Lumen Sanctum Academy wasn't a royal school. It belonged to the Church of Ithil, the Moon that hung smaller and closer than the others. It answered to nothing but doctrine.
At Lumen Sanctum, the clergy had the final word on everything that mattered.
If they didn't want you, your name, your family and your title stopped meaning anything. They wrote the rules, shaped the lessons and decided what you "earned" when you failed their trials.
Inside those walls, doctrine came first. Everything else mattered only when the Church decided it should. Even the monarchs of the Territories of the Vera Continent had no standing there.
In that island continent, a newly crowned king or queen wasn't treated as legitimate until they received the ceremonial blessing. It was a private coronation performed by the Holy Pope himself.
And yet, despite the Church's reach, Lumen Sanctum Academy was not seen as lesser than Midka. Among southern nobles, it was often treated as more valuable than any royal academy for one reason.
Holy Magic was the reason.
It was healing that could drag a soldier back from the brink. It was purification that could burn corruption out of flesh. The kind of power that ended wars before armies even reached each other.
Still, bloodlines and bribes meant nothing at Lumen Sanctum. You could be the child of a duke or the niece of a minister and it wouldn't matter.
Only those declared chosen were allowed to take the first step. And only those who earned the Pope's favor were kept in the light.
Chosen ones. Saints. Saintesses. Pure souls.
There were countless labels the Church stamped people with and called it destiny. It's sickening how fast the world accepted those words as proof of ownership.
Far to the north, beyond seas ruled by monsters and routes ruined by unstable weather, the main human lands stretched across two massive territories. These were once held by the elves.
Calling it inheritance made it sound gentle. In reality, humans had moved into ruins that were still dangerous even for the Elven Race.
Midka Academy's domain was a massive enchanted territory. It wrapped around the school like a second world. It was filled with hunting zones, shifting borders and spatial fractures, places where one wrong step could turn a path into a grave.
It existed to forge young humans into something harder, or break them if they failed.
The Vera Continent was the second region, a large island to the south. It was smaller than Midka's domain but more important than the nobles liked to admit. Vera sat at the edge of the world's deadliest waters.
The sea there didn't end. Storms didn't follow the laws of nature and the line between animal and monster blurred until the distinction stopped mattering.
The farther south a person traveled, the less the world bothered pretending it was civilized.
Ships that returned came back scarred. The ones that didn't became stories, and those stories turned into prayers for these religious lunatics.
Vera was humanity's first wall against whatever crawled up from the south. And the wall kept taking hits.
…
Deep inside Lumen Sanctum's underground trial labyrinth, a young woman fought with her back to cold stone. There was barely enough space to move.
Sweat gathered along her brow, but her golden eyes stayed steady. Pale light shimmered around her, warm enough to push back darkness and sharp enough to make monsters hesitate.
Saintess Marina tightened her grip on her staff. Her focus slipped for a fraction of a second.
"Marina!" someone snapped. "You spaced out again. Stay focused!"
The sharp voice dragged her back. Marina blinked and nodded once. She planted her feet and lifted her scepter.
Blessed light surged outward in a wide sweep. The instant it touched the oncoming creatures, their bodies hissed and buckled.
Flesh unraveled into steaming fragments. Their screams came out high, wet and wrong, fading into echoes that clung to the stone.
Her teammates froze for a heartbeat, then rushed in to finish off what little remained. Steel rang out behind her. Someone muttered a prayer through clenched teeth.
Blood flecked the stone as the last scraps were cut down. But most of the killing had already been done.
Marina had used the ability she received after the Church declared her a saintess. They called it a blessing, proof of Ithil's love.
To Marina, it felt like something inside her had been grabbed and forced to shine on command. It was a bloodline ability. Lunar Consecration.
One after another, the monsters dropped as if she were collecting them.
"Saintess, that was incredible!"
"Well done, Your Holiness!"
Marina wiped the sweat from her brow and offered a soft smile. That was what she did now. She smiled and stayed calm, as if she belonged in the Church's story.
She acted as if the title didn't tighten her chest every time she heard it. Saintess.
The corridor lights flickered, washing the stone in pale reflections. The labyrinth smelled of damp earth, old incense and old blood that had seeped into the cracks long before Marina ever stepped down here.
Something heavy sat behind her eyes. Only weeks ago, she had been on her way to Midka Academy. Not this place. Not this continent. Not this life.
I was supposed to have fun with my boyfriend, damn it. Why am I here?
Her smile stayed in place, but her mind was a mess. She'd been normal. She wasn't weak or helpless, just normal in the way someone with plans could be.
She studied, trained and tried to keep up in a world that rewarded hard work. And she'd been doing it with Orion. They dreamed of a future together.
Orion Vale. The boy next door.
He was the annoying childhood friend who turned into something more one night. They'd been reckless, too young to think it through and brave.
Last year had been full of nights the Church would call unforgivable. She remembered his stupidly serious face when he tried to act calm.
She remembered the small smile he wore when he thought no one was watching. She missed the way he held her hand at the train platform, like he wouldn't let go even if the world collapsed.
He doesn't even know where I am. He probably thinks I vanished somewhere between stations, or that I made it to Midka and can't contact him yet.
The thought twisted in her chest. Her fingers tightened around the staff.
"Marina?" A girl with short brown hair and a neat noble accent leaned closer.
This was Serwyn, one of the few who spoke to Marina like a person instead of a relic.
"We're moving to the next chamber. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Marina said, her voice practiced and soft. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just... tired."
Serwyn nodded, taking it at face value. It made sense, if tired meant being dragged across the world by a smiling old woman who spoke of salvation and destiny.
