Once the light stopped, Gerhold and Celaina were the first to rise. They had devoted themselves to the Devine, and the experience had been more refreshing and renewing than taxing. If it had gone on for too long, they might have felt crushed beneath the weight of the power, but it had stopped long before that. Instead, they rose fresh and ready for combat, their wounds and fatigue a thing of the past.

The supplicant warriors had a different experience. Even if the light had not harmed them, neither had it healed them, not that they had many wounds to heal. Those the knights had already defeated still moaned on the ground, a reminder of what the paladins could do even when outnumbered. Those that stood – half of their original number – no longer had any advantage against the older couple. After confirming their enemies were no longer injured, they realized this wasn’t their day and that the light had not come from their master. They fled back down the hill toward the temple.

Gerhold and Celaina hugged each other, overcome with emotion they couldn’t explain. They instinctively knew that they had won, not just this minor skirmish, but something on a grander scale. They slowly picked their way through the snow, finding a path to bring them back to the front of the peak they were on, so they were once again looking down into the valley before the temple entrance.

Those who had been gathered on the ledge outside the building had stayed to see the light show. Some had gotten to their knees, while others clutched their hands under their chins, uncertain if they should pray for mercy or in celebration. That question was answered quickly as an angelic figure emerged from the paladin's mountain, shining with a white light brighter than the sun. Sera passed through a cliff wall fifty feet below the couple and quickly rose a hundred feet above them. Gerhold clutched at his wife, hardly believing his eyes. “I knew she had a special relationship with the Savior,” he said under his breath.

“Of course you did,” Celaina mocked, though she was too happy to really give him grief.

Sera took the time to smile at the paladins but had more pressing matters. Calling on her powers of fire, water, and air, she instantly evaporated half of the snow on their mountain, the white heaps disappearing into the air as if they had never been there. This revealed dozens of men and a few women who had been buried only a few minutes ago. Some were still alive, though others had been crushed or suffocated, but had been preserved in the cold and woke as if from a bad dream.

Turning back to the paladins, Sera levitated lower, so she could look them in the eyes, some fifty feet away. Both knights were on their knees instantly, bowing their heads to the Savior they had long prayed for. The young woman waved a hand over them and granted them the reward for their faithfulness. Though their appearances did not change, their aged bodies did. Gone was any hint of stiffness or disability. They felt as spry as they had when they first took their oaths over thirty years ago. Their minds and hearts were also cleansed, so when they looked up to regard the changes that had come over each other, a deep sadness filled their eyes as they realized the selfish ways they had interacted.

“Be good to each other,” Sera said unnecessarily, but it prompted the knights to share heartfelt apologies and embrace each other.

Turning from the happy couple, Sera regarded those fighters she had just rescued. Some were on their knees, giving honor to the Savior, while others looked on in contempt at the imposter who had stolen this right from their master. These stubborn supplicants reacted hostilely toward the apparent traitors in their midst, but before they could bring their weapons to bear, Sera swept them aside. Each of the unrepentant supplicants took to the air before they could level any attack on their former companions, often screaming in terror, but their flight was as gentle as Sera could make it.

The flying supplicants lost their weapons in transit as Sera tapped into her earthly powers and made their iron blades infinitely heavy. The swords and axes fell into the valley below, disappearing into the piles of snow that Sera had not dealt with. Their trip was short, and soon they were deposited on the ledge in front of the temple. Some had come to grips with their situation and had a change of faith, falling to their knees as soon as their feet touched the ledge.

But Sera dealt with those still on the mountain range, renewing them in mind and heart so that what had at first been blind allegiance swiftly became sincere. When she did turn to the temple and float down to look at the gathering, very few knelt before her. Quarton stood at the front of the crowd, having recovered from the blow Persephone had given him, and was scowling at his former prisoner, unwilling to humble himself before her. Sera didn’t flinch as she hovered down to his ledge and stepped onto the cold stone.

“What is this trickery?” he said. “What have you done with the Supplanter?”

“I did not touch him,” Sera said. “He is dead, but I did not kill him. Prince Dantell double-crossed him, and I dealt with the prince.”

“You killed the heir to the throne?” a cry came from one of the Tallashite men in the group who stood close behind Quarton. “Do you mean to rule over us now? You, some glorified islander?” He spat as he said this, and several other men and women echoed his sentiment. Some who had been kneeling got up.

“I will rule anyone who chooses to follow me. I will not take your free will from you.”

