Yesterday, Leo had died. Again.And this time, it was while she was asleep.It was something that simply... kept happening. Always.She tried to stop the blade from slicing through her throat, tearing the flesh, choking back the scream, while the mercenary kept his vacant stare on her. Above her, the night sky remained indifferent to her pain. Around her, the miserable village, gripped by hunger and fear, was falling apart in fire and blood. Families torn apart, houses consumed by flames.She begged not to die, until the very last second.Now, on that cold morning, the memory burned as vividly as the strange sensation on her neck, which she rubbed instinctively, as if she could still feel the spear lodged there.Explaining this strangeness would only add one more label to herself: cursed, now insane.And 'dying so many times,' sooner or later, became something banal... as it does with the weak.It almost sounds like an exaggerated way to put it; however, there was no reason to care about it anymore.What good is it to think about prophecies? If all this was meant to happen, why not die with glory? Or at least try?Exactly. That's the right way to think. And today is July 12th, Monday, and this time, I will not die.
That was what she repeated to herself. A mantra disguised as a wish to calm her anxieties before the Graduation Ceremony.While waiting for her name to be called, she clenched her fists, suffocating the anxiety eating her from within.Because everything was going according to plan.Nothing could go wrong.A plan that would become concrete in a few moments.Again she looked at her palm, this time covered by a thick black hunting glove, turning it over and over, closing into a tight fist.Nothing yet.She clenched her jaw.Still full of the uncertainties that had been eating her since the Awakening.She just needed to wait.Maybe becoming a Herald was a way to say she could be more than a curse, that she could survive anything and be the strongest.The very thought managed to calm her a bit and bring a caricature of the young woman with her nose held high in pure pride.Yes, all this bad luck would go away once she became a Herald.
— Armando Simone, candidate 340, offer your blade and swear your Creed. — announced the new Monteiro Announcer, cloaked in a heavy navy blue mantle and a mask of Yophielle's Runes that completely covered his face.Despite the ceremony, Leonia knew the selfish bastard under that mantle like no one else.The Announcers, devotees of the lesser goddess — daughter of Charia — were guardians of the rituals in Monteiro lands. They lived among monasteries and churches, immersed in books, prayers, and vows of silence.And after Silas Samarone took that position, his name began to be forgotten among them, just as his face should not be revealed.
She still despised him. The repulsion was almost a hobby.
Swearing loyalty to Yophielle didn't make him better. It didn't erase what he had done.He would regret every damn misfortune he caused her.No, better yet, all of them.Ignoring the young woman's repulsion and returning to the context of events…Simone, clad in simple silver apprentice armor, walked his full height toward the stone stage-like structure with five steps on its side.He seemed a bit nervous as he climbed the stairs; she wasn't sure if it was anxiety or fear, which would be normal — after all, before him were the most important representatives of the Monteiro Order, both leaders of the Heralds and Knights, the Announcers, and no less important and glorious, Archduke Carmelius Monteiro.The Graduation Ceremony, known as the Ascension, was the final step to becoming a member of the Order of Monteiro Knights, better known as the Heralds.
Unlike other known orders in Camalia — land of the Audreans — the knights and Heralds were not the emperor's pets — Velgath Oberon — the Heralds owed loyalty only to Archduke Monteiro and his lineage, such as Princess Skylartte.See, becoming a Paladin or knight of other houses or even the royal family might seem difficult; first comes the entrance exam, then about three years training until your first campaign — ready or not — and you take a post, end of story. But, believe me, that's nothing compared to what all these survivors went through to be here.In Montreal, the knights' trials are hard but not impossible. The problem is when your ambition grows and you want to become a Silver Herald.Even if you apply to be a Herald, to prove your skill, courage, and daring, candidates undergo years of training. Some start at 16, others at 20, and very few under 10 years old.During this process, you can very well die trying to get in, during training, and still fail to reach your desired goal.It's surviving the unthinkable.Just as she had done all her life with her curse.
Leo lifted her eyes toward the stage. Simone knelt, bowing before the representatives, removed the sword from his waist, and handed it to the Announcer.Beside him rested the Fire Taming: a circular vessel, based on a twisted trunk held by living branches. In the center, a bluish flame burned inside a white oak structure.The flame seemed… pretentious. As if judging the candidates before consuming them.The Announcer raised the blade offered by Simone, his old sword, recited prayers to the war goddess Yophielle, called for strength from the guardian Ignis, and returned it to the candidate. Without hesitation, Simone made a cut on his forearm and plunged it entirely into the blue flame.That's right, by his own free will, that candidate cut his arm and plunged it into the fire along with his old sword, which melted amid the flames.Pain was expected. Screams. The smell of burnt flesh. But it wasn't exactly like that.The Fire Taming was a living relic, offered by Ignis — the guardian creature of Montreal lands — not a fake mystical object used to satisfy novices' egos and the sadistic desires of the old.According to veterans' accounts, the relic marked the 'Final Agreement' — if that is your greatest wish — a soul contract binding your soul and loyalty to Archduke Monteiro.However, if your vows are not sincere, the candidate will burn entirely until turning to dust.If your heart changes and betrayal marks you, your body will collapse.Which, in two centuries so far, had never happened.— I, Armando Simone, now Silver Herald before my peers, under the gaze of Yophielle and the blessing of Ignis, swear my life and honor to defend the Monteiro Archduchy and its children until my last breath. If my words are corrupted and my heart lost, may my name be forgotten and my soul destroyed.
