Just outside of Duwan dozens of tents had been pitched beside several wagons of supplies. I hadn’t known what to expect from a battalion of knights, but what I saw surpassed even my wildest imagination. There wasn’t just a few dozen warriors, but hundreds.

  Azmoria carried me inte orent and id me down in a cot covered in plush bs. I tried to protest. I didn’t want to get blood and grime all over someone’s bedding but Azmoria tio ignore me. I could only hope that I’d soo a knight who actually spoke sign nguage otherwise I’d never be able to express my will.

  “Five me, Midy. I’m going to o cut away your clothes. I promise to repce them as soon as we’re done.” Drawing a knife Azmoria began to carefully cut away the bloody fabric exposing my damaged skin.

  Despite the arrow still stig out of me, and the severe wound caused by Azmoria’s sword, I felt little pain. If anything, all I felt was a bit of disfort, akin to what I’d felt after falling onto my shoulder from a ledge. Did demons naturally have a higher tolerance for pain? Was I even a demoe believing the knights might have beehralled by me, they certainly didn’t act acc to any desires I had. Plus, while my wound had clotted quickly, it hadn’t vanished.

  Acc to the stories I’d been told, a single demon was akin to a natural disaster. They endured wounds that would kill most other creatures. They could use powerful magic without ichor, and they were driven mad with an urge to kill. Other than my ging hair color and rapidly-clotting wounds, I didn’t share any of the other traits. I didn’t want to kill anyone. I didn’t feel like I could cast magic either. Even if I knew how, the surge of strength I’d felt after ing ichor was nearly all gone.

  As I mentally debated over whether I’d truly demonized or not, a young woman wearing a blue robe appeared. With a salute to Azmoria she approached my bedside.

  “Hello, Midy. I am Bir, a healer with the sixth battalion. Might I know your name?”

  ?ne.?

  Bir’s eyes widened a bit. “Did she suffer an injury to her throat as well?” Bir asked turning to Azmoria.

  “Only to her shoulder as best I tell. Why?”

  “Captain, has she spoken at all since you found her?”

  “No, why?”

  “She respoo me in sign just now.”

  Azmoria raised her brows and looked at me. “Her Ladyship has been speaking to us this eime?!”

  “Five us, Lady ne,” Bir crouched down beside me, iing my wounds. “Other than the wounds you’ve endured on your shoulder and arm, did you get hurt anywhere else?”

  ?No. I drank ichor without casting a spell. Am I going to bee a demon??

  “I don’t believe it is possible for the saint to bee a demon. Just looking at your wounds, your body must have an innate ability to burn ichor for self-healing,” Bir responded. “Captain, if you don’t mind, could I have you remove the arrow in Lady ne’s arm as I cast my spell? If we time it right it’ll greatly reduy possible suffering.”

  “Of course.” Azmoria stepped forward and carefully grasped the arrow stig out of my shoulder. Once she was in pce, Bir pulled a vial of bck liquid out of her robe. Removing a cork from the top she swallowed the fluid within. As soon as it was gone, she reached for my shoulder.

  With a single pull of the arrow’s shaft, Azmoria tore it from my shoulder. The dull ache that’d I’d been feeling roared into a wildfire of agony. As tears streaked from my eyes, Bir pced her bed hand over my shoulder, juring a gentle green light. In a single breath’s time all the pain I felt faded.

  “Is there a scar?” Azmoria asked, l herself to i my shoulder.

  “I don’t believe so,” Bir smiled. “You got her here quickly enough, Captain.”

  Nobody had ever used healing magie before. Lydia certainly didn’t know any, aher Elise or I could use any magic at all. I’d heard of its miraculous power before, but not of its limitations. From the way Bir and Azmoria spoke, its ability to heal wounds pletely diminished quickly over time. I wao ask questions, but, a deep ing fatigue washed over me.

  It took everything I had to keep my eyes open. My arms felt heavy. Laying my head ba the soft beddih me I let my eyelids falls. Bir and Azmoria were still taking, but I was too tired to listen. I could only hope they wouldn’t be angry that I fell asleep while they were speaking.

  A loud thud apanied an unfortable tremor of my bed. Opening my eyes I realized I was no longer ient. Instead I was inside a carriage. Someone had moved me in my sleep. They’d even ged my clothes, dressing me in a soft yellow and grey gown.

  “Good m, Lady ne,” Azmreeted me as I sat up. She was sitting across from me in the carriage. Beside her sat Bir.

  ?Good m.?

