DanMachi: An Ode to Dreams Yet Forgotten

by Manguino

[HIATUS] With the arrival of seven mysterious travellers from afar, a new cog fits into place, shifting the monotone spin of the world's hidden gears. However, whether the Adventurers of Orario will change to match that rhythm, be dragged along for the ride, or hopelessly fall out of tune will be for them to decide. [AU] [OC] [Rated M]

13. Chapter 12: A World on Fire

Disclaimer: DanMachi and its original characters are created and owned by Fujino Omori.

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Chapter 12: A World on Fire

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Her eyes remained transfixed on the letters inscribed on that little page. Her thumb brushed against those markings. But, even as much as she tried and focused, those words seemed to jump out at her, and they swam around in her mind, never seeming to settle.

She read those words over and over again— those letters that were inscribed long ago into those pages had partly faded— as if they were the scripts of some far-gone time— a time that had been lost.

Liaris Freese. Rapid Growth. Liaris Freese. Continued Desire; Continued Growth. Liaris Freese. Stronger Desire; Stronger Growth.

Liaris Freese.

Ais Wallenstein.

Liaris Freese.

Ais Wallenstein.

Liaris Freese; Ais Wallenstein; Desire; Ais Wallenstein; Desire; Liaris Freese—

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her forehead.

And then, her lips parted, and the words came out—

"Hey! You there!"

And she watched as that boy turned around to face her. His ruby red eyes darted around to look at her sapphire blue eyes. They remained there for many, long seconds before they shifted to the warm smile that she wore, then finally the hand she had outstretched.

His snow-white hair swayed in the gentle breeze that swept through the desolate, winding corridors of Daedalus Street. And he stood there, as if he were dumbfounded, or perhaps because he was confused; but his ruby red eyes watched and watched and watched without ever looking away— almost like it was something he'd never seen before.

And so, she waited there, patiently, with her soft, blue eyes like a tapestry of the sky and with her hand outstretched, never wavering even as the boy hesitated and kept his hands to himself, never reaching out.

Yet, he could feel the warmth that came from her— like a gentle flame— one that he had never known, or perhaps one that he had long forgotten and never truly had the chance to experience. But it was one he yearned for nonetheless; almost by pure instinct.

And so, with no more hesitation, he reached out to her, closing the distance between them. And as he approached, that gentle warmth grew closer and surrounded him in an embrace. He could feel the aches and pains that seemed to weigh him down and seemed to bury him be brushed away.

He was finally boundless.

The boy stared on with his ruby red eyes, fixated on that hand, and then on her blue eyes— that mesmerizing blue that was so different that his but ones that looked so beautiful and almost familiar. And, he couldn't help it, almost as if there was some greater power that forced it upon him, but a brave smile came to his face.

That was when their fingers touched— that was the day that started it all— them: their familia.

---

Its blade scraped against the floor— grinding against the rocks and allowing that screeching sound— like the wails of a banshee— to echo throughout the narrow, winding corridors.

It was limping forward, barely just hobbling onwards, supporting near its full weight on its right leg. Its arms dangled by its sides, filled with just enough strength to pull that thin blade along behind it. Its torso was covered with a thick, black cloth— the skin of several Skull Sheep it had defeated and stitched together.

Its eyes— that brilliant gold and that serene blue— fell upon the stairs before it. The tall steps were like a sheer cliff for it to scale, but it knew— almost instinctually— that whatever lay on the other side of those steps would be worth the perilous climb.

And so it went forth. Its bone rattled as it scaled that steep staircase. Its feet scraped against the cracked stone. Its blade trailed behind it, and it felt its grip tighten as if preparing for what lay above.

xxx

It lunged forward as its blade broke past the horns of the Armoured Ibex, piercing through its thick, metallic fur, plunging into its face. It went limp just a moment later, and as the Spartoi Warrior pulled its blade out of the monster's flesh, the defeated beast tumbled down the jagged, sheer cliffs, dissolving into a cloud of ash as it went.

Even still, it didn't have the time to breathe as more monsters approached. As a murder of Scarecrows was upon it, the ivory white lance became a blur, carving through the air in wide, pristine arcs. And although the ravens ripped through the air like arrows, the blade never ceased to find its mark, cutting through them with ease and shattering their magic stones upon impact.

However, the Warrior could not keep pace with the onslaught. The monsters' talons cut into the Skull Sheep fur, tearing it apart into shreds and eventually carving into its bones. They were small, yet they were just as deadly as anything else on these floors: with enough cuts, eventually, the deadly acid that coated their small razors would eventually corrode away at its body.

Nonetheless, the monster fought through the pain that wracked its body— the pain that nearly threatened to snuff out its life and causes it to fall right then and there. The wings of the crows were clipped as the blade cut them down time and time again and they settled into ash before being absorbed into the ground. Its feet— despite the rocks that cut into it and ground its bones to a fine powder— never stopped moving— never stopped carrying it forward towards to where it wanted—needed— to be.

Yes, because it wanted to keep on going up— where it knew it would find what it wanted. That gold was its salvation. It would find it and, whatever it was, it would take it and make it its own. It would conquer it like it would conquer everything else.

Its blade seemed to move faster with each passing second. Ash and debris fluttered around it as the monsters fell one-by-one, ripped apart by the blade's wicked edge. It met not resistance— and the tempo of its strikes mounted with each one it cut down, reaching an almost frightening speed— almost like a terrifying storm that tore through everything in its path—

And eventually, after what seemed like hours but was only a mere moment. There was nothing but only the smallest traces of a fight. The ash and debris that had settled around it had long since been absorbed back into the ground as if providing the sustenance for the next generations of monsters that would rise up and become its challengers.

Yet, it cared not. Because it would fight through anything. It would defeat anything that stood in the way of it reaching its goal— its salvation. No matter how long it took or what it took, it would. It would once more see that gold— and it would not let it out of its sight this time.

After a moment of respite, it was already continuing along its way. One foot in front of the other— step after step— it went forth. Its grip on the blade was strong and its eyes shone brighter than the light of the magic stones that covered the ceiling. The mist, which was like a thick blanket that refused to go away, twisting and folding around it and making the path ahead hazy, but this would not deter it.

Whatever was on the other side, it would be ready for it. All so that it could one day— eventually— find what it wanted. It would not stop no matter what stood in its way.

---

The harsh footfalls of her greaves against the jagged, rocky ground echoed throughout the small cavern.

It came regularly— loud and painfully slow— as if they were almost dragging themselves forward and struggling.

And yet, this was nothing more than falsehood.

Her golden hair whipped in some non-existent wind— in the wind that she conjured herself— that wrapped around her and acted as her own sword and shield that would vanquish any foe and monster as she so commanded.

And it did its job. Any monster foolish enough to approach her was ripped apart in mere seconds— though, they were few and far between. Even the monsters on the Upper Floors were smart enough to avoid her, even if it meant having to go against their primal instincts and hide. There was nothing they could do to defeat her. Those adventurers that seemed to admire and revere her everywhere she went would have to wait— the time would come when those monsters would be the hunters again.

She stopped just as she reached the end of the corridor. Her golden eyes fell upon the wall before her— the cracks and crevices within the wall— as if she was searching for something that wasn't there.

She could see the slight tinges of red out of the corner of her eyes, but upon closer inspection, they were merely a trick of the light. And as she knelt by the wall, pressing her fingers against the rocks that felt like broken glass, she saw a deep engraving, almost like something particularly heavy had slammed into this part of the wall.

Yet, there was nothing to be found there. Whatever she was searching for, it was as if it were merely something stuck within the back of her mind— a faded, long-gone memory— or perhaps a delusion and something else entirely.

Her golden eyes ran across those green-tinged walls once more, and she closed her eyes, trying to remember. But, after only a few moments, she sighed and finally looked away, her golden hair fluttering behind her as she went along, turning her back on the dead-end and navigating the caverns until she reached the stairs leading deeper into the Abyss.

xxx

The walls around her shifted from an almost earthy green into a soft, serene blue, and then to deep, mysterious violet. She felt her grip on the hilt of Desperate tighten as she listen to the silence that had settled around her.

She slowed to a stop just as she reached the end of the tunnel, stopping in the middle of a small cavern. As she bent over, crouching low and letting her gloved hand fall onto the loose gravel and rocks, she held it up in her fingers, grinding it to dust with her fingers.

As she brushed past that rubble, she picked up on something with her ears: a peculiar sound. One that was unnatural and man made. The soft echoes of a voice and the deep rumbles of a monster. She heard the sharp clangs of metal and rocks, but they were no more than the sound of the sand running through her fingers.

She was sure that it wasn't just that— that there was something more to it. That voice: it felt so distinct and rang so powerfully in her mind that she knew it must've been a memory of hers and yet she could not recall it. And she remained in that agony— of trying to remember but utterly unable to.

And so, she simply opted to stare longingly at that pile of rubble before letting it fall through the seams of her fingers. And then, she reached down, dragging her finger through the debris, aimlessly drawing patterns, in a daze.

They were nothing more than childish scribbles, and yet she couldn't help but be lost in them. She drew whatever came to her; whatever those words spoke to her and whatever she understood about them. They seemed to move, shifting and dancing, but she knew it was merely a trick of her mind— a figment of her imagination—

Her eyes came up as her hands immediately fell to the hilt of Desperate. She took a step back as she bent her knees low. Then, with her entire body, stepping forward and freeing the rapier from its scabbard, it went forward in one swift motion— a silver crescent— one that was precise enough to even split the air into two.

She saw only the small, pudgy face of the monster and the long, sharp ears that perked up slightly from the sound of her blade being unsheathed before her blade tore right through the center of its head through its torso— shattering the magic stone that laid within its white fur.

The body of the monster she killed fell limp by her feet, twitching for just a moment before it turned to ash and dust, fluttering against the slight breeze that surrounded her before settling back down to the ground and being absorbed back into the earth, where it would eventually be reborn as another monster.

Breathing out a pent-up breath, she sheathed her blade once more and took a step back. As she did so, she turned her gaze down to the floor, looking at those scribbles she made in the debris and gravel— those scribbles that were no more— now, just as what it was before: a loose patch of gravel, insignificant in any and every way possible— something that no one would care about when stepped over.

