Interlude III: The Tower


Most often than not, fairy tales tend to go beyond what is considered normal. They play with the concept of fantasies, impossibilities and so much more that it's impressive. It's no wonder that children are often enthralled by such concepts that they explore; romance, chivalry, adventures.

Nonetheless, there was never a right reason to simply dismiss such high tales as absurd, for sometimes, they tend to hold powerful truths that would be key to salvation.

Becoming a knight was, as she felt, her destiny. She'd desired to become a sword and shield for the people; one who could protect those who could not fend for themselves. That was what Kizmel desired to be, and she'd been granted that very opportunity.

It was, by no means, a fairy tale on her part. For one thing, she's an elf. And second, she hadn't been given such a position by courting princes, saving a kingdom or running from her troubles—she was a knight through the blood and sweat she poured into her efforts. Every step of the way, she had never given up on making sure she was closer to her destiny. And when she'd been knighted by her queen, she had been prepared to fulfil the role as properly as ever.

Sometimes, however, we become bigger than what we expect. And the Dark Elf would soon learn one such important lesson that she was certain all the books in her childhood had never taught her.

Change is inevitable. From there, the only option that remained was to adapt to it and move forwards, or be buried under all the burdens and die with the world.


August 2022—Aincrad. Floor 9, Dark Elf Queen's Castle

"Rise, Kizmel."

"Your Majesty."

There had been a point in her life when Kizmel, just a simple girl with a simple life in the village, had dreamt of becoming a knight. It was, after all, the highest honour one could possibly have; to give oneself wholly to the service of their kingdom. It was something that she and her sister had dreamt of, and something her parents had joked about them becoming knights in the future.

And here she is, standing before her queen in armour, pride swelling in her bosom.

In the eyes of the foolish, they may have felt that it was a pitiful thing. To be forced into such a trying and dangerous position with little compensation… but none knew the truth better than Kizmel herself, and she was nothing but honoured to be allowed this position, if only because it meant that she could truly serve her queen and her kingdom.

If asked if she could change her position for something else, she would reject such offers every time.

The woman before her was the one who ruled over all Dark Elves. Her queen in the flesh, dressed in a beautiful blue gown as her silver hair seemed to glitter from the light that poured down on her from the windowpane. She looked so beautiful. Majestic, even. A rightful ruler of their people.

And so very kind, as her expression melted into a warm smile. "You look rather lovely today. Did you have a stroke of good happenstances?"

"Not at all, Lady Astra," she shook her head. "I was simply deep in thought."

"Deep in thought, hmm? Well, if you say so," she said, walking away from her throne and descending the small steps. "Come walk with me."

Kizmel obliged, following her queen out of the throne room. The two found themselves strolling across the corridors of the castle, with an open view of the gardens being tended to by gardeners. Some would bow in the presence of the queen while others nodded their heads, and Kizmel simply stared ahead, her steps matching her queen's gentle stride.

The scent of honey in the air, carried by the winds from the forest surrounding the palace. Polished floors that reflected their own visages. Walls of ivory adorned by beautiful paintings, more than a few depicting stories of a human swordsman. That last part draws her attention as she pauses to stare at them, unknowingly gaining a smile from her queen.

"Curious, are you not?"

"A-Ah, forgive me, Your Majesty. I was just…"

Ever the magnanimous woman she was, Lady Astra simply shook her head, vibrant silver hair slipping off her shoulders. "You needn't worry. Even I find myself staring at these pictures quite frequently in my free time."

"You do?" Kizmel asked.

"I do, although I'm nowhere close to understanding what most of them are," her words were tinged with curiosity, baby blue eyes staring at the paintings. "A human swordsman… I do wonder why our castle is in possession of such depictions."

It was indeed odd. Given their past history with one another, what with the major wars and whatnot, there really should have been no reason for elves and humans to really like each other, whatnot. Kizmel didn't mind them one bit, though she didn't understand how these paintings ended up here, in an elven castle.

Their gazes shifted towards the painting once more, and it was straightforward, but no less impressive. Standing in the middle and surrounded on both sides by vicious monsters—all of them unknown, all of them that she's never seen before, yet a quiet sense of familiar ebbed in her heart—he had his sword poised well above his head. Even the weapon seemed to be of importance, as the blade was partially shattered in the middle, and a demon looked to be emerging from it.

It was, quite frankly, a strange painting. No one knew who this person was, nor did they understand the reason why it was made in the first place. And there were quite a few of them, although each depiction varied; some had the Hero leading a charge against the monster, countless others behind him, while another had him surrounded by cards with roman numerals (not like she understood what they were).

Kizmel simply looked at them for the sake of looking, in all honesty. This person seemed rather incredible, she would admit, but it seemed odd hanging these up on the castle walls. But…

"Then why do you keep them?" The knight asked once more.

The two continued on, this time stepping out into a courtyard of sorts. There was a large body of water in the middle of the space, meant to replicate a pond of sorts, housing numerous water lilies and fish. Around them, a few benches, trees and trimmed shrubs.

It was a comfortable silence, and her queen guided her by the hand to a bench, where the two sat. Kizmel was hesitant, of course, but she simply relented after earning one of her stares. The kind of stares that people give others when they're trying to say 'just do it'.

It's when people stare at you without a word, and yet somehow defeat you in the end, is enough to tell you that they're really good.

