I feel the weight of my body, as though every muscle and bone are burdened with the weight of guilt and pain. The moans of the wounded beside me blend with the relentless roar of the rain falling mercilessly, as if the sky itself were mourning our misfortune.
I'm alive, yes, but the lash of regret strikes me with a force that threatens to knock me down.
"What happened?" I feel every muscle in my body tremble, as pain swirls through me while my heart weighs as heavy as a black hole.
I deeply regret not being able to protect you, Beatrice. My heart twists into a knot of anguish at the memory of your face, now just a shadow in the darkness of my shattered memories.
Now, faced with a heartbreaking crossroads, I am forced to contemplate the possibility of transforming into a monster, if that means having you back by my side.
Memories try to come through, as if warning me of an ominous sign.
The horror of that prospect intertwines with desperation, forming a whirlwind of tumultuous emotions that threatens to engulf me completely.
The rain shows no mercy; its cold, cutting drops lash my skin like stings of remorse. Thunder rumbles in the sky, accompanied by lightning that illuminates the desolation surrounding us, as if nature itself were joining the chorus of pain emanating from our battlefield.
I can feel it, barely perceptible, a fleeting echo in the wind whispering the connection with the contract that binds us.
"Beatrice," I desperately try to communicate with you within myself, Beatrice, but all I find is an icy void that cuts me like a sharp knife.
The crystal given to me by Roswaal seems to be the key to unraveling this enigma, but the shadow of the miasma infecting it darkens my thoughts with a veil of uncertainty and fear.
"Miss Crusch!" Félix's urgent voice interrupts my torment, pulling me from my musings. Crusch, with eyes laden with desperation, approaches me and places her trembling hand on my chest, as if she could find an answer in the erratic beats of my heart.
"What do you mean he won't wake up?" Her voice, punctuated by anguish, resonates in the storm-laden air. It is then that Félix, with the solemnity of a physician, reveals the truth looming over us.
"Much of that malignant energy has infiltrated your body, miss. Mr. Frey barely managed to purify himself, but as you can see, the price was high. His body, marked by corruption stains, struggles to cling to life amidst this carnage."
I should be dead in these circumstances, right? But here I am, clinging to a thread of life that fades away between my fingers like rainwater running down my skin, a constant and cold caress that barely soothes the burning of my wounds.
"But, right at this moment, when Miss Beatrice..." Crusch's words flow, laden with sorrow, and I can feel the weight of all the emotions waiting inside her, an abyss of anguish and desperation that threatens to engulf us all.
I wish I cared, but right now, in this moment of chaos and desolation, all I care about is finding a solution. I must keep calm, determined, at all costs.
I'll retrieve Beatrice, whatever it takes.
"It annoys me to be treated like useless." My words emerge with determination, breaking the heavy silence that envelops us. My eyes open, meeting Crusch's and Felix's with unwavering firmness.
Crusch brings her hand to her mouth, a forced smile appearing on her face as a solitary tear traces its path down her cheek. Felix, surprised by my abrupt reaction, rushes to channel even more healing magic onto me.
Losing my sanity is not an option I can afford right now.
On the contrary, to avenge Beatrice, I must remain as sane as possible. In this ruthless world, the weak are devoured by the strong, and I am determined to be the strongest of them all.
I must control everything and everyone; I must manipulate each individual to do my bidding, just as I did in the past.
You seem inevitable, Marco.
At that precise moment, Crusch embraces me with comforting strength. A warm sensation spreads through my body, and upon looking at myself, I notice that my arms are intact, in their place.
The sleeves of my suit have disappeared, exposing the cruel reminder of what happened, an indelible mark of the tragedy consuming us.
My heart continues to beat urgently, like a drum marking the frantic rhythm of my determination. Each pulse is a sharp reminder of the need to take drastic measures, without hesitation or contemplation.
My focus is on one thing: Roswaal. He's had too much time for his schemes, and now I must end his twisted game, no matter what it costs.
Even if I lack the ability to come back from death, even if I must use every resource available to me, even if I must sacrifice everything for revenge.
"How dare he take Beatrice from this world?" The thought ignites a cold fire in my veins, and my hands clench into tight fists, as if they could crush the injustice around me.
Though the battle is still fresh in my mind, the memory is a whirlwind of fragmented images and distorted sensations. Yet, something in me acknowledges that I managed the situation with the necessary coldness to survive.
"Crusch, we need to go," I say firmly, my voice resonating with a strength I barely recognize as I place my hand on her shoulder.
But Crusch, marked by the shadows of pain and concern, looks at me with eyes filled with anguish.
