I had been thinking a lot about my childhood and upbringing in the last two months, ever since Belle had asked if I was interested in learning magic.

  It was a complicated issue, to say the least.

  This whole ordeal, this grudge I had with the mystical, with the supernatural, with the greater and the inexplicable…

  It wouldn’t be sufficient to say that it started with my childhood.

  No, it started long before even that.

  Before I was ever even born, I was destined to have a troubled relationship with the divine and religion.

  My parents were Christians.

  They weren’t the evangelical, preachy, superstitious, holier-than-thou types, God no, they had been through far too much and seen far too much to have those kinds of attitudes.

  But undeniably, they held faith that there was some greater meaning to the world, that everything we could see with our eyes was part of a grand, beautiful design. They believed that all life and nature was a great miracle, and that we were all blessed to be able to live and witness it.

  They weren’t born or raised as such.

  It was just a thing that happened.

  Their homeland during their youth was… well, troubled.

  A violent and tumultuous time to be living. A great era of madness and bloodshed swept across the entire country.

  I never really asked them about their past; by the time I was old enough to maybe understand what they had gone through, I had already started to distance myself from my parents.

  But every once in a while, I would read a bit about history, and everything would all make sense.

  The years they were born, what eras they would have lived through, the tragedies and senseless violence they would have witnessed as nothing more than children and teenagers.

  I wish I mustered the courage to be able to ask them all about it. Just another regret to add to the pile.

  But even though I never got to hear their story, I understood enough. They didn’t walk away from those years without scars. It carried through to every other aspect of their lives.

  It was only because of kind pilgrims who had travelled from afar that they survived through those years; kind pilgrims who carried the love of the Lord with them, spreading the kindness of the good word wherever they travelled, dedicating their lives to acting as good samaritans.

  That was probably when they became Christian, finding salvation through those hellish times through the passing kindness of strangers who helped them out simply because they were taught that it was the right thing to do, because His love was equal and all-encompassing, because He ensured that their lives had meaning and their struggles were beautiful.

  It was because of Him, and the good word He spread to His followers that led them to save my parents, that they were able to live. He was a light in the darkness amidst their hopeless, traumatic days.

  They carried that salvation, that gratitude and grace, with them for the rest of their lives, and one day, that resulted in my birth.

  And so they passed that gratitude down to me. Praise be to God, His love, His kindness, for He made the beautiful world. Praise be to God, for He will redeem you in your darkest moments and deliver you from Hell. Praise be to God, who watches over us, and carries us through painful times.

  There was something greater to the world’s existence. Salvation, miracles, divinity. It had to be real to my parents, it was only because of that divinity they were able to live through their younger years.

  I never found that same salvation.

  I never saw that second set of footprints in the sand, sweeping me off my feet and carrying me when I no longer had the strength to walk.

  Whenever I looked behind at the trail of memories I left behind, becoming footprints in the eternal sands of history, all I saw was myself, and I was alone.

  The bitterness never left. Maybe that was part of why I felt so guilty about reconciling with them. Maybe that was why I was so scared to muster the courage to ask them about their stories of the past.

  I wondered what my parents would have thought about this strange, new world, and the fact that magic existed.

  They weren’t the type to spout off about ridiculous nonsense about sacrilege, heresy and pagan evils or whatever. They were far too humble and kind, far too loving of the world, to ever do something like that.

  They’d probably just laugh in wonder, and look on in amazement at all the impossible sights.

  It probably wouldn’t be all that different from moving to a new country for them.

  For them, it’d probably just be another example that the world truly was beautiful.

  I was just being petty.

  Sorry, you two.

  I know I’m disappointing you two with the way I’m acting, wherever you are. You would just laugh and slap me on the back and tell me to reach for a brighter future. If it was you, you would already be kicking me into Nindo’s doors.

  This pitiful son was never really the best at just letting things go. He holds onto grudges and pains for a long, long time.

  It was that trait of his that led to him taking that girl away from that orphanage.

  Please watch over me for just a little bit longer.

  Maybe God cannot carry me through the sand, but could you?

