The day had finally come, and the preparations were nearing completion. The air inside the God of Life's grand temple was charged with anticipation, a sense of magic thick enough to taste. It was the moment everyone had been waiting for—the ceremony that would crown Isabella as the Chosen One, the Saint who would heal the world. The gods themselves had gathered, and every eye was trained on the center of the temple, where the ceremony would take place.
But before the ritual could begin, all eyes fell upon her. Isabella stood at the center of the room, surrounded by an aura of divine energy. Her presence seemed to command the room, the bright light cascading off her like an ethereal halo. But what truly stole the breath from everyone present—the gods, Caius, even Anna who had been forced to attend—was the dress.
It was a creation that seemed to belong more to the heavens than to the earth. The gown was made of a delicate fabric that shimmered like liquid starlight, a fabric that reflected every angle of light and gave the illusion of stars twinkling across a midnight sky. The very texture of the dress seemed to shift and ripple as though the fabric itself was alive, a tribute to the sacred power imbued within it.
The color of the dress was a pristine, radiant white, like untouched snow under the first light of dawn, yet there were hints of pale silver and faint gold woven throughout. The hem, embroidered with intricate symbols of the gods, seemed to pulse softly with a magic all its own. It was as if the gown was not just clothing, but a manifestation of divine will itself, an extension of Isabella's sacred role as the Chosen One.
The bodice, corseted and fitted to perfection, was embellished with delicate threads of gold that shimmered and glowed with an inner warmth. Tiny crystals—diamonds, sapphires, and opals—were sewn into the fabric in patterns of celestial constellations, reflecting the light in brilliant flashes. Each gemstone symbolized a different power, a different god, a different force that Isabella would now embody. The dress felt as though it had been crafted by the gods themselves, each stitch infused with their blessings.
The sleeves of the gown were long and flowing, sheer fabric billowing around her arms like a soft mist, fading into an ethereal translucence. The fabric seemed to float as she moved, shifting gently with each step, as though it was weightless—much like Isabella herself. Around her neck, a delicate silver chain rested, from which hung a pendant in the shape of a perfect tear-shaped sapphire. The sapphire glistened with a deep, mesmerizing glow, said to represent the tears of the gods, given only to the most pure and devoted.
As Isabella stood before the gods and her family, her beauty was unparalleled. It wasn't just her outward appearance that made her shine—it was the radiant glow of power, compassion, and purpose that seemed to flow from her very being, as if she were the embodiment of all that was good in the world.
But it was the contrast between her and Anna that made the gown's effect even more stark. Isabella stood with her head held high, the light from the high windows falling perfectly around her, creating a glow that seemed to make her whole form shimmer with divinity. The gods beamed at her with pride, exchanging quiet words of praise in hushed voices. Their eyes followed her every movement, their adoration so evident it was almost tangible.
Anna, by contrast, stood at the very back of the room, her shoulders hunched, a sharp ache in her chest as she tried to avoid the gaze of those around her. Her own clothes, tattered and threadbare, seemed to only highlight the disparity between her and her twin. As her eyes lingered on Isabella, she couldn't help but feel the sharp sting of jealousy—though she could never, ever let it show. Isabella deserved all of this. She deserved the dress. She deserved the gods' adoration.
But still, the cruel contrast burned through Anna like a knife. The overwhelming beauty of the dress, the divine light that encircled her twin—Isabella was everything that Anna would never be. A warmth, almost unbearable in its intensity, spread through Anna's chest. The jealousy felt like fire, but she had to hide it. She had to remain as invisible as always, unnoticed, because even a flicker of resentment would be seen as a sin. She would be punished. She always was.
The gods spoke softly among themselves, their voices low but heavy with reverence. "She's truly perfect, isn't she?" one murmured. Another nodded, their voice tinged with awe. "A reflection of the divine, a living symbol of healing and life."
Caius, standing beside the group of gods, couldn't take his eyes off Isabella. His gaze was filled with admiration, pride, and a fierce protectiveness. He had promised himself that he would protect her, and now more than ever, he felt it was his duty to keep her safe. He could feel the weight of the gods' expectations pressing down on him, but it didn't matter. Isabella was the one who deserved all the love, all the adoration, all the light in the world.
Anna's heart twisted in her chest as she watched the scene unfold. She stood unnoticed, like a shadow in the corner of the room, her face hidden in the folds of her hair. The air seemed to grow colder around her as she tried to hold back her tears. She wasn't allowed to feel. She wasn't allowed to want. She wasn't allowed to be anything but a forgotten, cursed presence that barely existed in the grand scheme of things.
Isabella stood at the center, a queen in her own right, while Anna was left to watch in the background. And as the ceremony continued to unfold before her, Anna's heart broke silently, the weight of isolation and despair pressing down on her.
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The world around Anna was a blur of voices, of movement, of life that she wasn't part of. As she walked through the grand halls of the God of Life's kingdom, she could hear the distant laughter of the gods and the chatter of Isabella, her twin, surrounded by adoring gods and Caius. The hallways felt long, endless, each step she took echoing through the silence that surrounded her. Every corner she turned, every door she passed, was full of life and warmth. And yet, she was alone.
Anna's clothes were nothing compared to Isabella's. Where Isabella was adorned in radiant fabrics, rich silks, and divine gems, Anna was clothed in nothing more than tattered remnants of what had once been fabric—a far cry from the ceremonial splendor surrounding her twin. No one cared to offer her anything. No one looked her way. She was nothing but an invisible shadow, walking through a world that rejected her with every breath she took.
She couldn't even speak. The rules of this place were clear. She was not meant to be seen, not meant to be heard. Her very existence was a mistake in their eyes, and her only purpose here was to stand as a silent witness to Isabella's greatness. Her twin was the saint. Her twin was the one who healed the world.
Anna's heart twisted painfully as she watched Isabella laugh, her voice light and pure like a song sung by angels. Caius stood beside her, the two of them radiating such a perfect bond that Anna couldn't help but feel the ache of loneliness gnaw at her. They were everything. And she was nothing.
The gods all gathered around, murmuring their praises. Their voices echoed in Anna's mind, each word about Isabella ringing like a hammer against her heart.
"She's perfect, isn't she?"
"A true miracle. Our savior."
"The Chosen One. The one who will heal the world."
Each word only deepened the feeling of isolation that crushed Anna's chest. She knew she was nothing in this world, but hearing their praises for Isabella—the warmth of their smiles directed only at her twin—made the coldness around Anna feel unbearable.
She couldn't speak. She couldn't ask for their attention. She couldn't demand to be seen. Every part of her was numb, but the pain inside her heart was raw and relentless. She had spent her life trying to be invisible, trying to blend into the shadows where no one would notice her, but now, in this kingdom of gods, she couldn't even manage that.
And as the day of the ceremony neared, the gap between her and Isabella widened further.