The treacherous glare of the smiling sun awakens me. I am surrounded by stones, and the ray of light carefully hits my eye. The bastard is pleased to see me in pain, and I still haven't forgotten the idea of hitting him with a stick. Still, it's good that it woke me up.

  My body hurts and wants me to keep lying down, but I have something more important to do. I touch the stones around me and channel them, pushing them to the side. Above me, a hole leads to the surface, reminiscent of the tunnels Hilda created. Around me, others of them lead me underground, where I last saw her.

  That last spell must have collapsed what was left of the mountain.

  I force myself up and launch myself up using wind, climbing the last part and facing the horizon. The emerald sky still looks dead, but without Hilda's rot, I can already see some of her health returning.

  Still, it would not return to being the same for quite a while. The scars of war still deepen in the soil. Life is no longer born near the Mother Tree, and due to the confrontation, the latter also perished. Fruits, vegetables, cards, and elves: allies and enemies are stretched to the ground like dolls, surrounded by poison and twisted roots. Alongside the tragedy, those left of the army execute the few monsters still conscious. Fairies and elves unite to defeat iniquity, just as in the ancient songs of the troubadours.

  One of them, Cloud, carries a golden flame in his hand, a sign of Hoffstein's authority. The boy commands the army to advance—and, judging by the distance they had traveled, had done so soon after she was separated. Surrounded, the dragon loses its strength, tumbling and almost not keeping on its feet. The direct blows of the hero only hinder his work. It's impressive how strong he is without even opening his Gates or using more seal power.

  But if my hunch is correct, then this will be the last time he holds on. If the difficulty of each challenge increases as the world changes, Hoffstein will be forced to respond to the height. Besides, he'll need to find a good excuse, so the other courts don't invade after Hilda's death. I would also have to travel to the Empire of men and explain what we did.

  And then, the Eclipse.

  One thing at a time.

  I can take some pressure off his shoulders. I search the horizon to see if I can find the aura of Morgana or Hilda, but I find nothing. I maximize my detection and, slightly, I can find a familiar sis. I don't know who it belongs to, but it's the only direction I have.

  Something's wrong.

  I breathe in and propel myself using fire. The tunnels spread out amid the stone rubble, I remove the debris from the front, and then throw myself over the openings in the earth that lead me underground. Mushrooms grow and illuminate the passages, almost dead from the cold. It's not long before I start to see my own breath.

  What I felt was, actually, mana. Not from a person, but from an environment, more concentrated than the rest, but also more hidden. It is scattered underground among crystals in a tedious and annoying maze, which leaves me with no way out for several times. With no time for him, I blow up the earth and create my own entrances. My step quickens, my mouth dries.

  Even if Hilda hadn't died, Morgana has no reason to hide from me. I guess she's the one I felt.

  It has to be her, doesn't it?

  “….”

  If I find Hilda, I can end all this. She does not need to be killed, but only sealed. We can put Guardians around him, revitalize the Royals, let stability ward off invaders, and use Hoffstein's presence as a crutch while the court recovers.

  Step wet. The ice of the underground breaks before my feet. I can fix everything. I need Hilda to be alive, and I need Morgana…

  And don't let Morgana do what she promised me she would.

  I blow up the last rubble, and behind them, the last room of the maze. I inhale, feeling my pressure drop.

  Twisted and frozen trees. Tortured chimeric monsters, suffocated by their own guts. Stretched, pierced, crushed, mutilated: a scene as brutal as the massacre Aldwyn had carried out.

  Hot steam mixes with the fried mists. A path of stones stretches into the depths of darkness, and lost in them, barely noticeable, two silver dots.

  Her voice echoes.

  “Sieghart.” Morgana says. “You weren't supposed to see this.”

  “… And yet, you knew I would see.”

  A noise. Shards breaking, vines tearing. Then, steps. Flesh against stone, light and powerful, echoing through the air like the waves of a pond. The Sapphire illuminates her image, and out of the darkness, Morgana emerges. High. Her black dress is stained with red blood. Gleaming silver-colored hair matches her pupil, but contrasts with her sclera. Sharp ears, piercing gaze, four arms emerge from his blue skin.

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  The bottom pair hold Hilda's severed head, then drop it on the floor and roll over.

  “… So you kept your promise. A scene as brutal as Aldwyn's.”

  “I warned you.”

  “Yes. Finding moral justifications for your actions and trapping me in agreements with linguistic tricks is what you do best.”

  “Do you abhor me?”

  My eyes wander around the scene. I'm not used to it yet. It never gets easier to face them. Still, given what I've seen, these scenes become a little more tolerable.

  Especially when you find out the reason behind it.

  “No. Come here.”