"Just sit with me. It's not like it's a crime," she always manages to sound so casual through it all, even rolling her eyes. "And to answer your question… well, it's because they're from when my own father was in the ruling seat. He has asked that I not dispose them because it was… unique? Resonated with him? I honestly had no idea what he meant."

"But you kept them all the same," nodded the purplette. "That is kind of you, Your Majesty."

"Nothing like that. I would admit, I find them appealing all the same," chuckling, Astra brushed back some loose strands that hung from her ear. "But here's a question to you now. Tell me, you spend quite some time yourself looking at those pictures. Why so?"

Urk! She knows! Kizmel promptly looked away, a sheepish expression on her face as she imagined her queen wagging her brows at her with innocent curiosity. "T-That's…"

"By all means, don't let me stop you from looking at art. I'd be a rather terrible person to do so, considering that I like to look at them as well," shrugged the other elf. "But you seem rather fascinated by them, always with a focused look in your eyes… Pray tell, why so?"

"W-Well, that's… Ahem, it's a rather odd thing to say, and perhaps it might make no sort of sense. Yet, when I look at the man in the picture…" Her breathing stilled, a blurry picture in her mind's eye that begs an explanation. "I… It feels like I know him."

She would have thought it was just an imagination on her part, yet her heart seemed rather certain of it. A few nights ever since she'd knighted, she just had this odd feeling of recognizing the painting. Was it madness on her part? A delusion? She didn't know, yet she knew him somehow.

And stranger still was the fact that he felt familiar in a… in a close way. A kind of bond that close friends share.

It was hard to imagine herself somehow becoming acquainted with and growing so close to a human. Not due to any sort of dislike towards the specific race, mind you, but simply because she'd never met or interacted with one before. She'd never met someone like him, either. So why would she…

"Is that so? How curious. I wonder if you'll get your answers soon," she nodded back. It would be nice to finally meet this person and put an end to all the questions. "Haha, it seems I've learnt something new about you. Perhaps this is a sign of love?"

"L-Love? Your Majesty, please do not joke about something like that," the mere thought of being in a relationship made her uncomfortable. She hadn't considering her social life whatsoever during her years, and she was pretty certain she could make do without it even now.

"Haha! Oh, Kizmel, I only tease. You simply are a wonder to be around," well, glad to know she got some enjoyment of that. "Anyways, while I'd wish we could continue our little gossip and whatnot a little longer, that would have to wait. The reason I've called you here is, well, one because I needed a break. And two, because I have a mission for you."

Back to business, and she quickly slipped into her demeanour. "Of course, Your Majesty. What would you ask of me?"

"One of our scouts had recently discovered the Jade Key, per my orders a month ago. They were meant to come here as soon as they retrieved it, but it seems that they're facing some… difficulties," her hardened tone was clearly telling; Forest Elves. Their lifelong enemies. "The Jade Key is currently in possession of one of our own in the Forest of Wavering Mists. I'd like you to retrieve it and bring it here. It is imperative that we reclaim it before the Forest Elves can take it back from us."

"Of course, Your Majesty," nodding her head, she stared to the sky. To where pastel blue greeted her with its gentle brightness, not finding the way the sky seemed more like a strange barrier odd whatsoever. "I shall retrieve the key and return as quickly as possible."

A simple mission; reconvene with their allies and retrieve a prized item. How hard could it be?


August 2022—Aincrad. Floor 3, Forest of Wavering Mists

Negligence or simply underestimating the situation is most likely going to make matters worse. Kizmel had thought that she hadn't done so whatsoever, having come prepared for the mission. She'd learnt such a lesson during her earlier years training under Lord Yofilis—the elder elf was as strict as one could be, and drilled as many lessons into you as he could.

He was harsh, but an effective teacher. And she'd thought that she was much more prepared now. That, having matured much more than before, she knew how to move forwards.

Things don't always work the way you want to all the time.

"Gah..!" Knocked back into bushes, she hastily pushed herself back to her feet and backpedalled, avoiding the blade that had swung for her throat before returning the attack with a «Slant», downing her enemy. "Tch..! Where are the rest of your men?!"

"I don't know!" Shouted her ally, in his hands a simple talwar and escutcheon, both of which were showing signs of exhaustion. They won't last him any longer. "Damn it, they really got us good..! I didn't think there were so many of them!"

It was supposed to have been a simple mission. Or as simple as it should have been until the enemy had decided to spring an ambush on them, quickly outnumbering them and taking out almost all of their men.

Behind her, an arrow flew, burying itself within the gut of an enemy. The elf fell to the ground, a guttural cry escaping his lips as he expires, bursting into polygons.

From whence they came, return to the light. She would mourn for her enemies another time, for she still had a duty to fulfil. And that dictated that they were her enemies, and she had to keep fighting to protect her allies. "We need to leave! Stay any longer, and we'll be in worse trouble!"

"Of course!"

"Right!"

The sword-bearer threw her the key, which she caught with one free hand before running towards the back. He raised his sword to parry an attack, ramming his assailant with his shoulder before chasing after her, their bow-wielding comrade quickly in tow.

There should have been ten men in total, yet five had been felled in the sudden assault. Three managed to last long enough until she arrived, and they'd been taken out immediately after. There was no overpowering the enemy; not when their numbers just dwarfed theirs.

The situation was bad, but not salvageable. They merely need to gain distance from the enemy and find a safe place, just stay low for a bit. And then, they'll—

"Gah!" A scream from the distance catches her attention, and it's for a brief moment, but a sword had found itself into the belly of the archer. He turns to scream for help, but his head is severed from his shoulders a moment later.

