I woke up in a room that felt like it belonged to royalty.
The ceiling above me wasn't just high—it was cathedral high, painted with intricate golden patterns that shimmered faintly in the soft morning light filtering through a massive window to my right. I blinked, unsure if I was still dreaming.
The bed beneath me was so soft, it felt like lying on clouds stuffed with velvet. The sheets smelled of lavender and something faintly sweet I couldn't place. Everything in the room whispered elegance—the marble floors, the silk curtains, the delicate gold trims along the wall.
I sat up slowly.
The memories came rushing back.
The crowd. The light. The wings.
The Blessing.
I touched my chest, half-expecting to feel heat still lingering there, but it was cool now. Calmer. My body didn't feel heavy anymore—it felt... light. Almost unnaturally so. Like something had been lifted from me permanently.
I stood up, bare feet sinking into the lush carpet beneath me, and walked toward the window.
The view stole my breath.
I could see far, far into the distance—snowy peaks on the horizon, verdant forests below, rooftops that gleamed with holy white stone. There were towers and domes, spiraling cathedrals and wide plazas filled with light. And people, hundreds of them just in the courtyard alone, milling like ants across marble floors as sunlight bathed them.
And then I noticed the terrace.
An entire balcony stretched out just beyond the tall window, guarded by intricate rails that curved like vines. I stepped through the open doors and took a deep breath.
Fresh. Crisp. Clean.
The air here smelled divine. No pollution. No exhaust. Just morning dew and the faint scent of flowers carried from gardens below. I leaned against the rail and just took it in for a moment.
'This room alone is probably worth more than my entire life back on Earth.'
That thought hit me harder than I expected.
I turned around and explored more of the room. There was a fireplace—empty, but pristine. Bookshelves. A vanity. A wardrobe so large it could fit another bed. And when I opened the doors of that wardrobe, it didn't disappoint—rows upon rows of robes, tunics, and ceremonial garbs that shimmered with embroidery. Most of them were white, trimmed with gold, and a few even had gemstones sewn into the sleeves.
But what caught my eye most... was the mirror.
It stood tall, near the edge of the wardrobe, framed in silver vines and crystal filigree. I stepped toward it slowly, unsure why my heart was racing.
And then I saw myself.
I froze.
The boy looking back at me wasn't Jake.
Not the old me.
His—my—skin was flawless, smooth and pale with a healthy glow that made it look almost porcelain. Not a blemish, not a trace of dirt remained. My hair, once a dull brown and matted with sweat and forest grime, now radiated soft streaks of warm brown laced with golden strands that shimmered when they caught the light.
But it was the eyes that struck me most.
Bright blue. Like sapphires, but softer—more like glacial lakes under sunlight. Deep, luminous, and oddly... calm.
I reached out and touched the mirror. The reflection did the same.
'Is this really me?'
I turned my face left and right, leaned in to study the small nose, the soft cheeks, the delicate jawline.
Even though I already knew I'd been reincarnated as a child, this was the first time I'd truly seen myself. The first time I faced the fact that I wasn't Jake anymore. Not fully.
Yesha. That was my name now. The Saint.
My fingers curled slowly against the mirror.
It was strange. There was a quiet ache in my chest—like a farewell I didn't get to say. To my old life. My old body. The people I left behind.
But also, deep under that ache... there was awe.
Wonder.
'Who was this boy?' I asked myself. 'And why... me?'
Door opening interrupted my thoughts.
I blinked, pulled away from the mirror, and looked around.
The doors opened.
Three people entered—two attendants and a woman dressed in flowing robes that shimmered faintly with light. The moment they saw me standing and fully awake, their eyes widened. One of the attendants even let out a quiet gasp.
"You're awake—!" the woman exclaimed, then quickly stepped forward, her voice laced with urgent concern. "Please, don't exert yourself. You fainted after... after the oracle."
'Oracle?'
I frowned in confusion, but before I could speak, she bowed deeply—along with the other two.
"We were told that your miracle was seen throughout the Holy Capital... but none expected you to cast such a divine blessing on your first day." She looked up at me with something like awe. "The moment you collapsed, the entire empire was shaken. You've only just awakened, Young Saint. Please, allow us to care for you."
I froze.
So that wave of golden light… the wings… everything I saw before blacking out—it hadn't been a dream.
And they thought it was an oracle?
I glanced down at my hands, then back at the mirror—at the face of a child bathed in sunlight, wearing awe and confusion all at once.
"I… I didn't know," I whispered.
The woman simply smiled, kneeling slightly before me as if my very breath carried weight.
"You are the Saint, Your Holiness. You need not know. The divine acts through you."
I froze.
So that wave of golden light… the wings… everything I saw before blacking out—it hadn't been a dream.
And they thought it was an oracle?
I glanced down at my hands, then back at the mirror—at the face of a child bathed in sunlight, wearing awe and confusion all at once.
"I… I didn't know," I whispered.
One of the attendants stepped forward gently. "We understand, Young Saint. You were unconscious for nearly two days. We took the utmost care in tending to you."
The other nodded with a small smile. "Your body had traces of dirt and dried blood… but no wounds. We carefully cleansed and dressed you. Please forgive the liberty—we only wished to make you comfortable."
The woman in robes approached slowly, her voice soft. "We've remained here since your arrival. We didn't dare leave your side."
They bowed deeply, their reverence more overwhelming now than ever.
I stood silently, trying to grasp everything. I didn't feel like a saint. I didn't feel divine. I just felt like a boy who had died once—and somehow ended up in a world that already worshipped him.