Act 2, Part 4: Elmina

"Your name?" Idalia asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What you do mean?"

"It's my name. The first name that I had. It's all coming back to me," Bianca explained. "I remember who I was. And who I became after that."

"Heinrich," Idalia said uncertainly. "What exactly did that spell do to her?"

Bianca answered before Heinrich could. "It helped me remember my past lives. My name was- is Elmina. I wrote that spell to help me remember. And I wrote everything else in there too. That book belongs to me."

"Um-" Idalia began awkwardly. "So just to make sure I'm understanding this right: you were once someone named Elmina a really long time ago. So long ago that you wrote this book in a language that's been dead for millennia."

"I know it sounds unbelievable – gods know that I'm still processing it all. But it's true. The memories are still fitting into place, but the oldest ones are clear as day. I remember my life as Elmina. In fact, I'm certain that it happened."

"Remember, I am Elmina," Heinrich recounted. "That's what the spell meant."

"I'm no expert on magic, but… is that all that magic is? Just regular sentences? I thought that magic would be more... I don't know, mystical?" Idalia said.

"Spoken magic is different from how it's often depicted in stories," Heinrich explained. "Yelling out nonsense words like 'hocus pocus' won't do anything. The power behind magical languages is through verbalizing the spell circles woven into the alphabet. Because of that, words in fairy language have power. A simple sentence alone is enough for causality."

"So, in other words, that spell was real, right? There's no way that she's just believing something that's not there?" Idalia asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

"Idalia," Bianca said reassuringly, taking Idalia's hand. "I know what you're worried about, but I promise, what I'm feeling is real. I can even prove it if that'll help."

"What do you mean?"

"My memories are all coming back, which means that I know how to read this journal."

Bianca took the book and flipped it open to a random page.

"Mitra's Enigma. The Goddess Mitra has many facets. Though tranquil and quiet in demeanor, Mitra is righteous and benevolent. But in the face of injustice, her wrath in unparalleled. The Sun God's holy relic, the holy sword Azor, can produce a divine light, radiant and scorching as the sun, to smite down those who oppose her will. Upon it are inscribed the words of faith that Mitra imparted to those who seek the sun's deliverance: Alvationsay inway Andhay."

Bianca then flipped the page and grinned. "Look, here's the sentence that we were trying to translate. We thought it said, 'Solar position indicates hope at dawn, fairness at noon, and love at evening,' but it actually says, 'The position of the sun brings hope at dawn, justice at noon, and flaming passion at sunset.' I'd say that we were pretty close, don't you think?"

"Mitra… I've heard that name before," Idalia recounted. "She was one of the first recorded Knights of Light, if I remember correctly. I guess it's appropriate for a Knight of Light to be named after the sun."

"I've also seen the name Mitra before, in the library at Orbis. The Nymphs had folklore about celestial angels with radiant wings and feathered ears. It was said that Nymphs were descendants of those angels, the servants of Mitra. Orbis Tower was built long ago in the hope of reaching the domain of the sun. The Nymphs believe that the Goddess will one day take them to where the sky ends – where Mitra dwells."

"If they built Orbis Tower that long ago… exactly how old are you, Bianca?" Idalia asked cautiously.

"Please, call me Elmina. I know it's a bit sudden, but that name holds more meaning for me."

"All right, then. Um… Elmina," Idalia said.

The name felt unnatural on her tongue. Still, Bianca- Elmina smiled graciously. It was strange, Idalia thought. The woman staring back at her was the same as she remembered. Then why did it feel like she was talking to a stranger?

"As you can probably guess by now, I'm pretty old," Elmina laughed. "As far as how old that is – I have no clue. Centuries, at least. Probably even more. The memories are there, but it's taking a while for me to process them in the context of my current mind."

"Why don't you try telling us about what you remember in those memories?" Heinrich suggested. "Perhaps that way, we might be able to figure out just how long ago that was."

"Hm, alright. I was born here on Maple World. But back then, this world was just one of many. There were so many different kinds of people that you'd never see here today. People with wings like dragons, like birds… I can't even begin explaining. But it was a dangerous time. Those countless worlds and countless people were ruled by countless gods."

"The ancient gods," Heinrich said. "You were born in the age of chaos."

