Elder Sorrin had moved to the center of the dais, raising his hands for silence.
The murmur of conversation gradually died away as attention turned to the elder. Kal observed the faces in the crowd: so eager, others calculating, a few bored. The Academy's political factions were all well-represented, each hoping to gain so advantage from the new Saint.
"Esteed colleagues, honored guests, cherished students," Sorrin began. "We gather today in celebration of a montous occasion: the selection and anointnt of a new Saint."
Standard opening, unchanged across hundreds of loops. Kal could have recited the entire speech from mory, having heard various versions of it each ti a new Saint was presented.
"As many of you are aware," Sorrin continued, "Headmaster Monroe is currently engaged in matters of great importance that have called him away from the Academy. He has authorized to lead this ceremony in his absence, with the full endorsent of the Council of Elders."
The careful phrasing drew a slight smile from Kal. "Matters of great importance" was certainly one way to describe being trapped in a painting. The politics of the Academy demanded that Monroe's absence be presented as intentional rather than concerning, at least publicly.
"Traditionally, this ceremony marks the transfer of responsibility from one generation to the next," Sorrin continued. "It is a ti of continuity, of honoring the past while embracing the future. But today's ceremony is unique in ways that none of us could have anticipated."
The elder turned slightly to look directly at Tomas, who stood at the front of the gathering, dressed in the elaborate ceremonial robes of a Saint. The boy appeared composed, though Kal detected a slight tension in his posture.
"The Blue Sun has not only chosen a new Saint from among our candidates but has blessed us with one unlike any before. Saint Tomas cos to us not from the noble houses that have traditionally supplied our Sainthood, nor from the monastic orders that prepare lifelong disciples. He cos to us from the heart of the common people, from the very villages our Order is sworn to protect."
A murmur rippled through the crowd at this explicit acknowledgnt of Tomas's humble origins. It was a political move on Sorrin's part, reframing what might be seen as a disadvantage into a symbolic strength. The elder had always been skilled at narrative manipulation.
"In the sacred chamber of the Cerulean Spire, Saint Tomas demonstrated a resonance with the Blue Sun's energy that exceeded our asuring formations' capabilities," Sorrin declared, his voice rising. "Where other candidates absorbed what they could safely contain, the Blue Sun itself increased the flow of energy to Saint Tomas by three hundred percent, and still he showed no sign of strain."
"We have consulted the ancient texts, the oracle pools, and the mory crystals of our predecessors," Sorrin continued. "All signs point to the sa conclusion: Saint Tomas will usher in a new era for our Order, a ti of transformation and renewal that will strengthen our sacred mission to protect this world from the corruption of the Red Sun."
Kal's eyes narrowed slightly at that. In previous loops, similar statents had been made about Laelyn or Aric, but they always felt like traditional rhetoric rather than specific prophecy. Sothing in Sorrin's tone suggested he genuinely believed Tomas's selection marked a significant shift.
"And now," the elder concluded, gesturing expansively, "it is my honor to present Saint Tomas, who will address us all and bestow the blessing of the Blue Sun upon this gathering."
As Tomas reached the steps leading up to the platform, sothing changed. He paused, his body suddenly rigid. For a mont, he stood frozen in place, as if listening to sothing no one else could hear.
Then, without warning, he collapsed.
Gasps erupted from the crowd as Tomas fell to his knees, his face contorted in what appeared to be pain. His eyes rolled back, showing only whites, and his limbs began to shudder violently.
Several attendees moved forward instinctively to help, but Elder Sorrin raised a hand, stopping them.
"Stay back," he commanded. "The Saint is receiving a vision from the Blue Sun."
The seizure continued for nearly a minute. Tomas's body jerked and twisted, his breathing coming in harsh gasps. Foam gathered at the corners of his mouth, and a thin trickle of blood ran from his nose.
Kal watched intently, his mind racing. This was unexpected. In previous loops, when either Laelyn or Aric had been chosen, they never received visions during their presentation ceremony. Typically, the Blue Sun's communications ca later, in private, after they had settled into their role.
A public vision, occurring during a formal ceremony, was unprecedented.
Sothing had changed. Sothing significant.
What was the Blue Sun trying to tell him?
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Gradually, Tomas's convulsions subsided. His breathing steadied, and awareness returned to his eyes. With visible effort, he pushed himself back to his feet, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.
The pavilion was utterly silent now, hundreds of people watching in stunned anticipation.
Tomas took a deep breath, then climbed the remaining steps to the dais. When he spoke, his voice carried a new authority, resonant and clear despite his recent seizure.
"The Blue Sun has granted a vision," he announced, his gaze sweeping across the gathered audience. "One week from today, the Blue Sun Academy will march against the Red Sun Academy. We will destroy the forces of corruption and bring peace to this world."
Silence held for a heartbeat, then erupted into chaos.
So mbers of the audience cheered, their faces alight with righteous enthusiasm. Others looked troubled, exchanging concerned glances at the prospect of imminent conflict. The elders on the dais had varying reactions: surprise, confusion, and in so cases, clear alarm.
