I Became The Pope, Now What?

Sylvester’s heart sank, and he glanced at Xavia, who was stealing gazes like a child. She wanted to look at him but, at the same time, couldn’t muster the courage.

“Which healer checked her?” Sylvester inquired, though a hint of defeat was now in his voice.

“The best of the best. Saint Medico, Cardinal Charles Nos Leeds, the Pope’s Chief Healer. The Holy Father brought him himself.” Raven revealed.

Sylvester’s fist clenched so hard that his nails dug into his skin and made it bleed. ‘Those bastards! As I sensed back then through lies, Saint Seer is behind the attack on her! Since the Pope knew about the scheme of putting the Shadow Knight behind me, he must know of this too. Shameless lunatics! How can they now act as well-wishers when they are the evildoers!’

He took a long breath, rubbed his face and dragged a chair to sit beside Xavia. He then held her hand tightly while caressing his other hand on her hair as if she was a child.

“What did they say? Can she be healed?”

Raven nodded strongly. “Of course, in fact, she has already started to recover. Saint Medico said that her muscles just need to remember the feeling of all the movements again. But it will be a gradual process.”

Sylvester stared into Xavia’s eyes with a hundred thoughts emerging in his mind, trying to make sense of the sickness. ‘So is it something akin to Ataxia? But… Does that mean her spinal cord or a nerve was somehow harmed?’

He honestly didn’t know what to do. Could solarium alone heal someone like that? He could only hope that, eventually, he would teach her body movements again.

But, for now, he had sensed something else that made him sad more than anything else. He smelled the scent and sensation of fear from her. ‘S-She’s… Scared of angering me? Is it because of my outburst at her after Romel’s death?’

He remembered not talking with her nicely for some time after what had transpired back then, which had made her very depressed. But, now that he thought about it, killing Romel started a chain reaction that benefited him deeply in terms of influence over Riveria.

‘She… I have many friends, goals, and wishes but to her… I’m everything—her world starts with me and ends with me. Her loyalty to me is undying… And she fears me?’

Sylvester glanced at Xavia again, staring into her blue eyes akin to an ocean. She tried to look away but could not.

Pat!

He tapped her head and chuckled. “Hah, I guess I’m the mother now. I will have to teach you to walk and eat now.” ．

That immediately relaxed Xavia. ‘Good… Let go of that fear and anxiety, mother. You need not fear me… Rather, it should be those who dared harm you.’

Xavia chuckled and faced Sylvester nervously. “You’re not angry?”

“Why would I be angry at you? Instead, I’m angry at the administration that allowed this to happen. But, for now, let’s not talk about that. Have you eaten?” He asked while letting her rest back.

Knock! Knock!

But just then, knocks on the door resounded, and two female healers entered in their white robes. But they seemed annoyed seeing so many people in the room and tried to send them off.

“Only one person can stay. The rest of you go and wait in the lobby. It’s time for Mother Xavia’s muscle training.” The two healers busied themselves and tried to push them out. Since Raven was a regular, Sylvester and Isabella were being pushed.

But Sylvester didn’t even budge and glared into the eyes of the brown-haired, black-eyed, middle-aged woman. His golden eyes shined as if a predator was looking at a lowlife whose neck he could break at any moment. “Dare not touch me, healer. I am Xavia’s son. I will remain here for as long as I desire, and if you deny, then I will have the Holy Father write to you if you need so.”

“Y-You are the Lord’s Bard! Oh god! Can I hear a hymn—” She went into fangirling mode. But soon felt a tap from her partner and shut her mouth. She then turned to Isabella. “You, out of here.”

“I am Isabella Gracia, Crown Princess of Gracia. I shall stay here for as long as I wish.” Isabella repeated Sylvester’s words.

“…”

The poor healer rubbed her palm on her face and turned around. “Alright, I’ll shut up. Let’s go, Mother Xavia.”

In front of Sylvester’s eyes, the two healers worked hard to help Xavia slide to the edge of the bed. They were very delicate, and there were momentary frowns of pain on Xavia’s face.

Sylvester felt a fire rise in his heart as he saw Xavia’s body trembling completely. Her thin legs didn’t move unless the healer moved them. Her arm movement was limited to the point that only her wrists could move.

Certainly, her injury was much deadlier and deeper than anyone had reported to him.

Sylvester felt his heart go cold seeing her state. ‘I should start plotting for Saint Seer’s painful demise. Or if I can’t even defeat a mere rival spy, then I should stop dreaming of becoming the pope.’

Then, he saw as the two healers lifted Xaiva, held her arms over their shoulders and tried to help her walk in the long corridor outside. They tried to mimic the walking movement by tying Xavia’s feet with theirs.

Sylvester just shook his head at their crude methods and had already planned a healing treatment for Xavia. But, he didn’t disturb them as they only did their job—A tiring one from the looks of it as they kept going for half an hour.

After that, Xavia was placed back in bed to rest. By then, Raven had also taken Isabella to the food court, so Sylvester remained by Xavia’s side alone—her hand firmly held in his.

“Dear, who is this Shane Kolt?” She picked the old-looking book from her side and asked suddenly.

Sylvester recognised it as he had left it at home, on the bookshelf. He liked to read it as it contained a memory that always reminded him why he couldn’t ever give up.

Xavia continued. “He wrote such a cute hymn about you in this old journal… So I wrote one for you, too, taking inspiration from this talented man.”

Sylvester’s mind suddenly had a thousand flashbacks of the past, of the day his dreams changed from just surviving to wanting to conquer and build a world of his own choice.