Gritting her teeth, she runs faster, breaking past the foliage, her remaining ally in tow.

It was all they could do but keep running, she realized, but one will ultimately end up running on fumes one way or another. And she was running through more bushes, trees and bodies of those she'd defeated. Glass shattered behind her.

She kept running, but she was steadily reaching her bodily limit. The two found themselves in a clearing, panting somewhat. They had been running for too long.

For how long, she couldn't tell. How much longer?

Not anymore.

"So… this is it..?" The other Dark Elf was panting, his grip over his scimitar and shield tight. "Damn it all… Hey, you're Lady Astra's retainer, yeah?"

"I… I am," nodded the woman.

"I see… Heh, you certainly are pretty good. I saw the moves you pulled off back there, and they were something," letting out one final breath, he raised his sword high above his shoulder, the weapon glowing bright. "Listen up. You'd better make it out alive, yeah? That key… it's the most important thing right now if we want to win this war. Do not let it fall into the enemy hands, got it?"

"…I swear it," the grim finality in his words were clear, the message not lost on her. Her eyes closed. "Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

He didn't say anything anymore, only charged right into the shadows and leaves once more. His battle cry, loud in the beginning, had slowly faded away, replaced with the ringing of metal—that, too, faded away soon enough, until she heard the sound of metal cutting into flesh.

Death comes to all. And if victory required the cost of such?

She ran once more.

No cost too great, for their people.


A wordless gasp escaped her throat as she swung took a blow, retaliating in turn with a well-timed slash that cut across her opponent's chestplate. She managed to bypass the metal, striking flesh for just a fraction of a second before she was forced to duck underneath a «Horizontal», the booming reduced into a faint shimmer soon enough.

It was a one-on-one fight now. Her allies had given it their all to give her time, and she couldn't afford to let their efforts to go to waste. Not when she still had the chance to return to her people with the Jade Key.

With a grunt, she stepped back, automatically putting herself into a rhythm; dodge, swing, dodge again, and pray that she could dodge, because goddesses know his sword is heavy, and that makes his swings incredibly strong, thus difficult to parry or deflect.

She initiated a «Reaver», lunging forwards and striking the Forest Elf across the midriff, getting a gruff shout. Attempting to parry his weapon would be pointless, and she simply lets herself move out of the way with fancy footwork.

Claiming distance, and a small breath leaving her lips, Kizmel steadies her weapon once more. This troop is hardly skilled, but he made up for it with raw strength, allowing him to overpower her. One blow would be more than enough to make her go limp, and she couldn't afford to let that happen.

Not when she was still—

Footsteps in the distance, growing closer as leaves and twigs are crushed underneath the person's boots. Soon enough, the person came into view. "Huh? Elves?"

A human? What are they doing here? Human civilization is far from here, so what is a human—

A sword had caught her in the shoulder, yet not a single sound came from her. Had she been in the right of mind, she would chastised herself for her blunder; his swing was slow, so easily avoidable, yet she had taken the brunt of it. Stood there like an idiot. There was no reason that she should have been careless.

The human at the fore, with black hair and black eyes, stared at her in wonder and surprise.

But that's..!

"Crap, hang on!"

"Begone, Dark Elf!"

The fight didn't last very long soon after, not when this human had suddenly rushed in to help her. Not even when the two of the elves yelled for him not to interfere, he had seemed determined to assist her.

It wouldn't be even longer before, realizing that he was to be defeated, that the Forest Elf pushed himself into taking at least one enemy down with him. And who better for it to be if not her, wounded and tired from the fight?

She didn't even question herself when she threw the key at the human. All that she knew was that she could tru—


….

…..

….

…..

…..

…..

…..Not yet


On Aincrad, there was no such thing as religion. Or even if there was, there was just not many devout followers of such faith. But there existed many beliefs here, and Kizmel would admit to believing in animism and a 'Faith of Light'.

The world of Aincrad was diverse, beautiful and bountiful with its gifts. There exists a sun god, she believed, that blessed them with light and warmth. There exists an earth god that rewards them with healthy crops when they work the grounds. And perhaps, she believed, there was a god of dreams. That would explain all her old dreams.

Anyways, there was also the 'Faith of Light'. It is believed that, when a person or animal dies—be it from natural cause such as natural aging or death at the hands of another—they are to be claimed by the light of Aincrad. It was a natural rule that has persisted since time immemorial, claiming its residents once more through a gentleness so unlike anything that they would know.

Granted, no one could be entirely certain if it was gentle, as no dead man would be alive to tell the tale, yet it was a belief that such a death was indeed very merciful. To become something so beautiful, weightless… she could only imagine.

Whatever pain would last no longer, and none of them would ever be worried of their bodies being ruined beyond what it is. They would become one with the world, spared and free.

And yet… yet, here she is, in her burgundy room once more. Well, the carpet is, but the walls are more grey than anything else.

As a knight, Kizmel had devoted her life to the service of her queen, knowing that there was no other cause more prestigious. She had grown up her entire life wanting to become a knight, and with it, came the understanding that she would potentially be placing herself in danger. Death was a possibility, and she could not be afford to be afraid. Not if it meant someone else would suffer for her carelessness.

She had died. She knew that the moment the Forest Elf's sword had pierced her gut. She had known so when her body had suddenly felt fifty times lighter, her head suddenly swimming in emptiness before she finally saw light take over her vision.

There was absolutely nothing in the end, and she had become light itself.

And suddenly… she was here. In her room. In her bed.

