Two years had passed since that fateful time in the orc city. The old party had dispersed far and wide, each acting upon their own wish.
Jean had woken up on a cliff a few minutes after his death. Dragging himself to his feet, he realized that his body was very much the same, but the power he held was incredible. This was the power of a cursed one. His eyes had turned red, and his teeth had become jagged and pointed.
He had found a little village up the coast and promptly killed every man, woman, and child. He corrupted them, made them his own. For two years, he stayed and ran his village of undead. After a great deal of searching, he obtained a mask with mystical properties, which he used to hide the features that betrayed his as a cursed one. To his understanding, it was called Hoolron Vishnir.
Tsubaki had woken in the middle of a forest. She was surprised to find that her body was feline, complete with ears and a tail. Adopting the name Noel as part of her new identity, she wore a cloak with a hood that hid her tail and ears, wearing a mask to hide her furry face. Noel wandered the lands, doing vigilante work, making a fair few enemies along the way.
Isarda and Balder were married upon their return to the elven capital. Isarda's success at creating the peace treaty between the elves and the orcs was enough to get her promoted to a duchess. Isarda and Balder lived in the largest house in the capital together.
Lily had gone perhaps the farthest of all of them. She became a wanderer, simply going around the land doing good deeds. She would do anything she could, be it vigilante or employed, honest or more of the rogue work she was so adept at. But nothing she did could fill the void.
The loss of Xant two years earlier was still a fresh wound on her heart. She was sad, very sad. She considered killing herself to truly be with him more than once. Once, about six months after Xant's becoming an angel, she tried it. Deep in the woods, completely alone with no chance of help, she slit both her wrists, halfway down her forearms and deep enough to touch bone. In ordinary circumstances, the ones she had been counting on, there was no chance of survival. What she didn't count on was divine intervention. Xant seemed to have become her literal guardian angel, stopping her bleeding before she could die. She carried the scars on her wrists as a reminder that he was watching her. She had also picked up the habit of scratching at her scars when she was upset, not even noticing doing it anymore.
Lily had not gone anywhere near another man in two years. She now considered everything, even something as simple as a kiss on the hand, the deepest form of betrayal. She was unwilling to do anything that she wouldn't have done when she was still in Xant's arms, even though she knew that he was long gone.
Next chapter starts the actual story, I promise.