Then... One more time.
My gaze ascends to the ceiling, yet instead of encountering emptiness, my eyes find themselves surrounded by shelves brimming with books.
In an instant, I am transported to the library, a place where I often spend time alongside Beatrice. With effort, I contain my emotions and survey my surroundings, searching for that little girl who was once abandoned in this sanctuary.
I slowly pivot my body until my eyes settle on the desk where Beatrice immerses herself in the review of the enhanced version of the steam engine plans I brought to work on. This space, enveloped by books, has become my true office, a place where I store my belongings and can concentrate on my tasks.
Beatrice, oblivious to my presence, continues to examine the plans without taking her eyes off them, despite knowing I'm here. Suddenly, her voice breaks the silence and resonates in the air with a mocking and sardonic tone.
"You are a fool, indeed," she says, pointing to the chair next to her.
I sigh, and a smile forms on my lips. It's the first time we've found ourselves in this situation, and her first word directed at me is precisely that.
I make my way to my seat, an imposing desk situated in the middle of the library, where her chair used to be. Now, the space is filled with books, creating an atmosphere of knowledge and wisdom.
Initially, Beatrice refused to share this space, but over time, she reluctantly accepted. The library is a place of constant movement and organization, and in that regard, she has proven herself to be an expert.
She possesses the gift of yin magic at incredible levels, capable of controlling the weight of objects at her will.
I sit by her side, taking my place on the right while she settles on the left, as we always do. Our relationship is undoubtedly the most rewarding of all. We work together, engage in trivial conversations, and occasionally tease each other.
The pride of a spirit has always been a challenging barrier to overcome, but I feel that slowly, Beatrice is beginning to change.
I turn my gaze towards her, but instead of receiving a response, she turns her face away, diverting her attention elsewhere. In that moment, I realize that I have made a mistake. I regret causing this reaction, and without wasting time, I quickly rise from the chair, rolling it away with speed.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaim, feeling the sharp pain coursing through my body as I kneel, attempting to contain the groans of pain.
Beatrice finally turns toward me, her eyes meeting mine, and a playful smile graces her countenance, as if she finds amusement in the situation.
"You always require Betty's assistance, I suppose," Beatrice asserts as she rises and takes my arm, employing her magic to mend it. "You were careless, in fact; she wasn't going to strike you, yet you offered your arm, and that's how you ended up injured, I suppose."
Though her words strike me, I acknowledge that facing reality was necessary in some way.
"I wanted you to use your healing magic on me. Only then can I savor your touch," I confess, eliciting an abrupt reaction from Beatrice, who instantly scolds me.
"What are you saying while I'm healing you, I suppose?!" she exclaims indignantly.
I can't help but chuckle a little at her response as she continues to mend my arm. After a few minutes, she completes the process and turns away, clearly displaying her anger.
"I haven't forgiven you yet, in fact," Beatrice declares, crossing her arms to demonstrate her indignation.
At that moment, I make the decision to kneel, as a prince would, placing one knee on the ground while keeping the other foot firm. Almost as if I were about to propose marriage, I place my hand on my chest and bow.
"I apologize! From the depths of my heart, I beg for your forgiveness, Princess Beatrice."
I am well aware of one of Beatrice's favorite stories, those in which a princess is rescued by her prince, especially if they are trapped in a tower or have been kidnapped.
That's why I always try to play along with her, even though she claims not to like it; I know deep down she enjoys it.
"I should have greeted you upon waking. That's why I sincerely apologize, from the bottom of my heart."
Every day, before dawn breaks and the sun rises in the sky, I come to greet Beatrice. Even if I have only slept for an hour or haven't slept at all, I always greet her. She says that, as a spirit, she doesn't need to sleep but does it out of habit.
So, while she sleeps, I take the opportunity to write the novel in my room. However, I know that Beatrice can see the situation everywhere, so I can't risk her discovering this.
Beatrice turns, her head lowered and a faint blush gracing her cheeks, revealing her embarrassment at my words.
