It had been a long time since Rinoa felt the call of magic from Fitran. Since the last time she touched the cracks of the world, where the Void and Aether collided, doubt had enveloped her heart, casting a shadowy fog within her soul. She found herself questioning the very existence of Fitran—was it still a shimmering presence in the world, or had it faded into mere myth, lost in the crevices of history and the unrelenting flow of time?
But that night—in a nameless garden, shrouded among the remnants of a kingdom that echoed only through the whispers of wind sifting through debris—she heard footsteps. Those footsteps awakened long-buried memories, guiding her toward the shadows of her past.
Softly resonating, a voice filled with mystery floated through the air, like a haunting melody suspended between the tangible world and the ethereal realm of illusion.
"Do you still love him?"
The voice belonged to Juliet, a figure seemingly woven from the shadows of memory, as if the night breeze had breathed life into a long-forgotten tale. Or perhaps she was the final echo of a soul ensnared in the curse of eternal love, trembling on the precipice of existence.
Rinoa turned, and before her stood Juliet, framed by the haunting shadows of roses that had never bloomed. Around them, the withered flowers seemed suspended in time, their lifeless forms a stark contrast to the vibrancy they once possessed. Juliet's hair shimmered with a damp sheen, as though she had just emerged from a torrential downpour, despite the night sky hanging dry and still above. Her eyes glowed an eerie red, not from the stain of blood, but from tears that flowed through generations, bearing the weight of forgotten tales, as though history itself was cradled within her grasp.
"You… should be ill, sensei,"
"My Dear Romeo takes away my pain," Juliet replied softly, her voice quivering like a gentle whisper borne on the wind, "It's not merely an illness, but a deep curse. And he—Fitran—is trying to end it."
Rinoa fell silent, her heart resonating with those words, as if rekindling the pulse of life that never truly fades.
"What do you mean?"
Juliet stepped softly, each movement caressing the earth, as if she sought to erase the traces of the wilted flowers that lay there with pride, no longer glowing with the beauty that once captivated all who glanced upon them.
"He is fighting now, Rinoa. In the depths of that grotesque curse. In a boundless ocean where dark waves crash against one another with a thunderous roar. He faces the one being that witnessed the eternal vow between Montague and Capulet: Leviathan."
"Why?"
"Fitran…" Rinoa whispered his name in her heart, her voice quivering as if the mere memory was unspooling every fear she had ever held. "Since that epic battle at Arkanum Veritas, when he fought valiantly to shield me from harm—when all hope seemed like a fleeting shadow, he emerged like a soft, radiant light illuminating the end of a dark tunnel. I can still recall how his magic enveloped my body with a comforting warmth, flowing gently like a river of healing, cradling me as I surrendered to the depths of darkness."
"After that fateful day, the gratitude that initially filled my heart slowly morphed into something far more intricate and profound. With every fleeting second, as I navigated the tumultuous journey of life, his image haunted my thoughts unrelentingly. His smile, a beacon infused with unwavering courage and unyielding hope, rekindled desires within me, while the tragic shadows of the past loomed ominously in the background. At times, I felt an invisible magical thread tying our souls together—a delicate web intricately woven into an unseen dimension, pulsating with a life of its own."
"He protected me, that much is true. Yet now, I long for more than mere expressions of gratitude. A burning urge simmers deep within me, an insatiable curiosity bubbling forth like molten lava eager to burst from the earth's core. Each time I hear his name, my heart races as if the very magic that surrounds us were igniting within my being. How could I possibly ignore such a profound emotion—one that seems to wield the power to transform everything?"
"My heart is embroiled in a relentless battle, caught between profound gratitude and a sudden surge of attraction, like lightning splitting the silence of a dark night. The magic we share—the ethereal bond that intertwines our souls—ignites a longing that shakes me to my core, instilling in me an almost unbearable desire to see him, to converse with him, and to welcome his presence in every corner of my life. Could love truly endure, even when fate seems as cruel as a tempest tearing apart the tranquil landscape of our dreams? The shadow of Fitran's magic flits through my thoughts; he is the valiant knight who rescued me from the clutches of despair, but could he also be the soulmate I am destined to find, the guiding star on my soul's journey?"
"Because he cannot bear to witness love chained by tragedy, like a delicate bird ensnared in a cage of sorrow. He yearns to shatter this cycle, to rewrite the tale that binds us, so that no one is ever forced to choose between love and heartbreak. But if he does falter... then love will forever be damned," Juliet explained, her tone imbued with a blend of hope and bitterness, much like morning dew clinging desperately to life before the sun's merciless rays scorch its fragile beauty.