  Could you give me your strength just one last time?

  Please, lend me your love just this once. Let me see the world as you did, with that same wonder and gratitude and humility.

  Thank you, Mother.

  Thank you, Father.

  A month and a half passed.

  Still, I had yet to give Belle an answer.

  One day, shortly after lunch, I heard a lot of shuffling from one of the rooms.

  I saw Luna off as she went to the library, so that had to be Belle, right?

  It wasn’t often she needed to do something around the house that wasn’t in the workshop.

  Finding myself curious, I shuffled over to the source of the sound, opening the door to the room and peeking in.

  I recognised it as one of the large closets joined to Belle’s room.

  There was a huge mess scattered on the floor.

  Ropes, screws, harnesses, heavy boots with spikes and bits and pieces sticking out. Bags were strung about everywhere, packed to their brims with something, and there was a huge messy bundle of clothes that piled up to the roof.

  Belle turned to greet me as she tossed a few coats and jackets behind her onto the growing pile.

  “Oh, hey, Estelle, you’re here. Put this on.”

  She grabbed a piece of clothing off the floor and pushed it into my arms, sending me stumbling back.

  I frowned, looking at the soft, white bundle in my hands.

  “What’s going on?”

  Belle just blinked.

  “It’s the 7th of July. Remember? Promised I would take you up to the summit tonight.”

  I bristled and blushed.

  “O-oh, right…”

  I genuinely forgot I had asked her for that favour. I was too busy trying to work through my lingering resentments and troubles for the past month, not that I had much success in that area, anyways.

  “It’ll be a long climb up, if we start soon, we’ll be lucky to get there right at sunset. Normally takes a few days from the base, but I built this place right at the edge of habitability, as far up as nature could reasonably sustain itself before it started to die.”

  She nodded towards the thick clothing in my arms.

  “Put it on. We’ll be stuck in the cold for a while even though it’s summer. It’ll be a treacherous climb up for the remaining bit. Nothing like the forest hikes down the mountain I showed you a while back.”

  I unfolded the massive white thing in my arms, holding its puffy sleeves up.

  It was a thick, white padded coat, large enough to cover me down to my shins and close to my knees. I could see various runic sigils covering the outer fabric, arcane sparks lightly flickering and dancing as various enchantments came to life.

  “Haven’t done much stitching or weaving in a while, mostly work with metals and rocks and machinery nowadays, but my runework should be solid enough. That jacket should have enough enchantments to make you comfortable as the atmosphere gets harsher.”

  Belle smiled, nodding towards the jacket.

  “Go on, put it on.”

  I sighed, before twirling the jacket around and tossing its heavy, puffy fabric over my shoulders.

  I immediately felt a comforting warmth spread over my body, relaxing my nerves and sending a soft tingle to my feet.

  I pulled the front flaps of the jacket over myself, tucking myself into it.

  I smiled.

  It really did feel like I was a child again, being tucked into bed on a cold winter’s night by loving parents.

  I pulled my arms through the massive sleeves.

  Or, well, I tried to anyways.

  I found that I couldn’t push my arms all the way through, leaving the cuffs flapping emptily in the air as I struggled to push my arms through to the end.

  Belle laughed at the sight.

  I flushed in embarrassment.

  “Oh, don’t worry too much about that. Your arms will be warm even if you don’t wear the sleeves. Don’t worry about it falling off either, people figured out the basic enchantments to make clothing stick a long time ago.”

  I blinked.

  Was magic, this arcane, divine force, used for such frivolous things?

  I retracted my arms from the sleeves and jumped around.

  True to her words, no matter how much I shook or jump, the jacket did not fall from my shoulders.

  Belle smiled as I looked at the jacket in confusion, pulling its sleeves up to inspect them.

  “It’s not that often you actually act your age. You’re very cute when you do, though.”

  I blushed and grumbled, pulling the jacket further over myself to hide my cheeks beneath its tall collar.

  Sadly, all that did was make Belle laugh more as I glared at her.

  “You look good in white. Better than your sister, anyways. The white just makes her look really sick, black fits her skin tone much better. I should buy or make some more stuff in this colour for you.”