"I told you not to address me like that, I suppose," Beatrice murmurs, pouting, attempting to contain her shame.
"But, my lady, I have committed a grievous sin," I say, bowing my head in a sign of repentance. "I must atone for it."
Beatrice places her hands on my head, preventing me from lifting it to see her face. She speaks calmly:
"Then you shall have to make more of that ice cream you made the other time and make plenty of it indeed."
"Thank you very much for your forgiveness!" I exclaim, grateful.
I smile as she removes her hands, and I look toward her, awaiting her reaction. However, her expression remains serious.
"You are a fool, I suppose," Beatrice says with her typical tone.
I stand up, aware that Beatrice has used her magic to dispel my fatigue as well. I control my urge to embrace her and head toward the exit.
"Tomorrow, we will work on the steam engine," I announce.
The moment I say it, Beatrice's eyes light up. Like me, she has been eager to build the machine we have put so much effort into. She approaches me but stops and turns her back to me.
"That's how it will be, I suppose," she murmurs, without looking at me.
Pleased with her response, I turn on my heel and stride towards the door. However, at that moment, arms encircle around my body. Beatrice rests her face against my back, using her magic to float and swiftly reach me. For a few seconds, she says nothing, but then speaks in a subdued tone.
"Do not exert yourself so much. I know you have something you cannot confide in Betty, but Betty is also concerned about you, indeed."
"Beatrice..." I begin to say, but at that moment, I am pushed and ejected from the library, leaving me in the vestibule outside my office.
Am I perhaps exaggerating?
I gaze at the ground and see tiny drops. I bend down, touch the drops, and begin to contemplate. I chose this path to avoid losing more people. I know I cannot risk my life in the same way as the protagonist; I couldn't bear it.
That's why I must be stronger, think harder, and push everything to the limit.
Suicide to save someone, nearly dying at the hands of monsters, watching people I care about die.
I'm tired.
I feel overwhelmed by fatigue and despair as I reflect on the harsh decisions that lie ahead. My fingers continue to touch the drops, recognizing their presence as a metaphor for the difficulties that surround me. "It's so difficult," I whisper to myself, convinced that I have no other choice.
I am weary, exhausted from the struggle. I have had moments of joy and peace.
If I had taken the fixed path, if back then my decisions had been the same. If I had not chosen to change the story, to find another path where I don't have to die.
"No," I deny in my mind.
Things no longer follow the anticipated course. My actions have altered the course of this world, as if the pages of the novel have ceased to follow the established script. Uncertainty embraces me, and I fear that if I reach a point where I cannot find solutions, if I allow exhaustion to stand in my way, I will miss the opportunity and go mad.
I return to my office and spend time organizing papers. My eyelids weigh heavily, but I know I must press on as long as my mind continues to function logically. I do not need to sleep if I can still think clearly. But sometimes, I wonder if the knowledge of a possible future has become my greatest curse.
Once I finish, I proceed to Emilia's study room. I open the door and am greeted by Emilia's radiant smile. She looks at me and greets me as she does every other day.
"Good afternoon, professor!" Emilia exclaims, letting out a small laugh.
"As spirited as ever. I suppose you are ready for our first class in a long time," I say, retrieving my notebook. "From now on, we will delve into politics and prepare your speech based on the studies we've conducted. It must be flawless to gain any advantage, or at the very least, level the playing field."
"Yes!" Emilia replies, also taking out her notes, where she has documented her work.
We begin to discuss, and Emilia shares with me the problems and benefits she has observed in the town. She has also inquired about the political stances of the people and what kind of ruler they would like to have.
"The best way to start is by addressing the minorities," I add. "If we tackle issues like racism and other relevant matters, we will have the opportunity to gain an edge.
his is quite common in my world; politicians manipulate minorities, attempting to show them a utopian future that entices them to think of a better life. Of course, unlike them, we genuinely want to achieve it."
Uncertainty and the need to find an effective strategy intertwine in our conversation. Together, we work tirelessly to forge a path in this complex political landscape.
