I Didn’t Even Want to Live, But God Forced Me to Reincarnate!

Manasye found himself floating above the ground, alongside Fenrir. Strangely enough, he could sense that this wasn’t reality—they were inside someone’s memories.
More precisely, they were within Eneida’s memories. All they could do was watch, unable to interfere, as her life unfolded before them like a story written long ago.
They witnessed, firsthand, Eneida’s birth and her immediate identification as the saintess.
As was tradition, the saintess had to be taken to the Temple of Life to be raised.
Since it wasn’t easy for elves to have offspring, naturally, Eneida’s parents showed resistance at first.
Whatever conversation they had with the priests of the Temple remained unclear. Manasye and Fenrir could only see the faint outlines of the scene—no voices, no words. Likely because these memories came from when Eneida was still a baby, too young to comprehend spoken language.
Still, one thing they could infer: the priests must have promised her parents something—perhaps blessings, prestige, wealth—something strong enough to convince them to let her go.
Or maybe it was the promise that they would be allowed to visit her often.
The scenery shifted quickly—only scenes that had left a deep impact on Eneida remained vivid.
Her parents visited regularly during her toddler years.
Eneida remembered clearly the feeling of being held in their arms. Her parents accidentally let it slip one day when they were holding Eneida, about their longing for a child they could raise beside them—not like this.
Whether by coincidence or something else, not long after, they had another daughter.
Around that time, Eneida’s role as saintess was formally cemented in a public ceremony.
From then on, everything changed.
Even her own parents had to show reverence toward her.
They could no longer hold her affectionately as before.
“She’s our daughter. Why should we bow to her? We’re her parents! Isn’t it the other way around?”
“A child should show reverence and filial piety toward their parents!”
“Though she was born of the two of you,” a priest responded, “she is the saintess—the reincarnation of our goddess. It is only natural for us, the adults, to show reverence. You should be honored she chose to be born through you. Isn’t that why you were blessed with another child so soon after?”
Little Eneida didn’t understand all of it, but the memory of that overheard conversation never faded.
From that moment on, her parents’ gaze toward her began to shift.
It was no longer warm.
It grew distant. Colder.
She didn’t know why.
Was it the change in temple protocol?
Or was it because her parents now had another daughter—a child they could raise without restriction?
Regardless, her parents stopped visiting as often. And when they did, it felt purely ceremonial.
And Eneida could feel the distance between her and the people around her to increase–especially her family.
Even when the four of them dined together, Eneida sat apart—on a higher seat, facing them from across the table.
That was when she began to fully understand what that childhood eavesdropping had meant.
Even her own parents had to show reverence. They seemed to dislike this rule. And that became one of the reasons why they grew distant.
Though it was not her fault, Eneida felt guilty somehow. Maybe her mind associated that this all happened due to her existence in the first place.
At those meals, all the affection, all the attention, went to her little sister.
Her parents never lovingly fed her, never put her favorite food on her plate.
She doubted they even knew what she liked to eat.
She could only watch as her family shared warm laughter and affectionate gestures—feeding her sister, saving the food she liked, smiling just for her.
And Eneida… chewed her food in silence, her gaze lowered to hide the pain she felt in her heart.
Fortunately, as they grew older, her little sister seemed to be particularly fond of Eneida.
The temple allowed them to play together, believing it would be beneficial for Eneida’s development.
And Eneida was overjoyed.
She understood that the adults were more lenient toward her sister because she was still young—too young to fully grasp the saintess's status.
But even so, her sister wasn’t reserved nor nervous towards her, unlike the other children. There weren't many children around their age to begin with, though.
They played often, and Eneida cherished those moments deeply, wanting it to last forever, wanting it to never change even after her little sister were to grow up.
She was afraid that her sister would grow to be more distant from her as she grew older. But she tried to not dwell on such a thought too much, and just focused on enjoying the moment.
Still, Eneida’s heart ached whenever her parents came only to pick up her sister, leaving Eneida with just a half-hearted, formal greeting.
It felt as if only her sister was her parents’ daughter, and Eneida was a stranger to them.
But every time her sister turned back with a bright smile and waved, calling, “See you again, Big Sis!”—Eneida’s heart felt a little lighter.
Their favorite place to play was a quiet hill near the village.
Few people came there—it was a hill that was too close to the temple, and required passing through a forest. The hill had a beautiful view, and for them, it became a secret haven.
Since Eneida had spent all her life in the temple area, she knew the area like the back of her hand. It was easy to navigate to their secret haven.
They would slip to the same hill to play, just like usual.
It had been raining a lot on those days, perhaps due to the coming of the rainy season.
It was sunny back when they first played, but the weather quickly changed and suddenly, rain poured.
