him go to bed, but tomorrow morning you must see him! He is so fat!”

“Could you expect anything less with Grandami under the same roof,” Martin said, taking a hold of Sara’s hand to keep her close.

Nicolas laughed. “Grandami will not rest until Daniela remains the same weight she was when she was nine months along with Little Carlos.”

“Daniela is far too skinny. If she refuses a wet nurse, she must have the weight needed for good milk production,” Sara returned.

Nicolas laughed again. “Well, I better go help. I just wanted to welcome you home.”

“Thank you, Nicolas. Make sure your wife and son are happy,” Martin said.

Nicolas didn’t answer as he turned and ran up the stairs again. Sara smiled, squeezing his hand before heading toward the kitchens. Martin almost followed, wanting to spend every moment with her again now that he had returned. He froze when he heard the quiet taps of shoes on the ground approach him. He turned to see Inessa, who was already giving a low curtsey. How long had she been there?

“Welcome home, sir,” Inessa said quietly, her voice full of youth.

“Yes. Thank you.” Martin gave her a hasty bow.

“Would you prefer I ate dinner in my room?” she asked, her deep green eyes never leaving the floor.

Martin hated that he was tempted by the idea. Hated how much he wanted to say yes, to have her leave for just one dinner with the family, but he could not, in his gentleman nature, bring himself to do it. “Absolutely not. You are part of this family too.”

She gave another curtsey in response before she got up and headed toward the dining hall. Martin turned around and headed for the kitchens, already trying to forget Inessa all over again.