"You were in bad shape, you need to rest," her voice trembles as she responds, trying to dissuade me with her concern for my well-being.
She's changed too, more liberated, more emotional. Normally, this might have brought a glimmer of happiness, but now, all I feel is a growing irritation that intensifies with every passing second.
"Where is Frey?" I ask sharply, my voice slicing through the air, ignoring Crusch's protests and focusing on the urgent task ahead.
Felix, hands trembling, reveals his reverential fear towards me as he points to a distant part of the camp.
There, amidst the shadows and the relentless rain, stands an improvised camp, a makeshift structure that fuels my anger.
I stride towards the camp with determination, navigating the icy rain that assaults my battered body. Each drop of water seems to remind me of the pain that engulfs me, while the piercing gazes of the knights' stare at me like sharp daggers of judgment.
The air crackles with tension, as if it were a battlefield where truth and betrayal dance together in a grim waltz.
I am resolved to uncover all the secrets, no matter how dark the path ahead may be. My steps echo on the muddy ground, marking my relentless march towards the truth.
My attention shifts to my own arms, now marked with a black line extending up to my shoulders. It's the stain of the miasma I absorbed in my desperate fight for survival. I pay no mind to the curious stares around me as I grapple with the overwhelming urge to unleash my anger on those who watch me suspiciously.
"I'll kill them, anyone who dares to block my path."
I know Fourier is somehow tied to this tragedy, his influence looms over every corner of this chaos. Initially, I welcomed his presence, but there's something unsettling about his actions, like a shadow gnawing at my soul.
It's inconceivable that his appearance in this place at the exact moment of the attack was mere chance. My thoughts turn to Beatrice, to the profound loss that now consumes me, fueling a fiery anger in my chest.
My gaze fixes on Frey, and a chill runs down my spine seeing Erick Costuul's lifeless body at his feet. I glance to where the globe should be, still intact, silently bearing witness to the tragedy that has unfolded here.
I must leave, reunite with Roswaal as soon as possible. I crave that information, that glimmer of hope to see Beatrice again.
Uncertainty gnaws at my insides, urgency propelling me forward despite the rain pelting down and the pain searing through me.
I attempt to connect with the mana within me, seeking any sign, any guidance amid the chaos. Beatrice's odo feels entrenched in my body, a renewed, pure force pulsating in my veins with an unknown intensity.
It's a fleeting solace amidst the storm threatening to consume me entirely.
"I'll take Erick Costuul to Irlam, interrogate him myself," I declare firmly, meeting Frey's gaze, which hints at something beyond mere satisfaction.
Frey swiftly rises, his hands grasping my shoulders with a relieved strength, though not as firm as before.
"I'm relieved to see you well," his words filled with genuine affection, though my mind is preoccupied with pressing matters.
"Yes, I must deal with urgent matters in Irlam now. Any delay would only incite more chaos." I gently extract myself from his hold, hoisting Erick over my shoulder as if he were little more than a useless burden.
Erick remains silent, a shadow of guilt darkening his face, aware that this whole situation is the result of his reckless actions. The rain lashes the camp with ruthless fury, but the storm in my heart is so strong that this feels like a gentle morning breeze.
"The storm is quite fierce. I worry you might encounter trouble," Frey's voice carries concern as we observe the tempest unfolding around us.
I turn away, sensing Wilhelm's penetrating gaze fixed on me, as if trying to peer into my soul for answers I'm not willing to give. Without a word, I set off, the burning determination inside me consuming me entirely.
I am resolved to eliminate all those responsible, regardless of whether they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. There will be no forgiveness for anyone in this world torn apart by injustice.
There will be no forgiveness for anyone.
I return to the camp of the wounded, and upon looking at Crusch, I see her covered in bandages. In contrast, I feel strong, with no sign of weakness as when I first awoke. The rain continues to fall fiercely, but it seems the water cannot penetrate the invisible armor surrounding my being.
The mana continues to flow towards my door with relentless determination. This energy battles tenaciously against the miasma within me, a silent yet fierce struggle waged deep within my being.
Two forces collide within me, one representing darkness and chaos, the other light and hope.
And I must learn to harness both if I am to master this world and restore what I have lost.
"I'm heading to Irlam. It would be best if you stayed here and recovered," I tell Crusch, convinced that taking her along would not serve much purpose in her current state. She needs time to heal, and I cannot afford to worry about her safety while facing the challenges ahead.
I leave the camp, traversing the rain and heading towards the globe. However, as I'm about to board, I hear footsteps splashing in the rain.
Crusch runs towards me, her eyes reflecting a mix of physical pain and concern. Her voice trembles as she speaks, seeking answers I cannot provide.