Letting her eyes linger for a few moments more, she turned away from it, spinning on her heels as she continued along her way. Descending to the floors below once more.

xxx

She took in a deep breath as she ducked under the overpass. The rocky, blue-tinged walls of the cavern opened up into an expansive field of green— lights in the sky twinkled with a soft blue, almost as if she were outside on the surface.

She strode forward with purpose, wading through the thick bushes and trees and stepping out onto the paved path. Small groups of Bugbears sat and slept together, feasting on the honey fruits that grew on this Floor of the Dungeon. Other monsters, like the Almiraj and Battle Boar, did the same, frolicking through the underbrush and leaping from tree to tree without a care in the world.

As they turned to look at her, as if puzzled, she averted her gaze. Her grip on Desperate tightened— for the first time since stepping foot on the 18th Floor— and she pressed her lips into a fine line. With her eyes firmly shut, she completed the rest of the journey from the outskirts of the Floor, allowing the small noises of the wind buzzing around her and brushing against the foliage to guide her forward— as well as her own battle-hardened instincts.

Her eyes only opened as she finally reached the end of the large forest. The green around her seemed to blend together, and she walked forward in a trance until she finally reached the other side— where the light shone through the trees. She brought a hand up to block out the light just as she exited the foliage, taking the steps up the small hills leading to Rivira.

She drifted through the streets of the City within the Dungeon as silent as a ghost, content with just looking around and not doing much. Of course, even still, many eyes were on her, and she would occasionally be stopped by passersby if only so they could be in awe of the esteemed Sword Princess.

The knowledge of her presence in Rivira spread through the small town like the wind. But just as quickly as the excitement came, it passed, too, just like the other Adventurers moved on, content with merely glancing from the sidelines and going about their own days. Whether that was to stop by for a quick exchange, take a rest before plunging back into the depths of the Dungeon, or return to the surface after a long journey down, the girl soon found herself alone with an airy, empty silence.

She wanted desperately to continue downwards on her journey— one that she had made so many times in the past weeks— yet she couldn't help but find herself taking a deep breath as she stood on the small, cozy veranda overlooking the massive expanse of trees and brush and magic stone formations that littered the Under Resort.

She leaned against the railing. Her golden eyes swept across the lush and bountiful green and the delicate and gentle blue, and she could feel the wind brush through her hair: like loose, golden threads of only the finest silks.

And it carried voices as well. Long-gone, far-away voices that once spoke amicably about nothing in particular: about the small joys and wonders and facets of life, without a care in the world. She tried to listen in on that conversation, but they were hazy to her, almost as if the words shared between them were private and not for her.

So, after a while, she simply stopped listening to those voices, and instead simply allowed herself to relax. The breeze calmed her down; she felt all of that, and she knew that it would all be okay— that everything that has been will be— and that nothing would ever change that.

---

She rested her chin in her palm as her sapphire blue eyes danced across the pages. The small, freshly made scribbles on the small, tattered notebook in front of her seemed to jump out at her. Yet, even as she filled page after page of the small thing, she felt she could still write more— she felt as though she had yet to truly say everything that swam around in that mind of hers.

A storm of disjointed thoughts and emotions that she had no control over. She felt like she wanted to write it all down in case she forgot and also so that she could get it out of her system, but she also didn't want to crowd that little notebook with nonesense. It was a precious thing to her— and most certainly something she didn't want to crowd with stuff that wasn't important.

Perhaps when she was able to get a grasp on those thoughts that bounced around in her skull, she would finally jot them down— that would be the day when she'd be free of all of those emotions and she was excited for that day: the day when she'd be liberated of everything that made her happy and blue and worried, but most of all excited.

Almost as if right on cue, she heard the floorboards above her head creak and groan and the small trapdoor that led down from the abandoned church to their little basement-dwelling was eased open. She could hear the heavy footsteps that approached and she closed the notebook as she got up from her seat on the couch.

And a moment later, she came face-to-face with the boy. Her sapphire blue eyes met his ruby red irises, and they held each other for a moment before she finally allowed her gaze to wander.

The wide and almost childish smile on his face was unwavering, even despite the dark-purple spots on his face and the slightly awkward way he stood on his feet. It was a smile that shown as bright as the sun yet she didn't want to look away.

The guts and insides of monsters stained his tunic and also the chest plate and small knife he had loaned from the Guild. Other than that, though, they still seemed to be in good condition. He seemed to be a little bit uncomfortable in it, though, but that was to be expected. It was only his first day; he'll grow into it in time, she supposed.

She took a step towards him as he, too, approached.

"Welcome home. How was the Dungeon? Was it alright? Did you run into any trouble? Did you get hurt?"

An almost unstoppable torrent of questions came from her lips as she took the knife and small leather pouch of valis from his hands and set them on the table.

"I don't know," was his answer, with that same childish smile on his face, almost like he couldn't stop smiling. "I'm not sure. I mean, I've encountered some monsters before on the surface." Like her, the words seemed to come out nonstop, almost as if he couldn't help but talk. "Did I tell you about that time when I was ambushed by a Goblin while exploring the forest near my house and I was saved by Gramps…?"

He fell quiet as she helped him unstrap the bindings on his chest plate, lfting it with a heave and setting it on the table as well. Then, she did the same to his shinguards and pauldrons, setting them all down on the table as he fell back onto the couch.

"Yes, I think I've heard that one before. So does that mean…?"

Almost like a switch within him was flicked back on, he began talking again, almost like what had happened was inconsequential— or mayhaps he was merely forcing those thoughts away. Whatever was the case, she was just glad that the boy was talking because it meant that, at the moment, at least, that he was happy.

"Yeah, yeah! At first, it was a little bit scary, and I got hit a few times, but still…" she set down a small bucket of water as she pressed a damp towel against his face, trying to soothe the bruises. "Well, I mean, it's just a few Goblin, so I guess it's not that big of a deal, but…"

She snorted and puffed out her chest. "Nonsense! Defeating a Goblin is perhaps the most important feat of any beginning adventurer! That is merely the first step of an incredible journey to the top!"

His eyes seemed to sparkle even brighter when she said that. "Uh-huh, uh-huh!"

"That means you're already on your way to glory, Bell!" She hopped up onto her feet and pumped her fist into the air. "Let's both do our best!"

---

It felt the sand brush past its tattered Skull Sheep cloth as it scanned its eyes around the vast desert that surrounded it. In the distance, it could see massive cliffs that broke out from the otherwise flat, meandering dunes. Littered around, small clumps of Cacti monsters stood firm in the blazing heat from the bright, orange crystals dangling from the high ceiling like stalactites. In the distance, small shapes were few and far between, but it knew that they were all obstacles for it to overcome.

It felt its grip tighten around the hilt of its thin weapon— one that it had fought alongside for only a measly, few days, and yet it felt as though it trusted the blade with its life. Almost like it knew that that weapon would become its own lifeblood.

Flocks of Gryphons flew overhead, and it could feel the piercing eyes of those birds of prey staring into its back— it almost instinctually knew what those monsters were thinking. If it even let down its guard for a single moment, it knew that it would be a grave mistake.

And so it didn't. Its joints locked rigidly as it paced through the blazing heat of the desert.

Even still, it knew that those Gryphons weren't the only things to be careful about. The other monsters that hid and were waiting only looked at it with hostility— those eyes reflecting that feral instinct to protect themselves from the unknown.

It was alien here. It knew that— for certain.

Not only because it was not where it was supposed to be, but because of something else. That a Spartoi Warrior such as it was up here in the Great Desert— that it was something new. That was not why those monsters look at it like this— with those eyes.

They did not fear it because it was stronger than them. They feared it because it was different than them— not like them— not like anything. Because it was unknown and dangerous. Which meant that it would only cause more harm than good. Which meant that it must be something condemnable.

There wasn't anything for it here— there wasn't anything anywhere for it, and yet for some reason, it felt as though there was— an inkling of a past memory: as if it had been here before and that there was something for it to see and remember.

Its grip tightened on the hilt of its makeshift blade, just as it felt something approach from behind.

Spinning on its heels, the blade came around in a flash of ivory white, in an upwards crescent, cleaving through the face of the Sphinx that had pounced. The monster's stone body was carved into two— cleanly split down the middle— as the magic stone that lay within shattered upon impact. As the felid fell to the sand, as if merging with it, it vanished in a puff of dust and debris, fluttering into the air and disappearing without a trace.

It was sure there was something and it felt restless, wanting so desperately to find it— to remember it. But until that time came, only this blade here, and these imaginary yet strong muscles that were sculpted not only in this life but in the life previous and even the ones that came before that, were here for it. Those memories, although hazy and disjointed and sorely lacking, were here, and they would always be here.

In its muscle— and it would guide it forward for as long as it wished— until it found what it was searching for.

It turned around as it heard the thundering steps of a monster from behind it. Yet another Sphinx pounced, and it raised its blade. With its entire body, it rose to meet the monster, parrying the sharp claws that descended before launching a counterattack, piercing the lance into its chest almost without resistance.

However, this time, another monster approached right after it, and a Gryphon descended, its body slamming into where the Spartoi was just a mere second ago— missing its mark.

Spinning on its heels, the warrior brought its weapon around in several rapid thrusts, each one clipping the wings of the powerful monster. Feathers fluttered away and turned to dust as they were cut off, leaving the bird hybrid flightless.

Even still, the Gryphon was a force to be reckoned with, and it brought its powerful paws down in devastating arcs, forcing the warrior onto the defensive. It parried blow after blow, dodging each with balanced and precise footwork even in the shifting sands of the Great Desert.

The monster snarled and snapped its beak. Its slitted eyes— those of a predator— bore into the warrior, but it would not be intimidated by that gaze.

It leapt and dove to the side just as another Grpyhon descended, cutting a gash into the sand and sending a wave of debris into the air as it dragged its talons against the ground.

As it came to its feet, it raised its blade, brandishing its edge before lunging forward. It brought the blade around in a downwards strike, but it backed off almost immediately as the attack was parried, which allowed the Gryphons to launch a combined counterattack, pushing the warrior even further back.

Nonetheless, it would not be deterred, and even as it held a defensive stance, it matched the pace of the two hybrid monsters bearing down on it— the ivory white blade in its hands became a blur as it moved with inhuman, pristine precision, parrying each and every blow that came its way.

