The Light of the Great Sage of the Empire —Princess Mia Burns Bright!—

Where there is light, there must be shadow.

Even in the beautiful capital of the mighty Tearmoon Empire, where the moon goddess herself was said to reside... Even in Lunatear, there were places cast into darkness.

Overlooked by the towering city walls, the Newmoon District was a slum ruled by death, disease, and destitution. Filth and rotting mounds of trash, long inhabited by worms and vermin, littered the streets. The sick lay helpless on every block, forsaken to their infirmities. Children, too young for despair but too wretched for hope, stared with empty, haunted eyes. There were no smiles, no dreams in their dreary world. Only hunger and the odor of constant decay. The people here did not live. Abandoned and with bare survival their only purpose, they were simply waiting for death to catch them. The Newmoon District was a hellish place, where the merciful moon did not shine, and its light only darkened the blanket of shadow.

Well, it had been such a place, at least. Now, the district has visibly changed. Streets had been cleared of refuse. The weak found willing hands extended their way, and the ill were no longer left for dead. Compassion was finally being offered as the rightful norm it was. This progress was evident on stone and skin alike, with scattered rubble and sunken eyes replaced by burgeoning buildings and smiling faces. Life was returning to the district, and its people, freed from the shackles of utter despair, had begun taking small but definite steps toward a bright, hopeful future.

“It’s all thanks to Princess Mia. Her Highness came to this place of darkness and lit it up with her wisdom and kindness,” said Ogen with a hearty laugh.

The soldier was well-built and wore light plate of polished silver. He proudly pulled back his shoulders, displaying the moon-shaped marking engraved on the chestpiece. It was the crest of the princess, and only the Princess Guard were permitted the honor of wearing it. Its members were all men of unwavering loyalty, but even among them, Ogen was special. He was the earliest witness, the one who’d served as Mia’s guard during her first visit to the Newmoon District. In a sense, he was the original. He’d been Princess Guarding before Princess Guarding was cool. And he was damn proud of it. Currently though, he was acting as guard not to the princess herself but to her guests, and he’d been tasked with showing them around the capital.

I wonder who they are... Her Highness’s schoolmates, maybe?

The thought further stoked his burning curiosity, and he studied his charges with even greater zeal. One of the guests was a boy with silver hair. His clean-cut features and gentle air were contrasted by the sharpness of his gaze. There was something distinctly...royal about his manner.

A prince from somewhere, I reckon. Same with the other one, I think?

The next subject of his scrutiny was a black-haired boy, not as overtly handsome as the first but charming in his own right. This one seemed gentler in disposition, likely imbued with the kind of delicate charisma that would go on to melt oceans of hearts with a single, sweet smile...if not for the subtle martial strength in his stride and stance. No, the second boy might exude a tender air, but there was iron in his core.

Whoever he is, he’s no average Joe. Seems like some sort of nobility. I guess that makes the third one an attendant.

His final charge looked a little older than the other two. This young man was no slacker in the looks department either, and it seemed obvious to Ogen that Mia was becoming a popular figure among her male peers at Saint-Noel.

Her Highness is a very pretty girl, after all... There must be tons of boys buzzing around her. They’d better not make any moves on her, the spoiled little buggers, he thought with classic paternal overprotectiveness.

Though he doubted Mia, the princess he was so proud to serve, would fail to select a worthy life partner, he still couldn’t stop himself from worrying. To him, she was not only an object of respect and deference but also something of a beloved little sister, whom he wanted nothing but the best for. In that sense, his thorough scrutiny of the three boys under his care left him...quite satisfied. He actually thought quite highly of the young trio, especially after the request they’d made for their tour of the imperial capital.

“We’d like to take a look at Princess Mia’s accomplishments, if possible.”

Seeing that they showed a keen interest in what she had managed to achieve, he resolved to afford them the utmost accommodation, even agreeing to take them to the Newmoon District, which would have been unthinkable under normal circumstances.

“Wow... So this is the district...that she helped...” commented the silver-haired boy, his voice low and pensive but filled with admiration, as he studied the area with fascination.

“Yes. I was lucky enough to have been there, guarding Her Highness on her first visit to the Newmoon District. It’s a day I’ll never forget.”

“You were?” asked the black-haired boy with genuine interest. “Could you tell us about that?”

