I Became The Pope, Now What?

Chapter 143 143. The Son

Sylvester had never expected someone would do such a thing for his birthday, so he was taken aback by the crowd shouting and cheering for him. He was used to people screaming for his death, not this.

"Of course, dear. I'm your mother; how can I be wrong?" Xavia came forward.

'Ah! Wait... I mistook my birthday in this world with the past one.' He quickly realized the mistake in his mind.

He looked around and noticed that the Bright mothers from the whole building had come there to celebrate with him. From the oldest to the youngest, even the Great Mother Grace was there.

"Thank you, everyone. I was not expecting such a thing, honestly." He didn't know what to feel about this. At least he could sense their excitement and motherly love for him, as he had always helped many of the Bright Mothers since he was a kid. These women, at least most, were not wizards or knights. They were just simple humans, so physical tasks that were normal for Sylvester were impossible for them.

One after another, older Bright mothers came to him and kissed him on the cheek and patted his head, blessing him with long life and strength. Some also had gifts, but nothing expensive as they were not wealthy nobles. Most gave something edible or some sort of medical potion.

The only expensive gift was from the tall, strong, Great Mother Grace, the head of all Bright Mothers. She was extremely old and still somehow looked middle-aged. She was a rich woman and gave Sylvester a nice little ring after saying. "When the spark of your light is about to diminish, this shall shine bright as a beacon of hope."

Sylvester, however, while seeing her face, could only remember the scene he saw years ago, the night the scissors met. This was the ringleader, after all.

"Thank you, Great Mother. I will cherish this gift." He took the ring with care but not so foolishly as he wondered if there was something in it that could track him.

But he didn't have time to research it as there were hundreds of Bright Mothers greeting him and kissing his cheek, which by now had turned red from all the lipstick marks. Most of them were from old ladies, though.

"Umm..."

However, to his surprise, at the end came a young girl, about the same age as him, looking all nervous. She timidly reached him and extended the book in her hands. "I... I am a Bright Mother trainee... Anya Moller. I just arrived here and... I heard a lot about you, Lord Bard. I want to give you this book."

Sylvester looked at the book and read its name on the first page. "The Grand Sacrifice? The book is about the Ninth Pope, who gave his life to defeat the strongest demon ever recorded."

She quickly nodded. "Yes! I read about him, and it inspires me so much... he gave away his life, along with the guardians, to protect the world from evil. I often wonder what was in his mind when it happened. Was he scared? Angry? Or nothing?"

Sylvester looked at the girl strangely. She appeared smarter than your average commoner Bright Mother trainee. But, on top of that, the scent of her emotions told a story of fear for some reason. "How did you end up here? Aren't you too young to be a Bright Mother?"

Sylvester, who was emotionally dead to feel any romance or attraction to most women, sized her up from head to toe. She was about five foot six, had reddish-blonde hair, and a pale face with some light acne. She had deep blue eyes and was petite in stature.

She nodded and looked down as she replied in a rather apologetic tone. "I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you... I never had someone my age to talk with these past few weeks. I used to be the daughter of a Viscount in the Sorrow Kingdom... but now that everything's gone and my family is dead, this is the only home I have."

Sylvester didn't ask her to elaborate on her story anymore, as he could guess most of it. But he patted her shoulder and spoke in a little rhyme. "What happened was painful, and the pain will never go away. But to respect the dead, the least we can do is not let our minds decay--for those who search for it, there is always a way."

She nodded and forced a kind smile on her face. "Thank you, Lord Bard... you really are as different as they say... I really hope someday you become the Pope."

Sylvester took out an emergency cookie from his robe pocket and gave it to her. "Just call me Sylvester, and those two blokes you see behind are Felix and Gabriel. Also, you are very young. You don't have to force yourself to be a Bright Mother. Take your time in studies, and meet people--if you fall in love and wish not to take the vows of Deus Servus, I will support you."

Just then, Great Mother Grace approached them and repeated what Sylvester said. "He is right, dear. Not all women in the world can become Bright Mothers, or else who will birth the future warriors, future faithfuls... even future Popes?"

Anya bowed her head quickly and thanked before running away in freight. She was scared of authority, it appeared.

"Do you like her?" The Great Mother asked Sylvester all of a sudden.

Sylvester shrugged and looked at the book in hand. "Yes, but not in the manner you think, Great Mother. I just like smart people... and she certainly is smart."

"Max! Eat this cake! This is great!" Felix shouted from a distance all of a sudden.

The Great Mother scowled at Felix's behavior and snarkily added. "Smart people? A wise fondness to have... but you're certainly not very good at finding them, I must say."

Sylvester chuckled, knowing she was taking a jibe at Felix. He also decided to go and join his friends and eat. "Felix? Well, I suppose he's something more than most of us."

"What may it be?" She questioned.

"He is--alive."

He hurried to eat the cake Xavia had made for him. It appeared ordinary with just some milk cream on it and soft sweetened bread with honey. There were also a few fruit pieces on it that were a delight to eat.

"Thank you, mum." He made sure to show her his gratitude. He knew he was too old for these celebrations, but even he felt they were great relaxing events.

Xavia hugged him tight and started crying. "My Max! You're now seventeen... you're growing so fast! Your fat cheeks are gone now and... and you look so handsome! Girls must go crazy for you."