"I know what happened is...!" her voice breaks, and I can see the fear welling in her eyes as she advances towards me, determined to stop me.
I could shield us from the rain with an Unseen Hand, but I choose not to. I'm not yet ready to unleash all my power and using it now would be an unnecessary risk.
I turn around, telling her she shouldn't continue.
"Wait!" As I turn to face her, she takes both my hands, holding me with a strength that surprises even me.
"Spirits, when weakened, can use their odo to transform and protect themselves, right?" Her words echo hope amidst the despair surrounding us.
But I know the truth is darker than she's willing to admit.
"Beatrice sacrificed her odo to save both of us," I respond in a subdued voice, pointing to her chest where lies the essence of the girl we lost, the girl I love as if she were my own daughter. "She gave everything for us, and now it's our responsibility to move forward, even if the weight of her sacrifice drags us into darkness."
She closes her eyes, and after a few brief seconds, I see her squeezing my hands tightly. However, what I'm saying is not a lie. She can feel it, perceive it through her divine blessing.
The truth.
"I...," Crusch falls to her knees, which surprises me. "I already knew; I heard her farewell words too. When I was healing, I barely had any consciousness, I woke up when you were already in front of Flynn."
The image of Crusch, a figure normally strong and resolute, kneeling in the rain, hits me with a sense of desolation. Though her bond with Beatrice wasn't as deep as mine, her pain is palpable, another testament to the devastating impact Beatrice's loss has left on all of us.
I nod, pushing away unnecessary thoughts. "I need to reassess Crusch if I want to use her effectively in the future." I extend my hand to help her up.
"I'm sorry," her voice is barely audible, the thunder and lightning masking our conversation. "If only I had been stronger, if I had done more..."
Her self-reproaching words pierce me like sharp daggers. She fought tirelessly, without knowledge of the future, without a guarantee of survival. She risked her life to give me time.
But the only person to blame for all this is me, along with the soulless ones who made this happen.
"The only person to blame here is the one who orchestrated everything, who's been manipulating everything from the shadows," I hold her firmly, looking her straight in the eyes. "I'm going to kill that person; I'll eliminate them and bring Beatrice back."
Every word I utter is imbued with a cold, bitter determination. The rain keeps falling mercilessly, as if the sky itself is mourning our loss. But there's no time for lamentation.
There's an enemy to defeat, a promise to fulfill, even if it costs my own humanity.
Crusch's eyes snap open, her lips starting to tremble as she averts her gaze. A mix of horror and despair reflects on her face, as if she's witnessing a vision so horrifying that it threatens to shatter her sanity. "It's probably related to Fourier's appearance too," thoughts of his arrival linger in my mind, and I'm sure Crusch suspects the same.
I try to avert my gaze, to push those terrors out of my mind, but the echo of tragedy persists, haunting me in every corner of my consciousness.
I decide to distance myself from her, focusing on the task ahead. Erick seems to have passed out when I grabbed him by the neck, but his condition doesn't concern me at all. He's a minor issue compared to the imminent struggle awaiting us. Crusch joins me in the cockpit of the balloon, ready to face the looming challenge ahead.
"Controlling the wind will be a complex task if I do it alone," I admit, acknowledging the need for assistance in this desperate situation.
Her presence is comforting amidst the darkness looming over us. I feel the communicator in my pocket, a constant temptation to gather information about the situation.
However, I decide to resist the urge. The war may be ending, but right now I need to clear my mind, plan out all my next steps. I shove Erick aside indifferently, placing a foot on his chest as a reminder of my dominance over him.
I won't hesitate to end his life if necessary, but for now, his usefulness lies in the information he can provide me.
With determination, I unfold my Unseen Hands and use them to lift the balloon, adjusting it for more efficient flight.
Despite my resolve, a strange feeling of discomfort churns in my stomach, as the miasma present in the air assaults my senses. I close my eyes, focusing on my own mana to counteract the influence of that ominous presence.
I must increase my strength; I cannot afford to fear the unknown. If necessary, I will control this force with the same determination that propels me on this mission.
The piercing cold seeps through my rain-soaked uniform, chilling me to the bone.
The screams of the wounded echo in the air. Sadness and pain intertwine in a macabre symphony that accompanies our advance into the unknown.
"Are you alright?" Crusch's voice breaks the silence, her tone laden with concern and determination.
I nod, unable to find words to express the storm of emotions consuming me.
Crusch offers me a reassuring smile before directing her attention back to the balloon's floor.
I gaze at the horizon, where darkness looms like a shroud of despair.
We face an unknown enemy, an uncertain fate. But as long as there's a spark of hope, I'll press on, determined to face any challenge that stands in our path to redemption.
