A Morning Filled with Emotions.
The awakening of my consciousness immerses me in a desolate scene. The cold and damp morning looms over me, saturating every fiber of my being with its icy presence. The relentless sound of the rain falling mercilessly intertwines with my thoughts, reminding me of the cruelty of this fateful day.
Time and again, I stood on the brink of death, confronting countless perils. It's not that I lack the capacity to redo it, but the very idea is terrifying.
To go through all this again would not only heighten the difficulty but also jeopardize the detection of my deceptions by Puck. Given my profound knowledge of this world.
I would be compelled to forsake my ambitions and assume the role of a mere laborer, resigning myself to the helplessness of witnessing events unfold without the power to intervene. I do not wish to follow the same path as the protagonist in the novel.
Though, on the other hand, for the protagonist, this did not occur.
The overwhelming sense of helplessness in the face of the massacre, suffering, and loss that I witnessed will be nothing more than a burdensome weight I shall carry on my shoulders.
Then, I recall the face of that mother.
Then, I recall the corpses of the people.
Those I could not save.
Those I will let perish.
The weight of responsibility and the inevitability of tragedies become an unbearable burden on my shoulders, threatening to crush my spirit. I feel nauseous; everything I did initially was for triumph, yes, but it came at the cost of innocent lives.
Amidst this internal storm, a question emerges forcefully:
Which path should I choose?
To accept repetition, forsake my ambitions, and submit to helplessness, or to transcend the boundaries and find a way to change the imposed destiny?
At this critical juncture in my narrative, my decision shall be the guiding beacon, even as dangers and darkness lurk with every step I take.
The miasma of the witch, that ominous and suffocating force, appears to have reached its limit in its advance. A glimmer of relief takes hold of me as I notice that my door, that threshold, still stands, and I exhale a sigh of serenity.
It seems that, at least for now, I can breathe more calmly.
As I sit on the bed, my gaze falls upon Rem, who rests in a nearby chair. Her normally radiant, sky-blue hair seems to lose its luster under the relentless rain that falls today.
The expression on her face betrays evident dejection, her eyes swollen, and her countenance dulled.
I would like to turn this moment into an oasis of serenity, fill it with charming moments that erase sorrows and bring a smile back to her face.
But who am I kidding, she tried to take my life. I cannot do it, besides.
The responsibility I bear weighs on my shoulders, reminding me that every moment of laziness or distraction can be paid for at a high price.
It's hard to accept, but I've learned the hard way that ignoring warnings and plunging into denial only leads to death and the suffering of those around me.
Every time I averted my gaze from harsh reality, the consequences were devastating. Now, I face the reality that I am once again trapped in a nefarious cycle.
Doomed to relive past tragedies.
It is time to act, to confront the truth, and to fight against the fate that threatens to repeat itself.
Time is of the essence, and I cannot afford another mistake.
Starting with the village.
Roswaal did it so that I would gain their trust, perhaps because I had not interacted with them before.
I gently release Rem's hand from my grasp and stand up with determination. I realize that I am still dressed in a robe, an image that no longer reflects my true self.
I will no longer be a mere servant, a puppet in the hands of those who take advantage of innocence and ignorance.
Reality strikes me with overwhelming force. How could I have been so foolish? How could I have yearned to immerse myself in this world, despite being aware of the depravity that resides within it?
I shed my robe with resolute gestures and, in silence, don my customary attire. Fortunately, I have kept my clothing clean and orderly.
Upon closer examination, however, I realize that Roswaal has also wrought the destruction of his own generations, condemning them to a cycle of depraved and macabre soul changing. His repulsive thirst for love and control has laid waste to everything in its path, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair.
A sensation of revulsion takes hold of my being, filling every fiber of my essence with deep disdain for this abominable being that hides beneath a facade of kindness.
I cannot remain idle while evil persists, and lives are sacrificed for his sinister ambition. The notion that Roswaal might find redemption is a ludicrous illusion. A psychopath such as he lacks the capacity to comprehend the wickedness of his deeds.
In his twisted mind, all his actions are justified, no matter how many corpses pile up in his wake.
I cannot allow him to continue existing. His death has become an imperative necessity. I will wait for the opportune moment, when he can no longer serve his selfish purposes, to end his life.