They moved on, stepping over what was left of the monsters. The corridor narrowed, then opened into a round chamber carved with moon symbols.
A faint white glow pulsed through the stone like a heartbeat. Marina's eyes tracked the markings automatically.
The Church loved symbols. They loved rituals. They loved turning everything into evidence that it had always been meant to be. Marina hated how well it worked.
Her thoughts drifted again, back to how fast it had happened. One moment she was on a train with Orion, both exhausted and excited.
They were pretending they weren't terrified of the future. The next, an old woman in plain gray robes sat across from her, smiling like a grandmother who already knew her name.
"You carry Lumen in your blood," the woman had said gently. Marina had laughed. Of course she had.
Then the woman touched her wrist. Just a touch, and warmth sank into her skin, deep into her bones.
For a moment the world brightened, and something inside her answered. Then her chest tightened. Her vision blurred.
The train window smeared into light and motion. And then she was somewhere else.
Incense was thick in the air. Silver bells were ringing. Rows of white robed figures knelt as if Marina's existence were a miracle.
The old woman stood beside her, smiling. "Saintess," she whispered. "So you really are here."
Marina had tried to run. She tried to scream. Her body didn't obey, as if that single touch had carried an order she couldn't refuse.
When she finally managed to speak, her voice came out small. "Where's Orion?"
The old woman's smile didn't change. "He is not your path, child."
Marina had wanted to spit in her face. Instead, she stood there while strangers stared at her like salvation.
The Church didn't even bother pretending it was her choice. They fed her, dressed her and washed her.
They talked as if she already belonged. They called her pure, chosen and Moon's Daughter. Every time she resisted, they smiled wider.
"It is for humanity."
"It is for the south."
"It is for the death sea."
Marina called it bullsh*t. They spoke about the Vera Continent like a stage and Marina like the actress they'd waited centuries to cast.
Church spoke about monsters like storms and casualties like numbers. Then they spoke about Marina's womb like it was sacred.
She remembered the Pope's voice when she finally met him. He was calm and distant.
"A saintess is a promise," he said. "A saintess is a light in darkness. A saintess is... pure."
Marina smiled politely at the memory. I'm not a virgin, you old bastard.
She didn't say it out loud. Not because she was ashamed, but because she wanted to live.
It wouldn't matter anyway. The Church cared about the story, not the truth. They would press reality into shape until it fit.
Her bloodline had never been about innocence. It was lineage, a rare inheritance carried through shattered history.
It came from high elves with light affinity. These were ancient bloodlines that sometimes bled into humans through accidents of fate, politics and war.
Sometimes, a woman was born with Lumen in her veins. Sometimes, the Church found her. Sometimes, they were simply gone.
No one said that last part out loud. No one questioned it, except her.
The group reached the center of the chamber. A stone altar stood there, carved with moon phases.
Above it floated a pale crystal. It was slowly turning like a shard of trapped night. Serwyn stepped forward first, sword raised.
Something brushed through the air. Marina's skin prickled.
"Trap?" Serwyn asked.
A tall boy shook his head. "Test node. The instructors said something like this shows up before the third gate."
Instructors, Marina thought and almost laughed. Priests became instructors. Trials became lessons.
Marina stepped forward. Light gathered around her fingers without her meaning to, and the crystal pulsed back.
"Saintess?" Serwyn asked.
Marina nodded once, as if she understood. She didn't. She just refused to look weak in front of these people.
Marina wasn't weak, and she wouldn't show weakness even if it made her look obedient. She placed her palm on the altar.
Warmth surged up her arm, clean and bright. It felt like being inspected from the inside. For a moment, she felt see-through.
Then the chamber flared. Moon symbols lit up. The crystal spun faster. A calm, genderless voice echoed through the stone.
"Saintess candidate recognized."
Marina's heart dropped. Candidate? Not saintess, at least not yet.
A thin beam of light slipped from the crystal and wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet. It didn't hurt. That made it worse.
Serwyn let out a breath. "We did it. We passed. For now."
The others smiled with relief. Marina smiled too, using the same fake smile she'd practiced last week.
Inside, she was counting days and routes. She was counting people too. She looked for the ones who could be bribed, tricked, threatened or bought.
Just wait a little. I'm going to escape.
She didn't know how, and she didn't know where she'd go after that. The south was all death and water. The north was far, and the Church watched everything.
But Marina had one advantage the Church didn't understand. She wasn't a saintess in her own head.
She was a girl who'd lived a normal life long enough to recognize leverage. People lied. People took bribes. Systems bent when money or fear was applied in the right place.
And she was going to find those weak points.
These damn religious bastards. I'm going to show you who you're messing with.
Marina turned slightly. Her golden eyes lingered on a moon symbol carved into the wall.
In the glow, she looked exactly like what the Church wanted. She was a holy girl in a holy place. Her thoughts, however, were anything but holy.
Orion, you idiot. If you gave up looking for me, I'll kill you myself.
Serwyn touched her shoulder. "We should move. The next gate opens in thirty seconds."
Marina nodded. "All right."
They moved together into the next corridor. Marina kept her mask in place, her staff steady and her posture firm.
She was a saintess for now, a symbol and a promise.
I'm not your miracle. I'm not your purity. And I'm definitely not your obedient little moon doll.
Her eyes narrowed as the corridor dipped into darkness. When she got out of there, she was going to find her boyfriend. Even if she had to cross the death sea to do it.
Far away, on another continent, another academy waited. And somewhere inside it, the boy Marina refused to forget was about to begin his first school day.
The Church had taken Marina from the train. But they couldn't touch her spirit.
Never.