A small shadow loomed over the royal bedside, completely enshrouded in a dark mantle that concealed the entirety of their face. A slim, child-like figure had somehow slipped into the sleeping chambers of Theodore and Yestala's bedroom. From their slight frame, it was unlikely that this assailant was Giselle - the woman labelled responsible for their deaths.
Irene only gazed from the sidelines in horror as the figure gently hovered their gloved hands over the sleeping faces of the imperial couple. A thick, black miasma emanated from their palms, as dark and abysmal as an endless pit. The spell flickered and permeated the air around them like a cloud of poison.
It was then that Theodore's past self found himself being roused from his slumber - evidently not a part of the small stranger's plan. Theodore froze, his body paralysed by the smoke and his blue eyes filled with horror and awe as the figure suddenly threw the blanket over his eyes, preventing him from seeing their face beneath the shadows.
It wasn't a frightening way to die. Theodore soon fell into unconsciousness, and the assailant vanished into the night through the window. The miasma remained settled right above their noses as they slept, before sending them into an eternal rest. Theodore and Yestala never woke up the next morning.
Irene couldn't believe her eyes.
To think that this was all it took for the empire to be thrown into turmoil.
"I was killed harmlessly — but still killed, nonetheless." Theodore clenched his fists, staring at the bed where he drew his last breath. Irene remembered hearing somewhere that when the emperor and empress's bodies were discovered, it was believed they had been poisoned to death. But no one could put their finger on how they consumed it.
Yet what baffled her the most, was that they weren't killed by Giselle or any obvious enemies, but a child. She raised a hand to her chin in rumination. "Why would someone so young do something like this...? From their size, they looked no older than nine or ten."
"It's likely that child was just a pawn for someone else. I wouldn't be surprised if he or she was murdered later, to hide the evidence," Theodore answered, his gaze shifting towards the arched windows where the little figure disappeared. "I don't know how Giselle died, but it's unlikely that she was involved in our deaths. No matter how you see it, she would have benefitted from us being alive. It's also strange that Daniel and Mikael were left completely alone, despite being the most vulnerable and likely targets."
He was right. Whatever the motivations behind this enigma were, Irene recognised that they were surrounded by more questions than answers. All along, this moment had seemed nothing more than an unresolved mystery she believed was an underdeveloped part of the novel she wrote, in her previous life. Now armed with the truth - she understood that the significance of this moment far surpassed her initial perceptions.
In the current era, the influence of the dark magic guild was on a steady ascent, and Irene found herself lacking information about their activities and motives. It seemed possible that Rudien and Sir River held a greater understanding of these matters, deliberately keeping her and Mikael uninvolved after the events with Sophia Cather.
But that couldn't last with her emergence as the Second Saintess, Irene quickly grasped that her association in these affairs was inevitable, whether she welcomed it or not.
The scene unfolded like a vanishing room of enchantment, shimmering away before Irene's eyes. Once again, she stood amidst a vast field on a cliff, overlooking the expansive ocean. Theodore stood by her side, and as they returned to the very place where she first awoke in this ethereal realm, a sudden flinch crossed the emperor's features, as if he had sensed something amiss.
"What's wrong?" Irene asked, observing his reaction.
Theodore extended his gaze into the boundless field, fixating on something in the distance. After a moment of silence, he turned to Irene, wearing a cryptic yet joyful smile that felt out of place after witnessing his final memory.
"It seems like there's someone waiting for you."
He pointed ahead, but there was no one there. Irene squinted her eyes and attempted to stare as hard as she could into the distance, but all she could see was the unfolding meadow dappled with white flowers.
"There's no one there... And, more importantly, why would anyone be waiting for me here?" She looked at him with a puzzled expression, but Theodore responded with a chuckle.
"Well, my dear, it's impolite to keep a gentleman waiting," he teased, his smile carrying a touch of intrigue.
"Wha-?!"
Irene fumbled as her uncle cheerfully slipped behind her and gave her a gentle push in the direction that he pointed towards. She stepped forward, bewildered as he ushered her away.
"There's still more we need to discuss, but for now - you should go and see him. He's been waiting for you for centuries, you know," Theodore's obscure words made absolutely no sense, but despite the lack of clarity, Irene found herself unable to resist his suggestion - drawn in by the sincerity reflected in his oceanic eyes. "I'll be waiting for you right here."
