Crossroads

Mother is caressing my head softly. After crying upon her doorstep, I find solace and comfort in her arms. Mother Carol's light strokes lull me closer to sleep as the dried remnants of my tears start to fade away while I inch closer to her chest. She even hums soothingly into my ear as I lean into her more.

I don't wish for this dream, no, this wish to end. I love my family. I love them dearly from the bottom of my heart. I don't wish for them to be this sad, to be this fractured. I want them to feel the same happiness and love that I feel for them, for they are the reason I am even happy and alive in the first place.

That's why I don't understand why there is a rift between my parents. I love Mark so much for I never had the experience of having a father in the first place, the closest was Ector but I never saw him again. Mark, however, pulled me out of the brink. Made me believe. Made me find comfort and solace in this borrowed life I now have.

I still feel guilty, for none seemed to believe as to who I really am.

Yet, Mark persevered. He showed me love. He showed me happiness and that happiness eventually allowed me to connect with my sister, Victoria. My beloved sister whom I treasured with all my heart and soul. The best friend any person can ask for and my companion that I will follow and watch with all the years of my reining life. Vicky, as I came to call her, was the sister any person could ask for, and the hero that I wish to look up to for the most part.

Mother Carol, on the other hand, I admire her. I admire her work ethic, her passion, and her absolute determination to finish what needs to be achieved both in her own work (which I have no understanding of) and that of being a hero. She is a role model I wish to aspire to, even though I am rather, lazy and wish to eat and sleep all of the time, heh. I never thought ill of her, no matter what the others may think. Mother Carol cared, she cared so much that even just the act of having me along to my weekly checkups gave me the fondest of smiles.

Best of all, aside from Vicky and Mark, she was the one to calm me during my nightmares. Mother was there at my most terrible point. She was the warmth that I treasured, the warmth that I lean into now.

I love my family, I… I just wish they would all just get along.

"G-Good night… mama." I say, finally accepting that saying such a name was no longer bound to the horrible memories of the 'mama' I used to have in Britain.

I felt my mother freeze for a moment before she caressed my head again a second later.

She kisses the top of my head as I smile.

I pray to the Lonely Star once more, for the hope and love within me to endure. Not for just myself anymore, but for each member of my family.

"Good night, Amy." I hear Mother say as I feel my consciousness drift off. My mind and soul embrace sleep as the comfortable feeling of the bed and my mother's arms now sway me off.

One more thought comes into my mind as I wish for peace within my family…

"Freedom…"

What? No, why… was that me? Why would I think-

I was conscious again, but I was not in my mother's arms. Where was I? Why was it perpetually dark? Why was it… why did it feel cold, scary, and sad? I could not feel my limbs nor my body as everything was suspended in this never-ending dark.

There were emotions within the pitch-black. The kind that seemed to scream, that seemed to cry out and sob. Intense feelings, intense emotions that had weight, madness, and sorrow. I was quickly overwhelmed as perhaps this was another nightmare.

But of what? What sort of nightmare and torture allowed me to be in this dream?

Why did I have to experience it?

"YOU KILLED AMY!"

Victoria? Why did I hear her voice? Why-, oh no. I could see it. Vicky cries in pain as I watch her strike a person I do not recognize. It was a memory, a very hazy and powerful memory. One that struck me quite well as I tried to reach out. To tell my sister that I was alright, that I was alive, that I was-

No, no… NO! Why did that memory disappear? Why was the sky black? Why was the world crying out? Why was Vicky mourning with blood and fury in her hands?

Memories then came flooding within me, I screamed out. I did not want them.

They were… they were painful. Excruciatingly so.

They were all desperate, in pain, horrid, and inexplicably terrible.

I wanted to close my eyes and cover my ears… because they were just too much.

"I loved Mark… Sarah." Mother Carol's voice said as I heard a slap. I tried tuning out as more screams entered my ear. More pain as tears riddle my figurative form within this dream.

I wanted to scream out but no voice registered while I cried as I watched a red-haired boy hold the hands of his father.

There was just death. Death on the scale that I could not accept… that I could not fathom…

Until… until…

It all just stopped, and I was left in the darkness again.

The silence made me breathe. What was that? Why did I experience it all?

Why did I suffer such pain, such malice?

Why was I living this drea-

"Did you… come here to gloat? To… make fun of me for my victory?"

The darkness had a voice… no, I… I could see a face out of the dark. That face was enveloped by the darkness like it was part of it. Like they were one and the same.

That face morphed into a much more humanoid shape. One that was lying on a non-existent ground or floor as the darkness drooped around them like a blanket or a curtain.