There was confusion on her part, and a dreaded feeling building in her gut. What had just happened? She had died, that was for certain. The look on the swordsman's face was clear; he knew she was going to die, and she did.

Was… No, that cannot have been a dream. She remembered meeting her queen, remembered going out to meet up with the group that had the Jade Key, remembered seeing the black-haired human, remembered giving him the key, remembered getting stabbed, and finally dissolving into light.

And here she is now, in her room.

More than a little disturbed by how things have just progressed, she made to check any wounds on her body—

"Aangh..!" Her mind was suddenly split, a phantom blade wedged deep into her brain that caused her to grip her head in pain, her voice high-pitched and pained. "Ghhaaa!"

She wouldn't know why it had hurt so much, nor would she have expected doctors to come rushing into the room to stop her from thrashing in her bed, the Elf Queen present as well to watch her with concern as she pleaded for the doctors to help her.

Somewhere, deep inside her, a black cavalier whispers nothing but promises of strength, along with words of 'the Hero'.


6th November 2022—Aincrad. Floor 9, Dark Elf Queen's Castle

"How are you feeling, my friend?"

"I… A little better, but not so steady, it seems."

A gentle hand across her shoulder to help keep her steady, in case she was struck by a fit of pain like she had suffered these few times. They were becoming less painful over the days, though quite occasional, and her queen continued to look after her.

Such kindness that she felt she didn't deserve. She was grateful that Lady Astra trusted her enough to consider her in her circle of friends, but in that moment, she couldn't afford to find the usual warmth in her words. Instead, she was too lost in her thoughts. One thing continued to remain in her mind.

Three months. Three whole months that she had supposedly 'died', and yet, nothing seemed to have changed. There was no mention of successful retrieval of the Jade Key, its whereabouts unknown. No scouts having gone out to find the enemy. Everything that had happened then didn't.

Kizmel was now… well, she couldn't tell whether she was fine or crazy.

'Had I really died..?' She didn't want to believe it so, but it would be foolish of her to simply dismiss what had happened. 'I must have, and yet… this doesn't make sense.'

Nothing was wrong. The Forest Elves haven't made any moves yet, but what struck her as odd was how there seemed to be less hostility between their factions than she last remembered. She had no scars, no reminder of her fight in the forest, nothing to prove that what had happened three months ago was true.

She could have written it off as simply a dream, but that was impossible. Not with the phantom sensation of a sword in her belly that still made her uncomfortable.

"W-Well, I still have my regular bouts of headaches," she wouldn't want to admit to any weakness in front of her queen, but she knew that hiding it would only worry her even more. "I have rested well enough, yet they haven't seem to fade in the slightest…"

"Is that so? That is worrying," she hummed, crossing her arms beneath her bust. "I will need you at your best for next month, Kizmel, so I'm willing to let you simply rest for the month. I wouldn't want to push you into doing anything so strenuous so soon."

Her words earned the knight's curiosity, her lavender brows raised. "Your Majesty? Is there… something happening next month?"

"Indeed. The news haven't exactly been made public yet, but it will undoubtedly be the single biggest event in the history of both elves," her smile seemed to widen, only piquing Kizmel's interest even more. "For you see, Kizmel, I will be meeting the Forest Elf King, and bring forth peace for both our kingdoms."

A single blink. And then a second. And then.

"Oh."

"Oh? I was expecting a shout there."

To be fair, the readers and maybe everyone else were too.

"Forgive me, but that's… that's good! E-Extremely so," she added that last part with a small stutter, genuinely caught off-guard with what she heard. "I didn't think it would ever be possible… That's pleasing to hear."

"It is, isn't it?" Astra looked happy as well. "I'd actually received a letter from the king. The both of us shared a consensus that the current situation is… well, war is just no good. Spilling the blood of young men and women… none of us want that. Only peace can ensure that it will never become a thing ever again. As such, on the fifth of next month, the Forest Elf King will come to our castle with an entourage of his own, and we shall sign a treaty that will promise everlasting peace between our two kingdoms."

Amazing… That her queen was so determined to give her people the safety and a prosperous future alongside the Forest Elves made her warm inside, beaming.

Peace. Such a concept with the enemy seems so foreign, but it was a pleasant thought. No longer would they have to be odds with one another any longer.

She would be lying to herself if she said that she despised the enemy. She wasn't an anti-Forest Elf as many of her comrades seemed to be, but duty remained a duty; and if that meant cutting them down, then she would simply carry it out, just as they would. But now, they had the opportunity to put away their swords and live together.

That was something she would happily accept, if it meant no more bloodshed.

"Ah…" A minor burn at the fore of her skull, her hand moving to massage it.

Her friend noticed, frowning. "Well, it doesn't exactly seem that you're still in the right of things… Very well. Kizmel, I'd like you to take the whole month off. You've earned it after all that you've done."

"I, ah… Are you certain of that?" She hardly felt worthy of such time off, but the thought of getting extra rest sounded nice. "If you wish it, Your Majesty… Thank you."

She was right. Sleep is the best medicine for everything, so some extra hours of sleep would do her well.


A week of no change would be a good excuse for her to seek out a practiced doctor, but she had a feeling that such a condition was just… abnormal. Not something that normal medicine would be able to remedy.

Some might call her stubborn, others would call her stupid. Kizmel found herself increasingly suspicious throughout the nights, dreaming of many things. And the elf found herself surprised by how much she dreamt throughout the nights, or even the things she found herself thinking of in her sleep.