  She ruffled my hair with a gentle smile.

  “Come on, go pack up if you want to bring anything with you. I’ll just clean this mess up then join you outside. Won’t be long.”

  I frowned, furrowing my brow.

  “What about Luna, is she going to be okay?”

  Belle chuckled and rolled her eyes.

  “She’ll be fine, you dolt. Stop thinking about your sister for a second, ‘kay?”

  She flicked me on the forehead.

  “If it really bothers you though, I did tell her and ask if she wanted to come. She just pouted and said she doesn’t get why we would want to spend time going up a mountain when she could be reading instead.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  I giggled, imagining the scene in my head.

  Belle just shrugged.

  “Don’t think we’ll be back for dinner, but she should be fine. Stew’s on the stove, and she should be able to turn it on and off safely.”

  I blinked.

  Was that why she was so fussy about fire safety at lunch? Was I so out of it that I couldn’t even recognise something was happening then?

  I grimaced, and just pulled myself even deeper into the jacket.

  “I’ll wait for you outside, then.”

  Hopefully tonight’s trip would be able to cheer me up. The night sky was always a soothing sight to me on my journey across the world.

  “Come on girl, up you come!”

  Belle bent down from atop a steep wall on the rocks, holding her hand out to me.

  I leapt up as high as I could, barely jumping high enough on my stubby legs to catch Belle’s hand.

  She effortlessly pulled me all the way up, almost tossing me onto the small cliff face with her, sending me stumbling to my knees.

  “Ugh, it’s getting cold now.”

  Belle clicked her tongue, and very uncharacteristically, actually bothered to pull her robe, which was usually halfway down her upper arm, over on top of her shoulders.

  I looked down at the world beneath us from where we stood, still more than a third left in our journey up to the summit from our home.

  It all seemed so tiny and quaint from up here. I could barely make out the small flat clearing among the trees where Belle had built her manor.

  Rocks and cliffs waved and roiled down the tall mountain, cold stone greys and icy whites gently melted into well travelled soft yellows and weathered browns. Even further down, when the altitude was just right, where there was just enough moisture and it wasn’t freezing, a line of trees emerged, cascading down into the wonderful mountain range below.

  Nature’s breadth was vast.

  I could see everything from up here.

  Gentle orange rays of the setting sun smothered the world in a warm summer glow, stretching all the way from the end of the horizon in front of me to the end of the horizon behind me.

  Mountains, forests and plains as far as the eye could see.

  The tiny city of Arden continued to bustle away, its citizens toiling in the summer heat. I could even make out the next city all the way out west, small clumps of manmade architectures peeking out right at the world’s edge.

  And from the sister mountains next to us, streams of greenish-blue water ran down rocky channels, frothing and sloshing quietly as they danced down to the east, disappearing into the greenery as the forests greedily consumed the river’s nectar.

  And even further out, on the opposite end of the horizon, to our east, I could see that towering tree again.

  Next to me, Belle chuckled.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, enraptured by the tiny world below me.

  “It is.”

  A singular chortle left the witch’s mouth.

  “It looks all so tiny and fleeting from up here, doesn’t it? That’s why I’ve always liked this place. Sometimes I can look down and feel like I’m among the stars, only to climb even further up and realise that I’m still so far away, that even still, the height of this mountain isn’t even really all that impressive compared to the view the stars must have of us.”

  She sat down next to me, hanging her legs over the small cliff as she stared out with me to the giant tree to the east.

  “Imagine what it must be like from up there, looking down on Manusyara from the stars, all of its people and nations and histories just… trapped… on that tiny blue marble, small enough for you to roll between your fingers.”

  She lazily pointed towards those colossal roots.

  From here, above the treeline, I could barely make out something among its branches and roots that I couldn’t see before. It looked almost like a city.

  “That’s the ‘World Tree’. Has two different names, depending on who you ask. For the people of Tenmai, the people who live under it, they call it ‘Hinanhoro’, taken from their words for ‘Wanderer’s Haven’. It’s almost like their god, they praise and worship it as their people’s manifestation of Sol. You’ll find Nindo under there too, if you want to study there.”