It was waiting for that one opportunity— for that opening when—

And it found it— as the warrior strafed out of the way of one attack, the blade came up for a parry and then a riposte. The Spartoi Warrior, with an almost airy spring in its step, lunged forward, with the wicked point of its blade piercing through the head of the Gryphon, causing it to go limp against the sand.

Then, as the second one came to avenge its brethren, the warrior was ready. With fleet footwork and sheer finesse, it weaved through the devastatingly fast blows that came its way.

The blade came around, carving an arc through the air, and ripping through the tough body of the Gryphon, tearing open its chest, and with it, the magic stone that lay beneath.

The monster turned to dust a moment later, and just a few seconds after that, the former monster turned to dust as well as the Spartoi Warrior drove its weapon through the beast's chest.

Now, with a sense of serenity that spread throughout the Great Desert, the warrior felt the hot breeze sweep through its body and surrounding it. The tattered Skull Sheepskin cloth fluttered in the gentle breeze and it could feel the wind rattle its bones. But then, that was when it heard it—

Those powerful stomps reverberated throughout the sand. It could feel it shake the bones in its body— even more so than the wind that surrounded it. It raised its blade into a defensive guard and it turned to the source of those footsteps.

A cloud of dust in the distance approached and the warrior felt itself take a step back, anchoring itself to the shifting sands below.

Then, it finally came, like a meteor falling from the sky, and it barely had time to hold up its blade in time before that crimson red descended upon it with a bone-shattering impact.

It was sent flying through the air, skidding against the sand before filling coming to a stop. As it jumped to its feet, it brandished its blade, holding it out defensively against the snarling monster that approached. The reptile snapped its jaw, pointing its crimson red eyes at the warrior. The vermillion scales on the back of its body glinted in the harsh, orange glow of the fake sky.

However, even when facing the large, lumbering monster that stood as tall as a mountain before it, the warrior did not retreat. It stood its ground, with its weapon in hand, staring down those crimson eyes with its own gold and blue irises.

Let those memories become muscle. And let those muscles give it the strength it needs to overcome and become even stronger. It need not help. Merely, trust, in its own muscles and in those memories that will become the dreams that guide it forward.

---

Lying down on the sofa, she clutched the small notebook to her chest. Just a little distance away, Bell had already drifted to sleep, the soft, rhythmic sound of his light snoring was almost like a clock to which she counted sheep.

Her bright, sapphire blue eyes pierced the dark room— only the soft, humming candlelight beside her offering light. She stared blankly at the ceiling, as if in a daze— as if she were deep in thought— and she was.

She rolled onto her side, shifting her gaze over to that flickering yet ever-burning candle.

"No, no, no… there's nothing special about this. It's just some silly crush, after all. He'll get over it soon." She felt the frown on her face deepen. "Besides, what's so special about this Wallen-what's-it anyway? Surely if it had been any other woman had been in her place, he would have fallen for them all the same! That's right, it's just some silly crush; he'll get over it soon…"

She felt herself let out a pent-up breath, and she lifted up the notebook in her arms, flipping through and skimming the pages, even in the little light afforded to her. She ran her eyes across those marks on the page.

And she kept on going, reading through all of the things she's written. Some of it brought a smile to her face and sometimes made her laugh, even. Other times, it made her a little bit wistful, and she ground her teeth in frustration at some of the things she recalled.

Yet, eventually, she reached the end, where the next chapter had yet to be written. She brought her hand to her face, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and swung herself up on the couch, sitting up over the table. Taking hold of the small piece of pointed charcoal, she began making her mark on the blank canvas— drafting up the next chapter of the story she had been writing— one that she will write until the end of time.

"I mean, it's not like there's anything wrong with it, I guess… if, of course, it turns out that it isn't just some silly crush… but still…"

And she vented out all of her thoughts and feelings onto those pages. Her hand slid across the canvas, gliding and unstoppable as all of those letters and words and sentences and paragraphs spilled out.

"I think everything will be alright, though. I think he'll be alright. Maybe one day he'll give up on that goal and realize it was all some silly dream. Or mayhaps he'll keep chasing those dreams and make them a reality—"

Finally, the pen stopped, and she took in a deep breath, releasing it just a moment later.

"Regardless… no matter what… it doesn't matter. Because I'll be here. Through the ups and downs on his journey. Whether he finds himself pursuing a new goal, or if he comes against walls that stand in his way and make his climb towards the summit arduous, I'll be here."

A smile came to her face as she set the small piece of charcoal down. She read through the marks she had just made— the new chapter of her story—

"I want to always be here. For me, for him, for anyone else we might meet on our journey together. I want to always be here and never leave. No matter what."

---

The small, ragtag group waded through the marshes of the 29th Floor, pushing past the thick brush that stood in their way. Small bugs buzzed in the air as they dashed around, hoping to afflict the invaders with their deadly ailment. Nonetheless, those pesky monsters attacked in vain as the strong warriors easily avoided and defeated them, striking them down with inhuman precision from the very air.

Eventually, they found the path that led down— they could feel the heat that radiated from the other side of the tunnel. The water that rushed past their feet seemed to disappear into the orange glow of what lay beyond the few rocks that framed the gateway leading down.

They were on a mission. Partly of their own design and also partly in the steed of someone else. Whatever lay beyond is certainly uncertain and mayhaps dangerous. Yet they were ready for it.

And then, almost without hesitation, they descended, plunging further into the depths.

xxx

The warrior brushed its hand along the rough, sandstone walls of the cavern in which it paced. Its fingers dug into the cracks and crevices of the wall, tracing them as if it had sensed that those wild engravings had some sort of meaning baked into them. Alas, they did not, and yet that did not stop it from trying to decipher them. Its gold and blue eyes never left that deep void that it saw beneath those cracks.

Eventually, its aimless wandering brought it to the end of the cavern, and it felt the heat that radiated from the other side and the orange glow against its face. Instinctively, it brought the cloth down deeper over its face, hiding it in the shadows.

It finally turned its gaze away from those cracks that it had found such interest in, and although it faced the light and basked in it, it hid from it all the same.

xxx

They seemed to move as one— seemingly in a choreographed dance as they fought against the monsters that came their way. Sphinxes were shattered and ground to dust, Gryphons were cut out of the sky and vanquished, and powerful, raging lions were quelled— conquered.

The battles were over in an instant; that was simply how strong they were— both individually and as a group. And once the dust settled, they continued along their way, wandering through the meandering dunes, searching aimlessly for something.

xxx

The blade had never felt heavier in its arms, and yet it wielded it with such inhuman precision and technique that it almost seemed inconsequential. Wherever it wished, the ivory white was there in a flash, deflecting blows from the claws of Sphinxes or cutting down the needles of Dungeon Cacti.

Whatever challenges came its way, it was prepared. Its muscles were sore yet they also felt stronger than they have ever been. It felt as if it could take on the world.

And that feeling was exhilarating.

xxx

They continued their advance through the Great Desert. Even as Sandstorms blocked their path and Blood Mosquitoes attacked them in swarms, they never stopped.

The sooner they found what they were looking for the better. They could tell that something was happening in the Dungeon and they would rather retreat into the shadows sooner rather than later.

xxx

The heat of the fake sky and sun turned the dunes into a haze. It seemed to swim in its vision, and yet, as the warrior looked to the horizon with its gold and blue eyes, it saw little shapes in the distance— unfamiliar shapes and shapes that signalled danger— and, in its curiosity, it went forth.

xxx

They could see the skeletal warrior in the distance— one that was not supposed to be here on the 30th Floor. That was when they knew they'd found what they were searching for. They surged forward as they saw it approach.

xxx

The warrior watched those shapes grow closer. It could feel its grip tighten on the hilt of its blade and it could feel its muscles tense up.

xxx

They slowed to a stop as the Lizardman that led them raised his hands high above his head, showing the skeletal warrior that he had no intention to draw his weapon and fight. It approached slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. The careful and experienced eye of the Lizardman studied the Spartoi Warrior; at a glance, it could tell that it was stronger than what was usually expected of a new Xenos, though certainly no exception.

Then: "we are not here to fight", he said, "we were notified about some activity in the Dungeon recently and came to investigate. Now that we've found you, we wish to welcome you to our family— the Xenos."

The Spartoi Warrior gave no reply, merely standing there with its vice grip on its blade.

"Do you understand me? Can you understand the words?" The Lizardman inched closer, still with his hands up and drew attention to them, trying to communicate through actions. "We aren't here to fight; we won't hurt you. We are just like you."

Ever closer the two sides went.

"We're here to help you. We want you to join us— our family— so that we can work together to reach the Surface."

The two sides came to a standstill; two meters separated them.

"Have you met the Surface Dwellers yet? Or maybe in a past life? Do you remember them? They are not quite the same as us, but we and them are more similar than other monsters." The Lizardman's eyes met the Spartoi Warrior's and he could instinctually grasp the answer to his questions. "For a long time we and they have fought, but we are working to change that. And we can only do it if we all work together. Maybe in a past life they've hurt you and caused you pain, but I— we— ask that you forgive. Certainly not forget, because all of us know the importance of those memories—"

"I…" The deep growl of the warrior interrupted the Lizardman. "...the Surface…" it raised its blade, brandishing its pristine edge. "I… find this one… the one… with Golden Blade…"

"Yes! We can reach the Surface. We can live on the Surface, too! And we can live alongside the humans and be friends with them… and you can find whatever it is you seek. That…" it hesitated, "Golden Blade, you say…?"

"Can't… wait… no… wait…" This time, the warrior closed the distance between it and the Lizardman. "Reach… Surface… when…?"

He faltered again. "Soon. Very soon. We have a lot of people helping us— strong people and good people who have sacrificed themselves before for our sakes. We are in their debt and we should be repaying them, and yet they wish to be our equals and work alongside us. They've chosen to trust in us and we trust them, too. I know they'll be able to do it; we just need to wait a little while longer and do everything we can—"

"My trust… is here…" the warrior crossed its blade over its magic stone— over its heart. "I don't need someone else… I don't need someone… save me…"

Its grip tightened around the hilt of its blade.

"I need myself… and this…"

It raised its blade, challenging them— as if threatening the Lizardman and his allies to stop it.

"With… memories… and muscle… I fight…"

---

"It turns out that there have been many things that have been happening without my knowledge for some time. I guess now I know why Bell had been getting up so early to go to the Dungeon recently— because he wasn't at all!"

