NOVPUBThe day of the White Flower festival finally came, everyone from across South Neva and from the other continents came to celebrate it. They wanted to show how happy they were for defeating the demons and to grief with the families who lost their loved ones.
Rasmus walked out of the carriage with Carrion and Aris, guarded by dozens of knights because the people wanted to shake his hands. Rasmus didn't bother to look at those who were screaming his name and title. He didn't even glance at those who were hysterically crying out of gratitude.
"The others are waiting," Carrion looked at the hundreds of people around him. "Should we wait for Her Holiness?" He asked as he fixed his attire.
"We will wait for Lady Astrea. The others can wait," Rasmus answered as he stood still, resting his hands on his cane.
Rasmus stood there for a few minutes, not moving a muscle as his gaze was pointed at the monument. The place used to be a massive park for everyone to use in the center of the capital city. The place was turned into a vast space with hundreds of long tables made of stone, surrounded by tall trees.
The people kept observing Rasmus, and they believed he was standing there to mourn for the fallen soldiers. The names of the fallen soldiers were engraved on those tables, to remind everyone of their sacrifice. It only made them admire him even more, and began to focus on those who died, and not those who survived.
Not long after that, three carriages from the Holy Nation arrived. The people went silent because they wanted to see Astrea's condition, which was said to be severe. They were waiting for the carriages doors to open and to see Astrea's condition with their eyes.
Rasmus walked toward the second carriage since he knew which carriage that Astrea, Serena, and Daryus were in. The first and third carriages were used by the paladins and Videl to protect Astrea and Serena.
Once the paladins stood around the second carriage, the door slowly opened. The first one that came out of the carriage was Serena. It was the first time the world saw her face, the identity of the rumored Saint that helped them win the war against evil.
Serena watched the paladin put the wheelchair in front of the carriage for Astrea to use. She then lent her hand to a woman in a white silky robe with the Holy Nation emblem on it. The people saw nothing but a person covered in bandages, even most of her face was covered by it.
Astrea struggled to even stand on her own, and how she looked in pain when she sat down in the wheel chair because of the open wounds all over her bodies. She tried to hide it as best as she could, but she couldn't fool the people at all.
The people covered their mouths, their tears began to fall uncontrollably. Nobody moved their gaze away from Astrea, they began to think that it was their fault, and it was them who caused her pain and suffering. They thought if the people of South Neva were united, the evil wouldn't have grown and they could get rid of it a long time ago.
Astrea could see the sadness in their eyes, but then she responded with a gentle smile. Her smile didn't show any pain, regret, or even sadness, it was purely a smile of kindness without any layer behind it.
"Your Holiness! Thank you for your sacrifice!" A scary-looking big guy shouted and immediately bowed down. "I'm willing to die to fight the war Your Holiness is fighting!" He continued as he pressed his right hand on his chest.
His voice echoed throughout the street, and one by one people began to bow down and put their right hands on their chests. It became a complete silence, a moment of silence for Astrea and to show her that they would stand against evil.
Astrea couldn't hold her tears, and so she put on the hood and hid her face from them. She had to endure the pain in her eyes when she cried since the open wounds around her eyes stung when tears entered the wounds.
"Was it worth it, Lady Astrea?" Rasmus asked as he stood in front of Astrea. "The pain that you're enduring and the future you should have is no longer possible. Is it worth it?" He asked.
Astrea chuckled quietly and the tears instantly stopped coming out of her eyes. She didn't know if Rasmus asked those questions on purpose to distract her or purely curiosity.
"Thank you, Count..." Astrea slowly lifted her head and stared at Rasmus.
Rasmus stared back at Astrea with a stoic expression. She was unable to decipher whether he was confused by her answer or if it was something else. However, when Rasmus moved to stand beside her and didn't say a word, she believed she was right when he just wanted to distract her, or she could still be wrong about it.
Daryus began to push the wheelchair when Rasmus glanced at him. They all walked on a long street toward the monument where the Emperors, Kings, and all high-rank nobles had gathered, including Lenin, Agnesia, Novia, Uriel, Xena, and Garret.