  “What else did they call it?”

  I couldn’t help but let the curiosity take over, the traveller’s blood in me getting excited once more. I was young and naive again, filled with endless wanderlust and always dreaming about what there might have been to find over the next horizon.

  That was how I had been raised, after all.

  My parents did not believe that God was found within the words of the Bible, or within the walls of a church.

  It wasn’t the teachings of the Bible or the stuffy Catholic priests who rambled on about nonsensical purities or whatever that had saved them from their hell, after all.

  They told me that God manifested through the beauty of the world.

  Watch the morning sun rise, watch the leaves dance around its light and sing in its embrace.

  Look at the clouds, endlessly drifting across the sky, eternally wandering for a place to call home, for barren fields and desolate soils to bless with rain and life.

  Hear His calming songs in the running streams of a river, and drink upon its fresh water to receive His blood and care.

  Let yourself drift off to sleep surrounded by flowers, and fall into His loving arms.

  If all you wanted to do was find proof that God existed, then all you would need to do is look around, and you would find Him everywhere, reflected in His work.

  And that work, that love enduring, lived on in the hearts of strangers, emerging in the form of passing, simple kind acts.

  It was all precious beyond belief, and it was our right as God’s children, all of us, regardless of who we were or where we came from, to live in His kingdom.

  That was what it had meant to my parents to believe in God; that the world was precious and I deserved to live in it.

  That was the love and hope that had led me to want to travel. That was the bright, naive thought that led me one day to fly to Cambodia.

  I felt that old sentiment rising again as I looked upon the unfamiliar world in front of me.

  “The people who inhabited this land before the Sangferrians, they called it Yggdrasil. They believed it to bind together all the Six Realms… well, that’s mostly just legend, though. Those people only admired from afar, from these mountains; they never actually came into contact with the elves of Tenmai.”

  Belle shrugged and continued.

  “But we do have them to thank for this mountain range’s name. ‘Yrd’ll’, it’s a strange contraction, but it’s meant to be ‘Yrd’s Well’, named after one of three guardian goddesses who supposedly watched over the World Tree from afar, who used these mountains as home. Supposedly, they’re meant to be wellsprings of fate and knowledge. I don’t know about all of that, I just love the view.”

  She laughed boisterously, before picking herself back up.

  Above us, I could start to see tinges of purple mixed in the yellow and orange.

  “Come on, let’s keep going,” she nodded towards the mountain, “we still got quite a bit left. We can still make it right as sunset happens if we’re lucky.”

  I sighed, tugging at my thick jacket’s collar and readjusting it around myself, before joining Belle as we continued to ascend further into the skies.

  It wasn’t long before we eventually crossed the clouds themselves, breaching the layer of mist that separated the earths from the heavens.

  It felt strange, walking through that fog, like I was truly about to witness the grace of God that I had been searching for all my life.

  It didn’t last long however, as that lonely mist dispersed, leaving behind nothing but a clear sky above-...

  Well, no, I guess it was below me now, wasn’t it?

  That was a funny thought.

  We continued to climb even higher and climber, until eventually, there was nothing more to climb.

  The ground beneath me levelled out, treacherous inclines flattening into a small rocky plain.

  I started to recognise the view in front of me.

  The shape of the rocks, the trees beneath us, the mountains and plains at the horizon, the way nature was carved all around us…

  It was just like that painting in the Symphonia Sonata.

  “Here we are, champ,” Belle sighed, stretching herself out after a long day of climbing, “come on, let’s sit down, reap the rewards.”

  She smiled, spotting a familiar spot on the mountain’s summit, and set down the bag she had been carrying all day on her back.

  The bag was pried open.

  A small portable stove came out of it.

  Belle clicked her fingers, and in a snap of magic, a fire lit under it.

  I raised an eyebrow at her as I sat down next to her.

  She just shrugged in response.

  “Well, we’re probably not gonna be back until midnight, might as well make something to eat while we watch, no?”