I begin to generate fire, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders as the gas capsules react with a muffled burst. The flames dance frantically around us, burning with an intensity that reflects the storm raging in our hearts.
Quickly, the balloon starts to rise, its ascent marked by the roar of the wind and the crackle of the fire. I lift it even higher with my Unseen Hands, feeling the searing heat radiating from the flames.
Crusch and I use our wind magic to stabilize the balloon, battling against the forces of the wind that threaten to veer us off course.
I look down, searching for any sign of hope amidst the desolation. The only person I spot is Wilhelm, standing in the relentless rain, his gaze lost in the dark and stormy horizon.
"Marco... Do you think it's possible to do something?" Crusch asks hesitantly, her voice barely audible over the roar of the wind and the crackle of the fire.
I grit my teeth with determination, doing everything in my power to control the balloon's movement as we face the forces threatening to drag us into darkness.
I create even larger hands, feeling the weight of my power crushing my spirit as I apply pressure to counteract the force of the wind and control the balloon's recoil.
"I don't know. All I know is that I'll bring her back," I say with a determination forged in pain and desperation, as I gaze forward into nothing but darkness and the promise of an uncertain future.
Crusch offers her help, her comforting presence amidst the storm threatening to engulf us. Together, we keep control of the balloon. However, I feel my body starting to burn with fury, the flames of authority consuming my sanity with every breath.
The effects of using the authorities are affecting my emotional control, a reality we also see in the protagonist of the novel. But I won't let it control me. If anyone must keep control, it will be me, even if the price is my own humanity.
As we pass over the peak of the mountain, my thoughts turn to my soldiers, brave men and women who have sacrificed everything for this cause. Surely, they have faced threats much more powerful than we expected.
Even if by chance they have lost their lives in this battle, all I can do is trust in their bravery and sacrifice.
"Marco!" Crusch exclaims, her voice filled with urgency and fear, causing me to refocus my gaze forward, toward the abyss opening before us.
Looking up at the sky, I realize that the lightning is gathering in this area. Then, I understand that this is the epicenter of the storm surrounding us, a whirlwind of fury and despair threatening to mercilessly engulf us.
Now that I have spiritual mana, my sensitivity to mana has increased considerably. I feel every pulse of magical power surrounding us, a cacophony of energy crackling in the electrically charged air. It's evident to me that this is no ordinary storm, but a supernatural phenomenon that defies all logic and understanding.
"Roswaal..." I try to take control of the balloon, but the winds increase in intensity relentlessly, as if nature itself is determined to challenge us in our struggle for survival.
Helplessness seizes me, the frustration of not having control over my actions tormenting me. In times like this, when the future seems predestined, any action we take seems already written in the book of destiny, a fate from which we cannot escape.
My plan has not gone according to plan, Otto's actions were not impactful enough to alter the course of events. We plummet downwards, towards the darkness opening before us like a hungry mouth eager to devour us.
"We're falling down!" I exclaim, trying to make myself heard over the roar of the storm surrounding us.
The balloon starts shaking violently, the fierce jolts threatening to throw us into the void at any moment. I rush to Crusch's side, feeling her trembling body in my arms as we struggle to stay upright.
She's afraid of heights, and though she's worked on it, it's still a manifestation of her mind, something she can't fully control.
"Let's use magic! I'll find a way to shield us from the lightning!" I shout with desperation, trying to use my Unseen Hand to create a protective barrier around the balloon. But it seems as fragile as a spider's web against the storm's ferocity.
Amidst the chaos, the ground disappears completely from view, swallowed by darkness and the storm's fury. Crusch holds onto me firmly, rain streaming down her face as she employs her wind magic to keep us afloat amidst the chaos.
The wind increases its fury with overwhelming intensity, dragging us at breakneck speed towards our uncertain fate.
The flames of the crystals flicker out, devoured by the surrounding darkness, and I lose all control over the balloon as we hurtle towards the unknown.
While I hold Crusch tightly, I struggle to regain control somehow, but the force of the wind drags us with a determination that seems to steer us towards an unknown destiny.
The balloon tilts dangerously, and I'm forced to cling desperately to the railings and supports to avoid being swept into the storm's maelstrom.
Crusch is in my arms, her body trembling with the intensity of the situation, and with my Unseen Hand, I hold Erick, whose face reflects the terror consuming us.
"I'm sorry," my words are lost in the wind's roar. "I'll do everything in my power to make sure you make it out of this alive."
I gaze forward, feeling the raindrops lash against my face like stinging whips.