I will kill him; I will kill him when he ceases to be useful.
I will kill him.
As I am about to leave my room, Rem reacts, opening her eyes. Upon seeing that I am not in bed, she directs her gaze to the door. Our gazes meet in a moment of profound connection. Her eyes, now teary, reveal the torrent of emotions coursing through her being.
A solitary tear slides down her face, but her smile persists, albeit tinged with sadness. In this instant, her expression mirrors my own inner state: unbalanced, tormented by the anger and nausea consuming me.
I breathe deeply, attempting to find the calm I so desperately need in this chaotic moment. I must be rational, organize my thoughts. The frustration I feel over Roswaal's actions threatens to cloud my judgment, but I know I cannot allow that to happen.
Every decision I make now must be calculated, strategic. I attempt to expel the anger from my being with a long, deep sigh. Only then can I find the mental clarity required to face the impending challenges.
Although guilt consumes me for being partly responsible for Roswaal's actions, I know that yielding to emotions would only worsen matters. Coldness and objectivity must be my allies in this critical moment.
"Good morning," I say to Rem, my smile warm and reassuring, attempting to convey confidence and tranquility amid the surrounding distress.
Rem looks into my eyes, then wipes away her tears and nods, saying, "Yes, good morning, Marco."
Her response, though laden with sadness, signifies that I have earned her trust. It's a small comfort amidst the chaos that surrounds us, a glimmer of hope on this dark path we have traversed together.
I return to the bed and sit, preparing for the next step in this uncertain situation. I feel the responsibility to act, to do something for Rem, who has saved me on two occasions. It's an act of gratitude and reciprocity, a way to show that I value her help and protection.
Yes, only for saving me twice...
Before I can articulate my thoughts into words, Rem interrupts me. Her voice sounds broken, filled with remorse and sorrow. She tightly grips my hands, her gaze averted to the floor. Her tears fall onto our intertwined hands, and I sense the weight of her guilt in the air.
"Forgive me, Marco. If I hadn't acted this way, if I had helped from the beginning," she says, imposing her emotions upon me. "If only I had acted better."
Her words halt, perhaps waiting for condemnation or insult for her supposed responsibility in the tragedy. However, my voice remains calm and devoid of emotion as I respond to her confession.
"If that hadn't happened, perhaps more people would have been saved," I say, my words devoid of reproach, merely an acceptance of the reality we find ourselves in.
I concede that alternative choices might have potentially preserved more lives. However, in this moment, apportioning blame will prove fruitless. Rem's response to my words is understandably cautious. She anticipates my condemnation, perhaps even insults for her perceived negligence. Nonetheless, I strive to maintain composure and objectivity in my discourse.
"But you did not," I continue, my gaze rising to meet Rem's, endeavoring to restrain my own emotions. While my countenance may reflect a blend of frustration and restraint, my primary objective is to convey calm and stability amidst this sea of uncertainty.
"We cannot turn back time and alter what has already transpired. It is a harsh truth to accept, yet a necessary one for us to move forward." As I utter these words, they pierce my own heart, attempting to break through the protective shell I've constructed.
Rem lifts her gaze toward me, seemingly seeking some indication in my expression of how I will react to her words. She understands that I cannot deny reality, that my words carry a burden of truth she must confront. Some things have no solution.
My hatred towards her.
My hatred towards Roswaal.
With determination, I attempt to quell the emotional tumult surrounding us. Observing me, Rem vigorously shakes her head, her delicate hair cascading around her, allowing me to see both her eyes, entirely dulled and shattered.
Her lips quiver as tears continues their course. She averts her gaze once more, peering out of my room's window at the village, where only the heavy rain is visible.
Then, with a subdued voice and amidst sobs, Rem says, "That's not true, if I had..."
In stark contrast, my voice carries no hesitation as I respond, "The 'what ifs' do not exist."
This is a way to remind both of us that we must focus on the present and the steps we will take forward. It's a way to tell myself that what I am doing has a purpose. These words silence Rem, perhaps because she recognizes the truth within them.