  I didn’t really have a response for that.

  I looked away and turned to the sky as Belle pulled out shredded, smoked ham, layers of cheese, eggs and bread.

  …

  The timing really was perfect.

  Even in my previous life, I had never quite seen anything like this.

  “Hm? Look at that,” Belle raised an eyebrow and smiled, idly assembling the sandwiches without looking, “full moon’s out tonight. That’s some good timing, isn’t it? Sure as hell picked a good year to do this.”

  As the sun sleepily dipped below the surface, letting out one final flash and roar of orange light, the full moon crept out behind it, gently ushering it to sleep as the dying embers of daylight were sent to rest by its lullaby.

  It seemed almost like the moon had a body, in the colours of the sky itself, using its tendrils of blue and purple mist to slowly push its sibling to sleep.

  And as the day ended and night roses, faint glimmers of starlight broke through the void’s veil, peeking through the sky and crawling past the sun’s last light.

  I could see the curvature of the world from up here; the way the sun’s light gently bent around the world to our west, while the curtain of stars slowly drew itself from the oceans far out to our east, beyond the coast of Tenmai.

  Dawn and dusk, day and night, both at the same time.

  I smiled, feeling a bit more at peace with myself.

  The world really was a beautiful place.

  “Here.”

  A few minutes later, Belle handed me a toasted sandwich, filled with ham and gooey cheese, lightly dipped in a batter of egg to form a crispy crust, perfect for warming the soul without need for a fork and knife.

  The bread lightly crunched between my teeth as the stars bloomed like flowers in spring.

  And those strings of starlight joined together as they shone, swirling into an evanescent, beautiful veil, an infinite tapestry of ever-distant suns and stars and planets that all just kept extending out into the depths of the universe, until they became too distant to even see, smothered by the void.

  And the night continued to get darker still, and slowly, very, very slowly, the true depths of the night’s wonder began to reveal itself.

  And it was then, finally, that I found what I was looking for.

  The sight that I was looking for, that I had seen in the Symphonia Sonata.

  The curtain of night peeled to the sides, revealing the grand stage and the main actor of that night’s festival…

  The grand spectacle that had cleaved that painted double page spread in twain, separating the two lovers sitting beneath it.

  An infinite galactic road of stars, stardust and nebulae, the silver river upon which all starlight travelled, gathering on its railway as it fell from the void to our horizon, and then even further beyond – Manusyara just being one stop on its galactic journey.

  That loving brushstroke of Heaven, connecting us to the stars, descending from beyond, guiding us through the night, the milky swirl of that celestial paint gently gathering right underneath the horizon…

  The Milky Way, most people called it.

  I remembered it as the ‘Silver River’. That was what my parents called it.

  I smiled, warmed to my soul.

  It wasn’t just the sight that warmed me.

  It wasn’t just the food.

  It wasn’t even the jacket.

  It was all of it.

  I remembered that I used to see something like this every year when I was a child.

  Every year, without fail, on the 7th of July, my family would dress up in old, ceremonial garbs, and then my father would hop into a car and drive us far, far into the countryside, where no light pollution remained, and we would all just watch the stars together, revelling in the beauty of the galaxy we lived in as magpies flew across the sky.

  I felt like I was a child again, watching the stars with my family.

  It really felt like they were here.

  I could just see and feel them so clearly, right by my side, hugging me as we all said our prayers and cherished our time together, letting the night of the 7th of July just take us all away into its celestial wonder.

  I could hear their voices.

  They told me how grateful they were that I was born into this world, that they could share everything they had with me, how happy I made them and how much it meant to them that they would be able to share the beauty of nights like this with me, and that this beauty of the world was eternal.

  And I felt all of my troubles just… melt away.

  I realised just how petty I was being, and it all just felt so silly now, thinking about those times I spent with my parents, what it was that they actually wanted to teach me.

  I don’t think they really cared whether or not I believed in God.

  They just wanted me to know that the world was beautiful, and their love for me would be as eternal as its beauty; that the world’s beauty was the reason I was born, and that they hoped I would be able to see everything it had to offer.