"Yes, including the demi-humans in the town is part of our goal. Emilia understands that in the capital, races coexist, albeit with divisions and tensions among them."
It's lamentable how divisions between different races throughout history have created unnecessary conflicts, like the separation of Spaniards from Latinos, whites from blacks.
The war with the semi-humans has only exacerbated these divisions, so people are constantly sensitive about this issue.
We continue our discussions until the evening begins to make its presence felt, the moment when Emilia must depart to converse with the spirits, following the contract she has with Puck. We make our way to the backyard, where several carriages are stationed, likely part of the steam engine.
"Those carriages?" Emilia inquires, gazing at them with curiosity.
"Yes, they are for the machine that Beatrice and I will construct," I respond as we walk together.
Emilia does not pause to inspect the carriages but proceeds directly to the gazebo. I sit on the grass, observing her while maintaining my composure.
"And poof!" I feel a flick on the back of my head.
Startled, I rise and look behind, where I see Puck floating and laughing. Apparently, he had positioned himself behind me at some point to deliver that blow.
"You still need to train your sensitivity more. I left while you were talking to Lia," Puck tells me, amused.
Defeated, all I can do is shrug. Mana sensitivity is an innate skill that only develops through training or as a natural talent. As you train it, you can do things like recognizing sources of curses and other related aspects.
Additionally, I have a theory that if you practice it enough, you might even see the miasma. So, I've been dedicating time to it since Beatrice told me of its existence.
"Yes, yes, I'll do it when all of this is over," I reply as I sit back down on the grass.
Puck lands in front of me, displaying his usual curiosity.
"Now that I think about it, you always say that... What are you waiting for?" he inquires.
Ugh, I shouldn't have elaborated so much. Puck can sense changes in my heart rate, and I have no control over it. I need to come up with something quickly.
"When the phases are over, we can rest," I imagine each stage, from construction to the battle against the cult; I must use that to my advantage.
"Ehh, is it really that important?" Puck asks, moving closer to me, wearing a questioning expression. However, I hold my ground.
After a few moments, Puck smiles once again.
"Well, I suppose I don't mind," Puck says before bursting into laughter. "When I saw Emilia in that state, I thought it would be difficult for her to overcome, but now I see how much she has grown."
"She has changed quite a bit; at least she no longer speaks like someone from many years ago," I comment. Emilia's vocabulary was limited and outdated, so we worked diligently to change that. However, she has now undergone a significant transformation; this new Emilia appears to be an entirely different person.
"Although she remains herself, she has undoubtedly become stronger," I add.
Puck gazes at Emilia, his expression becoming complex. He holds her gaze as if remembering something important.
"Marco," Puck says with a deep yet calm tone, "if you had the opportunity to forget a traumatic event, would you do it?"
The question carries unexpected depth. Deep down in my heart, I wish I could erase a traumatic event. However.
"No, my life belongs to me. I am the result of all the experiences I've had, whether they were good or bad, heart-wrenching or romantic," I stare at Puck firmly. "Even if that option were offered to me, I would choose to remember."
Puck sighs and shrugs.
"True, it should be that way."
I attempt to ask Puck the reason for his question, but at that very moment, Emilia finishes speaking with the spirits, interrupting our conversation. She sees us and approaches.
Puck, without looking at me, says:
"If something were to happen at any point, I beg you to protect Lia."
Puck smiles, preparing to play with Emilia.
"I will, I promise, Master," I reply with determination, returning the smile.
Puck nods, his playful tone gone, replaced by a solemn acknowledgment as he makes his way toward Emilia. Then, Emilia and I engage in a conversation, exchanging amusing anecdotes from our time in the forge.
From comical situations to the day when Emilia ingeniously improvised an ice wheel for a stranded carriage due to a lack of spare parts.
Before nightfall fully envelops the surroundings, we decide to reveal the surprise we have prepared.
"Look!" I exclaim excitedly, displaying my cell phone screen, which bears a photograph of the constellation Emilia named.
Puck approaches, his curiosity piqued by the image.