Something stirred in Idalia's memory. Shinsoo had told her about this.

"You see, before the rule of three, this world – and countless others – fell to chaos. I was born in an age when countless gods roamed the world and ruled with impunity."

"You can't begin to imagine the horrors that were unleashed. Atrocities upon atrocities. Militant faiths that waged war in the name of their gods, pillaging and murdering all those whom they deemed heathens. Entire continents erased in a day, only to be reshaped into a holy land for another. In that time, the power of the gods made all things animate. Stones and trees… the wind, the oceans… the sun and moon themselves. There was no shelter, no safety – not when all of existence itself was carved into 365 domains, each waxing and waning in size, each god selfishly fighting to claim and reclaim what they believed was rightfully theirs. Our purpose was to snap loudly beneath their feet. To bow and scrape and break for their game of domination. They were titans and we were indistinguishable from the dust of the departed."

"That sounds… horrifying," Idalia breathed.

She knew war. She understood it. But what Elmina was describing was something nearly beyond conception. What she had lived through hadn't been a war. It was a slaughterhouse of flesh for the divine.

"My family in that life worshiped Chronos, the god of the Giants. We lived under Chronos' protection in exchange for our daily tribute. 364 humans – one to represent each of Chronos' rivals – became food to sate his appetite. We had no choice, of course. In that time, if you lived outside a god's domain, you were guaranteed death."

"That's the size of a village," Heinrich pointed out. "Surely he wouldn't risk wiping out all his followers?"

"This was a bigger universe than you can imagine," Elmina explained. "There were 365 creations and countless races to inhabit them. The number of followers that each god had was almost the size of a planet. In respect to that, a few hundred sacrifices every day was nothing."

What Elmina was saying was something that Heinrich could scarcely imagine. The idea of gods rampaging across the world was already difficult to grasp, but the sheer magnitude of their destruction was beyond his comprehension.

"We lived for sixteen years in Chronos' domain before my father was picked to be sacrificed. My mother couldn't take it anymore. A week later, she threw herself off the side of the mountain that we lived on. I lived alone for nine more years as an empty shell, waiting for my time to die next. But one day, everything changed. Chronos and his Giants were cast down."

"By another god?" Idalia asked.

"By people. Normal people, just like you and me. I'd never seen anything like it."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time before people decided that they'd had enough," Heinrich noted. "But still, it's strange to think of someone powerful enough to face a god."

"Back in that time, we had a saying: 'Only a god may challenge another god,'" Elmina explained. "That's why the gods made relics containing their power. Those relics chose their owners based on who the people believed in. The strongest and most devout were naturally those who could draw in the support of their fellow believers. The relics were designed to awaken in the hands of a soul that pulsed with the energy of many. With the power of their god, a chosen one could use the relic to challenge the other gods in their master's name."

"So, the ones who defeated Chronos used relics?" Heinrich asked. "He must have had many enemies for so many gods to have sent their forces together."

Elmina shook her head. "The gods would never work with each other. Their pride would never allow it. No, the ones who defeated Chronos used relics, but not ones made by the gods."

"Then who made them?" Idalia asked in surprise.

"I asked many times. The only answer I ever got was that it was the world itself."

Once again, Shinsoo's voice resurfaced in Idalia's mind. "The world itself cried out in anguish, unable to abide such madness. Its will forged chains of law that dragged the gods back into darkness."

"The will of the world…" Heinrich murmured. "It's said that the Goddess is the ambassador for the world to make its will known to mortals like us."

"Perhaps the will of the world is the manifestation of our prayers given form. I always wondered to myself how this universe was made. The gods were the incarnation of chaos itself. I couldn't believe that they were the ones who could have created the careful patterns woven into the fabric of our reality. There had to be something older than the gods, something that must have been listening to us all along."

"And you think that 'something' created the relics that defeated Chronos?"

"It's the only explanation that makes sense to me. Because after Chronos fell, I decided to go with the ones who defeated him. They were the first ray of hope that shone on me in a lifetime of darkness. And that's when I learned that there were dozens of them, maybe even hundreds. All bearing relics that dwelled inside their souls – relics that could make divine blades sharp enough to pierce through the gods themselves. I decided right then and there. I would do everything that I could to help them take back our world."