“Let’s go back!” Eneida said as she saw the sky being too dark and cloudy, with the rain getting harsher and there were even thunders.
“Okay!” Her little sister nodded obediently.
But as they turned to run, disaster struck.
“Aaaahhh!!”
A landslide.
The ground beneath her sister collapsed.
“Big Sis!!” she cried, reaching out.
Eneida reached back desperately, but she was too far.
Knowing her sister’s magic wouldn’t be enough, Eneida tried to cast a spell to help.
“Use your magic! I’ll use mine to—!”
But before she could finish, the ground beneath her feet gave way too.
Pain surged through her body. Everything went black for a while.
The injury she sustained seemed to wake her up, albeit faintly. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she could faintly hear how the priests were looking for the two of them frantically.
Eneida forced herself to stay focused as she signaled with her magic that she was there. Luckily, one priest saw this signal, found her, and called out urgently.
Before she lost consciousness again, Eneida turned her head and saw her sister—lying motionless, bleeding from the head.
The bloody scene was too much of a horror to her, and she wanted to stay conscious to help her sister. But alas, her body gave out as she blacked out once more…
***
“Saintess! You’re finally awake! Stay here, I will get the others to examine you–”
“Where is my little sister?! How is she?!”
When she came to, Eneida didn’t bother to think about herself, and she even ignored the pain of her body. The last scene of her sister made her heart race in horror.
“Saintess, you need to rest–”
“Where is my little sister?! Bring me to her! It’s an order!!” Eneida frantically shouted at the priest who was watching her.
Seeing Eneida’s frantic look, the priest swallowed hard and just told Eneida where her little sister was currently being treated.
Without further ado, Eneida darted towards where her little sister was located, despite her body feeling the scorching pain she had never experienced before.
She could actually heal herself easily, but she decided to postpone healing herself–for she wanted to preserve her power to help her little sister, who she presumed to be in a critical condition.
When she barged into the room her sister was being treated in, she saw a horrifying scene unfolding before her.
Her parents were crying hysterically on her sister’s bed, letting a bloodcurling scream. Her sister just breathed her last.
Eneida knew that her power might be useless, but she went to her sister’s side and tried anyway.
But a dead body was like a pot with a gaping hole. Even if she poured all her power, her sister’s dead body was devoid of life. All her life forces just slipped away. It was useless.
Realizing that, Eneida stopped trying. She could only stare at her little sister’s lifeless body, her eyes devoid of life.
“Eneidaestina… Why… aren’t you helping your sister? Why haven’t you healed her?!” Her hysterical mother asked as she grasped Eneida’s shoulders.
Eneida wanted to explain, but she was scared when she looked at her mother’s bloodshot eyes, and more importantly, the hands that her mother used to grasp her shoulders seemed to be exerting way too much power.
“It hurts…,” Eneida wrinkled in pain.
The priest by their side quickly intervened, “Her sister is already dead. Nothing the saintess can do to the dead. She can’t revive the dead.”
Meanwhile, the other priest saw that the situation was getting out of hand, as they quickly left the room to find some help.
“No way, no way!! NO WAYYYY!!” Her mother howled like an animal.
“Mom… You’re crushing me…,” Eneida felt like her mother’s hands could crush her shoulders anytime.
“Why…,” Eneida’s father muttered as he looked at Eneida with a scary gaze–anger and hatred.
“Why didn’t you save her? Why? You wanted her dead, didn’t you?”
“Wha…?”
“Calm down, Mister–,” the priest was worried.
“It must be your doing right? I know you’ve always been jealous of your sister… You’ve been looking at us, looking at her with that kind of gaze whenever we visited…”
“Father, what is–”
“Yes, it’s suspicious how you are alive and well, while your sister is dead! She was right beside you… You… You should’ve taken care of her! Hey, why are you the one still alive? It would have been better if you died in place of your sister!” Her mother howled.
It was at this time that the other priest returned with several other to help.
One of the priests frantically managed to separate Eneida from her parents.
“You’re no saintess! You’re a monster!! You just took your sister’s life! Evil!! I shouldn’t have given birth to you!!” Her mother hysterically screamed.
Tears had stained Eneida’s face–it remained unknown whether she cried due to her emotional pain, or her physical pain, or both.
An elderly priest who happened to be Eneida’s nanny immediately carried Eneida in her arms as she glared at the pair who was supposed to be Eneida’s parents–but they shouted cruel words towards Eneida instead.
“Are you truly the saintess of life? Why is it that your sister dies when she is right next to you? Why?!” Her father asked, demanding explanation.
“I do not–,” Eneida wanted to speak, but her words were quickly cut off.
