Everything seemed to be moving so slowly. She did not feel nor see her arm cut in two nor felt the broad swords slice through her flesh. All that mattered to her was the girl standing in front of her, her most beloved friend, Hilda. Suddenly, as if she was never there, she vanished, in her place the twin who she had been fighting only minutes ago. Then realizing what had happened, her joyful smiled faltered, and bowing her head she scoffed at herself. "I see," she thought, not noticing that a warrior in front of her was raising her sword above her head for the killing blow. "I was tricked." She looked up to the sky. "I'm sorry, everyone. I was stupid. Forgive me." The warrior brought down her sword and everything faded away.
Miria opened her eyes to find it was so dark that it made no difference if her eyes were open or not. Around her there seemed to be nothing, just darkness. She did not move, or at least she could not. As she lay there in the darkness, memories from her past that she had not thought of in a long time flashed before her eyes. She saw herself as a child, laughing and playing. She recalled when the Yoma had attacked and killed her family. She remembered when she went on her first mission after becoming a half Yoma, half human, when she met Hilda. She remembered the tears she had cried upon realizing it was Hilda who she had killed, and nearly awakening in the process. "That's when everything started," she thought.
She recalled from the time when she had met Helen, Deneve, and Clare. "I had wondered why she had brought that boy along with her." Memories from when they met again in Pieta, when they woke up in a field of corpses in the ruins of town, and how she, Clare, Deneve, Helen and the rest of the survivors had buried their comrades and began training in the solitude of the North passed through her mind. She chuckled, recalling a day when Helen had started a snowball fight and had dragged everyone, even her, into it. Suddenly, there was a bright light, and instinctively she closed her eyes.
Miria opened her eyes, again. The first thing she saw was a beautiful azure sky with a few wisps of clouds, disturbing the constant blue. Out of the corner of her eye she saw tall green grass around her. She stood up and looked around, the grass barely reaching her waist. She found herself in a clearing surrounded by trees. Recalling the events from before, she put her hand to her stomach, feeling for the wound of the claymore that had pierced her. There was none. "Was it a dream?" she asked herself. She looked around her again and found her claymore lying in the grass not far from her. She picked it up and immediately noticed that her sign was missing. However it did not seem to matter anymore. She sheathed her sword, feeling somewhat comforted at having it against her back. There was a gent sunlight coming from between the trunks of the trees, and she headed toward it, leaving the clearing.
Miria walked through the forest, she could not help but feel relaxed and at peace for some reason. She did not feel the need to sense the area for Yoma or warriors. She felt safe, safer then she had felt ever since becoming half Yoma, half human. As she kept walking, the trees began to thin, giving way to a rocky terrain. She recognized the place immediately. It was the place where she had fought with Hilda and against her. "Miria," said a voice. Miria whirled around to look at the owner of the voice that had called her name. It was a voice she barely remembered, but remembered nonetheless, a voice she had not heard in years. It was Hilda.
Without being conscious of it, Miria began walking towards her, and Hilda did the same. When they were an arm's length apart they stopped. "Is this another illusion?" asked Miria, more to herself than to the woman in front of her. As if in answer, Hilda raised her hand and gently cupped Miria's cheek and Miria laid her hand on top of hers. Miria answered her own question. "No, it isn't." And they embraced each other. After what seemed like hours had passed, they separated. "So I really am dead," stated Miria.
Hilda gave a wry chuckle, and smiled a sad smile. "Yes," she said gently.
Miria bowed her head in embarrassment. "How stupid of me to die in such a manner," she said in spite of herself. Hilda smiled, sympathetically, and put her hand on Miria's shoulder, reassuringly. Miria looked up at her friend, small smile on her lips. "So…all we can do now is to watch, huh? Watch and see what happens to our comrades that we had left behind."
Hilda nodded. "Yes, along with them," she said, turning her head away from Miria. Miria looked in the direction of her gaze. There, standing a few yards from them watching them silently, she saw classmates, comrades and friends who had come to this place before her. As she swept her gaze around them she saw Undine, Flora, Jean, and many others from Pieta. All of them seemed to have small, comforting smiles on their faces. Seeing them, Miria took a deep breath and exhaled, a small smile creeping up her face. She looked back to Hilda. Hilda looked back to her and taking Miria's hand, she began walking towards them.
Rubel looked out from under his hat after ensuring it was over. He stood up and walked toward the bloody mess that was now Miria. Upon arriving at the scene, he picked up Miria's sword, looking at the sign engraved upon it. He handed it to the nearest warrior, Audrey, Number 3. Audrey, hesitantly took the sword from him, and looked at him in confusion. "What do you want me to do with this?" she asked.
Rubel looked at her, his face devoid of emotion and then turned his gaze to the horizon, as if seeing or sensing something the warriors could not. "When all this is over, take her sword to Pieta and put it with all the other swords of those who had fallen in the Battle of the North."
"But she attacked the Organization!" protested Audrey, several other warriors looking on in surprise at Rubel's order.
"She was a warrior, just like the rest of you, half Yoma, half human. She has the right to be treated as one. Besides it is the least you can do to repay her for rescuing you from that Awakened one, and for not killing you," he said firmly.
Audrey opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't. Instead she looked at the claymore in her hand and at the symbol it bore. "Who was she?" she asked finally.
Rubel looked up at the gray sky that always seemed to hover above the Organization. "She was Phantom Miria, the leader of the warriors that had died in the Battle of the North… a ghost of Pieta." He let out a wry chuckle. "It is strangely ironic…"
"What is?" asked Audrey, sheathing Miria's sword before he her own so that Miria's sword would be on bottom.
A thin smile curled his lips. "Nothing, it's just that I find it ironic that a phantom was killed by an illusion."