“You will take nothing from us,” Quarton said and charged Sera with his sword drawn. Sera didn’t move a muscle as he came on, and the much bigger man didn’t slow his charge in the face of the indifference. His sword came in hard from his right, but an instant before it would have cleaved the young woman in two, it simply disappeared in a mist of iron molecules that were so fine a puff of wind scattered them into the air. The big fighter was totally off balance as his empty hilt swung in front of the woman in white, and he stumbled into her. It was like running into a brick wall as Sera didn’t so much as rock backward, and Quarton was thrown to the ground, bouncing over ten feet from the woman back along the path of his charge.

He lay stunned, splotches of light exploding before his eyes as he wrestled with a concussion. Others behind him took up the charge, but Sera lifted her hand. “No.” They all flew backward as individual jets of air hit each one of them in the chest. The defense was so particular that those stationary and kneeling around them didn’t feel so much as a breeze but watched the attackers bounce around as if caught in a tornado. Sera made sure none of them were hurt, but none of them were quick to get up either.

“I will not force you to kneel,” Sera said, “but if you wish to rebel, I would ask you to leave.” She pointed to the edge of the clearing before the temple and a wide recessed stairway instantly formed in the stone. “This path will lead you back to the Talla side of the mountain range. You may go about your lives as you wish. I will not interfere.”

Quarton picked himself off the ground slowly, tossing aside his useless hilt and still shaking the cobwebs from his head. “You are asking for war,” he grunted.

“I am asking for peace,” Sera said, though she knew there would be a war. Many wars and across many continents for many years to come. Some would never be willing to accept Divine restoration. That was their choice, and they would sentence many to death because of it. “You are asking for war,” she clarified. “When we meet in battle, please remember that.”

Quarton grunted, not enjoying the threat but also understanding he was in no position to argue against her. Sera smiled at him and raised her arm to point at the stairway. “Please leave so I might attend to the wounded who wish to be healed.”

The enforcer stood there for several more seconds, looking like he might still attack, but he didn’t. Gathering over three-fourths of the remaining crowd, he led them off the ledge and down the stairs. Once they were gone, she moved between the kneeling faithful and then into the temple to tend to others who might need assistance.

About two hours later, Sera stood again on the ledge before the temple entrance, but this time before a very different group of people. Many more of the supplicant women who had lived in the temple had left, though a few had stayed and were renewed. Some of these former supplicants were outside now, wanting to hear the parting words of their Savior. However, others were still too ashamed of their lives and busied themselves within the building, tearing down all references to the Supplanter. Already the delvers were hard at work creating a statue of the new Savior to be placed prominently in the temple’s main chamber.

The rest of the crowd had no problem standing in Sera’s presence and gladly looked her in the face. Gerhold and Celaina stood arm in arm, as happy as they had ever been. Jenkins stood close by, easily the most embarrassed in the group, for he had led the party that had wanted to kill Sera and Ethan. However, he had repented before his renewal and now understood he was forgiven.

Ethan and Natasha stood side by side, not quite the long-lost lovers the paladin couple had become, but well on their way. Ethan would have wounds to heal at the loss of Sera, but Natasha would be patient with him, and Sera knew what the outcome would be.

Even Persephone and Terrance stood close to one another. With the clarity of mind the renewal gave them, the beautiful woman couldn’t help but notice how the paladin felt about her. She wasn’t looking for love right now but understood that unbelievers would outnumber them in this new world, and trusting companions would be hard to find. She was at least willing to give friendship a chance. It was better than being alone.

That left Emoyen standing by herself. The Paladin sage had already pleaded with Sera to bring back Deidre, but the Savior had not responded the way the knight had hoped. “All will be renewed in time,” she said. “I have a responsibility to restore my people first. There will be trouble in the years ahead, and this is not yet the time for us to live in peace and prosperity. That time will come, but I must be just.”

With her renewed mind, Emoyen understood. Deidre had rejected the Divine faith and lied to the faithful priests. Emoyen had done the same, but she had been alive to repent of her mistakes. But the paladin also understood that this was not paradise yet. There would be terrible wars ahead, and while their bodies were now perfect and would not die from age, they could be killed. When that happened, they would transcend and be joined to the Divine. Sera did not promise any of them eternal life in this realm, and some of them would not survive the wars ahead, but when all was accomplished, and all had either been renewed or removed, paradise would come, and then all of the faithful would be joined together in perfection for all eternity. But that time had not yet come, and might not come for many years, perhaps centuries. Until then, they must remain faithful.

“I must leave you now,” Sera said. “Many others are suffering, and though I am powerful, I can only be in one place at a time. I will fight for you and with you, and I will always remember you as my friends who saved me long before I saved you.”

With that, the Savior flew up into the clouds and was gone. The crowd stood there for several minutes before they finally turned around and began their new life.

The END