I Am The Game's Villain

The hour of mourning was drawing near, and from where the crowd had gathered before the Memorial, people could already see figures slowly stepping onto the raised platform above.

Great figures.

The Heads of the Great Houses had come. Princes and Princesses of those same Houses stood among them, and even the Guardian of the Tree himself was present. It was a catching sight, one few had expected to witness with their own eyes. So many of the most powerful and revered figures in Sancta Vedelia gathered in one place gave the ceremony an even greater sense of gravity, making this place of mourning feel all the more solemn and significant.

That, after all, had been the point.

It was exactly why every important noble of the Kingdoms and of Central Vedelia had been explicitly required to attend: to display unity before the people, to remind the common folk and the highborn alike that after the Blood Wedding, all of Sancta Vedelia had something, or someone to mourn.

On any other day, the sight of such figures gathered together would have stirred excitement, awe, perhaps even cheers from the crowd.

But not today.

Today, silence ruled.

Only quiet whispers passed through the gathered masses, hushed and restrained, as though even ordinary speech felt out of place before such grief. Some among the crowd did not even recognize every face before them. Most of those figures were known only through the great screens displayed across Sancta Vedelia, distant images seen from afar. Yet now they stood there in the flesh, real and towering in presence, directly before the people.

At the very front stood the most important of them all.

Before the lectern was Alector Raonpherys, the Holy Guardian of the Holy Tree of Eden, the man who would naturally preside over the ceremony. As the eldest among them, and as the chosen guardian of the very symbol at the heart of Sancta Vedelia, his place there was unquestionable.

Beside him stood Duncan Tepes, now the only Demigod in all Sancta Vedelia.

Near Duncan was another figure equally known to the people: Claudia Tepes, the previous Prophetess.

Then came Reiner Dolphis, Head of House Dolphis.

Namys Elaryon, Head of House Elaryon.

Beatrice Moonfang was there as well, the former Head of House Moonfang, though very few recognized her in her current state. More than one person in the crowd seemed puzzled instead, wondering why a girl who looked no older than twelve was standing so prominently near Reiner Dolphis who looked somewhat annoyed.

It looked like he had brought his illegitimate daughter.

Their children were present too.

The future leaders of Sancta Vedelia.

One by one, more figures approached from behind and joined those already assembled on the stage.

Among them came Tanya Teraquin, taking her place beside Namys.

"You took your time," Claudia said.

Tanya ignored her.

Namys, however, turned toward Tanya with quiet concern in her eyes.

"Are you all right, Tanya?" She asked.

She knew well enough what Tanya had lost. Whatever had happened during the Utopian War, whatever choices had been made, whatever bitterness remained, Kendel had still been her son. A loss like that could not simply be swallowed and hidden without pain.

Tanya only nodded.

"I do not see Alvara," Namys said after a moment, her gaze shifting as she noticed Allen pushing Bryelle’s wheelchair nearby but found no sign of the elder sister. "Is she all right?"

Even Sephira seemed there after all though she was standing retreated in the back with a lowered gaze.

"She is fine," Tanya replied shortly.

After Kendel’s death, Alvara had already looked shaken by the sight of her elder brother’s corpse. But when she learned soon after that Amael was dead as well, and that nothing of him remained, something in her seemed to break even further. Not long after, she had chosen to sail for Utopia. Tanya had not stopped her. She had only told her to be careful.

In truth, Tanya herself had no desire to be there either.

The Memorial, the crowd, the ceremony, the display of unity, she wanted none of it. But she was still one of the Great Heads of Sancta Vedelia, and after the role her House had played in the Utopian War, she could not afford to appear distant, complacent, or arrogant now.

Namys looked at Tanya’s face for a moment.

Her expression was stern, almost hard enough to seem untouched, but Namys knew better than to trust appearances so easily. Still, she said nothing further.

Behind Tanya, Bryelle was crying in silence, wiping at the tears that kept falling no matter how many times she brushed them away. Allen remained beside her, doing what little he could to comfort her, though there were some griefs too deep for comfort to reach.