There were so many faces. All that felt so familiar to her despite having met none of them. Many were human, some were… different entities altogether. And quite a large number of them weren't from Aincrad—what did that mean..?

One such face was one she had seen plenty of times in her mind before. The one that her heart called 'The Hero', shared the same aura with that human she'd met on the day of her 'death'. They looked so different, yet she somehow felt as if she knew him from so long ago…

And yet, that wasn't even the weirdest thing. She'd dreamt of something entirely new this time, following the emergence of her headaches; a knight atop his steed.

That was already such a strange thing to dream of, yet what it was even more so. The 'horse' itself only seemed to possess the head and body. Its body was more akin to a spear, no limbs whatsoever, while the rider seemed to have a weapon pierced in its chest. It spoke no words yet seemed to resonate with her soul, and its lack of expression seemed to hide that of brave determination.

It was… so weird. What is that being?

There was a possibility that it was linked to the black swordsman she had met a week ago… three months ago? She couldn't be certain how time would work for her, but she knew that there must be some sort of connection between him, this being haunting her, and the prophesied Hero.

It was highly unlikely that he is the one, but it felt too coincidental, to the point that it didn't feel that way. Or the headaches might have really affected her ability to actually remain sane and clear, and she's just losing it. That's possible too.

Honestly, tonight shouldn't have been any different. With so much free time now that she's relieved of her knightly duties, she practically had nothing to do. Plus, she was barred from any strenuous tasks, something of which she knew her friend and queen had something to do with; so doting she was that it was embarrassing.

When she looked up to the sky, it was as it had always been; a pitch black littered with countless stars, staring back at her and the world. The way the world seemed to whisper to her with the winds that blew almost had her on edge, but the cooling sensation against her skin was enough to remind her that she was truly safe and not in actual danger.

The courtyard is the same as always, though there were the lamps that gave off light, allowing her to see. Even then, that would have been wholly unnecessary, given Dark Elves and their natural ability to see in the darkness, but it brought a nice touch to the place. A warm yellow that dispelled the darkness. Made her feel safe.

"A waste of time to be out here… but the winds tonight are so pleasant," she muttered to herself, smiling as she felt her body naturally relax on its own. "So soothing…"

That night in particular would have been just like any other night, but in the month to come, Kizmel had understood that she was destined for change. That the world would constantly undergo shifts that would often most throw her in for countless loops, forced to adapt and overcome or become lost in it all.

The day she had returned, everything had changed for her.

It wasn't going to stop now.

"Erkha…" A soft groan as a fresh pang of pain hits her, a look of annoyance on her expression. "Damn it… Every time, it's—Aarh..!"

A stronger jab, this time forcing her to collapse to her knees amongst the blades of grass as the stinging sensation grows stronger, clutching her head with one hand as another grasps her knee, trying to find balance.

So focused on trying to lessen the mental pain—the thought of squeezing your own head to make your head hurt from a physical pain more than the headache sounds absurd, yet many find it strangely effective—that she hardly noticed how her shadow seemed to waver, let alone the ethereal blue flames that began to burn around her, brightening the area.

It was once she felt the pain begin to ebb away, replaced instead with heat that bathed her body and the area around her, did she notice how a shadow was thrown over her figure, which had her staring up. Violet eyes widened in shock.

There he is. The very chevalier that she had been dreaming of all these nights.

The horse neighed, a coarse sound that sounded like creaking steel. The rider was silent, staring down at her from where he was gripping the reins of his steed. He stared at her, and she was quiet, uncertain of what to feel.

This presence… it felt so powerful. So unlike anything that she's ever seen before. And it made her feel so little, so overwhelmed.

She understood. Death had been unable to claim her, so He had sent His reaper to come for him (she would be woefully surprised when Death and the Reaper are indeed, most often than not, the same thing). Why else would he be here now? Though he weld no scythe, it was clear that he was here to take her life.

"You are here to kill me, are you not..?" She asked to the rider, one eye shut.

No answer.

Of course… She was a fool to think that the Reaper would even think to answer her question. He came here for only purpose, and that was for her head.

She was meant to die… Right. She died a week ago, and somehow came back with her life. She was upsetting the balance of the world, and the Reaper has shown Himself only to claim what was rightfully His.

"…This is it then," she knew that she would have no strength to outrun, outmanoeuvre or outpower this being. It would do her well to simply lay down and accept her fate. "If you are here to take my life, so be it. I… I accept my—"

"Dark Elf Kizmel," his voice had cut her off, painting surprise into her expression as his voice boomed out like a monster's growl. "Knight who serves the Dark Elf Queen… That is who you are."

"I… yes," small talk before her death? Well, she supposed it wouldn't hurt anyone. "That is me."

"Your kingdoms, your people, your queen and king…" There was a small pause, and his head craned back to stare up into the sky. "Ruin is imminent, and death will come to all."

All her life, ever since she had been a little girl who dreamt of becoming a knight, she understood that there would come many a time for when she would be forced to put herself in danger for a just cause. She had done so months ago (or, spiritually a week ago), but to hear of such dangers…

It send a chill down her bones, dread clogged in the back of her throat that made her feel sick. "W-What?"

"The cards are in place, and it seems that many are fated to die soon" he continued once more, his voice becoming hardened. "Not all is lost, however, knight Kizmel. My comrades and I. We have been brought here on a mission, and to prevent ruin, it is only right that I lend you my aid."

Lend her his aid? What did he mean by that?