"Rem, the 'what ifs' do not exist. There is no room for lamentations or fantasies about how things could have been. What you did will not change, lives are already lost, and if you blame yourself for it, then all that remains is to accept reality and find the best way to confront it."
My intention is to be a pillar of support for Rem in this moment. Although my hatred for her and Roswaal burns within me, I know I must control it and channel it into constructive actions. I must think clearly and make informed decisions to protect those who are still in danger and prevent more lives from being lost in this whirlwind of tragedy.
Rem shifts her gaze away from the window and directs an impulsive anger towards me. Her emotions erupt, and she looks at me, not with anger directed at me, but as if she wants to be the target, to make others feel the same self-hatred she holds.
She forcefully parts her lips, attempting to articulate something, but I do not permit her to do so.
"No, I am not finished," I declare, the tension in the room heightening as I continue to address Rem. "Are you in pursuit of absolution? Are you seeking forgiveness from others so that you may then grant it to yourself?"
I am unwilling to allow her to evade reality and immerse herself in her own pain and guilt.
"The lives lost cannot be resurrected, and as much as you wish to alter the past, it is impossible."
Rem, tears in her eyes, lowers her head, feeling the weight of her actions and the extent of the consequences. But I do not release her so easily. I release her hand and lift her chin once more, compelling her to confront reality head-on.
For the first time, I alter the tone of my voice, displaying firmness and irritation.
"Look at me when I speak to you."
Rem looks at me, surprised. She forcefully attempts to avert her gaze, but then her eyes lock onto mine. All the strength in her countenance, with which she confronted me earlier, has dissipated, leaving only a bundle of sadness and melancholy.
"You dwell in the past, wishing you could change it, but since it's not possible, you live your life in reverie. Is that not so?"
Rem closes her eyes, shaking her head with vigor. She denies everything, attempting to reject the reality of her being.
"Words of consolation and forgiveness do not resurrect lost loved ones, nor do dreams fulfill desires without effort and determination." I release her chin to address her shoulders, holding them firmly. "I want you to understand that you must confront your own expectations and desires. Your life should not revolve solely around pleasing others. Strength and direction must emanate from within."
Rem attempts to free herself from my grip, but I apply more force, demonstrating my determination that she listens and absorbs my words. I am unwilling to let her escape this necessary confrontation.
"If you wish to atone for your sins, you must move forward. If you want to do something for the families you feel you harmed, if you want to do something for the people you believe you hurt, then you must continue living."
It is essential for her to understand that she needs to take responsibility for her actions and decisions, to cease living in the shadow of others' expectations.
I could have told her what she wanted to hear in this moment, simply telling her that she does not deserve what is happening and that she is a great person, encouraging her to value herself and similar empty platitudes. However, these are not things said merely for the sake of saying them; they are beliefs that one must hold for oneself.
Releasing her shoulders, I rise and create some distance, observing Rem, who is still seated, attempting to contain her lament.
"You are who you believe you are. If you wish to continue failing, then keep living in your past." Then, I extend my hand as a symbol of a new beginning, only then adding, "But if you want to progress, achieve your goals, atone for your sins, and move forward in pursuit of your own happiness, take my hand."
The room fills with an uncomfortable silence as Rem processes my words. I haven't provided her with the response she expected; I haven't offered easy and empty solace. Instead, I have reminded her that the responsibility for her life and happiness rests within herself.
The truth may be painful, but it is that pain that makes you stronger. Making her live a lie, making her live at the expense of an obsession—those are not the paths to take.
It appears rather irresponsible to me.
Rem then attempts to raise her hand; it trembles as it moves through the air, heading towards mine. Just as it's about to make contact, she halts, using her other arm for support.
"Truly... do I deserve it?" Rem's gaze fixates on my mouth, awaiting to hear the words that confirm her worthiness and deservingness.
Despite her tears and her desire to leave her current state behind, Rem remains tethered to her past and her own insecurities.
"Yes, you do." I should say that now, just as I should tell her that I will be with her and the like. That is the path that leads to her demise.
However, instead, I tell her, "That's not for me to decide." Even with my hand extended, I offer a smile while keeping my gaze locked with hers. "You decide that. If you want to deserve it, if you want to move forward, if you want to be happy. These aren't things I can decide for you. Deserving is not something bestowed externally; it's something you must believe and pursue yourself."
