Chapter 8: The Bread-Cake Declaration

The day for the entrance ceremony came at last. Like all of Saint-Noel Academy’s events, in addition to being a school event, there was a ritualistic aspect to the entrance ceremony. Mia walked into the student-filled cathedral, seated herself at the frontmost row, and closed her eyes. After some time, the ceremony began. First, a sacred hymn was sung in honor of the Lord. Next came the Rite of Incense, which was an important ritual in the process of inducting new students to the academy. It involved the students applying blessed aromatic oils to themselves and, immersed in their divine fragrance, promising to conduct themselves in a manner befitting the standards of Saint-Noel Academy.

Eventually, Rafina entered the cathedral dressed in a pure white garb. Its quality fabric was beautifully illuminated by the cathedral’s lighting and further accentuated the few areas of lustrously revealed skin. Mia regarded her angelic appearance with mixed feelings, as it reminded her of a certain sculpture she’d seen at Saint Mia Academy earlier.

Rafina accepted a torch from the priest and walked to the front of the cathedral, where an enormous silver chalice sat atop a ceremonial table. Inside the chalice was aromatic oil of the highest quality, to which she slowly brought the torch. There was a sharp crack followed by a burst of flame. Soon, a sweet fragrance wafted through the cathedral.

Huh. Not that I care all that much, but I guess premium aromatic oils are supposed to smell sweet. Makes sense. As a budding sweets freak with one foot in the sugar cult door, Mia immediately assumed there was a direct correlation between the quality of an aromatic oil and the sweetness of its fragrance. At this rate, she might want to start worrying about whether Rafina might one day try her for heresy. Anyway...

“Now then,” Rafina said once the sequence of rituals concluded, “Miss Mia, the student council president, would like to greet our new students.”

At Rafina’s bidding, Mia stepped up and drew a small breath. Standing at the front of the cathedral, the aromatic flame glowing like a halo behind her back, she gazed across the vast space, observing her audience. Another breath, this time deeper. After inhaling enough gaseous sweetness, she began in a soft voice.

“Greetings, everyone. I’m your student council president, Mia Luna Tearmoon.”

The pace of her heart was surprisingly steady, and her mind was calm. In preparing for this moment, she’d pondered and pondered...and arrived at a certain conclusion.

It’s likely impossible for the empire to keep its stockpile entirely to itself.

She’d considered a host of potential excuses...but ultimately gave up. Even if she were to fake the numbers of their provisions and successfully deceive both Sion and Rafina, she highly doubted she could keep the truth hidden from the elusive Serpents. Besides...

It’d leave a terrible aftertaste.

Having experienced no small amount of rejection in the previous timeline, she couldn’t help but consider how the other party would feel if she were to deny their request for help. Should she do so, a bad night’s sleep followed by a day of an upset stomach would surely be in store.

In which case, I might as well just assume off the bat that we’ll be sharing our provisions with other kingdoms.

That meant a change of course was necessary.

“What I’d like to speak about today...is the spirit of mutual aid!” Instead of it being her problem, she was going to make it everyone’s problem! “In other words, helping each other in times of need. We who are in positions of power must take care of the people we rule. During difficult times when our people are in great need, we must join together—all of us, irrespective of borders and nations—to help them.”

If she had to cough up some of her stockpile, then so be it. But by the moons, she wasn’t doing so alone! The point she wanted to drive home was essentially “if some kingdom asks for help, the empire will step in, but the rest of you had better pony up what you can too!” But her scheme didn’t end there. There was an additional goal—ensuring that, in a pinch, she didn’t end up with the short end of the stick.

“To help and to be helped... That kind of reciprocal solidarity between nations is absolutely essential!”

She spoke with passion and insistence, but if one were to bypass her words and focus on her intent, it would boil down to: “sure, the empire will open up its food stores to you during a famine, but if the empire runs into trouble down the road, you’d better give us a hand in return.” Helping each other in times of need, by Mia’s definition, meant: “I’ll help you when you’re in a bind, so make sure to help me back when I’m in a bind!”

Having realized that she couldn’t afford to hoard all her savings, she decided to ensure that she wouldn’t end up the sole sucker. If her pantry had to suffer, then everyone else’s had to too. And the most important part of this process was formally declaring so in front of Rafina, along with a roomful of young nobility who hailed from a multitude of nations. Past Mia had unwittingly made many messes of things due to ignorance. Present Mia spelled things out very explicitly so no one could do the same. Having learned from her experiences, she wasn’t about to give anyone the excuse of ignorance.

“That is the manner in which I’d like you to conduct yourselves. It is my dearest hope that you’ll be the kind of people who...” She took a moment to sweep her gaze across the room. “If today, you see a starving man who has no bread...then tomorrow, you will take the cake you’ve been looking forward to eating and share it with him. We would all prefer to have the cake to ourselves, but you mustn’t allow that desire to lead you to forsaking the destitute.”

What she did not do was ask them to take the cake they’ve been looking forward to eating and hand the whole thing to the starving fellow. After all, the principle applied to her too, and Mia wanted cake. Eating a little less and sharing the remainder was the absolute furthest she was willing to go in terms of compromise. Not a step more. Also, if the slice of cake had a strawberry on it, you can bet your behind she’d keep it on her portion. Strawberries were non-negotiable.

Mia exhaled before continuing.

“It is my belief that going forward, much will occur across the continent. A number of nations will likely enter a time of hardship. We, however, are fellow students of Saint-Noel. Together, we have breathed this divine aroma. And together, we live on a shared continent. May we all remember that, even after we’ve returned to our respective homelands.”

Then, she closed her eyes, as though praying.

She was praying, in fact.

Whoever’s listening up there, please... Please let Cyril and Arshia figure out how to make cold-resistant wheat. Because if they don’t, I really don’t think we’ll have enough food for everyone.

Mia’s speech that day would be forever immortalized in the pages of history, known to later generations as the “Bread-Cake Declaration.” The words she’d spoken were extraordinary ones, for they’d seemed like crude ale but aged like fine wine. When first uttered, they’d been undeniably trite. Stale, soulless words that every listener in the moment had recognized as the kind of empty talk they’d heard a million times over. “Help each other in times of need”? “The spirit of mutual aid”? Who would take such platitudes seriously? They had been received with the utmost respect, but behind every mask of politeness was a snicker and a snort. But somehow, as time went on...those words began to glow. The passage of time weathered away their hackneyed veneer, revealing a golden core.

They glowed because they were the words of Mia Luna Tearmoon, who not only spoke them, but lived them. She was first to act in accordance with their principles, setting a resounding example for all who followed.

They glowed because food-aid provided by the Tearmoon Empire saved no small number of lives. True to her word, Mia did not swat away the pleading hands of those in need. She did not forsake a single suffering soul, readily sending material assistance to each and every struggling nation.

Then, others began following her example. At first, it was the nations her friends called home. Then, their neighbors. Eventually, it grew into a massive movement that swept up the whole continent. Ultimately, this enormous current of popular sentiment became the foundation for a certain system. Mia’s friend, Chloe Forkroad, would go on to become the driving force behind the development of something known to future generations as the Mianet—a massive network of interlinking channels functioning as an extensive mutual food-aid system that spanned numerous nations and was often credited for the eradication of starvation death from the continent.

The founding principle of the Mianet was that eternally unshakeable Golden Rule professed in the Bread-Cake Declaration, which would be quoted and requoted by thinkers and philosophers of every era afterward.

...It should perhaps be noted that ultimately, Mia had literally just gone up and talked about cakes for her entrance ceremony speech, but no one had faulted her for it.

So, all’s well that ends well.