Kal kept his expression carefully neutral, though internally his thoughts were racing. This declaration was wildly premature. In previous loops, the Blue Sun's command to attack the Red Sun Academy always ca later, usually four weeks into the Saint's tenure, not imdiately after their presentation. And it was never announced publicly in this manner.
A week was barely enough ti to prepare.
Worse, it would allow Red Sun spies, and there were always spies, to warn their Academy. By the ti the Lightweavers arrived, Hiron and his elders would be fully prepared for the assault.
Such a frontal attack was dood to failure. Kal had tried similar approaches in early loops, only to be decisively defeated each ti. It was only through careful planning, strategic positioning, and the elent of surprise that he'd managed to eliminate three of the four Skybound elders in his most successful iterations.
This was wrong. All wrong.
And yet, the Blue Sun itself had apparently commanded it. If Tomas's vision was genuine, and the physical intensity of his seizure suggested it was, then the Blue Sun was deliberately altering its strategy from previous loops.
Why?
As the commotion in the pavilion continued, Kal studied Tomas carefully. The boy seed composed now, standing tall despite his recent ordeal. His eyes were clear, his expression serene. If he understood the implications of what he had just announced, he showed no sign of concern.
Elder Sorrin raised his hands, calling for silence. Gradually, the noise abated, though a nervous energy continued to ripple through the crowd.
"This is indeed montous news," Sorrin declared, his voice steady despite the obvious surprise in his eyes. "The Blue Sun has spoken through its chosen vessel. We will heed its wisdom and prepare accordingly."
He turned to address the other elders. "The Council will convene imdiately following this ceremony to discuss the preparations for our sacred mission."
The rest of the ceremony proceeded according to tradition, though Kal barely attended to it. His mind was consud with analyzing this unexpected developnt, considering its implications for his larger plans.
If the attack on the Red Sun Academy was to occur in a week, many of his carefully orchestrated preparations would need to be abandoned or accelerated. Elder Neria would have to be dealt with imdiately rather than sent away. And Stone Haven monks might not arrive in ti to provide support.
Everything was changing, accelerating. But to what end?
As the formal proceedings concluded and the gathering began to disperse into smaller groups, Kal made his way toward Tomas. The new Saint was surrounded by well-wishers and curious disciples, all eager to hear more about his vision.
Kal waited patiently at the periphery of the group, observing Tomas's interactions. The boy handled the attention with remarkable poise, deflecting questions that probed too deeply into the specifics of the vision while maintaining an air of humble certainty.
As the crowd around Tomas thinned, Kal notice Elder Neria approach.
"Saint Tomas," she said, inclining her head respectfully. "May I offer my congratulations on your ascension and my gratitude for sharing the Blue Sun's wisdom with us all."
"Thank you, Elder Neria," Tomas replied with appropriate deference.
"I wonder," she continued, her gaze flicking briefly to Kal, "if you might spare a mont for us to discuss certain historical records? The archives contain accounts of previous visions granted to Saints throughout our Order's history. Comparing notes, as it were, might provide additional context for your experience."
It was a transparent attempt to separate Tomas from Kal's influence, to gain private access to the new Saint. In previous loops, Neria had always been cautious, approaching situations obliquely rather than directly. Her current boldness suggested she suspected sothing specific rather than harboring general concerns.
"A fascinating suggestion," Kal interjected before Tomas could respond. "Historical context is indeed valuable. Perhaps we could arrange such a discussion after our lesson tomorrow? The Saint requires rest following his vision."
Neria's smile remained in place, though her eyes hardened slightly. "Of course. There's no rush. The records have waited centuries; they can wait another day." She bowed slightly to Tomas. "Until tomorrow, then, Most Honored Saint."
As she withdrew, Kal noted the brief glance she exchanged with Elder Thorn across the pavilion. They were definitely coordinating their efforts.
"She seems very interested in my vision," Tomas observed quietly.
"Elder Neria has always been fascinated by history and prophecy," Kal replied. "Though in this case, I suspect her interest extends beyond scholarly curiosity."
"Oh?" Tomas looked at him questioningly.
"Politics," Kal said, the single word carrying volus of aning. "The Academy is not rely a place of learning but a complex ecosystem of factions and interests. Your unprecedented selection has disrupted established patterns, creating both opportunities and threats for various groups."
"And which group do you represent, Master Kal?"
Kal smiled slightly. "I represent the interests of the Blue Sun, as we all should. Though I find my interpretation of those interests sotis differs from others'."
"A diplomatic answer," Tomas noted.
"Perhaps. But a sincere one nonetheless." Kal studied the young Saint for a mont. "You have an interesting journey ahead of you. The path of a Saint is never easy, particularly one who arrives at the position through such... unexpected ans."
"I never sought this role," Tomas said quietly. "Yet here I am."
"Indeed. And now you bear the weight of the Blue Sun's vision." Kal glanced around the pavilion, noting how several people were still watching them with barely concealed curiosity. "We should not discuss the details here. Too many eyes, too many ears. Tomorrow, in privacy, we can speak more freely about what exactly you saw."
Tomas nodded. "Until tomorrow, then, Master Kal."
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