Just before Ciril’s thirty-fifth birthday, the head priest of the church of Saint Maya had died. A sudden lung illness felled the senior priest in just a few short weeks, leaving an empty spot in everyone’s heart and at the church's leadership. Ciril held the man’s rites and mourned with everyone, then things resumed to normal while they waited to find out for who would replace them.

The response from the Holy See was both surprising and exhilarating for Ciril. After a week of awaiting a decision he was chosen for the position from among all his brothers in cloth. That in itself was not too unexpected - Ciril was not the most senior but he was liked and his book had earned him passing favor in high places. What did baffle him was that his title would be more than merely a head priest.

The Church’s leadership had decided that the town near their congregation had grown enough over the past years that it warranted a greater appointment. Therefore, Ciril was going to become a bishop! When Rebecca returned to town for his birthday he opened the subject with excitement.

“I have quite the news!” he announced after the greetings

“So do I,” she nodded with a smile. “But you should start.”

“By the wisdom of the Holy See, I am to be a bishop of the Church,” he announced

“Really? That is amazing,” Rebecca seemed quite startled by the announcement. “I thought this church did not have one?”

“Yes, we have just been promoted, or perhaps soon to be,” Ciril nodded. “It has to be Jonathan’s hand. The cardinal who came for my thirty-third if you remember. We have kept correspondence since. I have gone through the letters yesterday. In hindsight, he had been subtly hinting this was a possibility.”

“I am so happy for you,” Rebecca smiled, then paused, the grin turning ever so slightly crooked. “But won’t they… you know?”

“What?” Ciril raised an eyebrow.

“Care about… me?”

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Worry not. The rule is against marriage as a priest should truly dedicated themselves only to the Three. I have gently prodded Jonathan when the topic came up and no one but the strictest purists will care about an infecund personal bond.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“I see,” she paused. “That is certainly a relief. I would hate to drag you down.”

“You never would,” Ciril smiled. “You also had news?"

“Mine seem almost meager in comparison,” she shook her head regaining her composure. “As it happens I am also being promoted.”

“So not just a captain anymore, huh?” Ciril grinned.

“Well, for a while still,” she smiled back. “The next time we meet I shall be Lieutenant Colonel… though it comes with a downside.”

“The responsibility?” Ciril guessed.

“That too, but not what I mind,” she shook her head. “I will be much busier after that. Especially in the nearby future when I need to prove my worth.”

“Don’t worry yourself over me, Rebecca,” Ciril reassured. “I know you care about your career. Go establish yourself and prove to everyone that no one honors the Bastion-Immutable as you do.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, a hint of a smile passing to her lips. “You better properly send me on my way.”

----------------------------------------

The ceremony was wonderful. Half a year after the announcement Jonathan once again came down to town, this time with full official flare as to raise Ciril to the office. And more than just the cardinal had arrived. A gaggle of important people and their tag-alongs were present as well. All in all, Ciril thought he would remember those days for years to come as he sat in his new robes, wearing in the new honors and authority.

His only regret was that Rebecca could not make it.

----------------------------------------

After that Ciril became busier. Months quickly passed as he threw himself into his work with renewed vigor. The Church of Saint Maya had found itself seeing many new guests, seeking rites and ordainment Ciril as a bishop could now provide.

And it was true that their town had grown. The church that had once been a good distance away from it was suddenly at the edge. The way it was looking their downhill clearing may one day be very much within the boundaries.

Ciril felt he was doing more than ever. Helping people on almost daily basis. Guiding lost souls through sermons or more personal speech. Some even arrived to ask him about philosophy, often times scholars and wise men, stirring his pride. The town grew, people prospered. Things were great.

His only real worry remained that Rebecca still refused to reply to any of his letters with anything more than vague reassurance and apologies.