With her hands in her lap, Hestia sat cross-legged, leaning against the side of Orario's Walls as she watched the boy sidestep the blows that came his way. The girl was like an unstoppable tempest that bore down on him. Each step that he took was just mere seconds too slow, and he took hit after hit, yet he never wavered once.

"I was mad— I guess I still am. But now that I see it, I also feel a little bit at ease, now that I've found out. Yet it also worries me a little and makes me a little bit paranoid about all of the other things I might've forgotten."

The scabbard came and struck him in the gut and he stumbled back. Yet, he regained his balance and raised his guard, never backing down even as the girl came in for another blow.

"He's a beginner, yet in my own haste to start a familia, I had not equipped him with nearly enough to brace the Dungeon. Had he been okay? Maybe… and perhaps that was because of a stroke of luck, but I knew for certain— at that moment— that had that girl… had that girl who I hated for almost no reason at all… not helped him in a way that I could never, then mayhaps I would have lost him…"

She watched as the boy was finally struck to the ground. He writhed awkwardly as he lay against the cold, stone pavement. And even as he tried to get up— as he tried to force strength into his muscles so that he could stand back up with his head and fists held high, he could not.

"Although I had given him a chance to fight, I had never given him the chance to fight. There is only so much the blessing I gave to him could accomplish. There is only so much that strength can do without technique and skill. There is only so much that he could do alone."

She got up onto her feet and felt her legs wobbling from under her. She held onto the parapet of the wall before finally finding the strength to approach the boy and help him up onto his feet.

"As much as I hate to say it— as much as I don't like it and would much rather things be different— there are simply some things that I can't do or change."

Her sapphire blue eyes met the girl's golden irises, and their gazes held each other for a brief moment.

"I hate you, Ais Wallenstein. Because I envy you. Because there's only so much that I can do to help him— the boy I love and care for."

The frown she had on her lips quivered— if only for an instant— blooming into a hidden smile.

"I hate you, and I will always hate you because you are who I can't be. And it makes me so, so sad, yet also glad. And I'm not sure what hurts more."

---

Its foot found purchase on the cold, tiled, stone floor. Cloth draped over its body, and a deep hood cast a long shadow over its face, hiding it from the harsh light that surrounded it.

This was not the right place for it— it was sure of it here even more than when it was down there— but it knew that its journey for its dream would not come without struggle and trials. This was merely one of them as far as it was concerned.

And so, it walked forward. And although the bones that rattled beneath that cloak shook and trembled— in excitement, a little bit of fear, and most certainly in tension— it felt as if it were truly alive at this moment: like this was why it had been granted the life it had.

It knew that this was the life it wanted to live; this was a life truly worth living for.

Tak. Tak. Tak. Tak.

Its feet clicked against the ground with a steady rhythm. Figures streamed past it within its periphery— almost as if they were meaningless or inconsequential to it, though it kept a close eye on them, ensuring they would not stand in its way.

But that was when it made its first blunder. As it made its way out into the sun still gleaming overhead, it failed to notice the owl that took into the sky, disappearing without a trace as if into thin air.

---

"Lyd has notified me about the situation, which is now entirely out of their control. Nonetheless, I have managed to pick up where they left off and made contact with the target. How shall I proceed, my Lord?"

The booming voice came just a moment later, issuing its command.

"Well, there's only one other option left. Notify Bell Cranel about the situation— covertly. I would like things to remain as quiet as possible— even from the rest of Hestia familia, if possible."

Then, the voice came to an abrupt end, yet the robed one did not move, for it could sense that its Master had yet to finish his musings, though it turned out to be nothing more than pointless musings.

"There's something I would like to see; you will give me the means to do so."

And now, finally finished, the robed one bowed, dipping its hood to the ground.

"It shall be done."

---

"I'm a little bit afraid. If something wrong happens, I don't know what we might do. Everything that they've worked hard to accomplish up until now might get destroyed."

It was ghastly quiet within the Hearth Mansion. It was near impossible for anyone to go outside at the moment, though Welf, Mikoto, Haruhime, and Lili definitely fared far better than Bell.

"I hate it… the way that they all looked at him— like he had done something wrong— but he didn't do something wrong! Because what's so wrong about helping someone in need? What's so wrong about saving someone in danger? What's so wrong about protecting someone who was innocent?"

She paced around her room: her soft footfalls the only thing that she heard in the drear silence of the empty halls and rooms.

"Even still, I think Bell is okay with all of that. Of course, it must hurt for him, but he'll weather through it just like he always has… I'm sure everything was just like it was back then: when he was still a novice adventurer with nothing to his name, he overcame that; and then when we reached level 2, he endured all of the criticism that came his way and kept trying his best. Even when we were attacked by Apollo and he was faced with a seemingly insurmountable wall— not only in the people he had to fight and defeat but also in those people that never believed he could do it—"

She stopped and cupped her forehead with her hands. Pressing her fingers against her temple, she felt a sigh escape her lips.

"But it's not the same this time around. Bell has us— his familia— one that has grown so much since when we first began… and he'll always have us by his side and always having his back… but—"

She couldn't shake off those memories. They were not long-forged memories, but rather memories as fresh as fallen snow.

"Those eyes… those golden eyes and that contempt and… disappointment… and anger…Yes, it's different this time around…"

She took a deep breath, and then let it out. Just then, the sound of twinkling church bells rang in her ears and swallowed. A ghastly whisper escaped from her lips:

"It's time…"

"But… mayhaps once everything is done and dusted— and once everything is behind us— things will become the same again. Because even through that contempt and disappointment and anger, I saw something that Bell had not."

Easing her door open, she made her way downstairs, where she could hear the hushed voices of her familia gathering together.

"I hate you, Ais Wallenstein. Because I know that what I saw was not a lie. Because I know that no matter what happens, both you and Bell will remain unshakeable— and become stronger than before.

---

Leaning against the backrest of his chair, Bell flipped the page over, his eyes tracing the black ink that had been etched into it.

There was an eerie silence that surrounded him— and yet it felt somehow comforting.

However, as his eyes drifted away from the page, he noticed the peculiar flash of white that brushed past his window out of the corner of his eyes, and he felt himself more intrigued by that than by the book in his hands. Almost without hesitation, he closed it, letting it fall to his desk.

His eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched up, and as he finally reached the window and opened it, that thing returned, perching on the windowsill and staring at him with its beady eyes— that blue and yellow that were unmistakable to him— and he watched as the owl raised its left leg, brandishing the small pouch that had been strapped to it.

As Bell reached inside of the bag, he saw the familiar glow and pattern of the oculus, and he picked it up delicately in his fingers, bringing it to his lips and uttering a question into it— to the other side where he knew that person was listening.

"Fels, what is this about?" He asked. "Why are you contacting me? Did something happen with Lyd and Wiene and the others?"

There was silence for a moment, but unlike the silence from before, it was unnerving. His heart beat in his chest as the frown on his lips deepened.

That silence seemed to last for an eternity, but the words that came muddled through the oculus served to relieve him— if only for an instant.

"No, they are all fine. Please do not worry, Bell. Nonetheless, Lord Ouranos has a specific request to ask of you— for your assistance."

The frown returned to his face and he furrowed his brows. "Why like this? Why not send the Hestia familia a mission?" He stopped for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Regardless, I thought you said the Xenos were fine. What is this about?"

"Yes, I will give you a quick briefing on the situation. It does indeed involve them, though they are fine, I promise. They were tracking down a particularly new but strong Xenos. They were able to meet up with it: the Xenos seemed to be able to talk— Lyd predicted that this monster must've had prolonged contact with humans in its previous life because of this. However, once they met the monster, it was completely unresponsive to their fellowship— in fact, it had outright rejected the idea of joining the collective Xenos."

There was a pause.

"I hope you understand where I'm going with this."

"How far up has the monster made it? Did someone in Rivira spot it? The Upper Floors?"

There was another pause— that same unnerving silence.

"It has made it to the surface, which is why Lord Ouranos has requested your urgent assistance. My Lord has many allies in his fight to aid the Xenos, but only the Hestia familia— and most importantly Bell Cranel— would be willing to undertake this endeavour."

Bell sighed. "Yes, I think I understand the gravity of the situation and the risk associated with it." He brought his hand to his forehead, rubbing it.

The voice on the other side did not say anymore, and the boy merely took that as an indication that it was his turn now.

"Alright, I'm on my way," he said as he stepped over to his chest, bringing out his vambrace and fitting the oculus into the notch, slipping it onto his forearms. He worked with practiced deft, strapping down the pieces of his arm— the chest plate, pauldrons, faulds, and greaves, all the while commanding orders to the other side.

"Will the owl guide me to the monster? Where is it now?"

"Yes, the owl shall lead the way. I was able to observe the monster for a while as it exited Babel, it seemed to be smart enough to realize it was out of place on the surface."

This caused his eyebrows to rise. "Yet it chose to remain?"

"Lyd mentioned something about this; it seems the monster is searching for something. What, though, was never elaborated upon."

"I see."

And he continued the rest of his preparations in silence. The Hakugen was strapped to his chest piece under his right arm. The Hestia Knife, conversely, fit itself on the opposing side.

"Alright, I'm ready to go. Let's get this done."

---

He navigated the winding corridors of Daedalus Street, even through all of the snow that fluttered around him and made everything blend together into one. The owl that led him forward was lost in the storm, but that did not deter him, and he listened to the subtle flap of its wings and the occasional hoot it made to find the path forward.

"A smart Xenos, certainly, if it found and made the decision to seek refuge in Daedalus Street." He gritted his teeth into a grin. "I wonder if it's regretting coming out during this weather?"

And his musings which he half-used to distract himself from the biting cold finally came to a stop as he crawled into a small cubby leading into an abandoned part of what would have likely been a small warehouse.

He shifted his gaze around, his eyes accustomed to the dark enough that he could see even despite the lack of light. He kept his footsteps as quiet as possible and lowered his own body. There was a spring in his steps and a tenseness around his chest— no matter what happens, he would be ready. If the monster had been able to bypass Lyd and his team, then it was clear that it was not something to be trifled with.

