Esther was born into a small village of people who believed in reincarnations. When she was five, an adult overheard her talking to her friends about her previous life. Soon after, the priests came and took her away from her family. She was brought into the temple, where they asked her a number of questions. It was the first time in Esther’s life to have people paying supreme attention to her. Within her family, she was the sixth child out of eleven, and she was often forgotten or neglected. She was happy to comply with the priests’ interests and supplied them various details and answers.

A few priests thought that some of her stories did not add up, but they chalked it up to the soul’s confusion of having to transfer over to this new vessel. More than ever, their religion was dying and people were losing belief in reincarnations. Their instincts told them that they needed this child as much as the child needed them. When she turned six years old, they crowned her a ‘Saint’ in front of the whole village.

Saint Esther grew up magnificently. She was adorable as a child, pure as a teenager, and charming as a young woman. Her eyes were a little vacant, staring at distant things that no one else could discern, but the head priest explained it well.

“She is already seeing into her next life. She is proof of our faith.”

The people accepted this and worshipped her duly.

One day, Saint Esther asked her caretaker priest, “I would like to marry.”

The priest was taken by surprise. “But, Saint Esther, you are our Saint. You can’t belong to a mortal man!”

She laughed, a little mad, “I’ve only been making things up. Don’t be daft. I do not remember anything about past life or some such horrid nonsense.”

The next day Saint Esther’s blessings were cancelled at the town. People clamoured.

“Where is Saint Esther? I would like to listen to her stories about her lives!”

“She who remembers! She who sees!”

“Who am I going to be in my next life?!”

The priests were silent. Eventually, one of them stepped forward and announced, “Saint Esther is very ill. Please pray for her. Be faithful. With your prayers, she may recover.”

Even as they withdrew into the temple, the beginning of a chanting prayer could be heard. The people were faithful.

Within the dark chambers of the inner temple, the priests were in distress. Anguished, they turned to the priest that asked the villagers to pray for Esther.

“What did you tell them?”

“That she is unwell.” The priest replied. Though young, this priest was ambitious and his eyes were aglow with a strange fire. “She is, you know, unwell.” He continued.

The rest of them considered this. A few started to nod.

“Yes, that’s right. She is unwell.”

Once agreed upon, saying such things out loud, it felt less like an opinion and more like the truth. They repeated it again.

“She is unwell.”

It was true. She was unwell.

They turned once more to the young, ambitious priest with the strange glow in his eyes. “How shall we treat her?”

The priest smiled.

Saint Esther reappeared. The people were jubilant. She was no longer talkative, but her gaze remained. Vacantly staring into the distance, Saint Esther sat amongst her worshippers benevolently. They told her many of their worries, confident that she would bless them with better lives next time if she had heard how much they are struggling in this one. A small drool dripped from the corner of her idle mouth. The young priest quickly produced a handkerchief and wiped it away gently.

The people thought it was rather strange, but Saint Esther’s face was smiling still. They offered their praises and they went home.

Saint Esther was guided back into the temple once the mass was over. Seated on a soft day-bed, she smiled benevolently as the young priest fed her another dose of opium. Her eyes dilated, she laid her body down to continue to stare vacantly at the ceiling of her room. A face of perfect serenity. A state of detachment from everything.

The young priest sighed.

“I have yet to increase the dose again. She will not last very long.” He stood up, staring down at the wasting body of Esther. He turned around to his kin and proclaimed, “We will need another Saint.”

The other priests exchanged looks of confusion.

He smiled, answering, “Find a child.”