"By wielding the relic?" Idalia asked.

Elmina laughed. "No, the relics only respond to certain people. Unfortunately, I didn't have the predisposition for it. I heard rumors that in another world, there was research being done to artificially fuse people with the world's relics, to make more soldiers in the war."

"That sounds impressive," Heinrich marveled. "Those researchers must have been quite remarkable to collaborate and engineer vessels of hope. Did you ever get the chance to see it during your travels?"

"I hardly head anything about it at all, and that's why I don't trust it," Elmina explained. "Keeping it secret from the gods is one thing, but keeping it secret from the world is another. People during my time were always experimenting to become stronger – factories to produce adversaries of the gods, fabricating chosen ones to hijack the power of the godly relics, probably a lot more that I don't even know about. All of it was done in secret, like it was a crime being covered up. I'll say this much – nothing good ever came from mortals playing with powers that they don't understand."

"So then, how did you help if you didn't have a relic?" Idalia asked.

"Like I said, nothing good can come from playing with what you don't understand. Those adversaries had the power to face the gods, but power without knowledge means nothing. I began collecting as much information as I could about the gods – their powers, their relics, their domains, and any weaknesses that I could find." Elmina explained, holding up the Book of Ancient. "This book contains all my writings on the gods, documented across entire lifetimes, all for the sake of winning the most important war ever fought."

"Entire lifetimes… so you mean that you've been able to remember your past lives, even back then?" Idalia asked.

"That's what I'd like to know as well," Heinrich added. "There's something that doesn't add up. At the beginning of time, the Goddess blessed humanity with the power of oblivion – to forget. The Goddess' Promise is what ensures that we may forget the hardships of our lives so that we may make better memories in our future. That's why we fundamentally cannot remember our past lives. How is it that you're able to, then?"

"The era of the gods was a different time altogether. And I don't mean that poetically. After the gods were defeated, the universe was remade under the rule of three. Three worlds, three laws, and three keepers. The Goddess' Promise was made at the beginning of the great reformation. During my early lives, all things were animate. I have my theories on why this was. Heinrich, are you familiar with the composition of our universe?"

"To an extent," Heinrich replied. "Our universe was created from the light of the Goddess."

"Exactly," Elmina nodded. "That light – it's called… well, there's no actual word for it in our current language. In my time, we called it 'Erda'. The closest equivalent to it today would be 'lightshard'. Light is a pattern that retains the memory of what it composes. When things are destroyed, their Erdas are spontaneously reshaped into something else. But because light remembers itself, those old memories can sometimes start to oversaturate if they've been reincarnated for long enough. The Erdas start to behave not only as what they are, but what also what they once were. Inanimate objects may start behaving animate as a result."

"And when the Goddess' Promise was made, the power of oblivion resets the link of memories," Heinrich realized. "So that Erdas will only ever hold the memories of their current incarnation. But then," he said. "How were you able to bypass oblivion?"

"By using the power that the Goddess taught me."

"You've met the Goddess?" Heinrich asked in shock. "And you learned from her?"

"Only once, and only briefly. I didn't even know that she was the Goddess at that time. During one of my research missions, I was being protected by one of the adversaries of the gods. There was a girl who came with him, she said that she was a mage who'd been sent as a healer. She saw me writing in my journal about Erdas and offered to teach me a trick. She used a spell and claimed that she'd awakened a bit of my true potential, just enough to 'help me along my destiny', in her words. I only learned much later that only the Goddess can awaken that kind of power in someone."

"It's said that the Goddess had once incarnated as a mortal during a time of chaos," Heinrich noted. "Perhaps you met her human avatar. Still, it's incredible to think that you've been blessed by the Goddess, much like I have. Is that how you were able to bypass the Goddess' Promise? By using her power?"

"Exactly. My power to reshape the Erdas is miniscule compared to others that I've seen, but I can still reshape them on a tiny scale within my own soul. I mentioned that Erdas are lightshards that retain the memories of all their shapes. The Goddess' Promise makes it so that memories are essentially tied to the body, not the soul. I devised a spell that can embed lightshards of Erda deep into my soul, enough to withstand the flow of oblivion."

"And that's how you were able to recall your past lives?" Idalia asked.

