A week or so later, Celeste was walking through the temple gardens when she stumbled upon a group of temple initiates tending the flower beds. The gentle blue irises and special teal lavender created a rich tapestry of colour, a mark to welcome in the spring. They would be harvested soon, prepared for the late spring Merenenyosa festival to celebrate the First Fruit and the dawn of all life.

Strolling through the gardens, a hive of attendants swarming behind her buzzing with questions and concerns, Celeste stopped suddenly.

“Arabella?” Celeste gasped, seeing the young Jöln woman tending the flowers in an initiate’s robe. The small woman looked back up at her with dirt-stained hands, then clasped them over her mouth and gasped.

“Your Radiance!” She nearly shrieked, pure joy painted across her face. Celeste didn’t care for her minders or for the dirt on her friend’s hands as she rushed over and held the woman tightly.

“It is so good to see you Arabella.” Celeste whispered into her small friend’s ear, leaning down to embrace her properly. Pulling back, Celeste looked down at Arabella’s gown. “I was not made aware you had started your initiation.” Celeste stated, beaming at the sight of a friendly face. Well, all the faces in the temple were friendly to her. But Arabella was different. She was someone who had been there beside her over the past several weeks living outside the temple. They had been through things together that Celeste had never imagined herself doing. “However did you afford the novice’s duties?” Celeste had been meaning to speak with her father on that topic, but as usual he had been busy. The very idea of people being turned away solely because they could not afford to serve the Mother almost made Celeste fill with rage. Well, as much rage as Celeste could ever have.

“Valleresa paid them. She has been asking about you, you know. Every day she does.” Arabella stated. “She lives not far from here, got herself a small home with Lord Vallerian’s coin she did. I’m sure I could bring her in sometime if you wanted to...”

“How dare you touch The Prophetess!” A stern Fershya woman with grey-streaked blonde hair marched over to them, grasping Arabella’s wrist tightly and pulling her away from Celeste sharply.

“Sister Therena I was just…” Arabella stammered out as Celeste just watched, shocked.

“No one touches Her Radiance! Least of all an ungrateful initiate such as yourself.” The priestess turned to Celeste, her words fading away as a bit of red spread across her face. On the woman’s pale complexion, the blush was like a rose blossom falling on a white marble bench. “Y… Your Radiance.” The priestess prostrated herself for Celeste, nearly touching her nose to the earth. “I apologize for my initiate’s impertinence; I assure you she will be punished.”

“Sister Therena, was it?” Celeste asked, and the woman nodded urgently. “I implore you, there is no need to punish…”

“Well haven’t you just done it now Initiate Arabella?” The woman snapped, cutting Celeste off. She seemed to swap emotions as quick as the spring weather. “Got the Prophetess herself making excuses for you. You’re lucky she’s as merciful as the Mother Herself you are. To think yourself worthy to even look upon Her Radiance, let alone touch her flesh.” The woman harumphed in disgust, then turned back to Celeste, shifting once more to bows and smiles. “Your Radiance I will be taking this one away immediately. Thank you for your kind mercy, you guide us always.”

And just like that, Celeste was alone again. Her dozens of minders arrayed around her, coddling her every need. They fretted about her as she walked along, as though even the True Father’s light against her skin was too much for her. It had taken days to even get them to let her walk around the complex instead of carrying her on a litter everywhere she went. Celeste rolled her eyes, said a prayer for Arabella, and returned to her duties.

It was four more days after seeing Arabella that Celeste found herself atop a pedestal once more in the central sanctuary of the temple, a crowd forming around her as she sat still. As a young girl, she had grown accustomed to this, the people bowing to her, praying to her, reaching out to her desperately. Some few even managed to just barely graze the edge of her hem. When they did so, Celeste would wish for just a moment that one might touch her, so that she might feel the warmth of another soul again. She wished she could feel Valleresa’s tug on her braids, Gardinal’s rough touch, even Lord Vallerian’s ruffling of her hair. She missed it all, and most of all she thought on that cherished moment of holding Kriss’s hand. But now? Now no one had so much as touched her since she had hugged Arabella. No, no one would touch her here. There were guards to ensure that never happened.

Adoration it was called, adoration of her. She hadn’t minded it too much as a youth. She saw it differently now though, saw a part of it that made her feel ill. Sitting beneath the pale branches of the Relic Tree, its faintly glowing teal leaves splayed out atop her with dozens of different fruits blossoming from its boughs, she studied the crowd.

In her immediate vicinity, she realized, were all noblemen and women. Lords and ladies come to pay homage to the Prophetess. In a ring around them, decorated in rich metals and fine cloth were wealthy citizens, likely come to see her for a bit of luck. When one or two would cut into the front they would ask her to bless them with Cent’s luck, as though she were some sort of conduit for all the Pantheon, not just the First Mother.

It was only after all of those people, the ones close enough for Celeste to make out the wrinkles of their faces and clothes, that she saw the ones that truly needed her. The mud covered faces of the poor and downtrodden, kept back by the presence of the Faith Militia and the wealthy. It pained her heart to see them so far away. Hadn’t she walked among them so recently? Helped them with their woes?

And in doing so she had caused such… destruction. The sight of a daemon filled her mind again, the dark corners of the chamber feeling like eyes that were burrowing into her. Celeste could still feel that dread, that deep pit in her stomach that had filled her when she descended into the sewers. That was more than a fortnight past now, but still her eyes darted around the large chamber franticly as if she was still in that sewer. The danger present in her mind she looked for something, anything to make her feel safe. Make her feel…

She saw him, and the panic left her heart as though they were words on a shore washed away by the tide. Standing across the huge room, leaning against a wall with eyes locked on her, Celeste saw Kriss. As their eyes met a slow, sad smile spread across his face. He had come, after everything that had happened, he had still come to see her. Faintly, she remembered a promise. I will always protect you, he had sworn. But who protects him? Where had he been all those years? He knew how to fight; she had noticed that. Was that what growing up on the streets had taught him?

Celeste looked down at her pedestal, looked around at the crowds around her, and bit her tongue. How useless she was up here. While people like Kriss were still out on the streets, were still struggling to survive, she just sat here and was worshipped as though she were on the Pantheon herself. That familiar urge began to well up in her, that need to go do something. The ever burning need to help others.

Celeste smothered it. That urge… that urge had only led her to danger and destruction, it had only gotten people hurt. That urge had led her to rush after Gardinal and Vallerian at the Mudport and had led to so much destruction. That urge had pushed them into the sewers where people had died. Would that little girl be dead right now if Celeste hadn’t insisted on going down that day? What about that man she had held, who had died in her arms?

Try as she had, Celeste had only caused more pain in her attempts to help these people. Perhaps it was best if she remained a statue, a tool guided by wiser men. Something guided by her father, instead of her own childish beliefs. Maybe that way nobody would get hurt. Maybe that way she would stop causing people pain.