And that was when he remembered those words that the Lizardman that had come to be his great and close friend had imparted upon him long ago when they first met. He remembered how he hadn't taken those words so seriously back then but he has since then understood the true weight and meaning behind those words. They weren't necessarily that deep but they nonetheless carried a powerful message for him— a warning, in fact.

He felt a prick on his neck, and instantly his right hand fell onto the hilt of Hakugen.

The blade scraped against the scabbard as it was drawn— a deafening screech, yet one that was drowned out by the drumming of his heart within his ears—

The Hakugen traced a white arc through the air, stopping just as it approached its intended target. At the same time, another flash of light approached him, and he saw it getting thinner and getting closer until it, too, stopped right before his eyes.

The tip of the ivory white needle trembled just a few inches away from him, as did the sharpened edge of his dagger against the monster's chest.

The owl gave a hoot in alarm, taking flight and beating its wings wildly before settling back down, perching itself just a few meters away from the two locked in a deadly standstill.

His ruby red eyes met the soft blue and gold glow behind those empty sockets, and he narrowed his gaze.

The thing did the same, and yet, there was another underlying emotion hidden even within that void.

"I see…" it uttered out, and the boy merely pressed his lips into a thin line, hearing the monster speak. "... yes, you are one of them…"

He raised his eyebrows in confusion. "I'm sorry—?"

"The people in my dreams… I knew they were real… I knew I could find them…"

"Have we met before?"

"Yes, but that is inconsequential…" it stopped, taking a step back and retracting its blade. Bell did the same, retreating just the same. "There is but one reason for our meeting."

And then, after a brief pause, it spread its arms out wide, as if to gloat to the boy—

"Here I am…"

With his jaw locked tight, Bell narrowed his eyes, pointing his red gaze at the skeletal warrior, peering right into those deep, and almost boundless sockets.

"I said I would, didn't I? By my own strength and by my own will; by my own, only."

Bell hummed. "That you are. And what have you gained now that you've reached the surface? And what have you lost, in turn?"

This made the warrior falter for a bit, and it allowed its arms to fall to its side. It tilted its gaze up as if it were truly contemplating that question. Then:

"Almost as much as you did."

A grin crept onto the boy's face as he heard that. "Had." He repeated it, "had. A crucial distinction."

"I suppose… but I remember it clearly— that look on your face and the weight you carried upon your shoulders during our fight."

"Then why would you make the same mistake as me?"

"Because there is yet more that I must do. There is another I must meet— and I know I can only find it up here. It's something that I must do; it is the reason for my being. It is my dream."

The boy didn't respond for a while. He pursed his lips, allowing the monster's words to settle into his mind, heart, and soul. And then: "will it be worth it?"

There was a pause, and the warrior did not speak for a few moments.

Then, with a creak and groan, its jaw opened: "I think so… I would hope, at least."

---

Resting against a rotting, wooden crate, he pressed his palms together as he took in a deep breath.

And then let it out. And then back in again, and then out.

His eyes were shut, and he exhaled a final breath, feeling his thoughts clear out and his heartbeat remain steady.

He forced a smile onto his face as his eyes fluttered open, gazing up at the darkness that surrounded him— the empty darkness— where he was alone.

"The last time we met, I listened to your story. So, then, this time, might you listen to mine?"

With a groan, he stood up onto his shaky knees, feeling the blood that had nearly frozen in his legs begin circulating once more.

"Do not forsake those you've made bonds with; do not forsake those you can make bonds with."

He stretched his arms across his chest, feeling himself warm up.

"I was once like that: I thought that that was the only way to be myself— the best version of myself— the version of myself that I would be proud of and others would be proud of. I learned it the hard way that it was the other way around— that I was wrong."

That forced smile persisted on his face, and this time, he scoffed a little, as if he found it a little bit funny.

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be independent or self-sufficient, and you may very well survive as you are now, but know that no one can thrive like that."

"I guess it's out of luck that I ended up bringing my weapons and armour." But that smile was quickly replaced by a frown. "Luck… certainly."

With one last sigh, he made his way over to the small gap in the wall that led out into the barren passageways of Daedalus Street.

"The Xenos are all people I can feel sympathy towards— and I feel that there's a need to help them because they need help and are willing to receive it and are grateful for it. Someone of them, still, I can feel empathy towards— I can relate to them and their struggles because they were once also struggles that I've faced or struggles that I've seen those I care about overcome."

A puff of smoke escaped his lips as he felt his cheeks flush. He felt the blood pumping through his body even despite the cold that ravaged him.

"And you are no exception. You and I are more similar than we both truly expected— both good and bad."

He felt his fist tighten into a fist.

"So, for you and me both, this time, let me be there for you."

His lips pressed into a fine line and his brows furrowed resolutely.

The last time we met, we fought. This time, let's do it differently. This time, I promise: I'll save you."

---

The pages of the notebook fluttered open as she took the quill in her right hand. Dipping the tip into the bottle of ink, she pressed it into the rough surface of the page, stopping as she did so.

And she remained there— motionless— for a while. As the blotch of ink grew and spread across the page, dying it a deep black, she pressed her fingers into her temple.

Then, almost as if a lightning bolt had struck through her, she felt a tingle down her spine, and her hand was set into motion— gliding along the page with a practice rhythm and choreography.

"I recently heard someone tell a story. It wasn't a happy tale; it was actually rather quite sad and tragic. It was a story that made me cry and filled me with such dread, and yet it was a story that felt so powerful to me— perhaps because of the magic the storyteller weaved into his tale."

The words seemed to pour out of her: unstopped.

"Yes, it's indeed a tragic tale, and perhaps one that should never be written, and yet I feel obligated to do so. To serve as a record for such a sad story, but also to serve as a memory— one that may invariantly be forgiven but not forgotten."

Finally, she stopped, though the ink still flowed from her pen.

"No, a correction: one that will definitely be forgiven but not forgotten."

A smile came to her face.

"I may not be a fortune-teller, but I can attest to this with all of my heart and being— almost as if it would be fate."

And those happy tears fell.

"They are strong. They have always been strong. And they will always continue to be strong. They are unshakeable: he needs her just as she needs him. And while their paths may split, they will soon inevitably converge again once they are both stronger."

---

The monster trudged forward in the deep snow. The cloak was tightly wrapped around its body, but even then the cold wind seemed to invade it.

Even still, it held tightly onto the blade in its hand, and it kept on moving forward, wading through the snow and ice— with urgent purpose.

All the while, the words from that boy echoed and bounced around in its empty skull, going nowhere yet staying around in the most uncomfortable way.

It groaned as it pressed his hand against his head, lifting up— just slightly— the hood that shielded it from the world— that protected it against these people that were foreign to it and would certainly attack it if they learned of the truth behind that hood.

It watched the sparkle in their eyes and the ways their faces moved. It watched the ways their bodies moved as they held each other and walked next to each other. Some of the bigger ones held the little ones' hands. Others looked so deeply into each other's eyes and smiled so lovingly, that it somehow instinctively knew what love was. And the rest were content with the small space between them: yet even in that space, there was camaraderie and closeness.

Eventually, with these thoughts swirling in its mind, it made its way to Central Park, where the beautiful, swaying lights hung around it like a chandelier, twinkling almost as brightly as the stars that filled the clear, night sky.

xxx

Her footsteps echoed on the staircase leading up. She saw the warm, orange light that came through the circular arches leading out from the skywalk. Though it wasn't really a skywalk, mostly because it was built underground, though it was nonetheless the balcony that overlooked the entrance to the Dungeon— the staircase that led so many adventurers to glory and to misfortune.

And this particular girl had experienced the former— had tasted it so many times. Almost like it was a part of her life— like it was expected of her.

Because she was strong and competent, she was hailed as a legendary adventurer: a hero to some, an idol to others, but someone to respect for all.

Finally, she took the last step, ducking under the archway, and felt herself basking in the serene, yet oddly homely glow of the lamps that hung off the walls and ceiling.

She closed her golden eyes, taking a deep breath, tasting the fresh air— not the damp and drear must that clung to her down below.

Her heels snapped against the tiled floor as she went along, feeling the cold air rushing through the gates brush past her.

xxx

It kept the blue and gold glow of its sockets fixed on the faces and people that passed around it. It studied the way their faces moved and the ways their eyes shifted, trying to gauge any level of threat and malice, though it knew that it was only being paranoid. Even still, whenever it heard the sound of approaching footsteps, it felt its hand tighten around the shaft of its weapon— as white as the snow that caked its cloak and surrounded it.

Yet it knew that it was all alone here— and safe. None of the people that passed it cared or bothered to spare another glance at it. They only cared for each other, and it was not one of them.

It was a nobody; it was no one interesting or special.

It was merely itself: just like all of those that passed it and just like all of those it passed.

xxx

She could feel the eyes on her: as if they were watching her every move and waiting for her every word. Every breath she took; every step she took; every time she blinked, she could feel their eyes on her: judging her, admiring her, and sometimes even envious of her.

The scabbard of her blade groaned in her fist. She felt her jaw locking shut. The air was like needles against her skin, and she had to resist the urge to scratch at that itch.

Her eyes became slits— like those of a reptile— like a dragon's. Her heart slammed against her ribcage as if wanting to break out of her chest, but she kept it under control— she needed to because it was expected of her.

"Come on, now. Keep it together," she said to herself, almost whispering it under her breath. "Just a few more minutes to go. Come on, come on." She breathed out. "Don't worry about them; they're nothing."

She shivered as she stepped into the night, feeling the cold air buzzing around her.

xxx

The orange glow assaulted it. It only seemed to grow brighter and brighter as it approached. And although it found those wonderful lights beautiful, it was also blinding and painful at the same time.

It burned, and it wanted to run away, and yet it was drawn in all the same. Almost like it was a moth, it felt attracted to that brilliance— and it would do anything to get closer even if it came at its own expense.

xxx

Small, delicate pellets of snow fluttered all around her, and she stepped forward, passing the dark blur that went in the opposite way. It billowed in the wind much like her brilliant golden hair— that cold breeze that wrapped around her and worked its way into her lungs.

xxx

It was truly blinding. It had to shield its eyes from that glow and it pulled its cloak down further against its eyes, just as that light flashed gold—

—the soft snow crunched beneath her boot with every step.

Crunch. Crunch… Crunch… Crunch… …

The wind brushed past her once more and she felt herself take a deep breath in, filling her lungs with the cold, night air.