"Yep. Back when the gods were still around, people were able to recall their past lives, but they would be fragmented and incomplete. Other times, their memories would be oversaturated. There was a condition that some people had who had too many past memories. Just like how rocks and trees would move like they were animate, people would fracture and split into different personalities, or sometimes spend hours or days lying still as statues, acting like they were inanimate objects. I designed my spell so that my memories would be complete and unburdensome."

"I'm guessing that you used some sort of fractal pattern for those lightshards?" Heinrich asked.

"Something like that. The war lasted for quite a number of centuries, and I wouldn't have been able to finish my research on the gods in one lifetime. That's why I think the Goddess gave me the power of the Erdas. She mentioned something about fulfilling my destiny, too. She knew that I needed that power to help win the war."

"What about your handwriting?" Idalia suddenly realized. "You've been writing in the book for ages, but your writing has still been the same this entire time."

"I have a theory about that – just a theory, mind you. When we reincarnate, our bodies are different, but our souls are the same. Memories belong to the body, but our identities live in our souls. And because of this, that identity manifests across lifetimes in different ways – traits, habits, sometimes even appearances. For me, my life's work is my research. My writings. It defines who I am. I like to believe that my handwriting is an expression of my soul, and I'd wager that both of you have something in common with your past lives too."

Idalia considered Elmina's words. What was it that defined her? Her dedication, perhaps. Or her leaderships skills. She certainly hoped that it wasn't her illness.

"What about the ring?" Heinrich asked. "Was it to make sure that only you could access it?"

"I enchanted the ring as the key to my research journal. I couldn't risk the knowledge inside falling into the hands of the gods or their followers," Elmina explained. "When I passed and reincarnated, my memories would slowly bubble to the surface and manifest when I was twenty-two years old."

"Why twenty-two?" Idalia asked.

"According to the laws of numerology, the number 2 is a symbol for duality," Heinrich told Idalia. "Most mages agree that twenty-two – a pair of twos – is a paradoxical number that creates something concrete from chaos. It's said that 22 is the age at which one's natural magical talent is at its peak."

"And because of that, my memory spell grows in strength until my magic becomes strong enough to catalyze those lightshards inside my soul, which then release their memories into my current body. It's quite ingenious, really. I have a number of other spells that I wrote in my book. Most of them don't involve Erda manipulation, of course, but they still do fascinating things with spirits and souls."

"To my knowledge, however," Heinrich frowned. "Studies on spirit transmutation were banned by Empress Ereve centuries ago. In the wrong hands, it could have catastrophic consequences."

"And I agree with her," Elmina reassured. "I've done everything that I can to ensure that the Book of Ancient remains as secure as possible. I have it locked down with the ring, I hide it somewhere only I can recall when my past memories resurface, and I specifically enchanted the pages on my magical research with a spell that tethers them to my soul."

"Tethers them to… your soul?" Idalia asked in confusion.

"It means that those pages will remain inaccessible to anyone who isn't me, even if they have the ring."

"Oh…!" Idalia exclaimed.

It was just like when they had first tried experimenting with the ring – even back then, those pages had only opened to Bianca when she had worn the ring. Idalia then caught herself – Elmina, not Bianca.

"And on top of that, I've made it so that the whole book is untranscribable, meaning that those spells can't be copied down anywhere else, not even by me. And just for maximum, ironclad security, I've purged the spell that created those security measures so that they can never be undone."

"But then, if they can't be transcribed, then how were we able to translate the book?" Idalia asked.

"Our translations were in another language," Elmina pointed out. "The magic of those spells is tied to the original language itself, so copying them down in another language wouldn't do anything."

"I do see one flaw, though," Heinrich noted. "Based on how the ancient tongue is a root to all contemporary languages in our world, is it safe to assume that it was universal to everyone in the age of the gods?"

"The ancient tongue was the language of the gods," Elmina explained. "Almost everyone lived in their domains, and so it was shared between every world."

"In that case, your spell to make the book untranscribable was an apt security measure during your time, but after so many years, other languages have branched off from the old tongue. We were able to circumvent your defense mechanism by translating the original script into a different language. I can't imagine that anyone would understand the significance of this book, nor have the patience or time to translate hundreds upon hundreds of pages, but it's a risk that I believe is non-trivial, and something that you may want to address."

