Crimson sunlight poured through the room like divine judgement.
Sid walked through the empty expanse of the Cathedral, following one of the Elders while the others trailed behind her. In this sacred hall, no one but the Elders and Saint were supposed to enter.
Which could only mean one thing.
She was the new Saint.
The Elder in front of Sid sighed, his shoulders slumping as if in a practiced cadence.
"Shame, another bright star of the Church, snuffed by his greed and ineptitude."
The replacing of Saints had happened time and time throughout history, the guarantee of a lavish life lulling them into a false sense of security, eventually becoming abandoned by the Balance altogether.
However, this one was different. It felt different.
Yes, Virt was a playful young boy, but he was also more devoted than anyone else Sid knew. Since she saved him five years ago, Sid had overlooked that rascal, and he no doubt would never stray off the Path of Virtue. After all, he himself spent countless months refining his healing, researching the divine texts.
Most of all, Virt was simply just…Virt.
During the Seasplits, it was Virt who rallied the Priests and civilians, leading no casualties despite the excruciating damage. His hands–oh his hands–even from afar, Sid could see them bleeding, peeling off his flesh.
And yet, it was he who secured the evacuation routes.
The ocean split apart, slamming into the village like a mass of stone.
Still, it was Virt who remained unmoving, stretching his Zone from East to West, heralding forth a wall of tangible light, protecting the thousands of people behind him.
Even then, he–who was the most exhausted and battered–continued towards the villagers, their wounds closing under a glowing green, their blood rolling back into their bodies, as if appalled at the fact it was separated from its brethren flowing through their veins.
Just yesterday, Sid witnessed Virt throw caution to the wind, braving the immolating heat of the Fire God, bending his Light into a sphere–something that shouldn't have been possible–and even taking some of the scorching molten rock to his back, all to protect one boy. That child's wounds had also disappeared before Sid could even register what had happened in that fraction of a second.
Saint Virt was what everyone called him, not because of his title, but because of his character.
Because although the Saint had the power to answer prayers, they also had to carry the burden of relief.
The burden of a thousand miracles.
Every wound healed, every plague cured, every grief alleviated.
They were not magically snapped out of existence.
They were simply transferred onto him.
Sid always regretted the look on Virt's porcelain face when he healed. Everyone knew the blinding pain underneath, yet all he ever showed was his usual mischief and wide grin, sometimes cracking a cold joke or two. She had pledged her undying loyalty to the Church after all, even if their Saint was doing his job, it still felt horribly wrong seeing another human in pain, helpless to do anything about it.
Perhaps that was why Virt was such a good Saint, he probably felt that emotion Sid felt tenfold, while also wielding all the power in the world to stop it.
This eventually led Sid to a singular, burning question.
"Why did the Balance choose me?"
The frail old man in front of her remained unturned, his gaze unwilling to meet hers.
"We do not know, we merely translate its signs, not interpret it."
Walking deeper into the Cathedral, the four approached an oval room, in the middle lay a purple rug, its edges designed with spiraling patterns and adorned with a golden fringe. In front of it lay a lone wooden table, on it, a candle stick and an opaque box, painted in obsidian black.
Following the instructions of the Elders, Sid lowered herself onto the carpet and assumed a praying position, facing the box. It emanated an aura of domineering cold, its sharp edges seemingly capable of piercing even the sharpest of armours. Unlike the carpet, it had no intricate spiral pattern, or even any adornments and decoration.
It simply…was.
Closing her eyes, Sid blanked out everything, assuming a meditative state.
The smell of incense was suffocating, as if unnatural. Her palms felt warm, and eventually, sweat had started to accumulate. How long had it been? An hour? Maybe two?
Hours stretched into days, the chanting of the Elders getting more and more jumbled and distorted, almost…no, Sid could not bear to say that about her venerable Elders.
When could she stop praying? When the Balance spoke? When the Elders awoke her? Sid did not know.
All Sid knew was that the Balance did not speak to her.
The scriptures told of whispers of the Balance, the prayers of a distant song. And in spite of all her knowledge, all her techniques,
The Balance did not acknowledge her.
Or at least, she thought.
After what seemed like eternity, she felt a tap on her shoulder, zapping her back to reality.
"Congratulations, Priestess Sid"
The Elder stopped, pausing to look up for a slight while, before looking back at Sid with a gleaming smile.
"or should I call you Saint Sid now?"
Sid herself did not feel anything within her change, nor did she hear of the rumoured whispers of the Balance, nonetheless, the Elders told her she was now a Saint, and so she was.
She smiled back, her dimples showing very obviously in the still bright light of the room.
It had not been days, it had not been hours, but only a few minutes.
And so, the Elders left, leaving Sid behind, beads of sweat rolling profusely from her temples, in the silence of the deafening room alone, plumes of blue surrounding her.
'So the rumours about hearing prayers were false, interesting…I should update the holy scripture soon.'
The box upon the table stood, overlooking the young maiden.
To the naked eye, it would have seemed like a trail of blue lingered from it to Sid, gracing her with its ever present glow.
To Virt, however, it led straight to his soul.