A/N: Thank you for the warm review, bilmysleepy (yes, Irene was actually unconscious during the battle. This chapter might answer some of it.) Thank you to the new reader who followed and faved the story too. Your support is much appreciated.
To all readers: Sorry for the late update. I was so busy these days. Thank you for reading.
As the reality of the situation settled in, Irene sighed softly, cradling the now-sleeping Erza in her arms. The warmth of her daughter's small form against her chest was comforting. The heaviness that had been suffocating her heart seemed to lift by her presence in her arms.
Visibly weary, Irene felt a heavy cloak around her shoulders, offering a warmth that she hadn't realized she needed. She glanced at Charteris, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his appearance. The stark darkness of his hair, the absence of the holy magic that had once radiated from him, struck her as hauntingly familiar. Her heart clenched as she swallowed the lump in her throat. There was something about him that reminded her too much of that Belserion. The mute knight, the slave she once loved, the man she had once cherished, the Belserion she had thought who used her.
"Let me carry her," he offered, gesturing to the child in her arms. "I'll teleport us back to the kingdom. You need rest, Irene."
For a moment, she hesitated, her gaze locked onto his face. The resemblance was undeniable, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Do I see things? Irene asked herself, unable to fathom the man before her. Could the man she had once loved and who had caused her so much pain be standing before her now?
"Please, just this once, Irene."
Slowly, almost reluctantly, she nodded, allowing him to take Erza from her arms. As he carefully cradled the child in his arms, Irene felt a strange sense of déjà vu wash over her. The way he held her daughter, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her—it was all too familiar. For a brief moment, the weight of the past crashed into her. As she watched him, the realization dawned on her like a cold, piercing wind. It was him. Charteris Belserion. He was him. The man who had once played with her heart, who had twisted her life with deceit, and yet, the very same man she had loved more than anything. The father of her daughter, the knight she had cherished and despised in equal measure.
A few hours later
When they arrived, Belserion laid Erza gently on Irene's bed. Irene watched, her emotions a tangled mess inside her, as he turned to leave the room. His black hair fell over his eyes, obscuring his expression, but she could sense the tension in his posture. Before he could reach the door, Irene found herself speaking, her voice breaking the silence.
"Why did you do it?"
Charteris paused, turning back to her with a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"
Irene hesitated, unsure how to voice the turmoil inside her. "Why did you save my daughter… and lose your holy magic?"
The question hung in the air. Irene knew what his magic had meant to him. It was the legacy of his mother, the saintess, the one thing he had that reminded him of her. He looked away, his expression unreadable.
"I didn't save her," he said quietly. "It was you who saved her."
Irene wanted to believe that it had been her own efforts that had brought Erza back, but she knew better. She had felt her daughter's heart stop and had seen the life leave her eyes. The truth was evident in the loss of his holy magic, the price he had paid to bring Erza back from the brink of death. His sacrifice was something she couldn't ignore, something that muddled her conflicting thoughts even further.
"It was you who saved her. I will ask the pope to check on your daughter," he said as he turned and closed the door behind him, leaving Irene alone with her thoughts.
She sat on the edge of the bed, grappling with the storm of emotions raging within her. Had Charteris Belserion always been like this? She asked herself as she realized the hidden truth of his actions. Had he always been there for her, even when she couldn't see it? Irene's mind swirled with conflicting thoughts. Had he always been silently protecting me, even when I had been too blinded by my own grief and rage to see it?
Irene sat in silence, the conflicting emotions pressing down on her. She knew it was wrong—deeply wrong—for Charteris to have erased her memories of her daughter. The very thought of it still sent a cold shiver down her spine. But now, as she watched the sleeping child, the full extent of her desperation became clear. In those dark moments, when the grief over her child's death had crippled her so completely that she had wanted nothing more than to end her own life, perhaps that act of erasure had been the only thing keeping her from the edge.
His actions, though invasive, had been a twisted form of protection. Irene couldn't deny that. They felt so wrong, yet in the twisted reality of her life, they had been the only thing keeping her tethered to the world. If it weren't for Charteris's decision—misguided as it was—what would have happened to her? Would she have had the chance to reconcile with her daughter, to hold her again, to feel the warmth of her small body against her own if another man decided to end her life years back then? The thought sickened her, but at the same time, it made a certain kind of sense.
It was as if, in the cruelest twist of fate, this had been the last resort to mend the shattered lives of those involved. A desperate, painful option that somehow gave them all a second chance, a chance they might not have had otherwise. It was twisted; it was agonizing, but in its own way, it was the only option that offered a path to peace.
