I sit by Albo’s side. The maid brought me a small, cushioned chair to sit on. It’s not the greatest, but I’m not really planning on staying that long anyway. Talking to someone who’s asleep just feels like talking to myself.
And it makes me more sad than embarrassed. I know nobody really judges me. I mean, people go to graves all the time.
Even though he’s not dead, I can’t help but feel like he is. It’s been nearly a week and a half, approaching two weeks since the incident at Kala.
Just when I thought my life would start settling down, Rias had to appear. My Soul Sight just had to start acting strange.
Ever since last night, there haven’t been any more mirages clogging up my field of view, and there hasn’t been any weird or strange static surging throughout my body. I’d like to think that it was a one-off thing, but for some reason, I highly doubt that’ll be the case.
“Y’know, I cast my first magic yesterday.”
I say to Albo, as if he could reply to me. Even if he can’t, a part of me wonders if he can at least hear me in his deep slumber.
“It wasn’t like how you cast spells, though.”
“You know how you put your hand out with your palms spread to cast a spell?”
“I guess that’s how everyone does it… anyway.”
“Mine didn’t look like that at all. I didn’t even know I cast the spell until after it happened.”
I get up from the bed, gesturing to my actions from last night as the sun casts a long shadow at my side.
“With a single punch, a beam of light shot forward.”
“It was kinda like a fire spell, except it was much faster.”
“Oh, but it also didn’t spread like fire, though. It was more like a spear attack.”
“So I guess, a mix of ice and fire?”
“From what everyone describes, casting magic feels like you’re growing something out of your hands, right?”
“But when I cast my magic, it felt like I literally had to pierce an invisible barrier.”
“I’m not sure if all arcane magic is like that, but it felt so cool.”
I sit back down on my chair slowly, letting myself sink into the cushion before leaning forward.
“I wish you were there to see it.”
My hand moves on its own as my fingers run through his silky, golden hair. His breathing is too rhythmic and peaceful, unaware of the world surrounding him and his best friend who is set on saving him.
If he woke up with a smile like he usually does, it wouldn’t even feel alien. It’s definitely something he would do.
Anytime now, you can open your eyes and laugh about how I fell for your joke.
Anytime now.
“Anytime now…”
I sigh.
Who am I kidding? What good is it spending my time trying to cope with something that isn’t fully lost yet? He’s asleep, in a coma, sure. But he’s not dead. It feels like he is, but he’s clearly not.
The best I can do right now is keep going. I managed to beat my first opponent yesterday, so I just need to keep up this win streak. Besides, with the entire city searching for Rias, I don’t doubt that it’ll be a matter of time before we find Sulva too.
How many times have I been here now?
How many times have I been sad for him now?
What’s actually going to change if I don’t take charge?
If last night was any indication of my progress, that means I’m doing something right. If the Queen manages to catch Rias, then great. I can use him as leverage to find out where Sulva is hiding.
Those eyes he looked at me with in the Church… they weren’t the same as the ones I saw at the academy. He was eager to leave and not excited to eat. He let his minion do all the work, when he would be the kind of guy who would have no problem playing with his food.
What did Oktavia do to scare him so much? No, it doesn’t matter. If Oktavia did something to put the fear of Eudoxia inside him, then that’s all the more reason for me to push harder, to make sure I don’t disappoint when the time comes.
Because the moment they discover I’m not as strong as my past self, they’ll revert to treating me like some novice.
It does have some benefits. That means they’ll underestimate me and won’t use their most powerful skills at their disposal.
The sound of hardened knuckles clashes against the closed wooden door behind me. It isn’t as gentle as the ones the maids often use, and it’s not as well-paced as Hana’s knocks. This is someone’s rhythm I’m not familiar with.
“Yes, who is it?” I call out, but no response comes back.
“Who is it?” I speak a bit louder this time. It’s possible they haven’t heard me the first time.
But there’s still no response. Was it a mistake? Did someone knock on the wrong door on purpose?
No, that can’t be. A maid would have apologized, and so would everyone else.
Determined to find out who it was, I walk over to the door, the sound of my boots hitting against the soft carpet letting out a quiet crunch. Thankfully, the maids were able to clean and dry all my clothes from the night before, so I didn’t have to go around wearing a different outfit.
It’s fine. I feel most comfortable in these clothes anyway.
My hand touches the golden doorknob and twists it gently, the lock sliding from its place as it lets out a quick clicking sound.
