As always, thank you for reading. I truly appreciate all of you who take the time to read my writing.

Prayer in a Broken Cathedral

It's the first moment of peace I've gotten since I awoke from that five-year slumber. As soon as my eyes opened and my awareness returned, there's been one emergency after another. First, the urgent need to return to Garreg Mach in time for the Millennium Festival, because I made a promise to my students all those years ago and I could not let them down. Then, a battle right after. Now, finally, I've found a bit of time to catch my breath. Our group is establishing headquarters here in the monastery, and we're all settling into our routines.

Piles of rubble and massive cracks in the floor have not stopped people from visiting the cathedral. Some are longtime worshippers who find solace in continuing their usual routine, even during the chaos of war. Others had never prayed much before, until the world changed and they suddenly found themselves in great need of hope.

I remember the time when Sothis and I were trapped in the realm of unending darkness. She spoke to me then. She said she knew exactly what I wished for: "return to the forest, stop the enemy, and rescue the little ones". My wish hasn't changed much since then. I still want to stop the enemy and protect the ones close to me. But that task has grown immensely since then. If only Sothis and I could still speak, so that I could tell her my wish again, and we could pray together once more.

But that's not to be. Even though I have fused with her – even though I know she is always a part of me – I feel alone in this cathedral, as I bow my head.

The longings within me are clear. I know what needs to happen. But the question is: who to direct my prayers toward?

Other people know to pray to the goddess. But I – I have met the goddess. More than that, I am one with her. So I know, truly and absolutely, that when I pray, nobody will hear these prayers except myself.

The goddess . . . oh, the goddess that people rely upon, the one who receives their hopes and fears when the world is in turmoil. She who watches over everyone and serves as the mother of all life. Can I depend on her, too? Even though . . .

In a way, I am her. I know that the followers of Seiros are not imagining me when they pray, but even so, I feel responsible for them. I feel responsible for the people of Fodlan. And I fear that I am nowhere near as strong as the people need me to be.

My students, especially, are counting on me. Ah, how much they have grown in the last five years! They actually aren't my students anymore, but I still feel like a teacher and a caretaker to them. I fret over their well-being. They're stronger. More capable. But their eyes have become as cold as steel, hardened by the years of war. My heart aches to think of all they have endured. Worse still, the trials are far from over. The war rages on. It's unclear when it will end. We try to imagine the future, but that vision is shrouded in grey.

Still, as elusive as it seems, we must press on toward that future. It is our only choice. We cannot go back to our lighthearted academy days.

Ever since I awoke, and saw the ruins of the world I always loved, I have been gripped with a chilling terror. But even if it chills me down to my very bones, I must fight against that despair. My mind, my hands, my sword – every part of me must be thrown into ending this war. I must give my all to forging the path ahead. Stop the enemy and rescue the little ones . . . Just as I did before.

Sunlight streams into the cathedral. It feels warm. Even when the soil is soaked in blood, the land endures, and the sky and the sun continue their lovely existence. I find comfort in that thought. It makes me believe that as foolish as people are, we still have the ability to bring peace to this land.

END