"Save my brother for me,"
Those words echoed in her mind, a memory of the person who had saved her on Tenrou Island, the one who had caused her to be transported a hundred years into the future. Who had that person been? Charteris's sister? Irene thought. If so, perhaps now it all made sense. Perhaps, in her own way, she had seen that this was the only way to save them both—to give them a chance at redemption and reconciliation, no matter how painful the path.
Irene froze as she absorbed his words. The sight of him now bent on his knees before her, laying bare his reasons and confessing his guilt, was overwhelming. The raw vulnerability in his voice, the way his eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and the genuine remorse that laced every word struck a chord within her. She bit her lip, trying to steady herself as silence wrapped around them like a thick, suffocating blanket. She wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but the words stuck in her throat, refusing to come out. Her mind swirled with anger, sorrow, confusion, and a faint, hesitant glimmer of understanding.
He waited, his gaze fixed on the floor, unable to look her in the eyes as if bracing himself for the worst. "I don't deserve your forgiveness," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But I needed you to know... how deeply I regret everything."
The silence between them stretched on as Irene struggled to find her voice. She felt the truth of his confession cutting through her like a knife. Despite everything he had done, despite the pain and suffering he had caused, there was something achingly human in his regret, something that made her see him not as the monster she had once believed him to be but as a man who had made terrible mistakes and was now paying the price for them. But could she forgive him? Could she let go of the anger that had fueled her for so long, the resentment that had kept her going when everything else had fallen apart?
Irene's mind swirled with unanswered questions. She couldn't respond to his confession, not yet. There was something more she needed to understand, something that had haunted her ever since she regained her memories. She wanted to confirm it from his mouth if he was indeed her lover. She wanted to confirm if this very man before her was also the man she had once loved. She needed to know, needed to grasp some sense of closure for the part of her that was still Zera. Her heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself, gathering the courage to ask the one question that had been burning inside her since the moment she had deemed him her lover. So instead of answering, she asked in a whisper, "Did you ever once love me... Knight?"
The old nickname slipped from her lips, bringing with it a flood of memories for the both of them. The moments of shared laughter, of secret meetings, and of a time when everything had been different came rushing to their senses. Her words hung in the air as she watched him.
"Did you ever once love me... Knight?"
Belserion froze at her question. The name she called him sent a chill down his spine. It was a name he hadn't heard in what felt like an eternity. A name that carried with it memories of a time when deceit and love were hopelessly entwined. He could barely breathe as the suffocating silence stretched between them. How could he even begin to answer that question? The truth was too painful, too complex. He had played with her feelings, manipulated her for his own ends, and yet, in the midst of all that, he had found himself caring for her in ways he had never intended. But to admit that now, to acknowledge that the woman he had hurt so deeply was the same woman he had loved more than anyone—how could he possibly say those words out loud?
Belserion's hands trembled as he hesitated, struggling to find the courage to speak. His mind raced, memories flashing before him. He had tried to deny it, to suppress it, but now, standing before her, he couldn't hide from it any longer. Slowly, he bowed his head, his hands clenching into fists as he fought against the storm of emotions raging inside him. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on him, but he knew he couldn't keep bottling it up. Not now. Not anymore.
With a trembling hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace—the one he had kept all these years, despite his efforts to forget, despite everything.
"I..." His voice broke as he struggled to form the words. "I could never bring myself to get rid of it," he admitted as the necklace dangled from his fingers. "Even after I erased my own memories, I couldn't throw it away. Because... because perhaps my heart knew it was yours." He paused, looking down as he started fumbling his fingers.
"I was a fool, Irene. I thought I could play with your heart, that I could manipulate you for my own ends. But somewhere along the way... I lost myself."
He took a shaky breath, the confession tearing at him. " I fell in love with you. And it terrified me. It still terrifies me."
He looked up at her then, his eyes filled with anguish. "I never wanted to admit it, even to myself. It felt so foreign, so wrong, after everything I did to you. But now..." He hesitated.
"I don't expect you to forgive me," he said, his voice breaking. "I don't deserve it. But I needed to tell you… I needed you to know that I love you, even if it's too late. Even if it changes nothing."
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to steady himself. "And if you still want to kill me… I won't stop you. Maybe it's what I deserve. But I couldn't let this go unsaid any longer."
Irene was left momentarily speechless by Belserion's confession. The weight of his words, laden with years of buried regret, resurfaced upon them. She opened her mouth to respond, to confront the maelstrom of feelings surging within her, but before she could utter a word, Erza stirred in her sleep.