Ogen nodded.

“I sure can, and wouldn’t you know it,” he said as he glanced down the street, his expression softening with nostalgia, “we’re in the perfect place for this story. It was right over there, you see? That’s where it all began. A child was lying on the ground...and Her Highness ran over without any hesitation and took him into her arms. She fed him. Gave him the snack she’d been carrying for herself. I swear, she dashed off so fast I didn’t have the time to react. Not my proudest moment as a guard, mind you, but that’s how she is...”

He finished with a grimace, but there was more mirth than dismay in his voice. It was a very fond memory, and he savored every time he got to retell the story.

“Her Highness wishes to go to the Newmoon District.”

He remembered clicking his tongue in annoyance when he’d heard that for the first time. The sudden directive had seemed like nothing but trouble. Figuring it was another one of the infamously selfish princess’s whims, he’d cursed his terrible luck. Who could have guessed how it would all turn out?

Sometimes, the last thing you’d expect is exactly what happens... Life truly can be wondrous...

“Then, she took the child with her to the nearby church that runs an orphanage. Before she built the hospital, that was the only place that could treat the sick. I know the father there is on very good terms with Her Highness.”

“So that’s what happened...” whispered the black-haired boy with a thoughtful nod before asking, “If it’s not too much trouble, could you show us there?”

“Sure, but... Well, are you sure? We won’t have much time to see any other sights in the capital.”

When it came to touring Lunatear, the Whitemoon Palace was the first thing that came to mind. Standing at the center of a circle of villas belonging to powerful noble families, it and its stately neighbors comprised the Fullmoon District. Another common destination was the Grand Market, which always teemed with merchants. Those were most popular among foreign tourists, and this pair of locations alone was enough to keep visitors occupied for days on end. That was why Ogen wished to make doubly sure of the boy’s intention.

“That won’t be a problem,” the silver-haired boy answered in the other’s place. “We’re here because we want to learn more about what Princess Mia has done.”

“I see. Good, good... In that case, the hospital is on the way to the church, so I’ll bring you there first.”

He exhaled to clear his mind and refocus. This trio of guests were likely Mia’s schoolmates, and judging by their behavior so far they held a favorable opinion of her. In fact, he had a gut feeling one of them might even share a more intimate relationship with the princess.

All right, this is my time to shine. I need to give them a detailed account of everything Her Highness has accomplished. It has to be thorough, but it can’t come across as boastful. A fine line to walk.

Feeling a rising sense of excitement—he was no stranger to the thrill of a challenge—he gave the boys a conspiratorial grin.

“By the way, about that hospital... Did you know that Her Highness blindsided everyone with the method she used to raise funds for its construction? Let me tell you, what she did was downright brilliant...”

And so, he began gleefully recounting the tales of Mia’s exploits in the tone of an older and very proud brother.

They ended up spending the rest of the day walking around the Newmoon District. With dusk fast approaching, the trio decided to stay the night at the church. Ogen had insisted on showing them to an inn, but after much convincing, he reluctantly agreed to leave them in the father’s care. After parting ways with the uneasy guard, Sion, Abel, and Keithwood shared a wry laugh.

“Wow... Mia’s popularity is really something else,” said Sion, still ruminating on the pure enthusiasm Ogen had radiated when speaking of her.

“To be admired by one’s subjects is, after all, a sign of a great ruler. And a great ruler she’ll be, judging by the look of things. Not that I’m surprised,” quipped Keithwood with a smug told-you-so grin, the gesture a complete reversal of the silent, stoic persona he’d adopted in front of Ogen.

Normally, the only time he dropped his deferential, always-half-a-step-behind-his-lord act was when he was alone with Sion, but all the sword practice Sion and Abel had been doing together had begun to draw out his true self in the latter’s presence as well. It was, perhaps, another example of Mia’s propensity for forming bonds—both with and between others.

“Yes... I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. Still, who would have imagined she could build a whole hospital from a single hairpin?” said Abel, making no effort to conceal his amazement.

“Tell me about it,” said Sion, clearly sharing the sentiment. “I mean, yes, I heard that she’d built a hospital...but I had no idea she did it by single-handedly prodding the nobility into action. And with a damn hairpin at that.”