Momentarily baffled, she blinked at him, but the earnest gaze in his eyes encouraged her to place her trust in him - even though it became apparent that he wouldn't accompany her this time. With a furtive nod, Irene started walking in the direction Theodore had indicated, despite the vast emptiness stretching for miles. After a minute or two, she looked back, finding Theodore's tall figure still standing there, waving at her—a silent assurance that he would stay right where he was.
I don't know how far he wants me to go, but... I guess I should keep walking for now.
Irene sighed, and continued onwards without feeling fatigued no matter how long she seemed to walk. The little white flowers decorating the field dwindled in number, and soon the air around her started to drop subtly in temperature. But her mind was so full of thoughts about everything she had discovered up until now, and scarcely registered these diminutive shifts in her surroundings.
I share the same soul as Meira, the First Saintess...
Right now, I'm in the middle of my awakening, and I somehow ended up in the realm of spirits...
This realm is where Snow came from, and where all of Meira's divine beasts now sleep. Somehow, Theodore is here too.
And there's someone waiting for me here... But who?
Midst her contemplation, Irene came to an abrupt halt. Her simple white night gown seamlessly melded with her environment. As she looked down at her pale feet, to her surprise, they had taken on a rosy hue from contact with a gentle, icy carpet.
Her eyes widened with realisation. Unbeknownst to her, she had ventured into what seemed to be a wintry landscape, the entire field transformed into a pristine expanse of snow.
Before her lay the majestic spectacle of towering mountains, seemingly reaching for the heavens. The trees, devoid of even a single leaf, stood adorned in layers of snow, resembling chocolate delicately dusted with white sugar.
"—What...?!"
Whipping her head back to glance behind her, the grassy meadow from seconds ago had vanished entirely. It was as if she had stepped into another one of Theodore's memories, yet this particular one carried an uncanny sense of reality.
And what astonished her the most was the sight of numerous small huts constructed from stone and wood. Roofs, thoroughly painted white by winter's touch, and windows veiled with the warmth emanating from within. Light spilled out from inside some of the quaint dwellings. It seemed like she was standing in the midst of a tiny village.
To her amazement, one of the doors burst open. A tall man emerged - and her eyes widened at the sight of him.
He was dressed in a patchwork of furs, skillfully stitched together with sinew. His fur-lined boots crunched on the snow-covered ground as he stepped out. A distinctive pelt that appeared to be made from a mountain lion adorned his shoulders, its head forming a hood that framed his weathered, pale face.
Intricately carved buttons held together his garments. The man's attire, though practical for the bitter winter, carried an almost primal elegance that mirrored the untamed beauty of the surrounding landscape.
Could he be the one Theodore was talking about? Irene marveled at the man's colossal stature and imposing presence. Standing as tall as a bear on its hind legs, he bore a striking resemblance to one, complete with lion-like ears protruding from his hood. Strands of ashy-blonde hair peeked out from beneath his cloak, accentuating the formidable sharpness of his flat, grey eyes.
Contemplating whether to approach, Irene observed as the man gently closed the door to his home and retrieved what seemed to be a shovel from nearby. While she pondered whether to call out, he swiftly headed toward the mountainous forests, the large tool in his grasp.
For now... I guess I'll follow him.
She hovered closely behind his presence almost like a little ghost. Irene acknowledged that the man likely couldn't see her, despite her attempts to walk alongside him. It appeared he remained entirely unaware of her presence. Despite his formidable size, Irene felt an assurance that no harm would befall her in his company. Perhaps she had grown accustomed to being around such men, thanks to Rudien and the knights of Cherliann.
Ascending the mountains, the man moved with an unbroken cadence, as if this were a routine performed a million times. Pausing periodically, he plucked wild berries from the surroundings, carefully depositing them into his bag. Irene, with patience, hiked behind him for what felt like hours. In reality, such a mountain climb would be an impossible task for someone like her, yet here she found herself effortlessly navigating the terrain. It appeared this realm bestowed upon her some spectral qualities, enabling her to tread where mortal limitations might otherwise forbid.
At last, they arrived at a cave nestled near the mountaintops. Irene surveyed her surroundings attentively, entering the dimly-lit natural shelter where a few blankets were spread out. It was at that moment her eyes glimpsed movement from within.
Astonishment painted her features as the man entered the cave. Nestled comfortably within, was a lioness and her cubs. Her fur, as white and silky as alabaster, imparted a statue-like quality. Irene discerned precisely three tiny kittens, snuggling closely against their mother in a peaceful nap.