Idalia felt a chill run down her spine. Kirston had been after the book. If he had been after the book, it meant that he knew what was written inside. Did he know about the loophole that Heinrich had mentioned? He'd been after Elmina because he needed her to open the book.

If he'd used the loophole, then he wouldn't have needed her, Idalia supposed. But then, he also might not have translated the entire book. The language had been fairly difficult, after all. She stopped herself from shaking her head in frustration. There were too many unknown factors for her liking.

"There's just one other thing that I don't understand," Heinrich added. "If your memory spell automatically triggers when you reach twenty-two, why didn't it work this time?"

"I… don't actually know," Elmina admitted. "The only reason I can think of is that the spell was undone. But there's no reason why I would've switched it off."

It was subtle, but Idalia felt Elmina's expression change ever so slightly in realization. If it was unlikely that she had tampered with the spell, then it must have been Kirston. They both knew it to be true. But Idalia decided not to bring it up. Heinrich had no idea about Kirston, and Elmina had wanted to keep it that way. It, like many other things, was a conversation for later.

"Perhaps the answer will come to you when your memories settle into place," Heinrich supposed. "Processing countless lifetimes will no doubt take some time. Weeks, maybe. Or even months."

"Right…" Elmina agreed hesitantly. "And on that note, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to lie down for a bit. The flood of memories settling into place is rather draining."

As Elmina began packing up, Idalia could feel the energy of the room shift. Even Heinrich must have picked it up.

"I'll catch up in a bit," Idalia added as Elmina turned to leave.

She made sure that Elmina was out of earshot before turning back to Heinrich.

"Tell me I'm not the only one who thinks that this is insane," she said immediately.

"I'm just as taken aback as you," Heinrich agreed. "What Bianca- Elmina has told us is completely unprecedented. The age of gods is more myth than fact, even to the fairies. And the idea of retaining one's identity after death defies every natural law in existence. You asked me earlier whether her perception of reality has been warped by the spell."

"Do you think it has?"

"Her story is incredulous. But still, it makes sense logically. I've only known her for a short time, but I don't think that this is something that she could fabricate, nor do I think that it's in her nature to do so. As strange as it seems, I believe that her story is true."

"Then… she really is someone else now?" Idalia asked hesitantly.

"I'm not familiar with this form of reincarnation. Your guess is probably as good as mine. But I will admit – something is definitely different about her. I can't quite place my finger on it. Perhaps it's the cadence in her voice, or the way that she carries herself. But her identity as Elmina has manifested strongly from within. And whether that identity will blend with Bianca or overtake her, I cannot say."

Idalia sighed quietly and rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought. This wasn't what she'd expected would happen at all. Just last night, they'd finally been honest with their feelings. She had been looking forward to getting to know the real Bianca. But now, she had no idea who Bianca really was. She couldn't even bring herself to correct her thoughts – even thinking of her as Elmina felt like some sort of betrayal to Bianca, the person who she'd really fallen in love with.

"This must be difficult for you," Heinrich observed. "But maybe you both need some time. Her memories as Elmina are fresh in her mind, but once they settle, she might start behaving like her old self again."

"Yeah, maybe."

Heinrich wondered whether he ought to say anything else to reassure her, but he decided against it. False reassurances usually did more harm than good.

"I was most surprised when she told us about the Goddess," he said, changing the subject. "I've received her blessing, yet the most that I ever saw of her was a brief vision. It makes me happy, knowing that she's been with us from the beginning."

"That world she lived in sounds like it came straight from a nightmare. It's bigger than I can even comprehend. I guess it makes sense why she's so different. She even comes from a different world than us."

Great. He just made it worse. Maybe it was better to just leave it alone, he thought.

"It seems like you need some space to think," Heinrich said, standing up. "Maybe that'll help you with everything that you're feeling."

"I think… yeah, I think I do."

"Just remember, don't discount what you're feeling," Heinrich added. "What you think matters too."

Idalia nodded as he turned to leave. As he headed back to his room, Heinrich hoped to himself that Idalia and Elmina would be fine. He wanted to believe it very much. But it was just as Idalia had said – this was stranger than the fiction that it had jumped out of.

