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Tarquin took a breath at the door, the cooler air of morning at his back. Since the defeat of the Evanuris, there had been enough change in the ranks that there was a lot more gold on Tarquin's armor now. It got him in the door of the chantry and through the thickest parts of the crowd to a seat where he could be seen from the pulpit.
Candles lined the railings, clustered beneath the statues, crowded into nooks, and balanced on candelabras. The sheer volume banished every shadow and bathed the Sanctuary in the soft warmth of golden light.
Typically, a choir would already be singing atmospheric melodies to set the stage. Today, only a high, bright bell sounded to begin the service and Tarquin could feel magic rising as the morning sun dimmed until only the candles at the front gave light to the vast chapel.
Then Imperial Divine Aequitas approached from the hidden entrance and Tarquin felt the sight like a punch to the gut. A general murmur spread, recognition and respect, but Tarquin was still, silent, frozen in shocked realization as everything he'd almost lost hit him. His tears fell long before the service was concluded.