"Do you feel the same way, Rinoa?" Juliet inquired, her gaze piercing through the veil of uncertainty, hope shimmering brightly in her eyes.
"Huh!," Rinoa murmured, her voice barely escaping her lips, muffled by the growing anxiety that coiled tightly around her heart, as if dark shadows were enveloping her innermost feelings.
"I don't know what emotions flow within my heart, but Fitran…,"
Rinoa clutched her chest, feeling a tumultuous flame ignite within her, a fierce blaze struggling to break free. The intensity of her emotions surged, fighting to emerge yet tangled in the complex language of Aether and Mana she typically wielded.
Juliet broke the silence with a light, melodic laugh, her voice spilling like a gentle breeze, dissolving the heavy tension that permeated the air around them.
"Aren't you two like cats and dogs, always bickering whenever you cross paths, merely brushing by one another without so much as a greeting?" she teased, a playful grin lighting up her face like a beam of sunshine piercing through a stormy sky.
Rinoa fell silent, a wave of anxiety washing over her as if an invisible weight settled atop her heart. An unshakeable feeling trailed behind her, persistent and undeniable.
"I…,"
"I want to say that…,"
"To express something called 'love', but that love…,"
Rinoa faltered, her lips frozen in place, unable to articulate the tempest brewing inside her. Her heart felt burdened, heavy with dark clouds of uncertainty. Why did the word elude her? A creeping doubt loomed like an ominous shadow, casting a pall of profound sadness over her thoughts.
"Do you want to go find him?" Juliet inquired, her voice soft yet resolute, piercing through the suffocating silence that enveloped them.
Rinoa nodded, feeling a newfound determination ignite within her, like a flickering flame fighting against the relentless storm, poised to overcome any barriers in its path.
"Take me to him," she whispered softly, her voice trembling with urgency as a rush of magic surged within her, an unseen tide pulling her back to that fateful moment when Fitran had saved her amid the chaos of the battlefield, clashing swords and thundering spells echoing in her mind. She vividly recalled the warmth of Fitran's hand, as if his life force flowed into her veins, a comforting flame igniting in the darkness, mirroring the brilliant light of hope that sparkled in his bright eyes. Since that moment, her thoughts had been ensnared by the shadows of his presence, haunting yet alluring, as her longing intensified to a fever pitch.
"He is just a sorcerer," Rinoa murmured, her gaze drifting toward the horizon where the vastness of the sky melted into the shimmering sea, a breathtaking canvas painted in hues of fiery oranges and tranquil blues. "But there's something deeper—a silent connection that lures me in, as if our souls are intertwined beyond the confines of this realm. His heroic deeds have kindled a warmth within me, stirring feelings of love and protection that wrap around my heart like a soft, comforting blanket, an invisible magic woven through the very fabric of our destinies. This sensation has blossomed from mere gratitude into a profound and enigmatic love, a radiant light guiding me through the encroaching shadows."
Juliet nodded, recognizing the profound significance in Rinoa's words. From her hand, the crack of water widened, unveiling the surface of the ocean like a shimmering portal to a realm untouched by time. It was a world where tranquility reigned, yet Fitran stood resolutely against the tides of impossibility, battling the encroaching shadows that threatened to erase his existence from the very fabric of the narrative.
"Gate of Underworld, Black Sea of Nothingness."
With those fervent words, Rinoa leaped forward, her spirit ablaze with unwavering conviction. She did not advance as a mere witch or Void Seer, but as a champion who would not allow love to become just another casualty in a saga laden with curses. Deep within her heart, she grasped that love transcended the struggle for another; it was also about surmounting the sorrow and encaging fears that quivered within her unsteady chest.
"Black Sea of Nothingness"
—In a place where love is tested against impossibility.
Rinoa's steps grazed a ground that barely deserved its name; she alighted upon the cracks of memories, pieces of dreams scattered like fragile leaves left behind by souls who had once loved yet tragically lost. Each footfall released a hollow sound, a mournful echo that seemed to resurrect the tales etched into the very fabric of this forsaken place. The air around her grew heavy, not from a lack of oxygen but saturated with unfinished emotions that whispered of a story brimming with pain and longing. Here, time did not march forward; it spiraled in circular agony, each second reverberating like echoes of a past that refused to fade. With every breath she took, the unseen ache filled the void, suffused with remnants of trapped memories.