  “She returned yreeting, Captain.” Bir o Azmoria while smiling me. “I hope you slept well, Lady ne. Since Captain Azmoria doesn’t know sign nguage I’ve been asked to remain at your side to transte for you. Is that alright?”

  ?Yes. Thank you.?

  “If you don’t mind, Lady ne,” Azmoria began. “I’d like to ask a few questions about you.”

  I nodded. I had many questions I wao ask too. The most pressing was what exactly a saint was. Givehing that’d happened before, I was too preoccupied to ask. Now that I was feelier, I couldn’t help but be curious as to why the humans had turned docile after seeing my hand. What exactly did me being the saint even mean?

  “First off, how old are you, Lady ne?”

  ?I’m sixteen.?

  “Sixteen?” Azmoria seemed taken aback by my age. “You’re quite small for a sixteen year old. Especially one who’s a wolfkin.”

  Looking down at my hands I wondered how to reply to Azmoria’s ents. It was true. I’d grown a bit after Elise took me in, but after turning thirteen my body seemed to stop growing. Elise had guessed that years of starvation stunted my growth. Together we tried a variety of foods said to promote good health and growth in children, but nothing worked. I was destio remain short.

  “I believe your petite appearance will make you quite popur with the people, Lady ne.” Bir noted, likely trying to diffuse the awkwardhat’d falleween us. “And you’re sixteen! Ohe public learns of your existence I’m sure you’ll receive offers of marriage from all over.”

  My heart froze. Reag up I squeezed my hand into a fist over my heart, g the fabriy gown i. Taking slow breaths I fought off the cascade of sorrow threatening to drown me. If having a partner was a requirement for the saint, I wanted no part in it.

  ?I refuse.?

  “Refuse? What?”

  ?I will not marry anyone.?

  Once Bir reyed what I said to Azmoria, the redheaded knight ughed. “Marriage is not something anyone has the authority to for the saint!”

  “I haven’t paid as much attention to the scripture as Captain Azmoria,” Bir added. “But, if it helps you uand the position you're in, Lady ne, I believe you have authority nearly equal to the king. It's been several hundred years sihe st saint though, things might've ged."

  The shock of what Bir said overloaded my brain. My jaw scked as I struggled to process what’d just been said. I was an unwanted child and a thief, and suddenly I held the same power as the human king. Looking down at the palm of my hand I ied the lotus-shaped birthmark that’d been with me since birth. The elders of my tribe said it was an unlucky mark, yet, to the humans it was a mark of great signifibsp;

  Closing my eyes I wondered what Elise would’ve made of all this. Would she have insisted that I go along with the knights and bee the saint? Or, would she have tried to protect me from them. Maybe she would’ve whisked me away in the dead of night to prevent me from being used by the king and the churbsp;

  ?What exactly is a saint??

  “I’ll expin,” Azmoria said, straightening her posture. “The saint is humanity’s greatest hero. Our first saint, Saint Rochelle, lived about two-thousand years ago. She slew the archdemda at the cost of her life, and saved not just humanity, but the whole world. That alone would’ve been enough for her to be veed, but sihen she has been reborn time and time again.

  “You are the eighth reination of Saint Rochelle, her vessel. Thanks to the st vessel, we know a great deal about how the vessels obtain Rochelle's power. You have ied her potential, and will one day be able to hone yourself into a hero capable of wielding the same power Rochelle once used to sy the archdemon."

  ?But, what does it mean for me to be a saint??

  "What do you mean?"

  ?If there is no archdemon, what will I have to do??

  "The saint's power is more than just skill at arms. There is nothing the saint is not capable of. I'm sure that even if there is no need for you to fight, the church will find ways to make use of your abilities. With your sent of course."

  The weight of being the saint wore at my nerves. I thought learning more about the saint would make it easier for me to accept it. I was wrong. To have been forced into a lineage of heroes who’d existed for two-thousand years made me anxious. I wasn’t very good with a bde. I didn't know anything about magic. I was destio bee a terrible saint.

  We rode in silence for a bit before Azmoria spoke again. “Are you worried for your friend?”

  Lydia’s face appeared in my thoughts. She was talented, intelligent, and resourceful. She was better off without me. Still, I did worry for her. There were things even Lydia couldn’t win against. But what could I do about it? She wouldn’t trust the knights. Even if they went after her on my behalf, she wouldn’t follow them just because they told her they were w for me.

  Without asking, I already k would be impossible for me to request that I be allowed to go after her. Even if I had a king’s authority, I doubted they’d let a weak saint like myself wander off in search of a sikin. I could only hope she’d find her way bae someday.