"That's... the Puck constellation!" Emilia exclaims with a radiant smile.
I take the opportunity to explain to Puck the customs and peculiarities of my world, including the fact that this photo is an expression of affection. Puck approaches Emilia, she holds his arms, and above his head, Puck bursts into laughter.
It's a beautiful moment, one I decide to capture in a photograph, an instant that will be etched in time.
As I gaze at the image on my cell phone, my smile fades when I notice that my battery is at sixty percent. That percentage reminds me that I must make every effort to manage it carefully.
I've taken all humanly possible precautions, like removing the battery to prevent overheating or excessive cooling. But I know it's not an endless source of energy.
When it runs out, until I find a way to generate energy as we know it in my world, I will lose all the files stored on my phone, including this precious photograph.
However, as I lift my head, I notice that both Emilia and Puck are watching me while I remain absorbed in my device. I decide to change my expression and show them a smile once more.
"I took a wonderful photo," I announce with enthusiasm, turning the phone so they can appreciate the image.
In that moment, Puck is taken aback and quickly shields Emilia's eyes. His countenance adopts seriousness and concern.
"Marco!" Puck exclaims, swiftly approaching to shield the screen's contents from Emilia's view. "Emilia cannot see herself in mirrors or reflections."
Emilia begins to laugh, undisturbed by Puck's reaction. He appears to not comprehend her laughter, but I step in to clarify the matter.
"This device doesn't show a reflection; you can think of it as an ultra-realistic drawing. It captures a moment in time, as I've explained before."
Puck sighs, conceding defeat, and perches on Emilia's head, arms crossed.
"You surprised me," Puck admits, sporting a smile filled with complicity.
"I'm sorry, Puck; it was a surprise for you," Emilia says, stroking Puck's head.
Puck gazes at the photo for a few moments without saying a word, simply observing himself alongside Emilia. In my opinion, it's a beautiful image that showcases the strong bond between them.
Then, Puck tightly closes his eyes and, in the blink of an eye, places his paw on my forehead.
"Thank you, Marco," Puck says before Emilia interrupts.
"Just Marco?" Emilia protests, pouting.
Puck laughs and dives onto Emilia's face, causing her to affectionately caress him.
"It's not so difficult anymore, even though my appearance isn't good, I can certainly endure it," Emilia remarks, looking at the photo with a mix of emotions.
"With how beautiful you are," I gently adjust her hair, "it's a shame you can't see it yourself. You are beautiful, Emilia; that's your only 'sin.'"
Emilia blushes, her ears taking on a charming scarlet hue. She averts her gaze, trying to conceal her face from both of us.
Puck and I exchange glances, simultaneously winking to applaud Emilia's charm.
"So endearing," we utter in unison.
"Fools!" Emilia exclaims, turning with vibrant energy.
Emilia attempts to catch us, but both of us elude her grasp. The three of us burst into laughter together until the moment when Puck must depart. He bids us farewell as his time has ended, and we decide to resume our respective tasks.
Before parting, Emilia, in a cheerful tone, says, "Just as I trust you, I hope that someday you can trust me." Emilia smiles as she clasps her hands, then swiftly dashes into the mansion's interior, not affording me the chance to respond.
I am taken aback by Emilia's words and remain pensive as the stars begin to make their appearance in the sky.
I decide to head to my office to review the folder containing potential partners, and the data of a potential partner in Pardochia, a city in Gusteko, catches my attention. I jot down his name, Hermod, in my personal notebook.
Hermod, a curious name that means "divine war" in Norse mythology. This intriguing connection piques my curiosity and spurs me to investigate more about him in the future.
However, my thoughts return to my concerns about Rem's absence and the fact that the expected report has not arrived. I wait for hours in my office, but there are no signs of her. My suspicions are confirmed, and I decide to make my way to her room.
Upon arrival, Ram awaits me with an annoyed expression, reminding me of our previous conversation. Without beating around the bush, she firmly tells me, "At the kiosk, don't mess it up."