She allowed her golden eyes to rest, and she breathed out. Her heart skipped a beat, and then—

Desperate was drawn from its scabbard with a rasp. She spun through the air, like an arrow, ripping through the distance between them in an instant—

But it was just as fast, and it nearly threw the cloak off of its skeletal body as it spun on its heels, bringing its ivory weapon up into a thrust, sending its wicked tip forward right at her.

However, she merely sidestepped the blow, her rapier carving a crescent in the air to parry the thrust. Then, stepping forward, she attacked, sending out a thrust of her own, forcing the monster to retreat.

It took a step back as the attack glanced past its cheek, nearly ripping its jaw open from the sheer force of the blow. And she continued her attack, advancing with tempo as her blade became a whirlwind of silver: so much so that even the snow seemed to avoid her, knocked aside from the force of her movements.

Nonetheless, the monster blended into the night— a particular trait of all of its kind— even in this place that was foreign to it. It seemed to move in all directions, and the hail of blades she sent its way found nothing: only the air.

She raised Desperate defensively, her eyes peering into the darkness as the few stray people had stopped to stare, and some even began to congregate. There was a hush whisper that passed amongst them— one that felt so loud.

But she simply ignored them. Her focus was on the fight and the threat she was supposed to defeat— she knew deep in heart that it was a threat, meaning it was also a threat to everyone else here. To protect them, she needed to destroy it now.

Her eyes widened and she dove to the side just as it came crashing down, driving its ivory lance into the pavement, splitting it open. Though it wasn't done, and it lunged forward, the blade carving a white crescent through the air, aimed right for her neck—

But the wind carried her away, out of danger, and she regained her balance with a hop, just in time to counter the monster's next blow, sending a shower of sparks into the air: illuminating them.

Now, the people were truly starting to crowd around her and some of them even drew the weapons they had on them, preparing to join in on the fight at a moment's notice. However, the sheer speed and ferocity of the combat kept them at bay. This was not yet their battle; they knew. Let the expert handle the situation.

The two of them traded blows, navigating the treacherous, slippery ice and snow that surrounded them, trying to gain an upper hand on their opponent. They encircled one another, making feints and jabs— lightning-fast maneuvers to test each other and to try to find a weakness: anything that would allow either to triumph.

For now, though, they were locked in a stalemate. And with so many people around, it was impossible for the news to not spread throughout Orario like wildfire even despite the late hour.

Perhaps this was fortune rolling in favour for him, or perhaps it was herald to misfortune.

---

Large puffs of smoke came from his lips as he felt his heart beating within his chest. His lungs quivered— begging for air— but all he got was the cold: like needles that prickled his skin and insides.

He waded through the thick snow that sloshed against his boot and the flurry of hail that fell from the clouds. He raised his voice, pushing past the crowd that had formed around Central Park. And they parted for him— opening up a path for the boy to walk down.

The clashing of metal on metal grew louder in his ears as he approached, and as he finally crawled and pushed his way to the front.

He saw that blur of gold and black and white in the snowstorm, encircling one another and occasionally trading blows, sending orange-red sparks into the air, adding even more light to the magic stones and gems dangling from the canopy above.

Ais lunged forward with a thrust, which was promptly deflected by the monster. The cloak that had shielded it before had been discarded long ago, and it laid its face and body bare: what to most civilians was likely an abomination akin to Death itself and the same even to most adventurers.

Bell felt his fists tightening. With one final puff of smoke released from his lips, he took a deep breath in, then shouted: emptying his lungs— "Ais!"

But the girl did not hear him: locked in combat, the only thing that took her focus was the monster in front of her and the people around her she needed to protect and save. To her, this was and has always been a holy time. For a monster to suddenly appear on the surface, was something she could not stand.

It was a time when children could play and frolic in the snow and ice and enjoy their time with their family and friends. It was not a time for them to worry. And thus it was her duty to defeat the monster— to vanquish the threat— and to be the adventurer she had so arduously and relentlessly trained to be.

This was her responsibility and her duty.

However, it simply wouldn't die. This monster was strong— an Irregular— which wouldn't surprise her: after all, it had made it to the surface. This didn't change the fact that she was at a loss for what to do. She was sure that if she found an opening, she could, but where would it come from—?

"Ais!"

The boy's scream finally broke through the thoughts swirling in her mind, and her eyes widened for a second as she recognized the voice. She knew it clearly; it was like a beautiful melody in her ears. How could it not? It was the voice of her Lover.

And so she turned to the sound of the voice, so desperate to see that white hair and red eyes, but the snowstorm that settled around her was relentless, and no matter where she looked, she couldn't.

That was when she realized, in her stupor, that she had turned her attention away from the fight.

She raised her blade just in time as the monster made a powerful thrust, glancing off of her pauldrons and grazing past her cheek. Several strands of her hair were sheared off and she leapt back, trying to avoid the onslaught of blows that came: a downwards strike which she narrowly avoided, then a horizontal slash followed by another thrust that she parried, though at the expense of her losing her purchase against the slippery ground.

As she made a desperate counterattack trying to ward off the skeletal warrior, she only dug herself deeper into her grave.

It parried her blow, and then, fully exposing her guard, it attacked, this time, catching her in the face, tearing open a deep wound as the barbed tip of the blade carved into her skin.

She stumbled backwards, feeling the cold and bitter snow settle on the bloody gash, only aggravating it more. Her arms and hands shook, as did her legs, from the pain. Her knees barely kept her up, and even then, there was no way she could stop the monster from approaching and striking her down.

"B-bell…" she uttered out through deep breaths. She tried to call out to the boy, but her voice shook and was barely above a whisper. "I don't… I don't wanna…"

The lumbering form of the monster approached her. The gold and blue fire of its sockets felt like they wanted to burn her alive, and she could feel the heat that radiated from them. But even then, it did nothing to quell the cold air that wrapped around her— leaving her body shivering and her teeth chattering.

"I don't wanna…" She tried to crawl away from the monster, but the strength in her arms and legs had all been siphoned out by the cold. "Where are you, Bell…? Don't leave me…!"

And that was when the boy leapt between the two, with the Hakugen and Hestia Knife leaving a trail of black and white behind him, deflecting the ivory white blade that descended down like a guillotine.

The monster, caught off-guard— not expecting the intrusion— was forced back from the blow. It stumbled for a while, trying to find its balance in the snow and ice before finally settling down.

Silence surrounded them. The three of them seemed to be off in their own world. Yet neither the monster nor Ais knew what would happen next. But the boy did.

And as he inhaled a deep breath, he spoke:

"When I met you, I knew that you were the same as all of them. You had the will— that unshakeable will— in order to endure and overcome no matter what struggles and obstacles you faced." Bell lowered his guard, his ruby red gaze pointed right at the monster. Even as the warrior flexed its muscles and tightened its grip around its ivory blade, the boy did not back down an inch or bother to raise his weapons against it.

"I knew you were human— and that you were stubborn and had your own dreams and ambitions that you yearned for. Just like me, like them, and like everyone else. And so if you wished to talk forward alone, then that was alright. Because I respected you and your strength enough that I knew you were capable of making your own decisions and forging your own path forward— that, whatever your dreams may have been, you could achieve them."

The red gaze only seemed to grow deeper and more violent with each passing second, and that was when the boy's face finally contorted into a frown and also into fury.

"But you have no right to tear down all of the things that they've accomplished. You have to right to trample on their effort and their sacrifices— the sacrifices of my family and friends. You have no right to step over their dreams like they were meaningless— just like they nor I have the right to step over yours."

The monster instinctively took a step back as it peered into those eyes, feeling the fire within them consume it.

"You're ruining all of it. So, before things get even worse, I think it's best that you leave. Now. I won't tolerate you anymore."

Then, finally, the warrior stopped, feeling its grip on its blade loosen. A silent moment passed between them— one that felt like an eternity— until it spoke: "is that your answer?"

This caught the boy off-guard and he furrowed his brows. "What?"

"I asked you long ago: to what lengths you were willing to go for your dream. And I realize now that I had underestimated you, perhaps…" Red clashed with gold and blue. "So now I ask you: is that your answer?"

Bell paused for a moment, taking a moment to think. And then—

"Yes—"

The wind brushed past him. The golden wind surrounded him and then shot forward like an arrow.

He blinked, taking a step back, his sixth sense blaring alarms in his mind—

The next moment, when his eyes opened, he saw the gleaming, silver blade of Desperate that had been forced into the monster's ribcage, piercing through whatever resistance it offered and shattering the magic stone that laid within.

Her hair flowed alongside the wind, billowing in the breeze: beautiful strands of gold as fine as silk.

His red eyes watched the dust and debris flutter into the sky, mixing and muddying the pristine white snow that fell.

"What…?" Was the only sound that he could muster up before he suddenly flinched and took a step back.

He blinked again and then shifted his gaze over, watching as Ais ran her thumb down his cheek, her lips curling into a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Bell." She leaned in closer and he could feel her breath on his neck, tickling it. Ever closer she got, and resting her hand against his chin, pressed her lips against his cheek before pulling away, but nonetheless keeping her arms wrapped around him— around his neck and waist.

"What did you do…?" He was as still as a statue— as if his body was frozen solid. Though, whether that was because of the cold or because of something else, he had no idea.

"What did I do? Well, I got rid of the monster, didn't I?" She smiled. "Monster's don't belong here; they are too dangerous. Think about what could have happened had the monster remained on the Surface without anyone realizing." She paused. "I mean, it was fine that other time; I realized pretty quickly that those monsters didn't want to hurt other people and wanted to go back to where they belonged… and that little dragon one was even your friend. I was willing to let those ones slide."

Bell grimaced.

"But this one was different. It attacked me all of a sudden and it was trying to kill me. It was trying to hurt you too. Didn't you say it yourself? That monster was ruining everything— I'm not quite sure what you were talking about— but it seemed serious. There was really only one thing I could have done at that point. I mean, otherwise, things could have gotten worse."

He frowned. "So, that was for everyone here…? For me…?" He looked around at the crowd, his eyes unmistakably catching the terror that ran through the peoples' eyes.

"Yes, of course, it was. Who else would I do it for?"

The frown deepened and he furrowed his brows. He turned his red gaze down to his feet, and then, with a deep breath followed by a heavy sigh, he nodded his head.