Their face looked decidedly feminine in appearance. Long, wavy hair that seemed to be absorbed by the darkness and eyes full of intense emotion and sorrow. Those same eyes were riddled with red around them like a sheen of disappointment, exhaustion, and defeat.

Those same eyes now stared at me, like I was the reason for their pain.

I wanted to run. I wanted to make this dream end. I wish for Mother Carol to wake me, for Mark to wake me, for… Vicky to embrace me. I didn't want this. I didn't wish for this…

"If it's any of the two, well you would be happy to know that I succeeded." The voice said. Eyes filled with regret as the fear and chill I felt subsided. That malice was no longer there, only loneliness.

"Now I am forever changed, at least this version of me. Perverted, irredeemably unchangeable, and… wholly removed from the existence I once was." The voice paused before looking away. "All because I wanted… revenge and vindication. Now I'm just a hollow shell, a tool."

The face then stared right back at me as I felt the chill once more rise.

"Why are you here, Artoria? Do you wish to see a dear friend now at his lowest point?"

The face inclined their head slightly as that frown turned into a sneer.

"Do you wish to talk me to death? Even if such a notion were impossible at this point. A… fantasy that I will never reach nor achieve."

I wanted to back away, to wake up… but, why did I feel for this person? Why did I feel sad?

"I don't wish for your pity if that's what you feel. There is no turning back with me, no grand reversal in terms of my morality. I don't regret my actions, nor for the deaths of those people… thousands, millions, perhaps trillions lost from my actions, I neither feel any pain or anguish over it, for you know who I am. Yet, I feel wholly hollow from the whole experience, for I gained nothing for my rage after. Nothing that would settle the burning emptiness within my soul."

Who was this person?

"Or maybe, you just wish to talk to me, a friend to a friend to relieve some of that clout. Some of that darkness and loneliness even for a bit?" the voice asked, with a small nostalgic smile before it turned into a dismissive frown. "If it's that then I apologize for I need none of it right now."

I found myself flinching from that remark as the face looked at me with that intense gaze.

"Why aren't you saying anything? I understood quickly before that you were never one to convince a person to repent or steer away from the misdeeds of another person's actions but- oh… Oh."

The person looked at me as they raised their head slightly from their position before.

"You are Artoria. Yet not the Artoria I knew… You're… oh dear." The face of the person transforms into a small, nostalgic smile as if remembering a long, far away past. "I would say sorry for making you feel all of the nastiness you saw but… I don't think I care. Yet, I do appreciate seeing you, Artoria. I appreciate the memory of the child that I watched over for the longest time."

"W-Who are you?" I ask, surprised that my voice came back at this opportune moment.

"Someone I wholeheartedly wish you will never meet. Yet fate sometimes can be cruel… but maybe it'll be much kinder with you. Your wish is much simpler than mine, and if fate deems it so that we meet at this crossroad, then the joy and happiness I feel from you right now trump anything that I've had with my own wish." The person said as their smile turned melancholic, honest, and dare I say it, genuine.

"Why?" I ask.

"That's not for me to answer. Nor can anyone at all actually, but I do wish you some amount of good faith in your travels… and may you never be as lonely as me, treading that path."

I felt like those words echoed like a warning, like a sign of things to come, but in what manner?

"You need to go Artoria. As happy as I am to see you, you are still a reminder. A reminder of a life that I continue to ruin still." They said and before I could ask what they meant; the dream evaporated.

I open my eyes, my breathing returns as I stare at myself embracing my mother.

She stirred quickly when she noticed me awake, as I looked up at her, meeting her eyes.

"A-Amy? Are you okay?"

I nod slowly, still confused as I lean into her chest. I feel Mother holding me again tightly into her as she strokes my hair. "Was it another dream?" she asks.

"Y-Yes…"

"What was it about?"

Mother looks concerned for me as I try to remember the dream. Yet as vivid as it was, I couldn't remember it anymore. It's like, it was never there, but the emotions of the dream still remained. I simply snuggle up to her as I feel Mother softly chuckle.

"I'm here, okay? You don't have to be scared."

"I-I know. T-thank you, mama."

"You're welcome, baby."

We drift off to sleep together as I wish for a much more pleasant dream this time.

Oberon frowns as they lay into the darkness again.

At least they felt happy, even for a moment.

"Dear Child of Prophecy in thine youth was pleasant to see, Faerie King," Ciara says beside me.

"I still don't know why you're here, attached to me," Oberon remarks with a frown.

"Perhaps this was thy wish, granted by the Greater Will," Ciara replies.

"And I'm suffering for it despite it all..."

AN: I know new readers will probably not get this whole omake, but hey… this is a gift for my old readers. Thank you again for reading both stories!

And don't worry, this is wholly NON-CANON, so don't be stressed about doom and gloom in this fic.