"Good morning, Enya," The man smiled gently, crouching at the lioness's side, his deep voice resonating through the cave. Irene watched as he gently extended a hand toward the lioness, to which she affectionately nuzzled her head against. He then reached into his bag, which was full of berries and what appeared to be slices of bird meat that had been cut into small pieces. "I've brought you some food."
In serene silence, Irene observed the touching tableau, a constant smile gracing her face. It became evident that the man was covertly caring for a mountain lioness and her cubs, providing them with occasional sustenance. Upon closer inspection, Irene noticed that the mother lion was missing both hind legs, likely the result of a grievous injury. The man had been tending to her recovery, ensuring the well-being of both her and the cubs.
"Those hunters oblivious to the value of your life won't find you here," he vowed solemnly, met with a resounding purr from the lioness. It dawned on Irene that this majestic breed might be endangered, sought after by hunters for their pelts.
But a lingering question still echoed in her mind. What was her purpose here? She was meant to meet someone who awaited her, and perhaps following this man was not part of the plan. Despite witnessing what seemed like a tender interaction between him and the majestic animal, Irene couldn't grasp the reason for her own presence in this enigmatic place.
Just then, Irene felt the air around her shift. A sudden gust of wind carrying myriads of snowflakes began to encircle her body and the entire cave.
"Aah—?!" Her dress and white hair danced in the forceful gust, yet as she squinted toward the man, it became apparent that the storm wasn't encroaching upon them. A swift, white snowy veil obscured them from her sight, and she found herself standing amidst an empty, boundless field of snow. It was similar to how Theodore's memories dissipated away.
Irene exhaled, a soft cloud of hot air escaping her lips in the wintry expanse. Her golden eyes focused intently on a colossal, beastly figure that seemed to be drawing nearer from a foggy cloud ahead.
The loud footsteps grew increasingly resonant, echoing in harmony with her heartbeat. Frozen in place, Irene couldn't bring herself to divert her gaze from the approaching sight. As the figure finally materialised from beyond the mist, a gentle breeze carried delicate white snowflakes past her silhouette.
...Woah...
Before her stood the imposing figure of a white lion. His form was robust and expansive, adorned with a magnificent mane that glimmered like frost. Creamy-white fur stretched over his body with a touch of taupe, and darkened brownish accents adorned the crooks of its eyes and nose, as well as his paws and the tip of his tail. Those moons for eyes took her breath away — the outer circles of his irises seamlessly transitioning from blue to silvery-grey around the pupil. Flecks of gold decorated his orbs as he gazed down at her with a regality she had never witnessed before.
"Beautiful..." Irene mumbled quietly to herself, as she marvelled at him in awe. He scrutinised her small frame with a keen interest, before slowly lowering his head to face her.
"You're here at last. I have waited for you..."
Irene nearly flinched at the resonance of his voice. The deep, velvety timbre echoed through her, as if she were in the presence of an otherworldly king.
Is this who Theodore told me to meet...?
A lion spirit?
His voice echoed a resemblance to the man from earlier, and his physique bore similarities to the lioness. Could it have been him who presented Irene with that scene just moments ago?
"...Tell me, child..." He then began to speak again, and Irene held her breath. "...What do you believe makes a life valuable?"
"...A valuable life...?"
Irene blinked at the lion in confusion for a moment. He studied her face keenly, as though staring into the depths of her soul and trying to make out what her thoughts were. Was this some sort of test?
She contemplated her answer for a moment, realising this matter was one she hadn't really thought deeply about before. But as memories of her past life flashed through her mind, she felt her heart ache remembering some of the feelings she encountered when faced with oncoming death.
"...I believe what makes a life valuable can only be decided by the one who is leading it," she began to explain, her gaze lowered to the ground, a mixture of reminiscence and sadness flickering over her features. "Some people deem the lives of others as worthless, while others place them on pedestals. But, in my opinion, whether your life is worthless or worthwhile... it's all in the eyes of the beholder. Your perspectives, experiences, your memories – all of it is important, and no one else can place value on them for you."
Her life as Hanna had taught her a valuable lesson. In those days, she led a solitary existence, with no parents and no friends despite residing in a thriving world. Hanna's life was one of loneliness, often plagued by the mundane and seemingly pointless. Yet...
She understood that the only one capable of bringing value to her life was herself. Harnessing her love for books, she aspired to leave a mark on the world by writing one of her own, during the final days of her life. Even as she battled an illness that ravaged her body, her determination remained steadfast when it came to her book. In the end, she passed away before completing her work, but it was a fulfilling life nonetheless.