Upon opening the door, I’m met with a familiar face wearing an unusual expression.
Her blond-red hair is unmistakable. It’s not as dark as the one that Hana has, but it stands out enough that if anyone were to walk past her, the memory of her face would be implanted in their minds for the rest of the day.
The strong scent of a flowery perfume does her style wonders, matching well with the princess aesthetic she often struts around in. Her jewelry sense never misses, as she never wears the same accessory twice in a row. But today’s metalwear is much more subtle and humble than the usual pieces that are inlaid with gems.
Her large breasts protrude from her chest, begging to be released from the clutches of the dress’s guard. With every step she takes, it’s as if someone has taken an empty cloth and filled it with water.
She knows this, of course. Every part of her being is a demand for others to take notice of her appearance.
But what is she doing here? Actually, I forgot she was even here at this castle at all.
“Took you long enough, mudbiter.”
She struts into the room, lightly shoving me aside as she makes her way toward Albo’s sleeping body.
“Stop. What do you want, Veronica?”
Just because we survived together doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all you’ve done.
Did she come to settle the score? She always hated me. No, even if she did, I can hold my own against her now.
“I came here to check on this dear boy you care so much about.”
My mouth opens in shock as I hear her words. Did she really say that?
“I’ve always had quite the disdain for you, but I have nothing against him.”
“If anything, he’s one of the few people at the academy that I respected.”
I fire back, “Why? Is it because he beat you?”
A perfect bait. If she’s looking for a fight, I’d rather get started now and get it over with. With her ego, she shouldn’t have a problem lashing out.
And when she does, I’ll fire back again.
“Aren’t you a hothead today, mudbiter?”
I stand dumbfounded. Who is this person? The real Veronica would have thrown at least one or two punches, with a kick as dessert. This level of patience would typically be expected of a normal human, but Veronica?
“Don’t think I’m foolish enough to not see what you’re trying to do.”
“If you think I’m here to fight you, or finish what I started, then you couldn’t be more wrong.”
“The first time you ever decide to use your brain, and it’s all for the wrong reasons.”
Is that all she knows how to say? I feel like I’ve heard these exact lines at least a million times over the course of the last three years.
“What you did last night, what was that?” she asks, instantly following up on her last statement. The question comes so fast I don’t even realize she asked it until a full three seconds later. Her orange eyes stare into my soul, not a single hint of mockery blazing within them.
“I fought against a strange mud-like hand. It was made of human faces and—”
Even thinking about it makes me want to puke. The leftover skin and bones that slid across the surface of the being are too much even for my imagination to bear.
“—And?” She urges me to continue, her arms crossed while her fingers tap lightly against her bicep in impatience.
“And I used my training to defeat it. Mid-punch, I felt something pushing against me, so when I pierced it, it shot blue light from where I stood.”
I don’t quite know how to explain what I did exactly. I would have checked the book last night, but I was so burnt out by the time I got to my room that I instantly fell asleep. I spent the whole day in the training grounds so I wouldn’t accidentally disturb anyone’s search.
I’m sure the book has the information that I’m looking for. I just need to check once I’m free later today.
“These faces, did they speak at all?”
She isn’t interested in the slightest in my magical technique. I assumed that’s what she came here to ask me, but it’s the details of the hands that concern her?
“No, all they did was grunt and scream. The only one that spoke was when Rias gave it a command.”
Her expression sours, and she furrows her brows at me.
“Did they cast magic?”
Has nobody told her anything? I mean, I guess technically this was the government’s business, and she had no real reason for knowing the facts. But knowing her, I assumed she’d yell someone’s ear off until they told her.
I nod at her question.
The face of an egotistical maniac vanishes, and an expression of worry spreads across her face. It’s the kind of face someone would make if they were caught stealing something or forgetting to submit a paper close to a deadline.
A realization slips into her mind as she walks toward me. Her silhouette brushes past me before she’s out the door, ready to leave satisfied with the answers I gave her. But I have questions of my own.
“Hey,” I call out to her. The sharp sound of her heels piercing the soft fabric of the carpet halts immediately. She turns her head over her shoulder, not even asking me what I want. She simply waits patiently until I manage to get my words out.
Seriously, who is this?
With a forced gulp, I build up my courage.
“Why do you always call me mudbiter?” I start. “I can use magic now, and actually, it also happens to be the rarest kind out there.”
“You used to torment me with that horrible nickname because I was incapable of casting spells, right?”
“But just a few minutes ago, you still called me a mudbiter. Why?”