The sheer genius of it all was, frankly, quite overwhelming, and though he was duly impressed, he also couldn’t help but feel a sense of defeat. If it had been him in her position, what would he have done? The thought stuck to his mind with unpleasant tenacity. He could certainly have thrown money at the problem. God knows he had no shortage of personal funds. He could even have ordered other nobility to do the same. Making it so they’d do so willingly though, practically competing with each other to part with more of their own coin...was a feat on another level. It would literally have been beyond his imagination.

Keithwood would probably just tell me to learn from Mia’s example...

It was true that for those who bore the mantle of governance, it was necessary to learn and absorb all sorts of approaches and methods to better themselves. That was fine. He had no qualms about his duty. Mia’s accomplishment was something for him to study. He could stand to improve by it. What he couldn’t rationalize away, however, was the frustration of being left in the dust.

“Ha ha, it’s so weird...”

Abel’s chuckling comment pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hm? What’s so weird?”

“Her. You. Me. All of us, honestly.”

Sion eyed him dubiously.

“What’s this about?”

“Oh, I was just thinking,” Abel replied, shaking his head with wry amusement, “here we are oohing and aahing about her building hospitals and influencing nobles, but normally, just hearing that a member of royalty gave away a personal item to a poor commoner would be enough to make your eyes pop out in surprise. If it had been any other princess, we’d be impressed by that alone, but because it’s Mia, we just sort of shrug.”

“Huh. Now that you mention it... Well, I never realized, but I guess we’ve all been raising our expectations of her. It seems like we’ve become a tough crowd to please,” Sion said with a laugh.

Soon, however, he would come to realize that even their immensely elevated standards were but child’s play—mere hillocks before the towering peaks that were the heights of the Great Sage’s brilliance.

“Oh dear, you’ve all come a long way, haven’t you? This way please. Follow me.”

Upon entering the church, they were greeted by a man who looked every bit the gentle-natured priest of stereotypical description. So genial was his disposition that they were minded to trust in his inherent goodness in spite of the common idiom about books and covers.

“I do hope you’ll forgive me for any inadequacies in your accommodations. It’s difficult for us to offer the usual comforts here,” said the father as he led them down a hallway.

“Hardly. We’re the ones imposing. We’ll take what we can get,” replied Sion, his eyes quickly scanning the aged building and lingering on a few spots where the wood seemed newer.

“Oh, I should also apologize for the poor state of the interiors. There always seems to be some more pressing issue, and we never get around to really fixing up the place,” added the father, perhaps having noticed the direction of Sion’s gaze. “With that said though, thanks to Her Highness’s instructions, renovations have actually been proceeding quite smoothly. A lot of holes have been patched up. The drafts, they used to be awful. Much better now.”

Just then, a young girl rounded the corner down the hall, walking toward them with a book in her hand. Sion presumed her to be one of the children from the adjoining orphanage, though the way she carried herself was almost...scholarly.

“Ah, Selia, good timing,” said the father. “Could you go make some tea for our guests here? They’re friends of Her Highness, classmates, and they’ll be staying a night with us.” Then, he winked at the trio of boys. “This, I think you can safely look forward to. The tea and sweets here come with the Princess Mia Seal of Approval.”

“They do?”

Abel responded with surprise, which seemed to please the father.

“They certainly do. She selected them personally, after all,” he said with a chuckle before continuing in an explanatory tone. “According to her, it’s because she plans to drop by with some frequency, so she figured she might as well stock up for her future visits by sending us regular shipments of tea and snacks. Furthermore, she said it’d be a waste if any of them were to go bad, so the people here are free to enjoy them as well.”

“Did she now?” murmured Sion, who immediately parsed what he thought to be Mia’s true intention.

It seemed clear to him that it was all just a flimsy excuse to get some tasty treats into the hands of these children. To give these young orphans, who’d known little of life outside the slums, something to look forward to. A small but definite bliss to get them through their days.

“Sounds like her,” said Abel.

“Yes, it’s definitely a very Mia thing to do,” agreed Sion.

The father showed them to a large room and bid them to make themselves at home before heading off. They obliged, putting down their belongings and resting their legs. After a little while there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me...”

The girl from before, Selia, entered bringing tea and sweets.

Let us rewind the clock once or twice.