"You're right. It would have been dangerous if the monster stayed. It's a good thing that it's over, now." He said through gritted teeth, at last, shaking off her arm and striding away, pushing through the crowd that had gathered even closer to the two of them.

"Wait. Hold on, Bell." She grabbed the hem of his cloak, stopping him from leaving. Even as he struggled to tug himself away, she held on tightly. Eventually, he stopped trying and simply turned back to face her.

"Since you're already here, why don't you accompany me back to Twilight Manor? It's also quite dark out— and especially this weather— why don't you spend the night, too?"

"No, it's quite alright, I wouldn't want to intrude."

"But this is an invitation. No worries. I'm sure Lady Loki and the others will understand." She snaked her arm around his neck once more, pressing her full weight against him. He stumbled and staggered back as she did so, trying to hold the both of them up.

"I think Lady Hestia and the others will be worried about me, though. It'll be a problem if I don't return home. I don't want to cause any trouble for them."

She hummed. "But is it wrong for two people who love each other to spend time together?— spend the night together?"

His lips pressed into a fine line. "No, it's not. But we're not."

Her lips curled into a smile. "Of course we are. Don't you remember that night, Bell? When you showed me how much you loved me and I showed you how much I loved you—?"

With a quick blow, he shoved her away. Losing her balance on the slippery ice and snow, she fell onto her side. Then, groaning, she pushed herself onto her hands, holding herself steady.

Bell's breathing grew heavy and his heart pounded. He had to bat away the instinct to reach down and pick her up. Instead, he took a step back, feeling the snow that had soaked into his pants drag him down.

Then, he saw her eyes, and he felt as if his soul was being pierced. His breath caught in his lungs and his heart skipped a beat. He tried taking another step back, but he stopped when he heard her sickly sweet voice call out to him.

"Why would you do that, Bell? Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean it."

He swallowed as those dagger-like eyes softened. In the next instant, she looked almost deathly similar to a little girl on the verge of crying.

"I was only trying to help… I didn't mean to do anything bad." She shifted herself, getting onto her knees. "Please forgive me— give me another chance and I'll be better next time. I was only trying to help, but I'll promise to try harder, okay? So please say that you love me again."

His gaze fell to the ground, and with his lips still pressed into a fine line, he offered her only silence.

And she only kept on waiting. Eventually, she got onto her feet and stepped closer.

"Come on…" she cooed. "Say it…"

Each step lasted longer than the previous.

The snow fluttered wildly between them; the breeze became almost like a tempest that surrounded them. The onlookers all took a step back, especially the adventurers at the front who were protecting the civilians.

Her pale hand came down and she grabbed the hilt of Desperate, twirling it in her hands until it finally settled correctly in her hands. Her fingers closed tightly around the hilt— like a chokehold.

The boy unsheathed the Hakugen and Hestia Knife, feeling their well-worn grips in his hands.

"Bell, my dear, come on," she said through gritted teeth. "You're making a scene."

Yet all she got in return was silence once more. It was deathly quiet and she could hear the wind howling in her ears. She gritted her teeth at the silence and her golden eyes melted into fury.

Her voice was raspy under her breath: "say it."

Facing each other, the boy raised his guard. The black and white of the Hestia Knife and Hakugen gleamed in his hands against the harsh glow of the lights that surrounded them. The girl, in turn, did the same. Her golden hair fluttered in the wind and she brandished the wicked point of her silver blade. Her golden eyes that stared forward, unwavering, were just as sharp, almost as if piercing into him.

The boy released a breath, as did the girl. His grip tightened on the hilts of his blades and his ruby red eyes burned with a crimson flame. And then, the next moment, he was gone.

The Hakugen carved a white crescent through the air. Nonetheless, the silver blade was there, deflecting the blow, sending a shower of sparks flying.

The boy blew past, sliding against the ground until he came to a stop. His blades came up almost immediately as the girl lunged forward with an attack. The Hestia Knife came up to parry a thrust as fast as the wind, and the Hakugen followed shortly after to deflect yet another thrust.

Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he strafed out of the way just as a diagonal strike came down, buzzing past where he once was.

The Hestia Knife came around, ripping through the air, swinging in a wide arc, but the silver blade was already in place, stopping the blow dead in its tracks. Even still, Bell simply ducked forward with another strike. With a flick of his wrist, the Hestia Knife curved upwards in a slash and Ais parried the blow, taking a step back as Desperate met the blade head-on, letting sparks fly.

And the two traded two more close-range blows. The rapier returned in a horizontal strike and the Hakugen was there to deflect the blow, sending it away. Nonetheless, Ais, with incredible finesse, simply stepped forward into a thrust, seamlessly sending the point of her blade forward. Even still, the boy was able to keep up, and the black blade emerged, parrying the attack.

However, the tempo of their battle and the force with which she attack were enough to push him back. As she thrust again, he took yet another step back, dodging the blow altogether. Then, as a downwards strike came, he raised his guard, deflecting the strike with the Hakugen— only for his guard to drop again as she swiped at his ankles with the Desperate. He hopped and rolled out of the way, coming to a stop just a few meters away, lifting both blades in defense.

He had no time to catch his breath. Ais lunged forward with an upwards strike, bringing her arm around. The Hakugen and Hestia Knife came up, ready to catch the blow— and yet it never came—

The blade buzzed past his ears and he flinched to the left—

His guard came down as his ruby red eyes tracked the silver outline, but he wouldn't make it in time.

He felt it press into the side of his ribcage, right under his armpit. He turned, trying to take the blow with his back.

But—

It kept going— that wicked, cold, biting edge—

The blade carved a crescent through the air. And, with it, those long-gone, yet unforgotten memories—

The boy charged forward, the Hakugen carving a white crescent through the air as she brought Desperate up to parry the blow. Pellets of snow fluttered past and sparks flew as Bell slid to a halt— a spray of snow kicking up in his wake.

Spinning on his heels, his guard came up just as the girl charged, lunging forward with a thrust to the face, which was deflected by the Hestia Knife— and then another, sent away by the Hakugen.

Rolling out of the way as a diagonal strike descended, he counterattacked. The stygian blade came around, propelled by flames as it carved an arc through the air— but the girl had her blade up to defend against the blow.

Even still, with another crimson flash, he lunged forward with an upwards strike, meeting the silver edge of her blade, sending a shower of sparks through the snow-ladened air.

Now, it was the girl who countered. Desperate descended in an arc, flashing before his eyes before a white flash filled it— the Hakugen fitting into place to deflect the blow. And, as the lightning-fast thrust appeared before him, the Hestia Knife was there and he strafed past the blow, taking a step back from her.

Another thrust came in a flash of silver and he dodged to the other side. Then, he raised his guard as she swung overhead. As she pivoted on the balls of her feet, sweeping Desperate low, he leapt into the air, sending a kick her way. Raising her arms, she felt the force of the kick send her stumbling back.

Nonetheless, she pressed forward with her attack and she lunged forward. Desperate raised high, gleaming in the mesmerizing, colourful lights, descended. The Hakugen and the Hestia Knife went up, and he leaned back just as the sword whizzed past the side of his face.

And then, pushing all of the energy and power into his legs and lower body, he pushed forward, diving past and rolling on the ground just as the blade buzzed past once more— the silver blade that carved a diagonal crescent upwards.

He rolled to a stop, tumbling against the snow. As he finally regained his balance, he felt the palm of his left hand grow hotter until there was a flash of crimson red.

His hand came across, and the flames sprung forth from his fingertips. The lightning seemed to jump from snowflake to snowflake, carving through the air.

However, the girl was ready for them and she raised her blade, feeling the wind around her twist and bend around her, as if becoming a shield, dispersing and snuffing out the flames. The frigid air met the roaring inferno, and they seemed to blend together for a moment before it was all whisked away, leaving only lonely whisps of smoke behind—

Her golden eyes went wide as she took a hurried step back. Her blade came up in an impromptu parry, knocking aside the gleaming white blade. She felt her back foot slip, but her blade was held in a rigid guard—

There was a flash of crimson, followed not a millisecond later by a flash of white— and then black.

The Hestia Knife descended and she brought Desperate up to defend. Sparks flew and she felt herself lose her balance, stumbling back against the force of the blow.

That flash of white came again, followed by that empty black. Her blade was there, again, ready to deflect the blow— one that came over and over again, and she felt herself losing strength in her arms and legs with each strike that came.

A swing to the head was parried, but she felt herself nearly trip over herself as she stumbled to the side. A thrust to the face was narrowly avoided by a hairbreadth, but the kick that swiftly followed connected with her gut, and she felt the air forced from her lungs as she nearly pitched backwards.

Staggering as she tried to regain her balance, she raised her blade, opening up a counterattack. She stepped forward with a thrust, but he merely parried the blow, stepping to the side, and struck forward with his own attack.

It was all she could to do ward him away just as she felt the frigid, biting edge of the Hestia Knife sink into the flesh beneath her eye, cutting deeper into the flesh wound. Instinctively, she brought a hand up to the wound as she stumbled away, nearly falling on her side. The blood dripped through the seams of her fingers, against the snow— melting it upon contact.

She felt herself release a deep breath, only to immediately take one in— and then another, and then another, faster and faster. She felt the cold air fill up her lungs; she felt her hair plastered to her face from the sweat, cooling against the breeze; she felt her entire body ache and herself feel light-headed.

That was when she felt her shoulders begin to shake. They jumped up and down. Puffs of smoke came from her lips; even as she clenched her jaw tight, she couldn't help the muffled whimpers that escaped.

She tumbled to the floor as her knees gave way. She hiccoughed as her fingers nearly strangled the hilt of Desperate. A sob escaped from the deepest recesses of her throat. She tilted her gaze up, trying to meet his eyes, only to find those red irises staring back at her, wide— with fury, sadness, but most of all, with sheer terror. She could see the way his teeth chattered and the way his arms trembled whenever he looked at her.

Yet another sob escaped her and she watched the boy's hands tightened around his blade, almost like he instinctively knew he wasn't safe.

"I only wanted to help—" another hiccough sent her shoulders up— "I only wanted to do it right—" her hand fell to the frigid, icy snow, and she clawed at it— "I only wanted to save you— I only wanted to save you— I only wanted to save you— please— I only wanted to save you—! You have to believe me—!"