He had always thought that the scriptures and stories were instructional metaphors. Cleverly crafted prose that revealed truth between the lines. But Elmina had lived through it all. Not only that, but she'd seen the divine up close. She'd even been blessed by the Goddess – it was irrefutable proof that she was working through them.

Then why did he feel so unnerved? It wasn't that he didn't believe in her words. Faith came easily to someone like him, after all. But the picture that Elmina had painted of that era was beyond reckoning.

When he imagined what damnation looked like, he thought of the Dragon Forest in Leafre. Black stormclouds above a crimson wasteland littered with hedonistic beasts of ego. This was how he imagined the age of gods.

Humanity had risen above primordial chaos, the greatest threat in all of history. And yet, this was at once a victory and a defeat, Heinrich realized. It proved that they were capable of achieving the impossible, so long as there was something in front of them to fight. How, then, were they meant to unite in the absence of fear? And how was he to make that future come about?

The Goddess was claimed to have said that humanity was capable of saving itself, and that she merely guided them along their path of self-deliverance. Was this what she had meant, then? That humanity's salvation was entangled in their need to bear arms? That they were a bullet in slow-motion, course-corrected by the Goddess' sleight of hand, to be sent straight into a giant's heart?

Perhaps there was no stopping their trajectory, he thought. Perhaps their destiny had been woven into their design long ago. He wondered how many before him had come to the same realization. Master Grendel and Alcaster had once called themselves dreamers. Had they been humoring his naivety all along? Or had they seen a piece of themselves in him – the parts of themselves that still hoped against the grain.

Still, the question hadn't changed, nor had its aching need to be answered: how do they disentangle themselves from their design? Heinrich had to believe that the answer was out there in some form: an incantation, a rousing speech, a light in ultimate darkness. Whatever it was, it was his responsibility to keep believing in it.

The Goddess had not abandoned them yet. She was watching them, nurturing their determination to persist. It had to mean something. It had to mean that she believed that they could step off the path laid out before them.

The thought pounded against his head like a heartbeat – they might have needed the power of gods to win physical battles, but they didn't need it for the battles of their hearts. Everything they needed was already right in front of them, the Goddess herself had said so. Because though they might not know what it looked like, salvation was in their own hands – it always had been. And Heinrich was determined to find the clarity to perceive it.

. . .

"…Hey."

Idalia looked up to find Elmina at the door.

"Hi."

"Can I come in?" Elmina asked tentatively.

"You don't need to ask. You're always welcome here," Idalia replied.

Her heart skipped a beat as Elmina smiled softly, just like Bianca. She couldn't help but smile back.

"I was hoping that we could talk," Elmina said, taking a seat at Idalia's desk. "I wanted to do it earlier this morning, but I really was tired."

"That's understandable. You've been through a lot."

The silence lasted for just a second, but both of them could feel how uncomfortable it was.

"Idalia, I know that things have been changing a lot, but I need to tell you that how I feel about you hasn't changed at all. I still care about you just as much as I did yesterday, and that's never going to change," Elmina assured.

"I'm… really glad to hear that," Idalia replied, with a smile that that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"…Tell me what you're really thinking," Elmina frowned. "And be honest. I care about how you're feeling."

Idalia sighed. "Alright. I just… feel like things are different now. That you're different. I feel like you're someone else now. It's not because of anything big, either. Just small little personality quirks, and Heinrich told me that those might go away too. But… I know you as Bianca. All my feelings about you are associated with that name. Elmina… doesn't. Elmina is a stranger to me. And I know that a name doesn't change the person attached to it, but… it's just really hard for me to think of you as the same."

Idalia took in Elmina's expression as she nodded. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said-"

"No, don't apologize. I told you that I want you to be honest and I still mean it. I know you really well, Idalia. And I know that you've probably spent all day thinking about what you want to say while considering my feelings. And I've spent all day doing the same. So, let's just get right to the heart of it, without worrying that we're gonna say something wrong."

"Alright," Idalia said, nodding slowly.

Maybe she'd been worrying for nothing. Because the way that they were talking right now felt right. They'd done this a million times before. This was comfortable.

"Let me try explaining how it feels in my head right now," Elmina said. "Maybe that'll help you understand who I am right now."