He chuckled and replied. "But what's the point? I must stick to my vows."

She cried stronger. "I know! And that's why I wonder what my grandkids would have looked... pretty little angels, I reckon."

He patted her head and made her sit down. Then he also sat cross-legged while telling Gabriel to bring his violin from his room.

"Bright Mothers!" He addressed all the women as they started to sit down too.

Soon, a circle was made around Sylvester, with Xavia, Felix, Gabriel, Great Mother, and Anya sitting closest to him. Miraj was not close, however, as he finally had a chance to eat cake since no one looked at it.

"Bright Mothers... or should I just say, mothers." Sylvester decided to show some appreciation and win their hearts emotionally. This way, if and when the time comes, they'd choose him over anyone.

"I came here when I was merely four months old. Small and curious, I roamed around. Yet all of you cared for me like I was yours. Outside on my journeys, I have seen the worst humanity has to offer... son killing parents, mother killing son. But out of all mothers in the world, you all are the true mothers--bright mothers--who care for all, blood or not. Someday, I will become something in this church, if not the Pope, then something else, but no matter what--I wish for you all to remain my mothers. I hope you all keep spoiling me and depending on me."

Sylvester saw a lot of smiles and even some tears on these women's faces. He could understand where it was coming from. All of them were alone with no family of their own. Only a few women voluntarily became Bright Mothers, while most became one due to circumstances--to survive.

So, seeing Sylvester being so kind and familial to them warmed their hearts.

"So, I shall sing a hymn dedicated to you all." He announced and prepared. He hoped that his halo and voice were bound to earn many fanatical believers today. But at the same time, he truly wished to be kind to them, at least.

As he started playing the violin, the Bright Mothers became attentive. Then, when the halo appeared behind his head, the Bright Mothers began praying silently.

♫Just a little bird out here in the harsh world.

I grew, somehow, despite the fate so swirled.

To see another day, there was no guarantee.

At times, the world seemed so against me.

Believe me, O' Solis, I am your devotee.♫

♫My wings were cut, in wars and violence so meaningless.

The hearts stopped--my loved ones lay lifeless.

Why? I just wanted to fly. Why? I can only cry.

Is it my fault? The dark world I couldn't foresee.

Believe me, O' Solis, I am your devotee.♫

As Sylvester stopped verbally singing and just played the violin on a low pitch, he looked around and noticed a lot of tearful faces and sniffling. Xavia, Anya, or even the Great Mother appeared to be crying uncontrollably.

Even Gabriel couldn't help but wipe out his wet eyes while Felix stayed seated silently, looking at the sky.

All the Bright mothers resonated with the song, as they were little birds who just wanted to fly. But then some tragedy struck, and here they sit and--cry. Each one of them had some trauma that pushed them into this life; each had lost someone dear to them they couldn't forget. Each one of them had a silent harsh journey that no one knew.

'If I must gather followers, then why not from here itself?' Sylvester thought as he prepared to sing the last passage of his hymn.

♫The featherless bird embarked on a journey.

Through bloodied lands--There was none to hear me.

My feet bled, rain on my head--But I refused to drop dead.

Solis kept me alive--His warmth I wished to spread.

Help those like me who cry and live in utter dread.♫

♫I hope all those saddened hearts will find me.

Believe me, O' Solis, I am your devotee!

O' Solis, I shall forever be your devotee!♫

Sylvester stopped singing and played the violin for a few seconds before slowly ending it all and letting the silence take over. But it didn't last as all the Bright Mothers realized they were crying.

But just then, one old Bright Mother, possibly the most senior among all, got up and wiped her eyes clean. Then she walked to Sylvester and leaned down to kiss his forehead. She looked into his golden eyes as she stood straight back. "Lord Bard, it was your birthday, yet we are the ones who received the gift. I was merely a poor village girl when the fire took over our little home. My father ran into the fire to protect us; only I survived. Your... Your hymns remind me of my father."

As she left, another Bright Mother came and did the same, her tearful eyes still appearing uncontrollable. "You are so... If my son was alive, he'd be as big as you. Unfortunately, I couldn't protect him from brigands, but... if Solis can, I hope he gives my remaining life to you."

Sylvester just sat there astonished, having underestimated the effects of his voice, light, and music. It had undoubtedly moved their hearts, and now they moved his hearts--as each wished him nothing but good.

'All these Bright Mothers are so protected by the faith, yet no one is there to hear them--their cries.' He thought.

"Lord Bard!"

Then something happened that he didn't expect. Great Mother Grace, formerly known as Lady Grace, one of the five heroes of the thousand-year war, came to him and kissed his forehead. Then she patted his shoulder. "All Bright Mothers here are humans, and people seem to forget that sometimes. They see us as mere pure preachers without any wishes or needs. They forget that we've all led harsh lives, and had our own battles... some physical and some within. Yet only you today brought all those emotions out.

"I don't know what the future holds for you, young bard, but I hope it's the very best because it would truly pain me--all of us--to see our son suffer."

She caressed his hair and left silently, yet spoke a thousand words unknowingly.

Sylvester just sat there in amazement as he realized that he had won the support of a highly senior member of the faith just now--a person who sees him as her son now.

'This is it? All one needed to win over these sad women was someone to hear them out?' He was in disbelief.

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APE TOGETHER STRONG!