Chapter 54: Sarah's Ethereal Saint Blessings
Gently and overwhelmingly, the radiance enveloped Sarah as she knelt before the altar of the ruined temple of the Ethereal Veil Clan. The remnants of sacred pillars surrounded her-structures once proud in their grandeur but worn and crumbling with age now. Vines had begun reclaiming the land, weaving through cracks like nature's quiet defiance against time. Still, despite the ruins, there was an undeniable godliness in the air, as if some quintessence of an ancient power yet hovered over this holy ground.
Muted whispers, as soft as the choir of souls forgotten, ran across the temple. Indistinct, but oh so recognizable, the words spoke directly to the heart, not to the ears. As if the voices of the past-saints, warriors, and healers long dead-gave her direction toward something that was beyond human comprehension.
She breathed slowly, her chest in time with the subtle pulse of the temple, alive in its way, connected with divine forces that ruled existence itself. And Sarah, kneeling before the altar, felt herself drawn deeper into its embrace.
A current of warmth spread through her veins, a sensation quite different from anything she had ever known, pure, unadulterated, and unsullied by the world's corruption. It was a power not her own, yet all hers.
And then, the metamorphosis started.
The Awakening
A silver glow enveloped her body, tugging her upward into the air. The air around her went still, as if the world itself was holding its breath in reverence.
Her features became delicately sharp; her beauty burst beyond mortal bindings. Her tresses of silver-white hair poured in shimmering waves down her back, and each strand carried an ethereal glow that was captured by the dim light falling in the temple ruins. Her skin turned perfect, almost luminous, kissed by the heavens themselves.
But it was not just her appearance that changed.
Her aura swelled, enormous and soft, unreachable and beckoning. Even the air around her moved, disallowing impurities to touch her. It was not the stifling weight of power that demanded homage; it was a silent, absolute force that called for reverence.
The temperature around her cooled, yet Sarah felt nothing but warmth. Her heartbeat slowed down, steady, unshakeable, moving to the rhythm of the divine.
She opened her eyes.
In that instant, her irises turned into pools of quicksilver, shining with an essence no longer reflecting light, but giving it. A wisdom beyond earthly years settled in her gaze, as if she had somehow inherited the collective wisdom of all saints before her.
Sarah had awakened to the Ethereal Saint Blessings.
It all clicked in that one flash of comprehension.
"This power… so utterly unlike anything I have ever experienced."
Her voice held resonance it never had before, no longer just a part of herself.
Her hands shook, then steadied as clarity filled her mind. She was no longer just a healer. She was no longer just a girl walking a path set before her by fate.
She was a saint.
A guardian chosen to ward over the path of the divine.
The Power of the Ethereal Saint
She raised her hand, and the energy within her stirred. The silver light that had surrounded her danced and concentrated at her fingertips.
She focused, thrusting her will outward.
The ruined temple shimmered, its ancient glory blazing for an instant-walls intact, pillars towering, the ceiling no longer broken. And for a heartbeat, the weight of history lay upon the space, thick with what had been.
Yet in a flash, it was gone. The temple receded back to its broken form, its remains whispering with the secrets that would never again be undone.
Sarah's chest constricted.
"I can feel it… the power of restoration. The will of the ancient saints courses through me."
She clenched her fist and set her stance steady.
This was no gift.
It was an obligation.
And then, as if the world itself was responding to her awakening, a divine crest appeared on her forehead: an intricate symbol of light and eternity glowing softly like a celestial brand. It marked her as something more than mortal, something beyond ordinary existence.
For the first time, Sarah truly understood.
"I will no longer be just a support." Her voice was firm, steady. "I will be the beacon of hope, the force that stands between life and death, between salvation and ruin."
A soft smile played upon her lips, but within that expression lay a strength anew-a strength which could shape fate itself.
But then, as she cast her gaze downward, another thing caught her sight.
A Change Beyond Power
In front of her was a pool of water, in which the image of a woman she hardly knew stared back at her.
She had changed.
Her body was transformed into this body that epitomized divinity. More curves, with a stance as regal, as if this very being emanated from something beyond the clouds. Therein lay a strange beauty about her, almost. not human.
She no longer looked like that shy, quiet girl she had been.
She had become something more.
Something holy.
And with that realization came another.
"I… am no longer worthy of Joyner."
The thought came unbidden, but once it settled in her mind, it refused to leave.
A pang of sorrow filled her chest.
Joyner-the man she had once admired from afar, the one she had dreamed of standing beside-was still human. Still ordinary in comparison to what she had become.
Would he still look at her the same?
Would he still look at a girl he once knew, or would he see only the saint she had become?
Would he still want someone who had become something so… unnatural?
Her power had given her everything—strong and beautiful, wise.
At what cost?
A single tear slipped down her cheek to shine like liquid silver in the bright moonlight.
"I have changed," she whispered, and it was a depth in her soul where the weight of her transformation had finally settled in. "But has the world changed with me?"
And deep inside, she knew.
Her path had irreversibly splintered from on which she once had walked.
This was her fate.
The fate of the Ethereal Saint.
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Beyond the Awakening
The silent temple closed in on her, it seemed, with unseen eyes: the spirits of the Ethereal Veil Clan, the lingering remnants of divine will, all watching.
Judging.
Guiding.
But with this new power came a hollowness in her she couldn't explain.
A saint's path was not of mundane happiness.
It was a path of sacrifice.
Would she still be free to laugh as she used to? To feel that there was still simple pleasure?
Or had she passed beyond all that now?
She reached out a hand to her own reflection resting in the pool, rippling the surface so that her celestial form became distorted.
Her heart was heavy.
She thought of Joyner again.
Would he smile at her still?
Would she even have the bravery to meet his gaze now?
A part of her was afraid of the answer.
Deep down, she knew.
Some things could never be as they once had been.
Her power was absolute.
Her fate had been rewritten.
And now, she could only walk forward—alone, if she had to.
The Ethereal Saint had awakened.
And the world would never be the same again.
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End of Chapter 54.
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