People began to bow at Astrea when she walked past them. There was only silence and the sound of birds in the sky, the sound of the wheels rolling, and Rasmus's cane.
Once they arrived at the monument, they saw all the rulers of nations in South Neva standing around the stone tables. They read the names of the fallen, the sons, brothers, or fathers of the nobles from their nations. They all wore an invisible mask, an expressionless one because there was more than a face could make.
Everyone's eyes were on Rasmus the hero, Serena the fourth Saint, Astrea the former Saint, and Aris the Orthias. The four figures that changed the fate of the whole continent and saved millions of lives. They all bowed their heads down at them, showing their utmost gratitude and respect. The four of them bowed at the rulers back, and then joined them to begin the festival.
The rulers were curious about Serena, the mysterious Saint that appeared out of nowhere and helped them defeat the demons. They looked at the paladin behind her, which was Videl, wearing a full helmet to hide his face since nobody should know the man behind the helmet.
"Should we begin, Uncle?" Thalior asked as he looked at the emperor of the Suvistan Empire, Dasmont Ardantis.
"Yes, I believe you should announce it, Thalior," Dasmont nodded as he pointed at the podium in front of the hundreds of stone tables. "Your words hold more credibility because you were there at the front line, fighting demons," he continued.
Thalior looked at the other rulers, and they all agreed with what Dasmont said. He nodded with understanding and went to the podium with thousands of eyes on him. He looked at the thousands of knights and mages, wearing the crests from which nations and nobles they were from. He didn't know what to say because words wouldn't be able to express or describe what he felt.
When Thalior stood at the podium, there was only silence and the sound of leaves brushing against each other because of the gentle wind. It was cold, the snow was still falling a bit, but his hands were sweaty when he gripped onto the edges of the podium.
"Is there a right word to describe of this day? Joy? Sorrow? Both? Or something else?" Thalior asked, his voice was loud even though his expression was calm and his eyes were empty. "Should we celebrate what we have achieved, or should we grief for those who had sacrificed their lives for all of us to live peacefully?" He added, and began to look at the eyes of the knights who had lost their comrades and the people who had lost their loved ones.
The knights and the people didn't say a word nor did they react to Thalior's words. Their faces were expressionless, but their thoughts were aligning and resonating with his words. Some still couldn't accept that they had lost their friends and family from what had happened in the past six months.
"People tried to understand, and we are grateful for that, truly..." Thalior continued as he stared blankly at the stone tables. "Some of us might have moved on, finding a light to reach while the rest of us might are still standing still as if the world moves without us, feeling left behind," he continued as he tightened his grips on the podium.
"For today, brothers and sisters. Only for today we all look back and express our feelings toward those who had left us," Thalior said with a serious expression. "Speak to them as if they're still here with us for one last time. Release the guilt and pain, but never forget about it," he continued as he looked everyone in the eyes.
"Raise your bottle! Brothers! Sisters! Sit down at the tables, reminisce and enjoy this sacred moment!" Thalior said.
As soon as Thalior said that, thousands of knights and mages walked into the monument and took a seat on one of the stone tables. They all held their liquors and stared down at the names of the fallen soldiers during the final war against the demon army. They began to remember the moments they had with those names that were engraved on the tables.
Their armor and crests didn't matter, everyone talked to each other to remember the fallen with a laugh and a smile. The simple and silly moments during their time together with the fallen were the funniest stories at that moment. Tears were visible, but none of them hid it, they cried with pride and nobody shamed them for it. They could become themselves at that moment, sharing the pain and joy with the other knights and mages, and the fallen soldiers.
The people cried when they witnessed the pain and how hurt the soldiers were when they all laughed and cried at the same time. They wondered if their lives were worth saving when those soldiers had to endure the pain to themselves because nobody could understand their pain at all.
Rasmus decided to take a seat at the last step toward the podium, staring at the scenery of the bond between soldiers. Lenin decided to join him, sitting beside him as she smiled weakly at the overwhelming and sacred atmosphere.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Lenin asked.
"I don't see suffering and pain to be beautiful, Great Sage," Rasmus answered with a stoic expression. "It's something worth to remember, but it's not beautiful," he continued.