Ram shoots me an irritated look, purses her lips, and then enters her room. Calmly, I head toward the kiosk, preparing for whatever may be coming, aware that this place holds significance for Rem.
From a distance, I see her gaze at the firmament and reach her hand toward it. I approach silently, and she is so absorbed in her thoughts that she doesn't notice me.
I hear her words as she whispers to herself with a blend of sadness and longing, "Why? If I try so hard, I mean it, I want to say it, I want to apologize, but then..."
Rem places her hand upon her chest and lets out a slight sob. Without giving her a moment to react, I take a firm step that makes her turn in surprise. When our eyes meet, I earnestly declare:
"Forgiveness does not alter the circumstances."
Surprise overwhelms Rem, and she falls to her knees. Her tears become more intense, and she desperately tries to hold them back, but ultimately surrenders. It has been a month since we had that conversation, and now is the time to bring an end to this situation.
"Why do you say that?" Rem looks at me through tears. "I… I've only tried to help."
I bend down, take out my handkerchief, and attempt to dry her tears, but she forcefully knocks my hand away, expressing her frustration and sadness.
"If you hate me so much, why?" Rem glares at me, clutching a letter tightly to her chest.
Without hesitation, I respond immediately, "Rem, you're misunderstanding."
"Why?" She exclaims, interrupting me. "If you were going to leave me, at the mercy of the darkness."
She lightly pounds my chest again and again, delicately expressing her pain, until she finally rests her head upon it.
"Why did you say those words to me?" Rem continues to gently strike me, revealing her anguish.
I regret not having been more responsible, not having made things clear instead of doubting so much. I gaze at the sky, overwhelmed by all that I have to do, by all these unreal situations and this uncontrollable chaos.
"It's my fault that this happened, so I apologize to you."
Rem reacts angrily and grasps my shoulders in desperation.
"It's me who has to apologize! Not you, only me," she contorts her face, gazing at me with sadness.
For her, seeing herself as a usable rag, whether embroidered or not, is a sorrowful perspective. Even though she seemed happy, that wasn't a healthy way to be. Depending solely on others to find happiness eventually leads you down the wrong path.
"I forgive you." I envelop her in my arms firmly. "I apologize for not telling you earlier, truly."
Rem is surprised and tries to pull away, but I increase the strength of my embrace.
She surrenders and places her arms on my chest, hugging me gently while she sobs. I continue to speak in a calm tone.
"I forgive you, but not so you can forget what you did. I forgive you so that I can find peace."
She nods, accepting my words and letting the peace begin to infiltrate our hearts.
"That's why you must forgive yourself, Rem. You deserve the redemption you so long for. I mentioned it before, but now I say it with even greater conviction: only you can grant it to yourself." I tilt my head, bringing our foreheads together in an intimate and emotion-filled gesture.
"I, I..." Rem, who has silently endured for so long, once again seems to seek escape from her inner torment.
"You shouldn't depend on others to find true happiness," I say, gently taking her shoulders and forcing our eyes to meet.
Rem, amidst tears and with a trembling voice, exclaimed, "I have nothing else!"
I interrupted her words with an intense gaze.
"Your reason to be and your reason to perish, isn't that so?"
Surprise seized Rem, her eyes widened as if she had uncovered a hidden secret, and at that precise moment, something within her seemed to shatter.
"How do you know?" Rem trembled, and instead of surprise, she now looked at me with fear and vulnerability.
"You..."
"How do you know?!" Rem exclaimed, demanding answers. "You always seem to possess the gift of omniscience, as if we couldn't hide our deepest secrets from you."
Rem freed herself from my gentle grasp, stood up, and stared at me with overflowing fury.
"You think you can do whatever you want! You think it's as simple as that!" Rem covered her face with her hands, hiding the pain that overflowed from her being. "You've shown me the light and then abandoned me to the mercy of the darkness."
I stood up, leaving the kiosk behind, and my gaze rose to the firmament, evoking memories filled with nostalgia and affection.
"I know because I once crossed paths with someone similar to you."
