With the protection of Lord Sterling and the boundless resources of Lady Catherine, the "School of Truth" was established not in a cold stone hall, but in the very woods where Raul had first preached. Catherine had commissioned a series of open-air pavilions, draped in light linens that caught the breeze, allowing the students to remain connected to the nature Raul so often used as his chalkboard.
It was a scandalous sight for the 18th century: women of all stations—maids in coarse wool sitting beside gentry in silk—learning the "Forbidden Arts" of geometry, astronomy, and the philosophy of the soul. Raul moved among them, a ten-year-old tutor who spoke of the stars as if he had held them in his hands.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the students had returned to their homes, Raul sat within the central pavilion. Sarah and Elena were, as always, at his side, mending his robes by the light of a single, steady candle. Lady Catherine sat across from them, her eyes tracing the lines of a geometric proof Raul had sketched in the dirt floor.
The air was heavy with the obsessive, quiet devotion that followed Raul everywhere. The three women were silent, each competing in their hearts to be the one who understood his needs before he even spoke them.
Raul looked at them, his gaze lingering on each face with a profound, respectful warmth. "You three have carried the weight of my presence since the beginning," he said softly.
Sarah stopped her needle mid-air. Elena looked up, her breath catching. Catherine stilled, her hand resting on the dirt.
"Mother provides the home for my body," Raul continued, standing and walking toward them. "But you three provide the bridge to the world. I have many followers now, and many who listen to my words. But you are different."
He took Sarah and Elena's hands in his left, and Catherine's in his right.
"The world will remember the crowds and the miracles," he said, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "But here, in the quiet, I tell you the truth: You are my first Disciples. You are the pillars upon which this entire temple of light is built."
Sarah felt a tear escape, tracing a path through the dust on her cheek. "I am only your sister, Raul. I only want to keep you safe."
"You are the shield," Raul corrected gently. "Elena is the memory, holding my words when I am silent. And Catherine is the voice that demands the world listen."
Catherine's eyes shone with a fierce, renewed obsession. To be named a "Disciple" by the child of God was a title higher than any her father's wealth could buy. "I will spend every penny of my inheritance, Raul. I will build a thousand schools if it means your truth is heard."
"It is not the buildings that matter," Raul said, squeezing their hands. "It is the fact that you saw the light when the world saw only a boy in a cottage. You didn't believe because of a miracle or a decree from a Bishop. You believed because you recognized the Father within yourselves."
He looked out toward the dark woods, where the shadows of the old world still lurked.
"The Bishop is gathering men of iron," Raul warned, his pacifist nature tinged with a solemn weight. "He will try to tear down these pavilions and silence our words. But because you are my first Disciples, the truth is already safe. Even if they take me, they cannot take what I have given to you."
The three women leaned in, their foreheads almost touching his. In that moment, the hierarchy of the 18th century was completely erased. There was no "Lady," no "Peasant," and no "Child." There was only a circle of four souls, bound by a devotion that would soon face its greatest trial.