Standing over the kneeling youth, Alphonse Melione, current leader of the Silver Heralds, stood before him, fastening a royal blue cape on his armor with Montreal's silver insignia: a creature resembling a white wolf with four black eyes, a pair of huge eagle wings spread open, its head turned left, and its enormous blade-tipped tail curling around its head like a circular shield, with three sharp blades pointing toward it.Below, in Caruylian — the ancient language of Camalia — read:"By Montreal. By blood. By glory."According to history, Ignis was the guardian creature of these lands who, in its vulnerable state, was saved by Devian Monteiro, who was given her home as a sanctuary to protect not only her but all those in need.Then he was given a silver mask, also known as Silenzia, featuring monstrous traits with sharp teeth details, horns, and even bright paint on the eyes. They began to be worn as an attempt to confuse and provoke the Zalmas with their own kind, as their vision was quite poor.While some bring ruin to Eldria, amid the burning glory, the Heralds bring salvation and the end, able to be as cold and cruel as any creature in this world.
Silas closed the scroll with the first 25 candidates and opened another with the last 20 names, among them… hers.Her Ascension. Her destiny.And this time, she would not merely submit to the call.She would prove. Prove to everyone, once and for all, that they were wrong.Being a Silver Herald was the pinnacle of pride for a Montreal citizen.It was not a title inherited nor requested — it was something wrested from the world, with effort, blood, and will.
She took a deep breath, her gaze fixed ahead, filling the silence within herself.—I think this time they'll serve Potrik meat… with red wine and that sauce — whispered Tamaya at her side, her voice dry, as if trying to break the weight of the moment, but only making it denser.Her eyes were still swollen from crying.Both knew: the night had been too long, and the day… was the day everything would change.— As soon as this ends, I'm getting a slice of that chocolate and strawberry cake in the kitchen. We'll celebrate by breaking the first rule as Heralds — she added, gently pushing Leo's forearm, her gaze still fixed ahead, not daring to waver.
Leo closed her eyes, shaking her head, stifling the half-smile that almost escaped.Talking here was a stupid risk, but they were hiding in the third row.Leo squinted, trying to pretend she wasn't part of the conversation or else it would be on both of them — too risky to act that way. Instead of saying anything, she slid her left hand from her back and held her friend's, not intertwining fingers as a way to comfort her, as if to say:"It's okay, when all this falls, we'll eat all the meat and drink all the wine until we pass out."Tamaya squeezed back, with the same contained strength.And fell silent.Leo answered with a discreet smile and refocused.
Rugh was already crossing to the other side of the formation, the Herald's cloak and mask gleaming like a living symbol of what everyone there wanted — or feared. Unlike the others, he offered his auradora, a longsword that shimmered in bright crystal-like tones.The next candidate was Tamaya, who offered her pair of common daggers. Seeing her friend try to smile amid so much unhappiness from the previous day, Leo vowed to herself she would take her to some Montreal bakery to eat whatever she wanted.
With her arm emerging unscathed from the Fire Taming, Leo looked again at Alphonse Melione — the current leader of the Silver Heralds. The Archduke Monteiro's skin was two shades darker than hers, his shaved head covered by a white hood, blades attached to his garments. His mouth was covered by a metal mask shaped like the teeth of a hungry wolf.Seeing him before her increased her anxiety; he was one of her greatest inspirations. A boy who arrived in the archduchy at 12 and assumed such a post at 16, and now, almost 35, no one had been good enough to challenge him.
However, that would soon change.
As the new Herald left, it was her turn. She was one of the last to be called. This year there were a total of 82 candidates, 25 died, 37 survived, but her candidate number remained, even if she hadn't survived. A way to honor those who got close to their goal.In Leo's formation, candidates 391, 392, and 393 were the only ones not called, having perished during training.No one survives on willpower alone.Living and dying were intertwined words here — and the least one could do was balance between them… and survive them.Maybe it wasn't their time, but it was their choice.That's why passing the Ascension and being alive for graduation was a feat worthy of pride.Among all the stories crossing here, the most unlikely to be present… was Leo's.— Leonia Bellius, candidate 399.The firm voice brought her back. When announced, Leo straightened her posture and raised her head proudly, arms positioned behind her and the sternest expression she could manage — despite the excitement boiling inside.This was the moment she had been waiting for 14 years — just like her companions Rugh, Tamaya, and Armando Simone, who had already received their new ranks as Silver Heralds.If cosmic phenomena really determined fate, then surely, that chapter of her story was written as the most...— Failed.