“Huh? Th-They’re...princes?”

Selia’s eyes went wide upon learning of the guests’ identities. She almost spilled the tea she was making.

“Indeed. They’re students of Saint-Noel Academy, which Princess Mia attends, along with many others of noble blood. Oh, but don’t worry. I can tell that they’re kind. I’d expect nothing less from friends of hers, maybe she even rubbed off on them a little,” explained the father in a relaxed tone.

“Why? People like them, I mean— Why come here of all places?”

“Apparently, they want to take a look at what Princess Mia has accomplished. They’ll become kings and dukes in the future, and they’ll have to rule their own lands. I guess they want to learn from her example.” The father looked off into the distance, his brows furrowed but his lips smiling. “It’s a good thing, I think... Yes, a good thing. If there can be more nobles like Princess Mia, perhaps the empire will start heading in a better direction.”

Running an orphanage in an impoverished district was hard. Very very hard. The kind of thing that added years to a person’s body and weighed down their soul. It was a burden he carried from dawn to dusk, under sun and stars. And it was made heavier by every reminder of the nobility’s apathy...

“That’s why... I’m glad that they’re here. That they’re willing to emulate what she has done. After all, it might lead to more children like you. More...getting the opportunity that you have.”

The father smiled gently at her.

“More children like me...”

Selia felt a tug on her heart. It might have skipped a beat. She remembered the look that Mia had fixed her with that day, the utter conviction of that gaze.

More...getting what I have...

Those unspoken words lodged themselves in her heart like seeds, sprouting quickly into an intense urge to do something. To act on a thought she’d been having since meeting the princess. With a sense of purpose, she made her way to the princes’ room.

“Excuse me... I’ve brought some tea.”

The nerves were there. She could feel them in the tenseness of her back and the slight jitter in her hands. There was nothing wrong with that. She was speaking to princes. Nervous was the correct response, but it wasn’t all nervousness. There was far more pride. She’d been rescued—no, chosen to be rescued—by the Great Sage of the Empire herself.

“Thank you. Are these the hand-chosen sweets we’ve been hearing so much about?” asked the black-haired boy.

He had a soft, endearing smile, and judging by what the father had told her, she figured this had to be Prince Abel of the Kingdom of Remno.

“Yes. Her Highness Princess Mia gifted these to us. She is a very kind person.”

“I see...”

Abel nodded as he studied the tray. The silver-haired boy—Prince Sion, surely—and his attendant watched the first prince with good-natured grins. There was a prevailing gentleness to the boys, almost as if she could say anything to them without fear of unfair and violent reprisal. She steeled herself and drew in a deep breath to speak.

“Um, I know you must be very tired, but could I have a moment of your time?”

Summoning no small amount of courage, she lifted her gaze to meet their eyes.

“Hm? What is it?”

“I heard that you came here to learn about what Her Highness has done. So, I, um... I wanted to tell you my story. So you’d know what she did for me...”

Ever since the day everything changed, Selia had been plagued by a dark emotion. It had weighed on her mind like an anvil, and only after much thought did she realize what it was—guilt. She had been chosen by Mia to be rescued. That was undeniably true. But chosen or not, it was also undeniable that she had been rescued. Mia had opened a door for her, and the radiant path beyond it seemed to lead straight to her dream. The promise of education. A better future. She could learn whatever she wanted. Study to her heart’s content. Not a day went by where the thought didn’t flash through her mind, trailed by an exhilarating sense of hope and anticipation. But as time went on...

Just me? Is it really okay for me to be the only one rescued?

More and more, the question gnawed at her. She wasn’t alone in her blessing, of course. The whole orphanage enjoyed the boons of Mia’s favor, and she had no doubt that more children would walk her own path in the future. It was, however, a path with only one door, and that door was located in the empire, open only to its own people. She’d heard enough from the father and learned enough from books to know that the situation in other nations was similar. Poverty knew no borders. Many children elsewhere still suffered as she had.

Is it...right? For just me to be happy? To be the only one...

Whenever the question arose in her mind, it would always be accompanied by a vision of Mia, centered on her intense expression and piercing gaze. Selia could certainly strive for her own happiness. It was a worthy goal. But was it enough? Could she in good faith claim it was a purpose worthy of Mia’s blessing? Mia had chosen her. Saved her. Was she living up to this special privilege? The thought had troubled her for a long time, but now...she could finally put it to rest, because she’d found a way to do the equivalent of what Mia had done for her.