If I use my Unseen Hand, I'll lose the visibility needed to face what lies ahead; it's not the right tool for this situation. Helplessness consumes me, the frustration of not having control over my actions tormenting me.
The wind shifts again, propelling us upwards at a frantic speed.
We ascend and ascend until we break through the clouds, and for a brief moment, the sun blinds my vision. When I finally regain sight, I notice that the balloon's fabric is completely torn.
"Damn it..."
We begin to fall at a terrifying speed, quickly engulfed once again by the storm, as if fate were mocking our efforts to escape its cruel grasp.
"AGGGHH!" Erick's scream is drowned out by the storm's roar. For a moment, I nearly crush him completely as I struggle to maintain control of the situation, feeling the overwhelming weight of responsibility pressing down on my chest.
"Beatrice, I beg of you, please, if you're there, give me some of your magic. I feel like I'll die if you don't help me now, as you always have."
There's no response, only the sepulchral silence of a world that seems to have lost all compassion.
I try with all my might, battling against the gravity dragging us towards the abyss, but I know deep down that the most intricate calculations, unlike manipulating pressure or fire, were always Beatrice's responsibility, a truth that weighs heavily on my shoulders like a millstone.
I begin to generate an upward wind, and Crusch follows me in this desperate maneuver, her eyes reflecting the same determination and desperation as mine.
We curse the wind's fury and the raindrops pounding against the hull, making it difficult to maintain control over our trajectory. The balloon starts moving in various directions, spinning, and tossing us into the void in a macabre dance of despair.
I try to catch it with my Unseen Hand, but it slips away at breakneck speed, leaving us in free fall towards the surrounding darkness.
"I told you we should have waited!" Crusch exclaims, her voice filled with desperation and frustration, as she uses her arms to generate even more wind in a desperate effort to counteract the force dragging us downwards.
The cold and raindrops cause my body to begin freezing, every particle of my being feeling the piercing pain of the storm enveloping us. We're on our way to hypothermia if we don't do something soon to stop our descent towards certain death.
I generate all the warmth possible using the mana I have left, feeling the heat radiating from within me in a desperate attempt to counteract the cold threatening to consume us.
I have no idea how to fly with them, but if I can absorb the impact, maybe we'll have a chance to survive, a small spark of hope amidst the darkness surrounding us.
I use all the Unseen Hands I can, increasing their size to cushion the fall, feeling the exhausting effort taking hold of my body with every movement.
The only light amidst this situation is a faint residual mist of authority, a small display of power amidst desperation. We're trapped in some kind of bubble, and Crusch looks me directly in the eyes as I continue to generate heat, her eyes reflecting a mix of surprise and astonishment at what's happening.
"How did you manage this? This power..." she murmurs, her voice filled with disbelief and admiration as she gazes at me with an intensity that transcends reason.
I meet her gaze directly, our eyes locking amidst the storm surrounding us, and though our bodies can barely move, I can feel her skin brushing against mine, an intimate connection amidst the chaos enveloping us.
I can sense the mana flowing from her, and I realize that she has accepted Beatrice's mana into her heart, a truth that binds us in this moment of desperation and pain.
"This power is a curse I must bear," I respond with determination, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on my shoulders like an unrelenting yoke.
My response causes Crusch to close her eyes, and in that silent gesture, I sense an echo of shared pain, a burden we carry in this critical moment, where darkness threatens to devour us whole.
"You know?" Her voice is barely a whisper amidst the roar of the storm. "Beatrice wouldn't like to see the expression you have now."
I forcefully open my eyes upon hearing those words, trying to articulate a response, but she gently covers my mouth with her hand, as if wanting to seal the words before they escape.
"And to be honest, I don't like it either," she adds, her voice laden with a sincerity that cuts deeper than any knife.
At that moment, a thunderous roar echoes around us, and us collide with something with overwhelming force.
The impact jolts my back, and everything becomes blurry amidst the confusion and uncertainty, as if we're being ripped from reality and thrown into the abyss of the unknown.
"What does Crusch expect me to do in this desperate situation?"
Her eyes find mine in search of an answer, but my strength can barely hold us in this abyss of danger, and the weight of pain and loss threatens to crush me into oblivion.
Then everything turns black, and I lose sensation of my body.
If I show suffering, there's no turning back.
Today it's been raining since early morning, that damn rain appeared out of nowhere. Plus, the cold is intense, but the old lady insisted I didn't go out today. I don't understand why she was so dramatic.
After all, it's just rain. Must be because she's getting senile; definitely need to give her more tea.
"I guess I'll slee'." I flop onto the bed, and as I do, I feel all the hairs on my body stand on end.
BOOM!