James Raven and his family arrived a minute later.

James, who had now become the Head of the Raven House, stepped forward first.

Leora followed close behind, moving with quiet swiftness, while Alicia and Levina stayed near her. Levina clearly wanted nothing to do with this place, but she had still come. She did not want Alicia to be alone, and more than that, she could not bear the thought of being separated from her either. Somewhere deep inside, a childish fear still gripped her, that if she let Alicia out of her sight, she too might disappear.

The moment Alicia noticed Selene standing nearby, she moved toward her without hesitation.

Before Selene could even react, Alicia wrapped her arms around her.

Selene looked down at her for a moment in silence.

Since the death of her sister, it was obvious that something immense had been torn from her heart. The loss clung to her in a way that needed no words. And seeing Alicia, who had once been so close to them both, clearly stirred something in her. After only a second’s pause, Selene returned the embrace.

Alicia wanted to tell her.

She wanted to say that Elizabeth was alive.

But this was not the moment for it, especially not when she herself did not know where Elizabeth was now or what she intended to do. She still meant to search for her, not only because Amael had asked it of her, but because she too felt responsible in some way. Yet for now, just for this day, she needed to mourn properly.

She needed that much, at least.

Nothing more had to be said between her and Selene.

After a few quiet moments, Alicia finally pulled back and returned to Levina’s side.

Then, all at once, the murmuring of the crowd grew louder.

Not wildly so, but enough to shift the attention of everyone present.

One by one, heads turned toward the figures now moving to the very front of the platform.

Harvey Indi Zestella, now Head of House Zestella after the tragic death of Melfina Indi Zestella, stepped forward. Beside him was a young man with white hair, his son and heir, Evan Indi Zestella.

But the rising stir among the crowd was not truly for them.

Almost at once, the nobles and figures gathered upon the stage began to part, making way. Even Harvey and Evan stepped aside, as did the other Heads, creating a clear path for the one person in Sancta Vedelia more worshiped than even the Guardian himself had been for centuries.

The Prophetess of the Holy Tree of Eden.

Celeste Indi Zestella.

The sound of her sandals was soft against the platform, accompanied by the graceful sway of her pure white gown. And yet that delicate sound seemed to fill the silence all the same.

The entire place fell still.

Every eye turned toward her as she walked forward.

She was looking divine right now.

Her long snow-white hair had been drawn back into a regal braid, while a few delicate strands fell beside her face and over skin so pale it nearly matched the brightness of her hair. There was something almost unreal about her, something too serene, too radiant, too sacred to belong to the mortal world.

When she reached the front, she stopped.

Then she lifted her gaze.

Her pure white eyes looked out over the crowd.

For one suspended second, silence held everything in place.

And then the crowd erupted.

Cries rose at once, cries of joy, of grief, of desperate hope. Some called out in mourning, some in worship, some almost as though begging for salvation. Hands were raised toward her from every direction, trembling, pleading, reaching.

When Claudia had become Prophetess, things had not been prepared with such care. But with Celeste, everything had been different from the beginning. Her rise had been carefully shaped, carefully presented, and with time her popularity had only grown. Then came the Blood Wedding, and the news that she had played a part in bringing that horror to an end. After that, her image had risen even further, until now she stood before them almost like a goddess in white.

Even beneath all their grief, even with mourning still fresh and raw in their hearts, the people could not hide what swelled within them at the sight of her.

Hope.

Perhaps, after all of this, there might still be a better future.

Even the nobles looked startled by the intensity of the crowd’s reaction.

But Alector did not seem surprised in the slightest.

For the people of Central Vedelia, this was the first time they were seeing with their own eyes, in living flesh, the new Prophetess of the Holy Tree of Eden, and at such a moment, immediately after the tragedy of the Blood Wedding. There could hardly have been a more powerful time for her to stand before them.

Their fear, their grief, their faith, their need to believe in something greater than ruin, all of it was magnified at once as they cheered for Celeste.