My voice raises, cracking with every fifth word that travels through my throat.
“I genuinely don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve so much ire from you. You’ve beaten me, pushed me, sometimes stripped me of my dignity and self-respect.”
“If it wasn’t for Albo’s interference, I would have left the academy a long time ago.”
She stands patiently in the same pose as I barrage her with the pent-up emotions within my heart.
“Do you simply take pleasure in hurting others?”
“Or were you jealous of me because you had no real friends, and I had at least one?”
Jealous. That’s the trigger word that forces her to turn around. I do the same. It’s only natural. After all, people can’t have a proper conversation with one another if they’re not looking into each other’s eyes.
One can tell so much by looking at the eyes. That’s a lesson Professor Hector taught me long ago. Maybe this is where she starts shouting at the top of her lungs. But I still need to know. I need to know why she is the way she is.
“You’re jealous that I have someone who cares,” I say as my legs tremble. “You were always surrounded by others, but were they someone you could really put your trust in?”
“Are you doing this because you’re lonely? Do you envy my relationship with Albo so much that you go so far as to check on him?”
I’m a mess. My voice, my arms, and my legs are all shaking. It’s not from fear of Veronica, but fear of the truth. What am I going to do even if she tells me that she is jealous of me? Do I just walk away with a smirk on my face?
What am I even trying to achieve here?
“You’re quite the fool if you believe I’m jealous of you.”
Unlike me, though, her voice is steady. The calmest I’ve ever heard her speak. If her cadence was always like this, then she would have no problem garnering the attention that she so desperately seeks. No need for expensive jewelry and clothes, just be yourself.
“Then why?” I ask.
“Because you were, and still are, pathetic.”
She says it like it’s a matter of fact, like it’s something that everyone in the world is aware of.
“What does ‘pathetic’ mean to you then?” I ask.
Her response comes quickly, as if it were rehearsed beforehand.
“Someone who has no worth in life.”
“You acquired new skills and abilities. I have seen it with my own two eyes, after all.”
“But the core of who you are never changed.”
“When I was admitted to the academy, I had my assistant present me with the files of every single student. Of course, the faculty tried to stop me, but nobody can truly be an obstacle before me.”
“Perfect grades on the written exam, and somehow exempt from all practical exams.”
“Your file had one special highlight, one note that said, ‘possesses no Birthmark.’”
“And yet, despite your unique trait, you put no effort into standing on your own two feet when challenged by those greater than you.”
I shoot back, “Greater than me? Like you? Just because you’re a royal?”
“As usual, quite slow on the uptake.”
“Then explain it to me!” I shout, no longer able to restrain my frustration. If she’s going to talk to me, can she at least do it without being so condescending every damn second of her life?
“What brings true value in a person is the way they influence the world.”
“I influence the world with my existence, changing rules and expectations as I see fit.”
I reply, “That’s because you’re a royal. Could you say the same if you were born a peasant?”
Veronica nods. “Even if I was born as the poorest daughter in all of Gwynethorn, I would not be as pathetic as you.”
“There is one philosophy that drives me forward, and one attitude that stands me above all others.”
“And what is that?” I ask as I let out a sharp sigh.
“If you see and believe others to be inferior to you, no matter their status or power, then you are automatically superior to them.”
What? Her words make no sense.
“The way you walk, the way you talk, and the way you behave all depend on your perception of those around you.”
“If you believe yourself to be the Queen of the world, then those who challenge your beliefs and ideals will have no choice but to play on the defensive. That is the true power of ego.”
“Fools claim ego is the same as greed, but it is ego that defines the true success of a person. If you are too humble, too kind, then all you’re asking for is to be stepped on and walked over by people like me.”
“All living creatures are a cog in the machine that we call the world.”
“Every being and every object has a purpose in life.”
“But the moment you become a tool for someone, your entire life’s purpose is that of a slave without chains.”
“Which is why a unique trait that you possess should always be taken advantage of, no matter if those around you see it as defective or not.”
“You were born without a Birthmark, and so you used that excuse to be quiet and nimble, letting that boy take every single insult and dagger shaped like words that pierced him in the back while you cowered behind him.”
“Thousands of stones brought together make a road.”
“Particles of water clumped together make a river.”
“But if you truly wish to be someone, you need to be the rock that juts higher than the others, be the small deviating current of water that disrupts the natural flow.”