The sky above was no mere canopy; it was an existential wound, perpetually gaping and inviting sorrow that seemed reluctant to dissipate. Through its fissures, black light oozed—not an ordinary shadow, but a haunting brilliance emanating from a reality stripped of hope. These streams did not illuminate; instead, they consumed every shard of brightness, akin to a relentless black hole absorbing all traces of joy. They seeped into the very fibers of her being, murmuring with ancient voices laden with scars: betrayal, separation, and longings hardened into stone.
As Rinoa slowly surveyed her surroundings, she realized that this world, with its cacophony and frantic pace, was a far cry from the one she once cherished.
The ground beneath him was made of fragments of the heart, smooth yet sharp in texture, each step resonating like daggers piercing his emotions. In the distance, clusters of stones floated suspended in the air, unbound by gravity, yet governed by the intricate laws of feeling that defied reason. Awakened by heartache, they hovered silently, held aloft by hopes that had long since withered into unfulfilled dreams. And the water—if it could even be deemed water—dripped slowly through the atmosphere, shimmering with an ethereal glow, mirroring the forgotten faces of those who once loved and then faded into obscurity.
Amidst it all, he saw her.
Rinoa.
Her figure stood like a sculpture etched from pain and eternity, proud and defiant, even as she bore the scars of battles that transcended the logic of this world. One of her arms had been lost—torn away by a force more primal than time itself, a brutal strike from Leviathan, the Guardian of the Last Oath. Her cloak, once a vibrant symbol of hope, now hung tattered and wild, entwined with the wind, evoking the imagery of a forgotten love story that clung to life, not yet fully extinguished.
Oh, her eyes… They no longer sparkled with the light of triumph or confidence; instead, they reflected a profound and consuming suffering. Those eyes served as a mirror to a soul that has endured unimaginable agony yet remains resolute in spirit. Within their depths, Rinoa beheld a tumultuous sea of despair, interspersed with flickers of something infinitely stronger than the curse of sorrow: unspoken love.
Before Fitran—rising from a swirling vortex of darkness that churns like an ocean of hopelessness—stands a magnificent being that transcends mere physical form, an entity exuding an indescribable aura of greatness.
Leviathan.
It is not merely a monster. It is a curse forged from an ancient pact, a creature born from sweet promises betrayed and irrevocably transformed into tragedy. Its lengthy, scaled body, resembling that of a giant serpent, gleams darkly, as if reflecting the weight of countless painful memories. Each sinuous movement radiates waves of sorrow, while every glistening scale holds fragmented echoes of love that has faltered along the way. Its mouth does not simply unleash a terrifying, echoing roar; it reverberates with the broken oaths of love, etching a palpable tightness in the chests of those who hear it. The breath it exhales carries the bitter scent of betrayal, saturating the air and creating an atmosphere thick with palpable tension.
With a graceful yet horrifying elegance, she circled around Fitran like a colossal serpent worshipping a vengeful deity before unleashing devastation. However, this was not an act of reverence; it was a fierce judgment borne of hidden loves and unfulfilled desires, where Fitran—who sought desperately to break the cycle of this dark curse—had transformed into a defendant daring to confront his twisted fate.
Rinoa felt her body tremble, not from the gnawing fear that clawed at the edges of her mind, but from an awakening deep within her soul. There was a call within her. The aether magic surged fervently through her veins, pulsing faster with a rhythm that echoed the anticipation of Fitran's presence. It was as if the very essence of the universe welcomed him, transforming her suppressed emotions into a vibrant energy that materialized into an intangible figure around her: shattered wings of light, a radiant emblem of her metamorphosis. No longer was she merely a girl awaiting rescue; she had become a courageous figure, resolutely choosing to save, her bravery shining defiantly against the encroaching darkness.
Fitran turned—slowly, his movements imbued with a weighty grace, as if his voice had preceded the shifting of his gaze, drawing attention with an almost irresistible magnetism.
And when their eyes met…
Time stood still.
In an instant, the entire dimension seemed to dim, ensnared in a profound silence. The energetic vibrations of the water ceased as though the world itself held its breath. The usual flows and rumblings of the environment faded away, muted by the purity of this moment. Even Leviathan, the mighty creature usually thrumming with raw power, turned to stone, frozen in the hushed darkness that enveloped them. All that remained was a single small spark of light, softly shimmering and pulsating with life, emanating from Rinoa's eyes. The light moved gracefully, like an invisible river flowing toward Fitran, carrying a warmth that wrapped itself tenderly around the atmosphere.
It was not magic. It was not aether. It was love.