I continue to reach out to her, offering support and companionship on her journey toward redemption and happiness. But it's she who must take the first step, who must decide to deserve it and strive for her own transformation.
Rem looks at me incredulously, surprised by the response I've just given her. The atmosphere is laden with emotions, and the rain falling outside seems to reflect the intensity of our conversation.
There's no easy answer or immediate solution, but it's crucial that Rem understands her destiny is in her own hands, and only she can decide if she deserves to seek happiness.
The final decision rests with Rem, and now it's up to her whether she wants to continue dwelling in the past or take the necessary steps to change and discover her own worth and happiness.
"I... do I deserve it?" Rem attempts to articulate the words, but her voice breaks into a distressed whisper. Frustrated with herself, she clenches her fists and gently strikes her own face. The impact, though mild, leaves a red mark on her cheek. "I understand."
A change reflects in Rem's gaze.
Her teary eyes appeared to have glimpsed something profound, while her trembling hands and downtrodden countenance struggled to find an inner strength.
"Though she may not believe it at this very moment, I know she yearns for happiness, just like any other soul," I remarked.
Rem rose from her chair, standing tall and resolute, fixing her gaze upon mine.
"Does atoning for my sins equate to a life of misery?" she asked with unwavering determination, seeking affirmation in my eyes.
"You can atone for your sins and still find happiness. What you deserve or don't deserve becomes irrelevant when you focus on pursuing your own happiness," I replied, conveying serenity and confidence.
"But even if no one appreciates me?" Rem questioned.
She attempted to continue speaking, but I interrupted her.
"You are mistaken about something. There are people who love you, or at least appreciate you. I don't know how many people you've spoken to, but at least Emilia has a good opinion of you. I don't know what Roswaal or other people in your life may think. But among all of them, there is one person who has loved you unconditionally since they have been by your side, right?"
At that precise moment, Ram opened the door with perfect timing. Rem was left speechless upon seeing her sister, who smiled at her tenderly.
"I must agree with you. There is nothing in the world that I love more than my dear little sister," Ram affirmed.
"But I... what I've done to you!" Rem felt overwhelmed by guilt and remorse.
Ram leaped toward her and embraced her tightly, as if she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Who knows how much Ram had longed to see Rem finally free herself by her own will.
"I know, I know everything," Ram asserted with conviction, making it clear that her words were devoid of reproach.
Rem opened her eyes upon hearing Ram's words. These were words she had heard once before, words that did not seek to reproach her. A glimmer of hope ignited in her eyes as she momentarily separated from her sister.
"Sister... I... I'm so sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't deserve your love and understanding after all I've done."
Ram looked at her with tenderness and caressed her face, her voice warm as she tried to convey her love to Rem.
"Rem, little sister, nobody is perfect, and we all make mistakes. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be loved and forgiven. Despite everything, I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you. I'm here for you, no matter what."
Tears well up in Rem's eyes once again, but this time they are tears of relief and gratitude. For the first time in a long while, she feels there's hope and that she's not alone in her struggle.
The sisters embrace once more, leaving behind the weight of the past and paving the way for a fresh start.
Although the path to happiness and redemption won't be easy, together they will face the challenges that lie ahead and support each other in their quest for a fulfilling life. In that moment, she briefly separates from her sister.
As Rem approaches me, I reach out my hand again, displaying my commitment to her. With determination in her eyes, Rem firmly grasps my hand.
"There will be many obstacles on the road, moments of sorrow and joy. I can't promise I'll be present for all of them, but while I'm here, I'll support you, and I hope you'll support me in the same way," I say.
"Yes, for myself," Rem responds with conviction. "Because I deserve to be happy, don't I?"
A smile lights up her face as she tilts her head slightly, displaying determination in her eyes. Unlike me, she has found a steadfastness in living in this world.
However, I feel a sense of detachment, a loneliness I can't help but notice. Nonetheless, I smile at Rem, grip her hand tightly, and conclude with these words:
"Whenever you wish to be happy, you will be, even in the midst of the greatest catastrophes."
I release her hand and give them both space to talk. I remain outside the room, but then I notice a small figure approaching me.