She took a deep breath. "Earlier today, Heinrich was right. I was being flooded with memories about my life as Elmina. It was the first life that I tethered to my memory spell, and so it's the first and most vivid life that I remember. I'm starting to remember some of the others, but it's probably gonna take a few weeks for me to recall them. Now that the initial shock has worn off, the memories are starting to settle back into being old recollections. Right now, it feels like they happened a few months ago, but pretty soon, they'll feel like they happened in the distant past like they actually were. My memory spell will naturally organize them in a way that won't cause them to overwrite my current memories. My memories as Bianca will always be at the forefront of my mind, and the rest will be compartmentalized and tucked away somewhere. For all intents and purposes, it'll be like they don't even exist unless I'm actively trying to remember something from that time."

Idalia nodded in understanding. So it wasn't like Bianca was being overwritten after all. It was just the fact that so many memories were overwhelming her on the spot.

"And about my name," Elmina added. "It's true that my memories as Bianca are my primary set of memories. But my first life as Elmina is a special case because of how the memory spell works. Some of my habits and behaviors might change. Not enough to be very noticeable, but still a change. My later memories are still coming back to me and I don't remember how I behaved after recalling my past lives, but I like to think that I hit a balance between my current life and my life as Elmina."

"I see," Idalia said. "And that's why you're more comfortable being called Elmina?"

"It was a habit that I started with my second life, since it's easier to remember myself as one person instead of a thousand," Elmina explained. "But I can still call myself Bianca if that's easier for you."

"No, if that's what you're comfortable with, then it's not a problem," Idalia reassured. "It's true that this is a big change for me, but it's even bigger for you – I mean, you're the one who has to sort through centuries of old memories. The least I can do is help make it easier on you."

Elmina smiled widely. "You're really the best, you know that?"

"You could stand to mention it a little more," Idalia grinned.

"I can think of a way to do just that," Elmina said, leaning in and kissing Idalia's lips.

Idalia felt the blood rush to her head as she leaned into the kiss. The charged emotion carried straight from Elmina's lips into hers made her certain that nothing had changed after all. She was in love just as much as she'd been yesterday, and just as much as she'd be tomorrow.

"You know, I'm really glad that we can be like this," Idalia murmured. "I'm glad that everything that matters will always stay the same."

"I'll do anything to stay with you," Elmina said softly. "The whole world can move along without us if it means that we're stuck here together."

"There's a war going on outside, you know," Idalia smiled.

"Let it. We're alright in here."

"Right in this tiny little room?"

"Mhm. Anywhere's safe as long as it's with you."

…

Hemant was in ruins, just as it had been for over a year. After the Tarheed attack, the villagers had stayed just long enough to bury their dead before scattering into the wind. Kirston had revisited the charred town over a dozen times. The war was escalating in intensity, yet it seemed that the Huntsman King considered Hemant to be useless, despite it bordering near the capital of his new kingdom across the mountains.

Once again, he began combing through the blackened wood that had once been the floor of Elmina's house. He had vaporized the other debris in his prior visits. There were even cracks in the floorboards from where he had attempted to poke around, hoping to find even a loose strand of hair that hadn't been burned or blown away.

The loss of Elmina was perhaps his greatest blunder. He would never stop cursing himself for not doing away with that meddlesome knight. If he had been just a bit quicker, he could have killed her before the damn Noblesses had bumbled their way into his affairs.

He had no idea where they'd taken Elmina, either. Ereve, perhaps. But there was no guarantee that they'd have kept her there. The wretched refugees of the war were being shipped like overdue cargo to every corner of Maple World. There was no telling where Elmina was now.

The ring, at least, had its magic tethered to her soul. He'd been able to use it to gain a rough location of where her next incarnation was. But the ring was now lost to him, as was the book. If those cursed Tarheed soldiers hadn't interfered, he would've made sure to take back both immediately after having Elmina prove her lineage.

Now – now he had nothing. Without anything that belonged to Elmina, he had no way of casting a locator spell. Which was why he'd been combing through the rot and rubble like a rat scrounging through filth. But the fire had destroyed anything that had once belonged to Elmina.

He had even attempted to find a trace of her son, whom she would undoubtably keep by her side, but the one charred wooden toy that he'd found had barely created a slight wisp before the toy had turned to dust. He had to accept facts – there was nothing left of her now.