"Mommy, st-stay with me," Erza pleaded, her voice trembling even in her dreams. The sound of her daughter's distress snapped Irene back to the present moment. She squeezed Erza's hand, her heart aching as she noticed the tears forming in the child's eyes.
"Shhh, Erza, I'm here." She rubbed her daughter's back, trying to ease her sobs.
The wanting to comfort her child momentarily eclipsed everything else, and for a brief moment, the world narrowed down to just the two of them.
"Mama?" Erza's eyes fluttered open, and upon seeing Irene, she began to cry, her small body trembling with the residual fear of her dream.
Irene instinctively scooped Erza into her arms, cradling her close as she rocked her back and forth. "It's okay, dear. Mama's here," she whispered.
She pressed a kiss to Erza's forehead, trying to soothe her daughter's fears even as her own heart threatened to break under everything she had learned through her lover's confession. As she focused on comforting Erza, Irene felt Belserion's presence fade behind them. Perhaps he felt that he had intruded upon this private moment between mother and daughter. Irene knew that the weight of his confession felt too heavy in the presence of their daughter, so she was somehow both relieved and conflicted. His departure left a hollow ache in her chest, but she also knew she needed time to process everything. The revelations of the day were too much to bear all at once.
The next morning
Irene sat quietly by the window, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains as she read the letter she had received from the academy. The parchment crinkled slightly in her hand as she sighed. Erza would be excused from class for two weeks, allowing her time to recover after the intense strain of awakening her magic.
Heine winced, misinterpreting her sigh as a sign of anger. But Irene's thoughts were far from that. She knew exactly who had approved and recommended this leave: the archmage, Charteris. Despite the events yesterday, Irene found herself thankful for his actions. The time off would allow Erza to rest and recover, and more importantly, it would give Irene precious moments to spend with her daughter. As Irene turned her gaze to the bed, she saw Erza beginning to stir. The young girl shifted under the covers, her eyes slowly fluttering open. Irene moved closer as she reached out, gently holding Erza's small hand in hers, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
"Good morning, my daughter," Irene whispered.
Erza, still half-asleep, smiled faintly and snuggled closer to her mother for an embrace. "Good morning, Mommy," she murmured, her voice soft and drowsy.
"Are you tired, dear?" she asked gently, noticing how Erza clung to her, refusing to let go of the embrace.
"Mommy's so warm," Erza replied, burying her face in Irene's arms as if seeking comfort in her mother's embrace instead of answering her.
Irene's eyes softened, and she wrapped her arms around Erza tighter, holding her close. "Then stay right here with me, love. There's no rush, and you can rest as long as you need."
A few days later
A day before the Spring Festival, Irene found herself standing in the grand cathedral. She had come to consult the pope about Erza's health progress. However, she was still puzzled by the necessity of meeting him here in the cathedral rather than in the comfort of their quarters, considering the short distance from the cathedral to their quarters in the palace.
Erza walked beside her, her small hand held tightly in Irene's. Irene couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest. Larcade had specifically requested that Erza accompany her to this meeting, but as they approached the altar, he made a request that immediately put Irene on edge.
"Lady Irene," Larcade began, his voice calm but insistent, "I must ask you to excuse your daughter for a moment. There are matters we need to discuss privately."
Irene's eyes narrowed as she looked at the pope, her grip on Erza's hand tightening. "Why must she leave? Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of my daughter," she replied, her tone edged with irritation. She didn't like the idea of being separated from Erza, especially in a place that, despite its holiness, felt increasingly unsettling.
Larcade raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I understand your concern, Lady Irene, but I assure you, no harm will come to Erza. She will be safe here in the cathedral, under the protection of the paladins. But what I need to discuss with you is sensitive in nature and may be difficult for her to hear."
Irene's heart pounded. She didn't want to leave her daughter, not for a moment. The memories of the past, of being separated from Erza, still haunted her, and the idea of even a brief separation filled her with dread. But Larcade's eyes held a quiet plea, and despite her misgivings, Irene could sense that whatever he had to say was of grave importance. She glanced down at Erza. With a heavy sigh, Irene knelt down to Erza's level and spoke.
"Erza, the pope, and I need to speak privately for a moment. I need you to wait just outside the door, all right? I won't be long."