  ?I am. But please leave her be.?

  The journey from Duwan to the kingdom’s capital took the knights six days. I’d been unscious for the first two. Once our caravan passed into the city, Azmoria ordered that our carriage break away and head for the Grand Cathedral. The Sword of Saint Rochelle was kept there, she told me. It and the process of ization were one and the same. Only Rochelle's vessels could draw the sword from its scabbard. Doing so would prove I was truly her eighth vessel, and officially ize me as the saint.

  Once we came to a stop before the grand cathedral, Azmoria stepped out of the carriage and held a hand out for me. I let her guide me down, and looked up at the gigantic building in front of me. It was more massive than anything else I’d ever seen. From my perspective it was as if the grand cathedral was holding up the sky itself.

  “Impressive isn't it?” Bir said, stepping out of the carriage beside me.

  ?It’s amazing.?

  My tribe didn’t build such grand structures for the gods. We worshiped through our as. Tilling the fields rayer to the god of harvests. Each successful hunt was dedicated to the goddess of the forest. After spending years in Duwan I was familiar with how humans treated religion, but, I would’ve never guessed they’d struething so massive just to worship the divine.

  Azmoria motioned for Bir ao follow her as she stepped ihe cathedral. “Excuse me,” Azmoria called out to the first priestess she saw. “I am Captain of the 6th Knight Battalion, Azmoria. I have located a vessel of the saint.”

  “A vessel of the saint?” The Priestess looked from Azmoria to Bir. “Midy, might I ask that you show me your lotus mark?”

  “I’m not the saint’s vessel,” Bir noted before motioning to me. “She is.”

  “I don’t mean to disbelieve your cim, but the saint's vessels are human.”

  “ne,” Azmoria’s eyes narrowed, her voice taking on a hint of irritation. “Show her your palm.”

  Hesitantly, I did as Azmoria asked and raised my hand for the Priestess to see.

  “This ’t be.” The Priestess grabbed my hand and began to rub my palm vigorously. As if she could rub away my birthmark. “The saint… a wolfkin girl…”

  “Any further disresped I’ll inform the Exalted of your duct myself.” Azmoria threatehe Priestess who seemed to defte as she finally gave up on rubbing my hand.

  “My Lady Saint, and panions of Her Ladyship, please follow me. I will take you to meet the Exalted.”

  The priestess led us up a few flights of stairs before ing to a stop in front of a rge door adorned with gold decorations. Knog on the door she stepped bad lowered her head. After an unfortable stretch of silehe door opened.

  An elderly human man, dressed in a white and gold robe, stepped out of the doorway. “Ah, Rita. We have guests I see. Unfortunately I will not be able to perform blessings today. I ask that you find an elder priests to carry out rites in my steed.”

  “Your Holiness. This is Captain Azmoria of the Knighthood, and with her… Is the Saint’s vessel.”

  Before I had to be asked again, I went ahead and held up my hand to show off my birthmark.

  “The mark of the lotus,” The elderly man stepped forward. He ied my hand, though uhe priestess he stopped short of toug it. “Amazing. I did not believe the saint would reinate during my lifetime. How pleasant a surprise this is. I am Exalted Gregory, head of the church of Nakara. Please e inside, I will inform my guest of the situation.”

  My heart pounded as I was beed ihe Exalted’s office. The walls were lined with shelves full of aexts and ornate relics. To one side was a desk, covered in religious items. At the room’s ter air of couches. Sitting on one of them was a young man dressed in an immacute uniform. He must have been Azmoria’s superior. The moment she id eyes on him she dropped to her knee. Notig her Captain’s fealty, Bir quickly dropped as well.

  “I overheard what was said,” The young man smiled as he stood. “I must be truly lucky to have been here at su auspicious time. I am Edmond, third son of King Loren. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Saint.”

  Panic bubbled in my chest as I hastily signed a greeting. I didn't know what to expect from a human prince. Would he allow Bir to transte for me? Would he demand that I speak, even if someoold him doing so would cause me immense pain? Did I have the authority to refuse his requests, or was he above me?

  “Five me for speaking out of turn, Prince Edmond,” Bir said, still kneeling with her hand over her heart. “Lady ne ot speak. She uses sign nguage to unicate. I have been serving as her transtor.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Prince Edmond smiled broadly, exposing his teeth. If he were a wolfkin, showing his teeth to me would be a sign of disrespect. It was a belittliure. Elise had made a simir mistake o was because of her that I learned just how ignorant humans were of my tribes s. “Lady ne and I will have no trouble unig.”

  eri