Fuming, Kirston teleported himself back to his tent. His desk was littered with papers on his research – research that now meant nothing without Elmina's book. The rage welled up inside him as he slid his hand across the desk, scattering the papers on the floor. Countless years of careful planning, and one mistake had left him right at the beginning.

"Elmina… that damned woman. Is there truly no way to find her? Am I to waste more precious time scouring every inch of this godforsaken land? The work must be finished. I must bring back the one who can break the will of the world. Only through him will we return to glory and reclaim the power of the ancients…"

Suddenly, he had a realization – something he could only consider because it was a last resort. The answer lay at his feet. Looking down at the scattered pages of his research, he found it. The translations of the book, as much as he had been able to decipher. Elmina, that foolish woman, had created countermeasures against her work being copied. No doubt to protect her spells that had been outlawed at the dawn of the new era, when the rule of three had been established.

The spells that she had created were fascinating. In fact, it was the only reason why he still needed her. Elmina had thought that she had created an ironclad defense, but he had only recently discovered a hole in her security – her spell, which had made the pages of the book untranscribable, could not prevent him from copying a translation of the text in another language.

Despite this, however, he had been unable to copy down all her spells. They were simply too complex and far too many. He could make Elmina translate their meanings, but they were useless in any other language but their original.

He had instead settled for having Elmina translate the entirety of her research on the gods. He had assumed that he would always have her as the key to her forbidden spells, but now that she was lost to him, he needed to get her back. Even he didn't know the full extent of the spells that she had created, and as they had been created by one who had spent centuries observing divine powers, they would undoubtedly prove useful on his quest.

But for now, there had to be something inside the Book of Ancient about the ancient gods. Something that would help him get Elmina back. And flipping through his translated text, he found his answer:

Laevia, the goddess of travelers. Though most of the gods are selfish tyrants, there are a few notable exceptions (see the section on Archelon for more details). Laevia's domain is a rare haven for those who do not live under the protection of a god. Travelers who enter her domain will find themselves in a city known as Partem, inhabited by the native Karuppa race.

As the goddess of travelers, Laevia will allow weary souls to rest in the grove of her sacred trees for a short time, just long enough for their injuries to be tended to. The wood of her trees contains her divine power, and thus, they can be considered her holy relics. Her sacred trees have the power to heal the sick and give guidance to those who have lost their way, which is what makes Laevia the patron goddess of travelers.

Addendum: The sacred grove has been burned down during the war. The Karuppa have fashioned a compass from the wood of the last remaining tree in the hope of preserving her power. Several of Laevia's followers have in their possession a handful of seeds. They plan to plant these seeds around Maple World in order to revive the sacred grove.

Addendum 2: During my travels, I have encountered evidence to suggest that one of the seeds has sprouted into a tree deep inside El Nath. I will make a note to confirm this rumor personally.

Addendum 3: I can confirm that this sacred tree contains the dormant power of Laevia. A tree sprit has also chosen to inhabit it, no doubt because it, too, has sensed the sealed power of the gods within. I cannot help but wonder whether any other trees have been planted in this world. As this is the only tree which I have found, I must assume that this tree and the compass in Partem are the last two relics of Laevia in existence.

This was his last hope. According to this page, the relics of Laevia had the power to give guidance to those who had lost their way. By the laws of magic, locating someone without any trace of them was considered physically impossible. However, this was the power of a god. The sacred tree could help him find Elmina – he was sure of it. There was still the question of how he would draw out the ancient power, but he would find a way. He had to. There were no other options left to him.

From Elmina's notes, it appeared that there were two relics left. The compass in Partem and the tree in El Nath. And he knew exactly where the tree was. The Huntsman King had holed up in Astafi, where he was plundering the mine dry. According to reliable rumors, it was said that there was an ancient tree spirit dwelling somewhere deep inside the mine, exactly like what Elmina had written.

There was risk in walking straight into the heart of Tarheed territory, but this was his only sure lead. Searching for Partem would take too long, and there was a chance that the compass relic may have been already destroyed. No, he had no choice this time. The tree was right there for the taking. There was too much at stake for him to fail again.

"Elmina… there's nowhere to hide this time. I will have you back at my side. And this time, I will never let you go."