A deafening roar comes from outside. For a moment, I thought it was thunder, but that sound definitely came from the ground.
"Wha' the hell was tha'!" I exclaim, rushing out of my room without a second thought.
SS-Beatrice
I Love You.
Today, I've spent the entire day meticulously planning Marco's birthday with Lia. Our conspiracy of joy is underway, and every detail we add seems to strengthen the bond between us.
"Do you think he'll enjoy that barbecue?" Lia asks, excitement sparking in her eyes, infecting my own smile.
"No one understands Marco better than Betty, in fact," I reply, pride filling my voice as I recall every word from my knight, his warm gaze, and gestures speaking of his affection towards us.
Lia smiles, and together we dive into a sea of imagination, envisioning the kind of birthday that will light up Marco's eyes. I know he doesn't like crowds, so I plan to surround him with close people, those who love and appreciate him as much as we do.
"Crusch must know where to get some alcohol, right?" Lia looks at me excitedly, like a co-conspirator in our mission to make Marco happy, and I nod with renewed enthusiasm.
"She always claims to know much of Lugunica, I suppose, we should ask her, actually," I point towards the laboratory with a mix of determination and anticipation, drawing another accomplice into our conspiracy, ready to weave the threads of an unforgettable celebration.
We quickly explain everything to Crusch, who looks at us with a completely serious expression, her eyes reflecting the importance of the matter.
"I understand," she holds her chin as she gazes at the sky. "Perhaps I know someone."
Lia and I exchange a glance, sharing a moment of contained excitement. I quickly take her hands, feeling the connection between us pulsate strongly.
We both start jumping excitedly, like two girls anticipating the arrival of a special gift. When it comes to making Marco happy, my emotions always surface, flooding me with a warm love that expands in my chest.
"Hehe, seems like I really do love him deeply, actually." Every gesture, every smile of his, seems to ignite a fire within me that illuminates my entire world.
But then, in the midst of the celebration for the ministers' birthdays and the prospect of Marco having more free time, he receives a call that abruptly cuts our joy.
"Excuse me, I must address something," Marco gets up and leaves, his gaze and the heaviness in my chest tell me it's something serious, something that threatens to cloud our day of happiness.
I clench my hands tightly, feeling the helplessness swirling within me.
They never leave him alone, the world always seems to be against him, as if he were destined to carry a burden too heavy for his shoulders.
Why, why does the world hate him like this?
Why doesn't the world allow him to heal his broken heart and find the peace he so deserves? All I long for is to see him smile, feel his embrace, and experience his warmth for eternity, but fate has other plans for him.
But he's human, his life is as fleeting as a sigh, and yet...
Lia cradles me in her lap, her arms enveloping me tenderly.
She, even though she's not my contractor, is someone I deeply appreciate, a sister with a warm heart and gentle soul. She's the contractor of my older brother, Pucky, and I know that, like me, her heart tears apart at the sight of Marco suffering.
"Has something happened?" Lia asks, gently stroking my head, her eyes filled with concern and compassion.
I shake my head with a sigh, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions consuming me.
I just hope Marco is okay, that he can face whatever is to come with bravery and determination, and that in the end, he finds the peace and happiness he so deserves.
I shake my head, trying to dissuade her, but Lia sighs resignedly, as if she had already anticipated my reaction.
"When the celebration is over, we'll ask him, alright?" she asserts, placing a comforting hand on my head, as if to soothe my worries with that simple gesture.
Then I learn of the situation. A possible war, the interests of foolish humans who feel threatened by Irlam's growth.
"It's always about trivial and foolish reasons," I think bitterly as I listen to the details. Definitely, as Marco says: "Humans never have enough time to learn from their mistakes." That's why history is doomed to repeat itself over and over again.
Even though some may learn, it's always the worst who commit the same stupidities, and we, who are trapped in the whirlwind of their decisions, must deal with the consequences.
"I don't think we should celebrate," Lia looks at me disheartened, her voice laden with concern for the uncertain future looming over us, but I grasp her hands with determination, conveying my confidence through the contact.
"We will, indeed. Marco needs to relax a bit, I suppose," I respond with a decisive tone, knowing that this celebration is more important than it superficially seems. It's a display of resilience, an affirmation of our humanity amidst the chaos surrounding us.
I won't yield; I must demonstrate how crucial it is to keep hope alive in dark times.
Lia hugs me tightly, seeking solace in my warmth, and I respond with an equally warm embrace, enveloping her in my love and protection. I know she must be feeling deep stress; the lives of many people depend on her, and that's what matters most to her, more than anything else.