Rem seemed to react, her steps slow but determined, heading towards me.
"That person bore a striking resemblance to you, Rem. She delighted in making others happy but suffered in silence, emotionally dependent on those around her. Her entire life was based on pleasing others to please herself." I raised my hand to the sky in search of solace and wisdom. "When that person lost something of immeasurable value, she did something no one believed possible."
My hand descended, failing to find the expected solace. Then, I turned my gaze towards Rem, who still looked at me with a mixture of astonishment and hope amid her tears.
"You remind me of her, that's why." My fingers caressed her cheek, tracing a gentle path of understanding on her skin. I couldn't help it; I didn't want to accept it. But I have to move forward.
"I can't reciprocate your feelings," I said, as she nodded. "You have to search for what makes you, until you realize that you are someone."
"I..." Rem's tears ran down my hand. "It's not easy; all these years, I've lived hating myself, pretending so that others can be happy, trying to compensate for the harm I've caused."
I gently move my hand to the nape of her neck, bringing her closer to my face. I tilt my head slightly and place my lips on her forehead. Rem blushes, and despite her tears, she seems surprised by my gesture.
"That's why I ask for your forgiveness. This time, I won't leave you alone. I want you to find what makes you yourself. That's why you mustn't love me," I look directly into her eyes, as serious as can be. "You must find yourself, and when you do, you'll see that someone like me isn't worth it."
With my handkerchief, I gently wipe away her tears, being extremely careful not to hurt her. She takes small breaths, trying to calm herself.
"You always seem to suffer so much, even when you smile," Rem says, taking my hand.
Rem smiles, and her eyes are indescribable. She looks at me as if she's trying to see beyond, as if she wants to delve into my being.
She places my hand on her cheek, holding it firmly.
"You can say these things, be so warm, but at the same time, you're so distant," Rem closes her eyes, pressing my hand against her. "I understand what you mean. I promise I'll work on myself, I'll seek to be Rem, I'll seek to be the Rem I can love."
A single tear, full of emotion, runs down her face until it meets my hand. Rem smiles, but it's not a smile for me; it's a smile for herself.
Rem lets go of my hand and runs back towards the mansion, but in her haste, she turns to look at me once more.
"Thank you! Thank you for coming to this world, Marco!" Rem exclaims fervently. "When I can love myself and be radiant..."
Rem looks at me with a smile, her eyes lighting up in the night, and her smile appears resolute, determined. Then, before leaving, she says to me:
"Don't fall in love with me."
Rem rushes into the mansion, leaving a silent atmosphere in her wake. Although she tries to appear strong, I can see through her facade, but that doesn't matter. She's going to grow, and if she found what she was looking for, I know she'll come out stronger.
Now, as I gaze towards the heavens, I offer a prayer that she may find a destiny different from the one she has lived so far, one that is distinct from her current path.
I make my way to the mansion, and upon entering my room, I head towards the hidden library. Beatrice is there, regarding me with displeasure.
"You took your time, I suppose!" Beatrice reproaches me, clearly annoyed.
"I am a man in high demand, my apologies," I jest, offering her a playful smile.
She pouts and averts her gaze, maintaining her haughty demeanor from her position on the bed. I approach her slowly.
I am utterly exhausted; my eyelids can barely stay open. It feels as though I have released something within me. When I draw near, I envelop her in my arms, pulling her close to me and pressing her against my chest. She does not reject me; instead, she holds onto my arms warmly.
Lacking energy, I collapse onto the bed.
"Hehe, who would have thought you'd be so considerate," I speak with a soft, weary voice, trying to remain steadfast. "There are still things to be done if you can use your magic."
Beatrice does nothing, merely remaining there, holding me with strength. I can feel her warmth, and as she begins to use her magic on me, instead of feeling more energy, I experience a soothing tranquility. Beatrice, with a warm and tender tone, remarks,
"You are a fool, indeed."
Those are the last words I hear before falling asleep. After a hellish month, I finally feel that I will be able to drift into slumber and rest in peace.