"Okay, Mommy…" Erza said as she followed the paladin leading her out of the pope's quarters.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Irene felt a wave of unease wash over her. The room seemed to close in around her, the soft light of the cathedral casting long shadows across the stone floor. Her attention snapped back to the white-haired man standing before her as he extended a parchment toward her.
"Erza's health is now fine; there are no traces of the lost magic in her core anymore. The reason why I asked you to excuse her for a moment is because of the task you asked me about before. You asked for confirmation if she was your daughter a few days ago. I hope you'll be fine with the results of the test."
Irene hesitated for a moment as she reached out to take the parchment. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unrolled it, her eyes scanning the familiar script. The words confirmed what she had feared and hoped in equal measure: Erza was indeed her daughter. Her heart ached with the conflicting emotions surging through her. She had only wanted to be sure, to protect her daughter from the torment of false hopes. She needed to know, for Erza's sake as much as her own, that they were truly bound by blood and not by circumstance alone. Now, with this confirmation in her hand, Irene felt the weight of those fears begin to lift, though the lingering shadows of uncertainty still clouded her mind.
Irene's thoughts drifted back to her memories of when she found Erza swaddled in the tent of fire, the memories as vivid as if they had happened yesterday. How could her child have survived such devastation? The questions she had longed for answers to might never be fully understood. Just as she was lost in thought, Larcade's voice broke through the silence.
"Lady Irene," he said, gesturing toward two figures who stepped forward from the shadows. Irene tensed, her muscles tightening instinctively as she recognized the cloaked woman who had been involved in the incident with her daughter's captor just a few days ago.
Her heart raced, and she warily glanced at them, her mind flashing back to that chaotic moment when she had almost lost Erza forever. But Larcade's calm demeanor kept her rooted in place.
"They are not enemies," Larcade explained. "They actually wanted to tell you something, Irene." He stepped back, allowing the two women to approach.
"My name is Ultear," she began, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of remorse. "I am the daughter of Ur. Perhaps you know my mother."
Irene's breath caught at the mention of Ur, a name she recognized all too well. She was her comrade in her years back in Grimoire Heart, so the person standing in front of her was the very child Ur loved that she even resigned from the organization for her sake. Back then, Irene could never understand the weight of Ur's love for the child growing in her womb, but considering her situation now, she could really attest that such love was inherent to them as mothers no matter how cruel as a human being Irene was to herself.
The second woman with pink hair lowered her hood. "I am Meredy," she said quietly.
"We were one of the ones who… who assisted in the incident a few days ago. I know we must seem like enemies to you, but we have come to make amends and to help you understand your situation." Ultear began.
"What is it you wanted to tell me?" Irene finally asked.
Ultear exchanged a brief glance with Meredy before speaking again. "There is more to Erza's story than you know," she said.
"The truth is, Jellal, the man who kidnapped your daughter, had actually saved her from the fire," Meredy said, making Irene flinched as the lingering questions of the past seemed to be addressed in the very moment.
"He used forbidden magic to transfer your daughter into this timeline. He believed it was the only way to keep the magic within her at bay, to protect her—and to protect you from an untimely death."
Irene's heart skipped a beat, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place. "What do you mean?" she demanded.
Irene's mind was spinning. The idea that a stranger—a man she had never met—had taken it upon himself to decide what was best for her and Erza filled her with anger and confusion. How could anyone make such a monumental decision, separating a mother from her child, without understanding the pain it would cause?
"What he did was unnecessary," Irene growled, her voice laced with both anger and despair. "How can he be so sure of his actions? How could he decide to separate my daughter from me?"
Ultear's expression remained calm, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes as she extended her hand, revealing a small locket. "He came from the future," Ultear said softly, placing the locket in Irene's trembling hand. "This locket belonged to Erza."
Irene's breath caught as she carefully opened the locket, her eyes widening as she saw the image inside. It was a picture of herself, younger, cradling Erza in her arms. The sight of it was so distant, but she could feel traces of her magic in it.
"In the previous timeline, he said that you died after separating the magic from Erza's core to contain her magic," Meredy explained. "Jellal said that it ruined Erza, that she couldn't bear the loss of you. She tried everything to revert time, to undo what had happened. She used the magic facility to formulate a forbidden item to regress time, hoping that Jellal could somehow see you, protect you from her."
"Jellal believed that taking her out of that timeline by bringing her to a place where she could be safe and grow without you, could keep her magic at bay and possibly save you from your fate of dying before your daughter's eyes."