She's even argued with Marco about it, sacrificing her own happiness for the well-being of others, an act of nobility that fills me with admiration and tenderness.
"Do you think war is okay?" Lia asks, her voice barely a whisper, but laden with the intensity of a question weighing on our hearts.
It's not that I haven't committed terrible actions for the sake of others' interests, but in this situation, I don't know what to say. Uncertainty and fear intertwine in my chest, but still, I find the strength to respond.
"No, Lia. It's never okay, I guess. But sometimes, it's inevitable indeed. All we can do is stay united and fight for what we believe is right, I suppose. And that's what we'll do indeed."
Even though Betty says so, memories from the past surface in my mind.
"We don't know what they might scheme, I suppose," Betty understands Marco, Betty knows he also thinks about the well-being of the people. "Betty believes that Marco knows it's not the right choice indeed, but if we don't take it, it will lead us to an even worse future, I suppose."
I trust Marco. I know he only seeks everyone's good. His determination and his efforts to find solutions, even in the darkest moments, inspire me and fill me with hope.
The silver-haired boy, Otto... searches for Lia under a hood. He thinks he's hiding, but it's so obvious that I'm worried Roswaal will notice. I decide to move him to the laboratory and allow them to speak in private.
To my surprise, that human starts persuading Lia masterfully, making her start to doubt her own thoughts. It took him more than a day, but I did the favor of taking him so they could talk.
"I guess it's the only option," Lia says, finalizing her decision. Although I notice a shadow of doubt in her voice, I know she trusts her own choices and what she considers best for everyone.
After that, we organize a party. We finally get everything we need and plan every detail for my prince's celebration. His look of surprise and joy upon seeing everything prepared fills me completely with satisfaction and excitement.
He starts to enjoy himself, and as we agreed, Lia and I try to cheer him up, surrounding him with the warmth and affection of our hugs and smiles.
It's comforting to see him happy and relaxed, at least for a moment, away from the worries and conflicts that constantly plague him.
However, later Lia gets drunk and makes a scene, unleashing a whirlwind of emotions that threatens to ruin the festive atmosphere we had created with such care.
I know Lia feels something for Marco, and although neither of them seems to fully understand it, I know Marco also feels something for her, even if it's something small.
The tension and chemistry between the two of them always fill me with happiness and melancholy, reminding me that love is a powerful and complicated bond.
However, Marco's heart is so damaged that he rejects it completely, unable to afford to open up to new feelings when his soul is still marked by pain and loss.
It's a silent tragedy that envelops us all, but still, I hold onto hope that someday they will find the peace and happiness they both deserve.
And I wish to be there to see it.
Marco is like a driving force for Lia's growth, and she, in turn, challenges him to open up to life and his emotions in a way that I could never do. It's admirable to see how they support each other and challenge themselves to be better people.
That's why I wouldn't have any problem lending Marco to Lia if it's for her well-being.
However, lately I've noticed that another girl, Crusch, is also occupying an important place in his life. It's as if she's opening another facet of him, one that he hadn't explored before.
"Maybe I should write a story, a tale about a hypothetical future where these things happen," I muse to myself with a mischievous smile, imagining different scenarios as I walk towards the laboratory.
Once inside, I sense Marco's presence in Lia's room, and my curiosity immediately awakens, prompting me to use magic to observe what's happening.
The scene I witness is intimate, but I can't look away. Marco is hovering over Lia, and their gazes meet in a silent exchange of emotions.
I try to cover my eyes, but an irresistible force prevents me from looking away as I observe the situation unfolding between the two of them.
Gradually, Marco leans in towards Lia, and she tilts her head towards him in a gesture of trust and closeness. My heart pounds in my chest, concerned for their emotional well-being.
However, my anger suddenly surges when Marco changes course and kisses her forehead instead of her lips.
"He's such a fool!" I exclaim aloud, frustrated by the built-up tension, as I watch them head together towards the laboratory.
As Marco opens the door, a gust of frigid air rushes into the room, hitting me hard and making me shiver. Amidst my confusion and annoyance, I hear a desperate cry that chills me to the bone.
"BEATRICE!" Marco shouts loudly, and for a moment, I feel a weak but comforting connection with him, as if I had finally managed to break through that invisible barrier that separated us.
Without hesitation, I let the floating globe helmet drop and immerse myself in the dense miasma surrounding Marco. Though I am a spirit, and this poison doesn't affect me, I am aware of its danger to him.
That's why I focus on cleaning his door from my position, flying at full speed while feeling the fine thread that connects us.
It's as if Roswaal was right, and my mother had left something reserved for me. My hand slides towards the crystal I keep in my pocket, and a smile spreads across my lips as I recognize that I will finally fulfill my purpose, although at this point, I don't care as much.
