52. The Heir of Light.

52. The Heir of Light.

~Esmarie Seraphine Vale~

I stared blankly at her.

This definitely wasn't the time for jokes.

I waited for her to laugh it off, to scoff or roll her eyes and tell me that they had done something to make the Guardians submit in such a grand manner.

But she didn't say anything else. Her eyes remained steady, gaze unflinching as she turned back to the kneeling Guardians.

Me?

The thought echoed in my skull like a bell tolling through an empty church. The faint glow beneath my skin pulsed again, stronger this time, practically competing with the light from the moon, Illuminating the clearing. It didn't hurt—but it felt real, like something alive underneath my skin.

God... I am really glowing like a light bulb.

This is really happening.

How?

"You're pulling my legs." I whispered, the words tumbling out in a shaky breath. "They're not— I mean—why would they kneel to me? They're literally out to kill me..."

Hemne didn't answer. Her eyes were narrowed into slits, mouth pursed like she was holding back what she actually wanted to say.

In front of me, Ciro shifted closer, his back almost brushing against my forehead. I inched closer in return, searching for some kind of answer. Anything to explain the absurdity of Hemne's words and the scene before me. I couldn't see his face but the muscles at his back remained rigid with tension.

He didn't quite understand the situation too.

Thorne muttered something low under his breath, a curse maybe, but I barely heard him.

The Guardians didn't move a single inch. They stayed kneeling, heads bowed in perfect unison. Even the wind had stilled.

It was like the world itself was holding its breath.

Ciro's voice broke the silence finally—low and rough as his fists finally unfurled."Hemne....what's happening?"

Hemne swallowed, her throat bobbing visibly before she whispered, "It's not the Guardians, Ciro. It's her. She's...calling to them. They recognize her."

I froze. Call to them?

In my right mind??

"No...no," I breathed, shaking my head. "No, I'm not doing anything."

"You are," she said softly, stepping to the side, breaking the protective circle they had formed around me."I can see it. The energy around you—Esmarie, it's not magic or a spell. The Guardians are naturally submissive to your bloodline. To your Divinity."

My heart began to hammer wildly in my chest.

"Ciro…" I whispered.

He turned to me, his expression unreadable—equal parts concern and confusion. "She's not wrong". he said hoarsely. "The Veil revealed the prophecy while you were away. We figured out the mystery behind your orgins."

My mouth opened so wide I could have swallowed a Guardian right now.

"W...what?"

Before I could continue the largest Guardian—still kneeling—lifted his head. The motion was slow, deliberate, and when he spoke, his voice was like grinding stone and thunder all at once.

"The Heir of Light has risen."

My breath hitched.

The words rippled through the clearing, repeated in a haunting chorus by every other Guardian, until the forest trembled with the sound of it.

"The Heir of Light has risen."

Me? The Heir of Light? It was impossible. I was just Esmarie—a kid abandoned by her parents, a nobody, dragged into this world by a bond I didn’t ask for. Yet the glow, the prophecy, the way they knelt—it was all real, and it terrified me.

Hemne’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, steady but urgent. “Esmarie, go to them. Tell them to rise.”

I whipped my head toward her, my heart skipping a beat. “What?” My voice came out shrill, my hands trembling at my sides. “You’re joking, right? I can’t just—walk up to them! They’re… they’re 'Guardians'!”

They could rip me apart easily with one blow.

Ciro’s growl was immediate, his broad frame stepping fully in front of me, blocking the Guardians completely from view. “No,” he snarled, vibrating with authority. “She’s not going anywhere near them. They could be pretending.”

Hemne’s eyes flashed with frustration, but she kept her tone calm. “Ciro, trust me. They’re not here to harm her. They’re submitting to her. She needs to show them she accepts their allegiance.”

“Allegiance?” Ciro’s voice was sharp."They’ve hunted her since she arrived. I’m not risking her life on some hunch.”

“It’s not a hunch. The prophecy—the Veil—confirmed it. She’s their heir. They won’t hurt her. She's one of them".

Ciro’s jaw clenched, his eyes blazing as he looked between me and the Guardians. “No,” he repeated, his voice final. “I won’t let her near them.”

Hemne didn’t back down.“Then go with her. But just know she has to do this, Ciro.”

I swallowed, my throat dry, my pulse hammering. The idea of walking towards them literally had me rethinking my life choices.

“Ciro… maybe she’s right. I don’t understand it, but… atleast she needs to know.” Thorne chipped in from where he stood beside an unconscious Fenrick.

Ciro's burning eyes searched mine, torn between his conflicting need to protect me and the fact that i needed to see the truth myself. For a moment, I thought he’d refuse again, but then he exhaled, a rough sound, and took my hand. His grip was warm, unyielding, anchoring me. “Fine,” he said, his voice low. “But you’re not going alone. You’re with me.”

I nodded, my heart pounding as he led me forward, practically holding me upright as i limped. Up close, the Guardians were even larger than I thought. Despite kneeling, they still towered over me.

We stopped right in front of the lead Guardian. The one who had spoken. His helm was large, practically the same size with my upper body and gleaming under the light reflecting from my body like ice cubes.

Ciro’s body was a shield at my side, his grip on my hand steady while I clutched his so tightly i was sure my nails would leave marks in his skin. I was trembling so hard I thought I’d collapse.

“Don’t be afraid,” Ciro murmured, his voice soft but fierce, meant only for me to hear. “You’re with me, Esmarie. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. My free hand reached out, shaking as Ciro's hand on my waist supported me up unto my tippy toes.

My eyes pressed shut, lips clamped tightly together , bracing for impact as my finger finally touched the Guardian’s helm. It was cold—so cold that it almost burned.

Goosebumps erupted through me at the contact.

I watched in awe as the glow of my fingers on its helm dimmed softly, as if recognizing the gesture.

I took a shaky breath, my voice barely a whisper. “Rise.”

The Guardian’s head lifted slowly as i retracted my palm. The faceless void staring into me, through me, as if seeing something I couldn’t. My breath hitched, fear spiking, but then he stepped back, rising to his full height. One by one, the others followed, their movements synchronized, a sea of armored figures standing in silent reverence. The air hummed with their presence, not threatening but… waiting.

For me.

Heavens.