She barely had any time to go down that path of thoughts, to properly ponder on his words before he suddenly lowered his body in what seemed like a bow, his horse lowering its head as well.

"I am Castor, and I am yours to command."

The next few days were complicated, and quite honestly, tiring.

The headaches had disappeared almost immediately; a silver lining that she appreciated greatly, though it came with the fact that, nowadays, she was filled with nothing but absolute paranoia.

One could wonder just what terrifies her so each and every night, but when an ethereal being shows up in front of you in the middle of the night and tells you that ruin was coming, you know that things are really serious.

It didn't help that Castor couldn't exactly predict when this danger would occur, only that it was in the near future. It had her shaken up, but she hid it well behind polite smiles and regal distance.

Something big was coming, and it spelt the end of all elves. It was quite a harrowing thought, and with the knowledge of such, what could she possibly do with it?

Tell the queen? No, that was a bad idea. A month from now, there would be the peace treaty that she would have to see to, and she wasn't hoping to add any distractions for her. Her family was immediately out of the question as well, as making them worry would make matters worse—they might think to take her away so that she would be safe.

What made things worse was that her queen would allow it.

So little choices, so little plans. Save for one, however…

"We have been brought here on a mission, and to prevent ruin, it is only right that that I lend you my aid."

Quite frankly, she didn't understand what that meant. But given his offer, it made sense that he might be able to do something about it. He was powerful, after all, and she had a good feeling that he might just be able to help.

So where did that bring her? In the forest in the middle of the night, alone and armless.

Except she had both arms, had weapons and had Castor—although, it seemed that she couldn't communicate to him unless she summoned him.

And she did so with just a thought of him, blue flames dancing around him as the black chevalier formed out of thin air. He didn't look any different, nor did he sound any different when he brought his voice to a steady tone. "Kizmel."

"Castor," she nodded, a greeting so simple that it was still comfortable. "I… require your assistance."

"Of course," nodded the rider. "What can I help you with?"

"Why… No, that would not be the right question. How can you help?" She asked, grasping one arm. "I mean it not to insult you, of course, but I wish to know… what are you capable of?"

"A reasonable question," he said. "Though I would delve into what I am, I can only seek to teach you the simplest of simple things. Kizmel, I shall teach you how to use my strength in battle."

Use his strength in battle… What an odd way of putting it, but if he was fine with fighting under her commands, then she could only hope that she'd be able to live up to his expectations.

"However, be warned that what comes next shall be difficult and taxing on both your body and mind. Overuse my power, and you may damage yourself beyond repair. Are you still willing to—"

"Yes."

There had never been any doubt in that. If it meant sacrificing herself for everyone's future, then it mattered little what would happen to her. So long as everyone else lived to see brighter days, then she would happily go down.

But not without a fight. Never without a fight.

"…I see. You are convicted on this, and shan't change your mind," he sounded pleased, if his tone small chuckle gave anything away. "Very well. I am Castor, and I am your Persona. Prepare yourself, for I shall not pull anything back."

She wouldn't have wanted it any other way.


5th December 2022—Aincrad. Floor 9, Dark Elf Queen's Castle

The day for peace had come, and Kizmel had never prayed any harder for things to go well. Literally, she spent an entire two hours in a prayer room to make offerings and the like.

She knew far too much, and yet all too little all the same—she knew what would come, yet she didn't know it's time, nor did she understand just what Castor's words actually meant. But, for the sake of her queen, she willed herself to shove these thoughts aside and focused on keeping calm.

After showing no more signs of tire and headaches, the queen had been happy to involve her in the ceremony, though she had been a little reluctant, worry almost making her decide to keep her out of things until she had formally requested that she be allowed to partake in the ceremony.

The song of trumpets and drums was loud, booming. It rung across the entire kingdom and castle, alerting all that were still in their homes of the incoming presence of the Forest Elves. And though it took some time (late by a minute or two, really), they had finally shown up.

And had she thought that her queen could be scary when she was in a no-nonsense mood, then she hadn't met the King of Forest Elves.

He was tall, incredibly so, with green robes that befitted a mage or a librarian more than it did him, although the adornment of medals and unique-looking charms on his cloak made up for what should have been a simple look. His pearly blue eyes were sharp, cautious, his gait alone demanding respect. With him, many other Forest Elves that refrained from looking anyone in the eye.

She'd expected there to only be his entourage, but that would have been risky. So the streets were filled to the brim with elves of both kinds, a mix of colours and personalities that awed her.

"You have arrived, Your Highness," the queen was the textbook definition of prim and proper; dressed in an elegant blue dresses with a golden necklace around her neck, and with makeup to put other nobles to shame, she made a curtsey towards the king. "It is a pleasure to have you with us. I hope there has been no such problem on your end?"

"It is of no concern, Your Majesty. Some stray beasts, though they were easily manageable thanks to my men," he gestured to the ones that were accompanying him. "Nonetheless, I do apologize for my delay. It was not part of my intention to keep you waiting."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that. Besides, you aren't so behind," with a grin, she gestured towards the castle. "If you would."

Kizmel gulped, keeping a furtive glance on the king as all of them walked together. The song still played, and it took all her effort not to cringe when the music rose in its pitch.

The path to the castle was paved… well, not in blood, but with a red carpet that the maids had taken extreme care in cleaning and ironing out its folds. There was some small chatter here, mostly about typical things like hobbies and their current economical situations. Some mundane stuff, then some fun things, and back and forth.