Then again, it turns out the story I wrote wasn't just a story at all...
Irene cast a furtive glance at the lion, realising he was simply observing her in silence. Her response might not have been as heroic or morally robust as he expected. Perhaps, he expected her to proclaim something like "a valuable life is one that can save others." But even if it was selfish, in her heart, she believed that only she had the capacity to ascribe worth to herself, a sentiment she held for everyone else as observers of their own lives.
"So your belief boils down to 'to each their own,'" the lion mused, gradually closing his eyes. There was a subtle shift in the tone of his voice, carrying a hint of amusement. "...As always, you were never the unequivocally benevolent saint your fate intended you to become."
Uh... Is he complimenting me, or...? I can't really tell...
"What is your name in this life, child?" He questioned gently. She couldn't help but feel small before his dominating presence - perhaps because of his sheer size and the fact that he was a lion, who were fundamentally proud creatures.
"...Irene Cherliann," she replied, almost instinctively addressing him as 'Sir'.
"...Irene Cherliann..." His voice gently caressed her name, and an unanticipated warmth touched her. Irene observed as he gracefully lowered his massive frame into a prostrating position, his eyes closing in a serene gesture. Inclining his head towards her, he spoke with solemn devotion. "You have finally returned, my dear mistress. From now, until the very end, I will serve you with my life—the very life that I value, thanks to you."
"...Huh?"
Irene blinked at the lion, wondering what was happening. Did he just call me mistress? And what does he mean... Serve me?
As she processed the meaning of his words, the lion suddenly inched closer to her.
"Eh—?!"
Irene nearly stumbled backward when she unexpectedly felt the gentle touch of his face nuzzling against her body. Despite his imposing size, with a nose likely the size of her head, his fur was surprisingly silky and soft, reminiscent of a giant teddy bear.
W-What's happening?!
"Ah, I almost forgot to introduce myself... Please forgive my forwardness, Mistress. I simply grew too excited to see you because it has been so long."
Irene had absolutely no idea how to respond to that. Hearing such words from a voice that deep left her speechless.
The lion maintained the same regal presence as before, yet there was now a noticeable warmth emanating from his gaze.
"My name is Jura. It is the name you bestowed upon me thousands of years ago. For millennia, I have waited to serve you again, My Lady," his voice, stoic and low, carried a profound admiration that Irene could sense in his words. It didn't take her very long to realise, this lion was probably one of Meira's spirits.
So the reason he was treating her so affectionately all of a sudden was because she was Meira in another life. Although she didn't know much about her supposed past life as the First Saintess, she couldn't deny the truth. Her soul and Meira's were one and the same.
Considering he fought by Meira's side, he will have a lot of knowledge about how to apprehend dark magicians...
"Jura?" She whispered his name, to which the lion responded keenly to.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"For starters...Please just call me Irene."
"I cannot call upon my mistress's name so brazenly, My Lady."
But you can nuzzle against me so brazenly?
Irene couldn't help but feel completely bewildered by this situation. Her Phoenix spirit exhibited nothing close to this level of deference. She pondered how Jura would respond upon hearing Snow repeatedly address her as "Sprout."
Well, that's something I'll witness later.
"I must go now, Mistress. I have to rush to your physical body immediately... You're overflowing with power that is harming you," Jura conveyed, a sense of urgency in his voice as he prepared to depart.
"Huh? But I still have questions-"
She was cut off by the feeling of his nose nuzzling against her yet again. It was a strange sensation, but his fur was so soft and smooth, Irene ended up caving into it.
He's so warm and soft...
"My deepest apologies, Mistress. But for now, your life takes priority. I shall answer every one of your concerns once you awaken from your slumber."
Before she could pose any further questions, Jura vanished in an instant. A brisk gust of snowy wind whirled around her, prompting Irene to yelp as she shielded her face from the flurry. However, upon reopening her eyes, she found herself back in the flowery meadow.
He's gone?!
For a lion that large, he disappeared really fast...
As she gazed ahead, her gaze fixed onto a familiar figure standing in the boundless fields. A blonde man with his hair tied loosely in a ribbon stood patiently, his face painted with a radiant smile as he waved at her just as he did before. He had kept his promise to stay and wait for her to conclude her new encounter.
"You're back, Rene! Shall we continue our discussion?"