"Marco!" my voice bursts out in a scream as I see him, with a knife full of miasma stuck in his torso. I fall in front of him, facing the enemy he has been fighting.
It's condensed miasma, just as Roswaal said, the force that my mother couldn't fully control, the reason the world was consumed by darkness.
"El Shamack!" I shout, creating the spell to trap the monster in a desperate attempt to contain it, and then I turn my gaze back to Marco.
Unfortunately, my mana reserve is not enough to use a more powerful spell. In fact, I just broke the contract that took me so much effort to establish.
"Betty wants to help you just as you helped her," I murmur as I stand up and run towards Crusch to assess her situation. Roswaal warned me, explained why I must save her, and at that moment, I had already made my decision.
The miasma completely envelops her body, and at this moment, there is only one possibility to save her. The "odo," the purest essence of mana that holds my soul.
"It seems like my mother never abandoned me; it seems like she always wanted me to protect you," I whisper with determination as I focus on the power of the "odo."
"Betty, no..." Her words pierce my soul, my hands tremble as my heart begs me to stay by her side. "You can't... do this for me."
After healing Marco, I feel my body starting to weaken. My hands shake, but with determination, I take out the crystal that Roswaal gave me.
"That knife is designed to take over your body, and as your princess, I must protect you," my words, filled with love and fear, tremble in the air.
There's no room for fear at this moment. These months have been a whirlwind of emotions, the most intense and moving of my entire life. Without a doubt.
"Marco... I love you more than words can express," I whisper, feeling my cheeks burn with fire despite being battered by the rain.
With the odo flowing through me, I confront the darkness that threatens to devour Marco. The fight is fierce, but my will is unyielding.
My mind merges with the power of the odo, and I can feel every fiber of his being, every corner of his soul.
"Don't regret it, Marco... I don't want to see you consumed by pain. I want to see you truly smile, to be happy..."
I'm willing to give it all for him because I know this is the moment when my love becomes an unstoppable force.
Time stands still as I face the miasma trying to snatch him away. Every thought, every memory, becomes a barrier protecting his vulnerable being. And as the miasma struggles to claim him, I fight even harder to keep him safe.
"I won't be happy if you're not in my life!" his shout resonates in the air, piercing my soul like a sword.
My strength falters, but I don't give up. Marco is my reason for being at this moment, and I won't rest until I've saved him completely.
I've learned to laugh. I've learned to build new realities. I've learned things that would make my mother proud.
"Marco, my brave knight..."
I have learned to love. I have learned to love myself.
I owe everything to you, my prince. Your arrival has shaken my world, and now I must use everything to save you.
Don't look at me like that, tell me something that makes me smile, even if it's too much to ask.
I start to cry, even though I don't want to, it seems that my desire to keep living also makes itself present.
I want to keep seeing you, keep enjoying your company, I want to be able to walk with you, enjoy every moment together.
I want to keep being your daughter.
No... I always will be, even if I die.
"You must keep shining, even in the darkest moments. Don't let my sacrifice consume you, please."
With my last strength, I lean towards his forehead, I would like to break the contract, but I really don't have the strength for it. If I die, it will break anyway.
The crystal on his chest lights up, and then I understand something.
I kiss his forehead, forming one last smile.
"Please, don't blame yourself for this."
I love you, my prince. Even if I'm no longer here.
I love you.
Afterword
Hello, I'm the author.
If you've made it this far, it means you've reached the end of the arc. Congratulations, I hope it's been an interesting read.
Well, a lot has happened, and now we're heading towards the biggest turning point of the whole story. I'm very excited to translate it because the next arc is the longest and most complex of all.
It will last approximately two months, during which time I hope to publish the next arc.
I remind you that this is a FanFic; for me, it's a novel in itself. What I want to show is not just a story, but something that can be learned from it.
"I'll use elements of the story but mold them in my own way." That phrase is what I want to convey, so expect good things.
I write to tell the stories of my heart.
So don't see it as Re:zero, because I believe I've shown it's not.
This upcoming arc will have many things, I truly hope you enjoy it and continue with me throughout the story.
I got a job while working on my senior project. A little about my life: I'm a Mechatronic Engineer, and my project has taken sweat and blood, and I'm at a critical point. That's why sometimes I don't have time to relax by translating or writing.
The job is about doing tasks or projects for money, so luckily it's from home.
Well, I think I've said everything I wanted to say.
The next arc comes with two questions that I would like to ask those who are reading.
For you, What does it mean to be strong?
and
Do you think if you were someone else you'd be happier and more successful?