The Dark Elf accompanied her friend silently, switching her gaze from the king to her surroundings; the pillars, the seats, the walls, the workers, the bushes, the courtyard. Something bad was going to happen, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong today, of all days.

She prayed that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, and not a sense of foreboding.

They entered the throne room. Spacious and massive, where all eyes were on them as they sat on the row of seats prepared. The bluebloods took their place at the long dark wood table at the front, the throne put aside just for this occasion as they agreed for one thing; equality. To the queen's left, her trusted Dark Elves, and to his right, his own subordinates.

There were countless of reporters, writing down into their notepads at the speed of flying arrows. Indeed, this was an incredibly event, and all eyes were on the conference. There was no one who wouldn't want to be here as everything goes down.

And from there, everything seemed right. The king seemed relatively comfortable, and that was good. It meant that things were going smoothly. Kizmel had felt very foolish to have worried about things from the beginning. It wasn't like anything bad could happen.

Unknown to her, in that very moment, the creator of this world had decided to be a little less honourable than how he should have been and pitted three powerful monsters against the Hero, along with his human allies. A deadly battle to the death proceeded while she, oblivious, watched their surroundings for anything strange.

The sounds of paper shuffling was aplenty, as was the sign of hands and pens moving, being dragged across many formal documents to sign the peace treaty. There were many words exchanged and many promises made, and she felt content to know that the conference was coming to a close soon enough.

They could finally put an end to their years-long feud. They could put an end to their hatred towards one another.

She'd never wanted something more in her life.

'Aah..!' A brief stab into the back of her skull, forcing her to grit her teeth and hope no one took notice, much less so the queen. 'I thought it has…'

Danger.

Violet eyes widened as her neck snapped in one direction, then to the next. Something… Something was here. Something terrible! S-She didn't know where it was!

The ceiling? Amongst the people? Hiding behind a wall? Her mind was a haywire, yet it stubbornly refused to believe that they were safe. There was something here!

"…and as such, would it not be a worthwhile endeavour to—Hmm?" The king of the Forest Elves looked to her, quirking a brow. "Is something the matter?"

"A-Ah. No, Your Highness," she bit down on the urge to groan, heart palpitating as she struggled to prevent revealing anything. "I just—"

Clamped down.

Kizmel fell to the ground howling in pain, followed suit by a chorus of fear-induced screams that fill the throne room as the world cracked, and monsters descended from the heavens.

Everything was moving.

And so was her.

Kizmel wanted to stop to take a breath, however. Her body felt so heavy, so suddenly out of shape that it begged her to rest. Yet the beating of her heart was a war drum that helped her push through the exhaustion, her blade cleaving through the enemies before her.

No… Not enemies. Shadows.

"Hrah!" A great stab forwards pierces the gut of a humanoid creature, though she'd been too focused on her own fight to care. "Be cautious of your surroundings, Kizmel! We cannot lose no matter the cost!"

"O-Of course..!" She dodged a beast's lunge, bringing her sword down into its nape that kills it in one blow. She moves backwards, bumping into an elven soldier—Dark or Forest was a trivial matter—before she charged forwards, the sound of his screaming burnt into her mind.

Why? Why was this happening?

Everyone around her, everyone seemed to be in a struggling battle against one monster or another. Entities that went beyond normal, slaughtering her kind and that of the Forest Elves with magic, claws and fangs. A soldier she knew met his end with a blade through his throat, his gurgles unable to leave her mind whatsoever.

"We need to move!" Yelled Kizmel over the fire that consumed the castle. There was no use trying to put it out. The fire had come too quickly, and it was now a blazing inferno. Fighting the flames would be a suicidal task. "Her Majesty and His Majesty must be escorted to a safer place!"

Several knights shouted in affirmation, breaking through the line of yellow-furred monsters and black ooze. To her flank, a couple of soldiers were engaged in battle against literal birds of light, getting blasted apart by energy shots.

Kizmel shot forwards without thinking, narrowly avoiding getting crushed beneath cracked stone and rubble. Her sword deflected a slash from a red demon's polearm, the impact behind its attack rattling her bones as she gritted her teeth, leaping away to avoid getting struck down.

Bad. This was so bad. Where did these things come from? Why did they attack? The ceremony was so close to its end! Everything should have gone perfectly!

"Watch out!" Castor was summoned from a burst of blue flames as he rammed the body of his steed into a massive white lion, knocking it into a group of other Shadows. "There are too many. We cannot outlast them. We must leave now if we are to—"

"We need to find Her Majesty!" She shouted, looking around in an attempt to find her. A difficult task, as the fire brought smoke to limit vision, and everything was almost indistinguishable. "Damn it..! Let's move!"

Castor returned into her soul, and the headache she'd felt lessened. Summoning him took a lot more effort than she'd thought…

Breaking through the flames and arriving at the courtyard, countless elves were in battle against the Shadows. No, it was more a slaughter, and she swallowed down the bile in her throat as she ran ahead, screaming in her head as she could do nothing more but to apologize for her weakness.

Her blade was drawn and moved in a fluid motion, decapitating the head of a lion that was crushing a soldier beneath it. She continued to run forwards, cutting her way through the mobs that have blocked her path. And when too many stood blocking her…

Castor would come, her headache would grow threefold, and he would be able to sweep them apart with much ease.

"There she is!" He yelled, pointing off in one direction.