Irene's legs gave way as their words settled on her. She stumbled, reaching out to steady herself against a nearby table, the locket clutched tightly in her hand. Relief washed over her—relief that she had never been a bad mother to Erza, that her love for her daughter had never wavered. But that relief was quickly overshadowed by a crushing sense of guilt and sorrow. The realization that the young woman she had seen in her dreams, the one who had seemed so familiar yet so distant, was, in fact, her daughter from the future. It was her Erza from a different epoch who had died trying to change their fate. The thought that her own death had driven Erza to such desperate measures tore at Irene's heart.
Slowly, Irene slumped to her knees, her body trembling as she brought her hands to her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. The shame and grief were overwhelming. "My poor daughter," she sobbed, her voice choked with emotion as she held the locket closer to her chest. "My poor, sweet Erza…"
The room seemed to close in around her as she cried, the thought of her daughter's sacrifice weighing down on her. Erza had fought so hard, had given everything, all to save a mother who had never stopped loving her. The enormity of that love and the pain that had come with it was almost too much for Irene to comprehend. Ultear and Meredy stood by in silence, giving Irene the space she needed to grieve, to come to terms with the truth that had been hidden from her for so long. They understood the pain she was feeling, the guilt and sorrow that would likely stay with her for some time. But they also knew that this was a turning point—a moment where Irene could begin to heal and rebuild her life with the daughter she still had.
After a few more minutes of gathering herself, Irene took a deep breath and exited. However, as soon as she stepped outside, she was met with an unsettling silence—Erza was nowhere to be seen. Panic immediately surged through her, and she quickly activated her eye magic as she sought out her daughter's presence. Now that Erza had awakened her magic, Irene was able to locate her aura with relative ease. What she saw through her vision, however, shocked her to the core. Erza was in the graveyard behind the cathedral, a place reserved for nobles and heroes who had passed on. The sight of her daughter there filled Irene with both confusion and concern.
Without hesitation, Irene teleported herself to the cemetery, the familiar surroundings of the cathedral vanishing in an instant as she reappeared amidst the silent tombstones. The air was cool, and it accompanied her arrival. As she looked around, her eyes quickly fell upon Erza, who was kneeling at the stone monument, placing white roses with delicate care.
Beside her stood Charteris. Irene's heart skipped a beat as she hastily ran to her daughter, her mind racing with questions. When Irene reached them, she was stunned to see the peaceful expression on Erza's face as she prayed. After a while, she gently reached out and held Erza's hand, helping her up from the ground.
"What are you doing here?" Irene asked softly.
Erza dusted off her clothes as she looked up at her mother. "I merely wanted to pay respect to your real daughter. She had no tombstone under her name, so I asked the archmage where to pray for the repose of her soul."
"What for?" Irene asked, struggling to comprehend how deeply this misconception had affected her daughter. She was at a loss for words, unable to fathom how to begin explaining the truth—that Erza was her real daughter, that she had never lost her, that the child Erza believed she had replaced was, in fact, herself, lost only to time and circumstance.
Erza's gaze dropped to the roses she had placed, her expression laced with sadness. "I had always wanted to replace her spot as your daughter," she admitted quietly. "I know it was selfish, but without her existence, I'm sure you wouldn't have taken pity on me. So, at least, I can perhaps thank her by praying that she is well wherever she is right now."
Irene felt tears welling up in her eyes. She had to tell Erza the truth, but how? How could she explain that there was no other child, no one she had lost and that Erza was her true and only daughter? With a deep breath, Irene knelt down to Erza's level, cupping her daughter's face gently in her hands. Irene's heart raced as she struggled to find the right words. She knew that she couldn't keep it from Erza any longer.
"Erza, what if I told you that…" Irene began, her voice trembling as she fought to steady herself.
"What if my real daughter is a-alive?" Irene stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper. She bit her lip, terrified of the impact her words might have.
Erza's reaction was immediate. Her peaceful expression dimmed, and her shoulders slumped as Irene's words settled over her. A look of sadness and resignation crossed her face, and she turned her gaze downward, unable to meet her mother's eyes.
"That's great to hear, Lady Irene," Erza said, changing the honorifics. "I guess I just have to l-leave then," she resigned and fumbled her fingers.
"No, it's not like that." Irene insisted, not wanting the misunderstanding to fester any longer.
"What if I told you that you are her?" Irene asked, making Erza look up at her with tears streaming down her cheeks.
A/N: Thank you for tuning up. We are headed towards our final chapter. Thank you for all the love that you shared with this story. It might take a while, but I hope you'll leave some reviews. Thank you. Might update next week. Bye for now.