  Morgana stares at me with an expression I can't read. Surprise, animosity, seriousness. Noticing bad feelings has always been easier for me, but almost none of them are present. Somehow this is even worse.

  Morgana approaches, stroking my face with cold fingers. She surrounds me, fading into the shadows until I hug her from behind. One pair of his hands holds me, and the other smoothes my hair. The fairy stares at me with almost hypnotic obsession.

  “Do I look that much like her?” I say.

  “… Yes.”

  “I'm sorry, Morgana. For everything you showed me.”

  “… Thank you, Sieghart.”

  “Hey, Morgana.”

  “Speak.”

  “Since we are so close, we need to have a conversation.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Killing Hilda was wrong. You know that, don't you?”

  “Wrong would not be the right word.”

  “… No, I suppose not. Killing Hilda is not a bad decision, but there was a better decision to be made. But you didn't. You wanted blood.”

  “Does that anger you?”

  “Yes.”

  “…”

  “But I understand you, too. I don't know if I would make the same decision. But something worries me. If it was a bad decision, if you have to sacrifice the entire fairy world for your revenge, would you have done it?”

  “… What does this matter? You would still need me by your side, as a teacher and dear friend.”

  “I will have other teachers at Solace, and also other friends. From a practical point of view, the only thing that unites us is our agreement.”

  “So you think I'm expendable? That I wouldn't be important in your fight against the Demiurge?”

  “I didn't say that.”

  “Your answer makes it sound like I am.”

  “You want me to beg on my knees because you're playing language tricks again?”

  “Does that anger you?”

  “It makes me want us to have a normal conversation without me having to measure my words. Don't hide. I don't want you to hide.”

  “And for what? Why should I abdicate? For you to tell me I'm not enough, even when I'm not in error?”

  “Even if you were wrong, I wouldn't abandon you.”

  Morgana stopped.

  “… Why?” She said.

  “It's the right thing to do.”

  Morgan laughed faintly. “I see.”

  “And you're my friend, too. I must reach out my hand and save you when you error, as well as prevent you from causing destruction or neutralizing you when you do.”

  “Would you kill me if I lost myself?”

  “If I had to.”

  “… I stayed away from Hilda for her safety the first time. Not going after my other sisters is not proof enough that you are important to me? I am wise enough to know when to strike, and also to know that provoking you or Hoffstein to anger would not be beneficial.”

  “Would you give up your revenge for a greater good?”

  “Would you give up on me to destroy the Lion?”

  “I would be saving the world. It's the opposite.”

  “They destroyed my world. The Queens must pay. For my sister, for my life, for the lives of all those they ended. Whether I am an avenger or not, justice demands that they pay. Isn't sacrificing yourself for the greater good a proof of positive morality?”

  “Not for a reason like that. But I suppose the end effect is the same—which brings us to square one.” I nod. “It doesn't matter. I cannot ask you to break such an immutable truth in this way. Actions have consequences.”

  “Do not pretend you're perfect, dear. I did the right thing. You should thank me for not going after the others because of you; because of everyone else.”

  “I'm not. I will, one day. And I will bring you with me.”

  Morgana spits out a laugh. “Will you become my knight in shining armor?”

  “I'm a hero now, aren't I? Trying to save the world? That's already my role.”

  “Oh, my hero, I will wait eagerly for you, that you may annihilate the iniquity of the heart of this fair maiden-”

  I'll give the fairy a shag. “Don't.”

  Morgana's laughter echoes through the cave. “Very well. Consequences, of course. The Lion will lose, and my sisters will burn. We will help each other in this. But the truth is that this was already destined to occur.”

  “Destined?”

  Her hands go up to my neck, Morgana presses me to her chest and lifts my chin to stare into my eyes.

  “I'm not human. Neither are you. You may have gained new friends, you may fall in love with a girl and play human for a while; but remember your nature. We're not like them. Don't make the mistake of thinking that deciding to walk among men makes you one of them. They cannot understand us completely.” Morgana says.

  “I know. Why do you say that?”

  “Teacher, friend, maiden, it doesn't matter. We are meant to be together for a thousand and one reasons, and neither of us can achieve our goals without the other. You can't escape me. You're stuck with me. Forever. You're mine. Never forget that.”

  She knows, doesn't she?

  I inhale, then release myself from his arms and go to the exit from the cave.

  “… Sieghart?”

  Morgana admitted when we first met that it was profit if I fell in love with her, even if it wasn't something she was aiming for in specific. The reason is obvious: passion increases the chance that a given manipulation will work.

  Still, I don't know if it's due to the new humanity I've received, but this feeling is much stronger than I thought it would be.

  “… Let's go, Morgana.”

  The maiden smiles, then walks until she catches up with me.

  Maybe.

  The Unknown [Dark High-Fantasy / Eldritch Chaos Mage] | Royal Road