'Your Majesty..!' The small pang of relief and joy was translated into strengthened morale as she ran towards the group of elves that were surrounding the royal carriages. Silver hair disappeared into the vehicle. 'They're safe! I just need to reach them and—'

Metal tore through her abdomen as a spear poked right through her back, cutting off air in her system as she hacked, falling to the ground as pain lanced through her entire being.

No, no..! She was so close! She couldn't..!

Kizmel grunted, ignoring everything as she pushed one arms forwards, then her leg. It was becoming increasingly hard to see, her vision blurry as the image of the carriage in the distance gradually lost colour.

"You are foolish," her head snapped upwards, shock filling her at the sight of the Shadow actually talking to her. "What is destined cannot be changed, no matter how much you claw at that feeble trace of hope you see. What good comes from struggling so much, hmm?"

"Y-You…" Who was this? A human, it seemed, but unnaturally tall in white armour with a scarf. Those emotionless eyes were a tell-tale sign that what stared down at her was a Shadow, and nothing more.

"Watch, knight," he gazed away from her, to the carriages that had already begun moving away towards the forest. "Watch, as the will of our creator is enacted, and order is brought forth."

'No… No!' Fear racked her being as her head snapped back towards the carriage, her pleas becoming only weak gurgles. The weapon in her body made it hard to think. To do anything. 'Astra, don't! You can't die!'

The carriage had just begun to move, countless horsemen with bows ready to snipe down whatever stood in their way… before a massive being slammed its figure into the carriage that carried the royalty. She screamed as the king and queen were forcibly thrown out, their retainers and defenders were picked off, one by one, by blue-feathered beasts with lion heads.

The king had drawn his blade to fight the massive thing, ready to make his stand.

His sword struck true, but all it got him was a powerful punch to the jaw, killing him in an instant before bursting into crystal fragments.

What had Kizmel trained all these years for?

She was a knight who swore an oath that she would protect her queen and her people at all times. Yet now, she was reduced to a mess with a weapon in her back as she watched uselessly as… Kin-Ki… approached the crawling woman, lifting her into the air with one hand clasped tightly around her throat as she flailed uselessly.

And then, as the other hand reached for her head, Astra was no more.


7th January 2023—Aincrad. Floor 5, Dungeons

It hurt.

It hurt.

It HURT.

Kizmel was burning. Writhing as air was being pulled out of her lungs and something tight was wrapped around her throat. She'd barely noticed the way flames seemed to slither across the walls and ground, or how the eyes that popped out of the walls were all saying things.

Whispering, muttering, chanting.

It was all she could do but tune out every little detail for the claws that gripped her throat grew tighter, her vision blurring out as she struggled to remain consciousness, Kin-Ki seemingly content with watching her squirm weakly in whatever phantom had her in its grasp.

Yet, despite everything, her mind could only focus on one single thing.

She'd failed.

It couldn't be… All this time, she'd been trying to find a way to get back to the ninth floor to save Astra and the king. To ensure that peace could indeed be secured between both the Forest Elves and Dark Elves. That their rulers would be with them no matter what, and they would be able to move forwards together.

Yet all was for naught. Every soldier slain, both monarchs brutally killed and herself… lost. Without reason. Without purpose.

'What have I been fighting for..?' Had all her efforts amounted to this? To a crushing defeat at the hands of these dastardly Shadows? To a deathly recollection of the truth behind everything?

To lead her friends to their deaths? No, no… S-She, she couldn't just accept that…

"I must admit, I was surprised that one such elf had managed to escape, though it means nothing in the end," Kin-Ki's words were barely registered in her feeble mind, as bitter defeat crushed what remained of her will. "You'll be meeting your people soon enough. Once you die alongside your comrades, of course."

That's… That's for the best, isn't it? If there was nothing good coming out of this… then, then at the very least, she—

Castor comes forth from a burst of flames. But this time, they weren't blue.

Angry red fire spouted from beneath her feet.

There was nothing in the room anymore. Not the flames that ate away at the floors and walls, or even her friends who called out for her. No, all that she could see were dead bodies, spilt blood and her own failure.

Kizmel, for the second time in her life, snapped. Fled, as cowardice took her away from the people she loved once more.


Author's Notes:

Sorry for the Late update, with a capital 'L' there. Been busy here and there, but really, it's mostly because I wanted to get the next chapter prepared before I post this one. That's how I work, and I didn't think the next chapter was going yo take so long..!

Anyways, all of that aside, all is fine now. And on a side note; a brief spoilers for Persona 5 Royal, and a look into Persona 3. So be warned.

Personae are, essentially, just Shadows that a person can overcome and control. And Shadows are susceptible to going out of control. This has actually been demonstrated a couple of times.

Back in the original Persona 5, Crow has shown that he has the power to induce madness into Shadows to make them go berserk.

In Persona 5 Royal, when Violet experiences the heart-breaking recollection of her buried memories, her Persona goes berserk. Sure, Maruki does some stuff to her too, but essentially, her inability to accept the painful truth makes her Persona go berserk.

In Persona 3, the same occurs to Castor. I didn't play the game, nor did I watch the anime, but I did read up on the wiki a bit. And from what I do know, Castor went berserk during a SEES mission, which ended up with him destroying Ken's house. I don't know why it went berserk, but it did. It happened a second time, if I'm not mistaken.

So I'm kind of trying the same formula here, in case you can't tell. I wanted to add more scenes about Kizmel trying to recall little bits and memories, but I've essentially just rushed that part, so I missed my chance. Damn. Well, past is in the past. All we've got now is the present and the future.