  But all I did with that love was just run away, looking for some other excuse. That wasn’t enough for me, I needed external salvation, I needed an excuse. I needed to be told I was blameless.

  No matter what, I just absolutely had to find proof that the only set of footprints in the sand were not my own, but that of God.

  And I resented Him for never finding that proof.

  And for some reason, I resented magic itself as if it had anything to do with that.

  It didn’t, of course, it was just a part of the world that I now lived in.

  The world was beautiful. Magic was just another part of that beauty.

  It wasn’t anything lofty or divine or supernatural, it was just part of how things were. Like the beauty of the sunrise or sunset, or the beauty of the stars at night as they called to the moon.

  There was nothing ‘greater’ about it. It was not a divine calling or god-given prophecy or anything else of that sort. It wasn’t like Jeanne d’Arc being chosen by God to fight a grand war, or Apollo granting chosen mortals the gift of prophecy.

  It was just as ordinary and mundane as everything else was.

  People used it for silly things, like keeping clothes warm, or making them stay attached to people’s bodies. They used it to light stoves; that was about as ordinary as it got.

  Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Father.

  Maybe God couldn’t carry me through the sand, but maybe He didn’t need to.

  Maybe there were two sets of footprints in the sand, after all.

  It was just never mine or His.

  It was always just you two, carrying me through tough times, until I ran away from it all.

  Sorry, I don’t think I’ll ever get to watch the stars with you, my family, again.

  …

  No, I-...

  I suppose that wasn’t right.

  My vision fell from the sky, trailing down the heavenly river until my gaze flattened out at the horizon.

  I turned to my side, looking fondly at the woman mindlessly chewing on sandwiches as she looked up at the sky.

  I was watching the stars with my family.

  Because my family was Belle now.

  I giggled.

  I shuffled myself a bit closer to her and the fire lit behind us.

  I closed my eyes and let myself lean on her.

  She bristled awkwardly, looking at me with a weird gaze.

  Embarrassed, she put her other arm around me, smiled, and pulled me closer.

  “Thanks, Mother.”

  “...You don’t have to force yourself, you know that, Estelle?”

  “It’s fine… I-... the word doesn’t hurt that badly anymore.”

  “Really, what happened?”

  “I can feel them here… they’re with me.”

  Belle chuckled.

  “Really, that so?”

  “Yep, they’ll be here the entire night, too.”

  Her chuckle bloomed into a laugh.

  She shovelled down the rest of her sandwich, before clearing her throat.

  “Hey, Pops, Mom… you there?” she shouted out into the void, calling to those ghostly figures on the other side of the heavenly river, “If you’re listening… wanted to let you know… you raised a good kid. Thanks for letting me take care of her, I’ll do my best not to let you down.”

  I giggled.

  For a minute, we just enjoyed each other’s company in silence.

  “Hey, Mother.”

  “Yeah?”

  “About my birthday… tonight would be good.”

  “Well, that’s awkward… didn’t prepare anything for a birthday gift. Uh, happy birthday, squirt?”

  “That’s fine, haha… this is good enough.”

  “...”

  “Hey, about Nindo…”

  “Hm?”

  “I think I’ll try for it after all. Being a healer… someone who can save lives, undo tragedies, make miracles happen… that… that would be nice.”

  “Sure thing, kid. Sure thing.”

  Her grip around me became a little more natural, and she pulled me just a little bit closer.

  Mother and daughter sat atop the skies, at the tip of where heaven met the earth, and just watched the stars peacefully as the full moon sang them a lullaby for a good night’s sleep.

  And there, underneath all the lights in the sky, basking in the world’s beauty, I let myself drift off to sleep, comfortable in my mother’s arms.

  If you don’t know what the whole deal is with the 7th of July and what it has to do with festivals and seeing the stars, I didn’t forget about it. It’s meant to be saved for later in Episode 3.

  If you’re curious though, look up ‘Tanabata’ or ‘Qixi Festival’.

  Tomorrow will be an interlude from Seekers of Lost Sins in the game from Belle's side, starting a new series of interludes about the Void.