The familiar warmth of the morning sun broke through the gray haze left by the night's battle, painting the frost along the walls in a faint shimmer. Mia stood at the foot of the portal's towering arch, her breath curling in the cold air, waiting for the one person who could match her resolve in moments like this.
She didn't have to wait long. A ripple of holy mana brushed against her senses before Amelia appeared, walking with the same calm grace that she had always carried since childhood. The Saintess's white robes trailed slightly behind her, catching the breeze, and her golden hair glinted faintly under the pale light. Despite the weariness in her eyes from her journey, Amelia still carried herself like the pillar of faith she was meant to be.
(This is exactly the opposite to her personality but in public she had been trained to maintain the perfect image of a saintess and couldn't express her true emotions)