Finally, his shoulders fell a little, and the exhaustion showed its effects. Since being born, month after month, crisis after crisis, he’d been battling foes, demons or uncovering nasty schemes—With his life constantly on the line.

It was bound to take a toll. ‘I… I feel so tired… But if I relax, it’ll be my neck and their deadly axe.’

So he took the journal from Xavia’s hand and put it on the side. “Not a man; he was a little kid, mum. A very good child… Who lost the fight against the darkness that lurks around us. Now, let’s not talk about this. You sleep and rest, as I will start your baby-walking classes tomorrow.”

Xavia warmly smiled and rested down. But she didn’t let his hand go and slept on her side, facing him the whole time.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere before I see you heal completely. Now close your eyes.” Sylvester assured her, sensing the worry in her heart.

Soon, the room got engulfed in silence except for the tweeting of birds outside. He caressed his warm palm on her head and ensured she felt safe, happy and calm.

Though, he could see she wasn’t sleepy from all the excitement. So, he decided to sing a hymn. “Since you’re the baby now, I will sing a lullaby.”

Once, there was a mother.

So pretty like none other.

She lived with her son.

Mighty like none other.?

He was born so fat.

Shined wherever he sat.

Rode like a knight on a cat.

But, the cat was also fat…?

“Pfft! Ahaha… Stop.” Xavia laughed uncontrollably. “I’ll sleep, okay? You’re terrible at lullabies.”

Sylvester adored seeing her smile and being happy. “Of course. Usually, I sing about death, god and burning heathens—So this is the opposite of my profession. Now, go ahead and sleep like a baby.”

Xavia held his hand tighter and made herself comfortable. “Don’t worry. This baby won’t cry too much.”

‘It’s alright if you do, mum.’

Before long, as he kept caressing her hair, she fell asleep, likely tired from her exercise a while ago.

“Maxy! I’m not fat! Also, I sleep with my big mum here.” Miraj soon jumped from Sylvester’s shoulder and tucked himself beside Xavia’s chest, putting his fluffy head on her arm.

Sylvester pulled the sheets over the two and patted both their heads softly. “Yes, lord Chonky, you’re not fat, and it’s just the fur. Now don’t snore and sleep like a good boy.”

“Aye, Aye!” Miraj closed his eyes and started snoring, thankfully not very loud.

Sylvester stayed with the two, caressing their heads for an hour or so. Then, when he ensured they were asleep, he picked up the journal and walked over to the balcony with a chair. The sun was still an hour from setting, so he had ample light to read.

First, he opened it and found the hymn. ‘O’ Great King of Bards’. Then, he turned the page and found what Xavia had written with her uneven handwriting.

In the calming breeze of the evening, he read it under his breath, trying to understand its meaning. Each line, each word related to him directly. He felt it was all written so lovingly—intentionally.

He read it once, and then he read it twice. He didn’t even know when it happened thrice. In the middle, however, he stood up and glanced back at Xavia, sleeping happily. Then the journal fell from his hand, and the meanings of the rhymes he began to understand.

In his mind, the hymns rhymed. It contained no Xavia’s wishes or demands. Instead, it was a proclamation—of her love, her life, and how she’d not be hindered by a mere sharp knife.

Woosh!

All of a sudden, for unknown reasons, in the Solis’ holy season—the halo appeared. Sylvester didn’t sing in words or breaths, yet it remained behind, shining brighter than ever. But that wasn’t all; his eyes appeared with an unnatural golden glow as if they, too, shined as he stared at the sun.

The aura surrounding him didn’t seem warm anymore, as even the glass door in the back seemed to turn white and crack. This was pure destruction, threatening all who sought his mind’s corruption.

“They came after me with the Shadow Knight, and I said nothing. Now they raise blades against my mother and erase her smile, and I’m supposed to still serve you? Sing your praise?”

Against the dusking sun, whose light slowly became frail, Sylvester’s eye and halo seemed to arrogantly prevail. But at Solis, no hymns, only questions he could exhale.

“This halo of yours, this talent in me—you gave it? You made me? You say you’re real? Then answer me—Is my simple dream of a little peace so impossible?”

Halo-clad, Sylvester knelt and saw the sun hiding behind the horizon. “Coward! Answer me if you’re real! Is it too much to ask to coexist willingly? Must I take the world for peace to exist? Or must I burn it all so none are left to resist?!”

In utter silence, his unanswered words were echoes of the future. An echo that was heard by oracles of far and closer. But no one could understand what it meant or who it represented.

However, the world’s actions were now going to define its fate. Will they realise their mistake? Or will it be too late? Will they die—Or kneel when Sylvester arrives at their gates?

It was an answer that only the mythical master wizards of time could state.

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<strong>O’ My Handsome Bard </strong>

When the times were sad, when the days were dark.

In my sorrow, you appeared—like a cheerful giggling spark.

You filled my life with joy; the difference was stark.

Who knew, with you on this thrilling journey—I’d embark.?

O’ My Handsome Bard, my life’s greatest blessing.

For you, your mum is always so obsessing.

Yes, I can sometimes be very unpleasing.

But for your well-being, I can’t help stressing.?

O’ My Handsome Bard, my peace of mind.

Thank god, our fates are forever intertwined.

So never worry when you’re feeling confined.

Remember, mum will always be standing behind.?

O’ my handsome bard, I know life has you vexed.

Embarrassing, but let me get these words off my chest.

I wish to be your mother in this life and the next.

If more, then that too, and the next, and the next, and the rest.?

<strong>— Xavia Maximilian, the proudest mum in the world. </strong>

[End of Volume 2]

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<strong>[Next Volume – The Brightest Light]