There was always a meeting with the heroes, known as the Council of Virtues. There, the current heroes, their apprentices, and a few predecessors gathered, along with the occasional presence of the pope.
The Hall was large, featuring a circular table with eight chairs, one reserved for the pope if he appeared. Each chair was assigned a name representing a virtue according to the Church of the Three Saints.
The heroes entered a strange and specific order, based on their time as heroes and age, always starting with the youngest or the one who had spent the least time in that order, moving to the oldest.
The first to enter the hall was a person who appeared to be from the northern part of the continent, their skin pale like the northern snows, and their long, thick black hair was suited to protect against the snow of that distant island. Their clothing was such that it was difficult to tell if they were a man or woman, which was also a strange characteristic of the people of Ahren. This person was known as the Child of Ahren, Hotaru. They lazily sat in the chair of Diligence.
The second to enter was the well-known figure of Hiraeth, dressed in red and silver armor, wielding her sword before sitting in the chair of Humility. A person of firm stature and altruistic energy, her presence changed the air of the room; she was a hero of virtue, a war hero. Others followed her gaze until she stood in front of the chair of the virtue of Humility. Oh sweet child, whose humility wounds the pride of others.
An incredibly tall man entered next, almost simultaneously with Hiraeth. His hair was a nearly black shade, and his green eyes shone like leaves glistening with rain. His lightly tanned skin and careless style attracted the attention of many young ladies passing through the temple, even though he was rarely seen in public when not summoned. This was the hero of Temperance, famously known as Rusi from the slums of the capital, who took the chair next to Hiraeth.
Right behind, as if they were walking together, Jonathan entered the hall with a medium height and a rather sleepy demeanor. His attitude was lazy; he just wanted to return to his aunt Lady Brancos' home and finally rest, but he had been summoned to this place, which he didn't always enjoy being in for certain reasons.
It took a moment, but like the grace of a bird, a woman entered, wearing a black outfit similar to a kimono, but with a higher and completely awkward obi. On top of her dark clothing was a bijia, something akin to a jacket. Her hair was in a totally awkward bun, secured with a hairpin shaped like a bright red flower. She walked clumsily, her bare feet visible through the slit in her clothing, yet she held her head high despite her state. This woman was the fifth to enter the room, the third-oldest member in that order. Her presence was silent; no one knew her name, only her title: Marchioness of Alcanzar. She walked toward the chair of Charity.
An albino figure entered the room next; this was Sasha. Unlike the other two women, she wore noble clothing, and it was easy to tell that the fabric was linen and silk. Her gamurra was a cyan shade with silver thread details, and some parts of her dress were accented in pink, like the emblem of the Eidel family. Much of her hair was hidden beneath a mesh net adorned with small stones, with just a few front strands visible. With a smile, she greeted those already in the room, receiving smiles or slight nods in return. She headed toward the chair of Purity.
Finally, the last man entered, his red hair graying with age. He was still tall for someone so advanced in years in that world. His all-black clothing indicated eternal mourning for someone, and with a cane, he walked slowly to the circular table and made his way to the chair of Patience.
Making a sign for the others to sit, he soon took his place and looked at them with a smile in his eyes. The old red-haired man took out a pendant with the symbol of the Ecclesia and placed it on the table atop a circular object that shone. That was their symbol; it was their "crown." Each one did the same, making the circular object glow, revealing that they were the same, with no distinction: the legitimate heroes of virtue of the Church of the Three Saints.
The oldest among them took the lead in the meeting, as the pope was not present. "Well, it has been five years since we last gathered here," the old man said, looking around the table, positioning himself more centrally. "We should start from the beginning for those who have not been here during these five years."
Jonathan sighed and let his shoulders relax. "What important things have happened since the death of Emperor Klain II? It's not as if we've all managed to mourn the imperial loss." After the emperor's death, the holy war broke out, and at no point could the citizens mourn the good emperor, nor was the current one crowned according to tradition.
The old man sighed. "We know, Sir Liberalitas." Jonathan felt a chill run through his body; it had been a long time since he had heard that. Sir Patientia continued, "But as the structure of the empire, we should be the best informed, am I right, Dame Caritas?" The woman seemed somehow downcast, bringing her sleeve to her mouth and merely shaking her head in response.
The Child of Ahren banged on the table, appearing quite irritated. "There's nothing to say, but do I have to hear this nonsense again? Can't I leave?" The old man merely sighed at the younger one's attitude, but he could not stop him, so he let him go.
This elicited a laugh from the careless Rusi, knowing how spoiled that boy was, even if in a strange way due to the beliefs of that church. "Don't laugh at him, Sir Temperantia; he has just been here less time than you." The man with red hair was firm.
A certain tension was felt in the air; they would need to lighten things up somehow, as the stones in the ashtray began to glow. Sasha cleared her throat to draw attention and quickly said, "Sir Patientia, tell us what is so important since we were in the field of battle?" The old man smiled contentedly, as if a grandchild had asked the right question, and that delighted him.
"Well, if we were to start from the last five years…" Sasha quickly regretted starting that question.
***
"Thus, it was decided that the young emperor should marry the second princess of Aruin; their wedding and coronation are to take place in…" They had lost hours on this, and the three—Jonathan, Sasha, and Hiraeth—could feel that night had already fallen after all that.
Furthermore, the old man still had much to say when he was interrupted by Rusi. "Old man Gali, you don't need to say everything today, right? A lot has happened in five years." Some sighs of relief were heard.
"Oh, yes, you must be tired from your long journey here; we can continue in the next meeting." The old man took the pendant that had stopped shining and stood up, whistling with a certain happiness as he left.
"Sasha, next time, let things be." Jonathan warned, taking the pendant; somehow, he was irritated, as he wouldn't be able to reunite with his family earlier. He left the room. Rusi did the same, followed by the silent Caritas.
Only Sasha and Hiraeth remained in that room. When the two looked at each other, they shared a memory of that night and blushed. Sasha quickly stood up. "Well, I need to go; Sir Al must be waiting for me to go home." She grabbed her jewel and left, her ears red.
Hiraeth watched her leave with a smile of great happiness, unsure exactly of Sasha's feelings about it all, but they seemed to be well reciprocated.