"Remember to write me, okay?"

  I pushed a lock of silky blond hair neatly behind her ear, then cupped her rosy cheek in my palm. Her blue eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement. She squeezed her translucent ivory staff and nodded eagerly.

  "Yes, Sister!"

  This adorable child was Lumiere de Sol, my pride and joy. Though I was technically still a novice nun, I'd long been mentoring her in anticipation of this day.

  The day she would officially join the Hero's party, and begin her journey to defeat the Demon Lord.

  It was prophesied more than a century ago that when the threat of the Demon Lord loomed rgest, the Goddess would select a champion—the Saintess, upon whom the Goddess would bestow Her blessing and recognition.

  One month ago, on a moonless night, the Demon Lord's forces descended on our little corner of the world. But a beam of holy light pierced the sky, repelling the darkness. In one backwater vilge, in our tiny unassuming convent, the Goddess's light heralded the arrival of the Saintess.

  I smiled at her fondly. Of course, from the beginning, I had known exactly where she would appear.

  After all, this was the world of a game I'd cleared many times before.

  From the door came a soft knock. A muffled voice followed.

  "Ahem. Excuse me, Your Holiness. Are we all ready to go?"

  "Coming!"

  I wanted to curse the owner of that voice for interrupting our moment, but my fussiness had indeed caused her to depart an hour behind schedule. Ah, well. Heavy snowfall had blocked the major thoroughfares, so the retrieval and official recognition of the Saintess had already been deyed for weeks.

  But that didn't stop the wind from carrying the news of her arrival far across the nd.

  I pulled Lumiere in for a quick hug. Then, with a huff, I hoisted her luggage with both hands.

  Lumiere pulled open the door to our dormitory quarters, and we suddenly felt the nip of the chilly morning air. Together we stepped out into the sun.

  "Whoops! I'll take that."

  "Careful. There's gssware in there."

  A tall, bck-haired youth stepped forward to relieve me of the burden, deftly loading it onto the carriage. Like Lumiere, he was adorned head-to-toe in white and gold ceremonial garb. Against the heavy fur cape draped around his shoulders, his sharp outfit cut quite the figure. But still, my Lumiere was cuter.

  "Goddess be with you. You must be..."

  "Rocher, the Hero, recently appointed."

  If Lumiere was a main heroine, this man was the pyer-protagonist.

  With one confident tug of a rope, he secured the load. He pivoted, his heel drawing a circle in the snow, and he kissed the back of Lumiere's hand in one well-practiced motion. Then he turned towards me, and with some reluctance, I allowed him to pay me the same courtesy.

  The warmth of his breath lingered on my hand as he raised his head to meet my eyes. I frowned.

  Beneath all its trappings, the game was at its core an ero RPG. The Hero would move from conquest to conquest, collecting women like trophies.

  In a word, he was scum.

  I watched his verdant eyes widen, and felt him squeeze my hand just a little tighter. Great. Here it comes.

  "My dy. Forgive me for being awestruck," he said, breathlessly.

  "I had heard the Saintess was a beauty beyond compare. But to think, this vilge would be hiding not one, but two exquisite flowers! To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

  "Cire de Lune, Sir Hero. The Saintess and I grew up together in this convent as nuns."

  I pressed my lips together in admonishment, fshing him a dirty look. We're nuns. This ground was sacred. But my reproach seemed to fall on deaf ears.

  "Of course, of course! Miss de Sol and Miss de Lune—my sun and moon. You two are every bit as radiant as the stars."

  Cringe, dude. I felt my freckled face heat up and wrenched my hand away, wiping it on my sleeve. I shot Lumiere a warning look—but she was staring at her feet and blushing so hard.

  I sighed internally. Hopefully the things I had taught her would stick.

  Once the golden carriage had disappeared over the hill, I returned to my room and found a bnket to wrap myself in.

  I gave myself a moment to take in the sight of Lumiere's now-vacant bed and desk, and felt overcome by a pang of loneliness. The room's emptiness carved a hollow through me. I let the feeling linger and sharpen my thoughts.

  I clutched the bnket tighter, then reached under my desk to retrieve a tattered notebook. Flipping to a page I had carefully marked, I hummed. So far, though the minor details diverged, the overarching sequence of events had followed the game's plot. Good. That meant I had a bead on things.

  But still, I couldn't help but feel a little anxious. I sighed.

  Eight years ago, I had run away from home in order to join this convent, the childhood home of the girl fated to become the Saintess. In no time at all, Lumiere and I became fast friends, and despite her being a year older than me, she graciously received everything I could teach her about beginner and intermediate holy magic. I did everything I could so that she would have the strongest possible start.

  My influence could only go so far, however.

  Rocher, the Hero born from the slums to take up the sword and challenge the Demon Lord, was a convenient fiction. Were it true, I would have sought him out first. I could have imparted everything I knew about being a Hero. Maybe even reined in his coarse behavior a bit.

  In reality, he was royalty, the secret second prince of the kingdom. His social debut had been deyed in order to prevent factional strife—a joint agreement between him and his half-brother, the crown prince. While the threat of the Demon Lord was still hanging over the kingdom, what it needed most was unity. True to his name, the Hero put country over pride.

  Our little act earlier was in accordance to his fa?ade. If his true identity were public, I could never have acted so impudently. It would have meant my head.

  Other members of the party were simirly unreachable.

  The Rogue only ever communicated via underground channels, and only with pre-screened clients through her organization. It was one thing for the Hero to send out feelers for her services. Backed by the crown, as well as the full faith and credit of the royal treasury, he was a VIP among VIPs. As a nun from a convent in the middle of nowhere, I was lower than an ant.

  As for the Mage, all this time she had been locked away in the Tower, a haven for magical prodigies. I had neither the talent nor the connections to get in. The Church did hold a rge degree of influence over day-to-day activity, so I had tried to reach the Tower's chapel early on. Unfortunately, none of my letters ever received a response.

  So it was. Two generational talents waited at the capital. Once the Saintess joined them, the party would be fully assembled and ready to mobilize.

  After a moment's rumination, I dipped my pen and inked a new chapter.

  After supper, it was time to wash up and go to bed.

  I knelt by the bedside and csped my hands together so tight my knuckles turned white. Earnestly, for the first time in a while, I prayed.

  "Oh Goddess. Please hear my wish..."

  I hadn't been the best-behaved of Her children, or the most faithful, but all the same I hoped She would see Lumiere and the Hero's party through.

  This world was no longer just a game. There would be no save states, no reloads. To lose meant death for us all. From here on, fate alone would decide.