His voice responded in a hallowed whisper. "From what…?"

But she couldn't hear it— "please," she pleaded, "I only wanted to save you…" a sob stopped her abruptly, and yet she never stopped saying those words, "you have to believe me— please, you have to believe me—" her shoulders jumped again.

"From what…?" He whispered again as he stepped closer. He could feel the frown on his face growing deeper and the red in his eyes becoming even harsher. His jaw clenched shut and he felt his fists close around the hilt of the Hestia Knife. "From what…?" He asked again, louder, and yet the girl mumbled her pleas, the tears beginning to form around her eyes and slowly trickling down the side of her cheek until—

"Save me from what—!?"

His bellow finally registered in the girl's ears, and she flinched as he looked up, raising her arms and shielding herself as if she expected him to hit her.

But when she realized he didn't, she uncovered herself and looked up at him, meeting his red gaze with her golden eyes. Her voice was so weak and feeble—

"From that… monster… monsters… like before… don't you remember?" A puff of smoke came from her lips and she stared at him so desperately, trying to get a look at his face through the snow and tears that blended together to distort her vision. "From the Minotaur… Apollo familia… that little dragon girl… I was supposed to save you— you were supposed to need me to save you—" Another puff of smoke was whisked away in the breeze as she clutched her temple with her hands. Her eyes squeezed shut and she felt that deep pit in her stomach, almost making her gag and throw up.

"Why…" she felt her lips and face contort into despair and she finally let herself go. Her voice became like a banshee's screech and she cried out to the boy as if putting the blame of all of her misfortune on him. "Why did you leave me—!?"

Yet her sobbing drowned out her woes.

"Why did you change everything and make it all wrong—!? Why did you have to make it all different—!? Why couldn't you have just kept it as it was— simple and easy—!?"

And at that moment, she lunged at him, grabbing his arms and tackling him to the ground. As she grabbed him by the neck and brought her fist down on his cheek, he tried to push her off and shield himself from the strike, but he couldn't. The cold ice and snow shocked his lungs and numbed his arms and legs— even as he kicked blindly trying to break free.

"I was supposed to be a Hero—!" A fist came down, catching him on the temple and cutting open his brow.

"I wasn't supposed to be me anymore. I wasn't supposed to be a Nobody—!" Yet another blow descended, glancing against his cheek and his nose, causing blood to flow out. He gasped and pushed with whatever strength he still had in his arms, but the grip she had on his neck was unrelenting.

"I was supposed to become strong enough to save my Mom and avenge my Dad—! I was supposed to finally save them and be free!" As her fist came up again, preparing for yet another strike, she stopped as her golden eyes met his. His face, bloody and bruised, he gasped desperately for air— the cold air that shook his lungs and sent lightning lancing up and down his spine.

She watched as that vibrant ruby red grew dimmer, losing that lustrous brilliance with each passing moment— with each breath that she took and with each thump she heard in her ears from her beating heart.

That was when she heard that far-away voice— that voice that was so desperate, pleading for her to stop. She felt the strength in her arm diminish as she tore her eyes away from the boy under her.

Almost as if space itself was warped, a golden glow surrounded the small girl that strode forward. The blue ribbons fluttered around her, as did her jet black hair, swept up by the cold, winter breeze.

Ais couldn't look away, almost as if she were entranced by those soft, sapphire blue eyes, holding so much pain that she nearly shrunk into a ball, not wanting to confront it. And yet, through that pain, was a hint of what was almost sympathy and compassion— almost as if telling her that everything was alright and that she could finally rest. All of it siphoned the energy from her body and she felt her arms go limp by her sides.

The girl continued forth, and when she finally stepped within an arm's reach, Ais could feel the warmth that radiated from her skin, and she instinctively reached out to her, trying to stop the bone-chilling cold and shivering that wracked her body.

And the girl reached out as well, firmly taking her hand in her own. A smile blossomed on that girl's face— one that matched those sparkling, sapphire eyes—

"You can stop now, Ais Wallenstein," the girl said, and Ais could feel herself relax. She felt the warmth that wrapped around her hand, and she felt like she wanted to dive head-first into it. It almost felt like—

"Tell me, Ais… who are you?"

The girl sat there as if in a daze as those words swam around in her head. But even as she registered them, her mind was empty, unable to respond. She simply sat there, mouth agape, staring so deeply into those blue eyes, as if lost in them.

Eventually, she was able to form something coherent, and she muttered it aloud: "I am… I am…" she stopped herself, finally tearing her gaze away. "I don't know… some people call me a friend… other people call me their family— their sister and their daughter… others know me as a fighter and a warrior— a Hero that's meant to save them. I'm an adventurer… and my job is to fight monsters— my wish is to defeat that one monster— to save my Mom and to avenge my Dad, but I can't do it… I won't be able to…" she gritted her teeth as the tears came back to her eyes, rolling down her cheek.

"There're others who're stronger than me—" she snapped her eyes shut, grunting— "stronger, faster, smarter, more skilled, more ferocious, more balanced—" she grunted again and she pressed her fingers to her temple— but the girl was there, gripping her shoulders with a delicate touch.

"In other people's eyes— when compared to others— they who are special and unique— and just as special and unique as you are. But I don't want to know about that: about others compared to you or what others think of you."

Ais opened her eyes, wincing as she felt the sharp pain lance down her spine.

"Who are you, Ais?" Their foreheads touched. "...Who do you want to be? Who will you choose to be? For yourself?"

And then, in that instant, she could feel the warmth rapidly fade. Ais watched as the girl as if suspended in mid-air, fluttered away. And, as if time slowed down for them, she watched as the girl reached out for the boy. Her fingertips grazed against his forehead.

She could see the girl's eyes that held so much regret as if she knew how much the boy hurt— hurt because of her— and how she wouldn't be able to soothe his pain or hold him for longer and to reassure him.

But, as Ais peered once more into those eyes, she could also see relief and happiness, as if she knew that even though the boy hurt, he would be okay.

"When we are struck and kicked low, the only thing we can do is to get back up."

Her fingertips finally left the boy, and she felt herself being lifted into the sky.

"It's okay to cry and be sad… and maybe also to regret a little."

She looked down upon them, gazing at the girl and the boy for one last time.

"But we must always find ways to get back up.

Perhaps it will be through the strength imparted upon us by friends or family…

Or maybe even the persistence to overcome a rival.

That sacred flame— nurture it and keep it ever-burning.

Let the emotions and memories flow, and let them be the fuel for those flames.

Let it burn free and brightly and ferociously— but never dangerously.

Because there will come a time when those we cherish will need those flames for warmth and protection.

From one flame to another— from one torch to another— they will continue to burn.

Let those memories become the embers of yesterday.

Let those emotions become the flames of today.

Let those dreams become the fuel for tomorrow."

Ais felt the warmth fade away, lifting into the sky as a pillar of golden light pierced the clouds above, parting them.

Almost immediately, she began to shiver. She could feel the cold breeze— the wind, something she always felt comfort in— shake her bones. Her teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off that biting cold—

But then, she could feel that heat again, and she looked to the skies, almost as if expectantly waiting for that girl to come back to her. However, her golden eyes saw nothing except the snow and the clouds that had settled back once more. Small traces of lightning tore through the sky— no doubt the fading remains of that pillar of light.

Even still, she felt herself grow hotter and hotter— uncomfortably so— certainly not that warmth from before—

She shielded her face with her arms, feeling the skin peeling off of her body. She was thrown back, landing in the soft snow. A puff of smoke escaped her lips as she breathed out and clutched the side of her body.

Her golden gaze rose as she pushed herself onto her feet, and she saw that tower of flames that reached into the sky— almost like that glowing pillar that pierced the clouds.

She could feel the heat kiss her skin, and the rush of cold air expanding as it met that heat brushed against her skin like a wild gale. Those flames seemed to wrap around him, like hands clawing at his face and body and arms and legs— as if they were all trying to reach out to him and grab ahold of him—

That whisper reached her ears—

"What… did… you… do…?"

—the flames approached, like the unstoppable waves of the ocean, and the wind curled around her, trying to protect her— but the heat still got to her and she felt her skin be set ablaze.

Not only that, but the sheer force of the flames and of the rush of hot air continued to push her back and she fell once more, rolling against the ground before coming to a stop.

Picking herself up from the ground, she lifted a shaky hand to her face, cupping the charred skin. "I… I don't—" she struggled for air as the smoke filled her lungs and she gagged and coughed, trying to choke out words, but even she didn't know what she wanted to say— "I didn't— I just…"

"What… did… you… do…?" Came that same whisper, but now it echoed endlessly through her mind. She took a step back as her golden eyes shifted around restlessly.

"What… did… you… do…?"

"No—! I just—!"

"What… did… you… do…?"

"No— no—! Please— please…"

"What… did… you… do…?"

"I didn't— I didn't—!"

"Why… did… you… do…?"

"I didn't mean it—! I didn't mean it—! I didn't mean it—!"

As her gaze settled onto the boy once more, she saw the twinkle of those sorrowful tears roll down the side of his cheek. Even as the snow lifted off of the pavement, turning into water vapours— those tears did not— as if they were immune to the Elements themselves— or, rather, as if the Elements themselves allowed for it to happen.

"I… I—"

She could see his body shake— and the flames seemed to shake with him, undulating in this beautiful wave— one so serene— yet also one which held the capabilities of so much mayhem. The fire brushed off of him, and she could see him wrap his arms around himself as if those flames could not possibly provide enough warmth to him— for the cold that had settled around him.

"Come back… I need you…"

As if instinctively, Ais took a step toward the boy, but the heat and flames made her back off immediately.

Those tears continued to fall, as he pleaded—

"Please— please— please— please— please— please— please— please—"

Ais snapped her eyes back just as a deep groan reverberate through Central Park and as the ground shook with a tremendous tremor.

The sky was falling— yet, it was no sky—

That majestic tower, built by the hands of Gods leaned on its side, and slowly, but surely, began its descent.

---

Don't have much to say this time around, except sorry for the cliffs but soon everything will even out.

Another note: I've recently moved to university and the first few weeks have been quite hectic and I'm still adjusting to my schedules and workload, so updates will likely slow down until I've found a good schedule to follow. Also, there's the fact that this chapter was longer than usual. Hope the wait was worth it though.

As always, reviews and critiques are welcome.