She summoned the courage to speak.

“Her Highness allowed me to enroll in her special academy...and said I will be placed under the direct instruction of the sagely headmaster. She looked me straight in the eyes.”

Maybe what Mia did for Selia that day would leave an impression on the princes. Maybe it would move them to do the same. The light shed by the Great Sage of the Empire on the Newmoon District was not a mere glow, but a flame. It could spread and illuminate the frigid shadows of other nations. She could do something for other children like herself, maybe even help rescue them, as Mia had her.

So, she told her story, putting into it her heart and soul and all the passion she could muster. She talked of Mia’s kindness and sincerity and the profound salvation they’d elicited, and more than that... She explained the pride she felt at being chosen, as well as her aspiration to live up to that privilege. The hand that Mia extended toward her not only pulled her up but also entrusted her with a duty to learn and improve. She needed to become someone of value for the empire and its people. In doing so, she would be an example for orphans everywhere and all who met them. Through her, other nations might come to see orphans in a new light, not as sources of wretchedness and misery but wells of untapped potential and talent.

It’s on me... As someone hand-chosen by Her Highness, I must live up to her reputation...

And her fears and uncertainties solidified into an unshakable conviction.

Sion waited for Selia to leave the room before letting out the breath he’d been holding.

“An academy city that rivals Saint-Noel...and one that enrolls gifted orphans to boot. I...” He fumbled for words for a few seconds before giving up. “Don’t know what to say. I think I’m still trying to work through the shock. Education for orphans? How many dimensions is she thinking in? The scope of her vision, it’s staggering.”

He leaned forward and grasped his forehead, as though the mere act of trying to envision the full scale of her ambitions was giving him vertigo. After a long exhalation, he tried again, this time more slowly. Feeding starving people was understandable. Tending to the physical needs of the weak was a natural duty of the nobly privileged. But to also open for them a path toward scholarly pursuits? He could probably count on one finger the number of aristocrats who’d ever had a thought like that. Meanwhile, Mia was building a second Saint-Noel, apparently determined to replicate not only its architectural significance as a city but also the ideology it subscribed to—to bestow knowledge without regard to parentage.

“It’s not just an act of charity either. It’s more focused. She’s clearly trying to bring up a new generation of young talent who can shoulder this empire’s future.”

To save a life was an act of kindness. It was virtuous to the highest degree and deserving of wholehearted appreciation, but in Mia’s case, she was satisfied by neither a single life nor merely saving it. Her eyes weren’t even focused on the present. She saw much further into a future where the ones she helped up would learn to walk on their own, pulling the welfare of the empire and all its people forward with them.

“Ah, I give up,” said Sion, throwing his hands up in defeat. “It’s just too damn high. Her vantage point is all the way up there, and I’m already gasping for breath down here.”

Keithwood shook his head, a little entertained by Sion’s reaction. Nevertheless, he proceeded to soothe his master’s frustration.

“Actually, now that I think about it,” he said as though realizing something for the first time, “maybe what she did isn’t so surprising after all.”

“Huh? How so?” asked a curious Abel.

Keithwood explained with the tonal flourish of a professional mystery solver. “It’s quite simple. Allow me to direct your attention to the young girl called Miabel. I do believe it was Princess Mia who thought to enroll her in Saint-Noel, thereby providing her with an education.”

“Ah... I see where you’re going with this,” said a nodding Sion.

Mia’s official stance—as official as such things could be, anyway—was that they were half-sisters who shared a father. Sion had never believed the story, figuring it to be a lie of utility to allow the younger girl to learn at Saint-Noel. Everyone else was aware of this as well, Rafina included, and had simply chosen to refrain from commenting. They all understood that it was something Mia did out of kindness.

“So that’s how it is...” he murmured after explaining his reasoning.

Abel, however, gawked at them.

“What? Seriously? I totally thought they were related...” he said before shaking his head. “Well, in that case, I suppose she’s probably also studying her behind off right now trying to live up to Mia’s expectations.”

They all shared a look out the window, envisioning the young girl diligently pouring over books in her room back at Saint-Noel.