“She must have been a fake! She is a monster disguised as the saintess! She is not someone who can bless us with life, she is a monster who brings death and disaster! I knew it!” Her mother shouted and pointed at her with eyes full of hatred.
“Madam, Mister, calm down! You’re being too rude in front of the saintess!” One of the priests desperately tried to protect Eneida and her nanny from the mad parents who seemed like they wanted to pull Eneida and unleash their fury on her.
“Think about it, why would our daughter end up dead when she’s right next to her, then? If she is indeed the saintess who blesses with life, it doesn’t make any sense!”
“I should have forbidden her from spending time with you. I should’ve been stricter and refused her pleading. If she had never been by your side, she might still be alive now!”
The priests had to forcefully restrain her parents.
Meanwhile, Eneida was carried away in silence by her priest-nanny, their words ringing in her ears.
The priest-nanny, an older woman with gentle hands but tired eyes, carried Eneida away from the chaos. Her arms were firm but kind, shielding Eneida from the voices that still echoed behind them.
They entered a quiet chamber deep within the temple. Candlelight flickered softly, casting long shadows on the stone walls. The scent of incense filled the air—a futile attempt to mask the raw grief clinging to Eneida’s body.
The nanny laid her down gently on a cushioned bench, brushing damp hair from her face.
“Rest, my lady saintess,” the nanny whispered.
But Eneida didn’t close her eyes. She stared blankly at the flickering flame. Her lips parted, trembling.
“…Why?” she whispered.
The nanny leaned closer. “Why what, child?”
“Why was
the one who died…?” Eneida’s voice trembled. “We were together. She fell… I fell… but now she’s gone, and I…”
Her voice cracked.
“I didn’t even get hurt that badly… I’m still here. Why am
the one who lived?”
She turned her face toward the nanny, eyes wide, searching for something—an answer, a denial, anything.
“If I’m truly the saintess of life… shouldn’t I have been able to save her? I tried—I gave everything. But it wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter.”
She slowly lifted her hands, staring at them, the trembling barely visible but constant.
“What good is this power… if I can’t protect the person I love most?”
A heavy silence filled the space between them. Then her voice fell to a whisper, raw and broken:
“…Maybe what they said was right.”
The nanny’s breath caught. Her hands shot forward, grasping Eneida’s gently, but firmly.
“No. No, don’t say that, my dear,” she whispered urgently. “They were grieving—lost in pain. They didn’t mean those words. They weren’t thinking clearly.”
Eneida didn’t look at her. Her eyes were fixed on her hands.
The nanny squeezed tighter, voice shaking. “You are not a curse. You are not a monster. This was a terrible accident—cruel, unfair, but not your fault. Do you hear me? Not your fault.”
Eneida blinked, slowly. Her eyes glistened, but her expression remained unchanged.
“They said I brought misfortune… that I took her life. That it should’ve been me instead.”
“They were wrong,” the nanny said with more force. “You are the saintess. You’ve brought healing, comfort. The people believe in you because they’ve seen your kindness, your grace. You brought light to this temple.”
Then, softly, Eneida whispered, “…What if all that was just coincidence… or their faith doing the healing, not me? What if I was only ever a symbol—empty, without real power?”
She turned her head slightly, her voice breaking.
“If I truly had the power to give life… my sister would still be here. It doesn’t make any sense how she could have died when I, the Saintess of Life, was right next to her… right?”
The nanny opened her mouth—but no words came. Not because she didn’t want to speak, but because anything she could say would sound hollow against the weight of Eneida’s grief.
Eneida slowly pulled her hands free, curling in on herself.
The candle beside them flickered, its flame dancing like it, too, was uncertain.
The nanny remained beside her, silent, still holding onto the edge of Eneida’s blanket, as if refusing to let go completely.
But Eneida’s gaze had already turned inward—far beyond the room, beyond the warmth of the nanny’s hands.
Somewhere deeper than grief.
Somewhere where doubt had already begun to take root.
“...My lady… You are our long-awaited saintess… The Saintess of Life, Eneidaestina. Please remember that. Always,” The priest-nanny could only whisper the words lovingly into Eneida’s ears before she retreated.
She felt especially tired and heavy. Perhaps this whole tragedy didn’t only exhaust her mentally, but physically as well. Or the adrenaline effect simply had worn off.
She decided to retreat instead of making Eneida worry about her.
After arriving at her own chamber, she collapsed from fatigue, her body felt inexplicably heavy.
***
Later, alone in a temple room, Eneida sat silently in the dark. Her hand reached toward a vase of flowers beside her—wilted.
She hadn’t touched them.
She looked at her hands.
At that moment, something inside Eneida began to change.
But no one noticed. Not even her.
Manasye and Fenrir could only watch with the mix of horror and realization.