“Will people get hurt? Absolutely, but that’s what it means to be above others. If you care for what other people think and worry about their judgment, then you’re no better than an animal whose entire purpose is to be eaten.”
“You never twisted your mind to tell yourself that your gift was one sent by the gods themselves. You could have even gone as far as claiming yourself to be a pureblood, and that all those who possessed Birthmarks were nothing but filthy stains in your perfect vision of paradise.”
I can’t accept that way of thinking.
“You’re wrong, it’s not okay to think that way.”
But Veronica snaps back, “Why? Because you’re worried others might judge you for it? Those eyes will never care if you live or die if you stay the way you are. In order to make yourself known, you must make waves one way or another.”
“Hiding will never make you stand out. Being humble will never advance you in life.”
“Ego, and one’s perception of it, is what makes one special.”
“If you have no limbs, then use that disability to stand out, whether it means putting all your focus into your mind or achieving something that no limbless person has ever achieved.”
“If you’re fat, then do something that would invoke the envy of others.”
“Your past and your origins should never be a reason to stop yourself from wanting to be better than others, to be envied by others.”
“If someone hands you an absurd offer, you should have the self-worth to be able to laugh in their faces and brush them off while hurling insults at them. By doing so, you are not only determining the hierarchy of power within that space, but you’re also living freely in their minds for the rest of the week.”
“Everyone is presented with cards to play in life. No matter how limited they might be, people choose the path they take out of their own volition.”
“You chose to play your cards passively, being a doormat to all those around you.”
“Perhaps if you had discovered your ability to use arcane magic sooner, things might have been different.”
She scoffs, shrugging her shoulders as she turns on her heels. “But I doubt it.”
I speak up before she leaves my field of vision. “Some people are faced with traumatic moments they can’t shake off. These were factors that were put on them without warning or desire.”
Her head doesn’t even turn to face me, acting as if she already won the argument. “And those who refuse to get up, those who decide to let their misfortunes bite away at their lives, that is what utterly disgusts me.”
“Wouldn’t you say it’s unfair for those who try? People who stand back up no matter how hard they were slammed down, they are the ones who deserve to take a spot in the records of the world, not sloths who crave the cages of their own mind.”
“Then we should help them!” I reply. “We don’t throw away people when they’re down. We extend a hand and ask them to get back up. That’s what Albo did for me.”
“And look at you now,” she continued, “only being able to strike out on your own after he vanishes from your life. Maybe I was wrong, and I should have placed the blame on him instead for stunting your growth so much.”
“If you don’t have the ego to be better than everyone else, if you don’t have the ego to be superior, then you’re no different from nothingness.”
“You let yourself be bothered by words too much. As long as you possess that need to be like everyone else, you will always be a simple mudbiter to me.”
“Because with how dull you are to the world, you might as well pave the roads with your teeth sunk into the mud, next to the ants and bugs that get no recognition and certainly do not have any self-worth of their own.”
“If you had been much more prideful of yourself, perhaps we could have been good friends.”
“But maybe in another lifetime.”
With a somber glare, she quietly struts out of frame, the sound of her footsteps growing fainter with each passing second.
The only sounds I can hear are the faint mumblings across the building, no doubt coming from the people trying to talk to Viera about the recent surge in security. But besides that, the world seems so quiet.
Is she right? Can I trust what she says?
She said a lot, but all I could sum up was that she wants me to stand out more and be more prideful. But I can’t agree with everything else she said. Not helping people because it was their choice to end up that way? I don’t believe in that.
Why does she concern herself so much with standing out? What drives her ego so much?
She said she wouldn’t be any different if she wasn’t a noble, but for some reason I doubt that. I bet she developed that behavior because of her luxurious life back in her own country. A normal person would never think the same way she does.
Right…?
But she does have a point in one thing. I did always hide behind Albo when things got tough. I guess that’s why I always stuck around him even when we were kids. When the others picked on me for being quiet, he always made himself their new target.
Always shielding me and being there for me.
She’s right. It’s only because of his coma that I acted the way I did last week. But what happens when I manage to bring him back? At that point, I won’t be the same person anymore. Would he be proud of me?
Or would he see me as someone new and unrecognizable?
As my thoughts slowly drift, I feel a sharp sting course through my body. A familiar miasma fills my nostrils as a dull ringing sound stings my eardrums to the point of insanity. I cup both my ears with my hands, but the sound persists.
I fall on my knees as the world around me quickly shifts from its normal state to a deep blue. My eyes are malfunctioning. No, my entire body is convulsing all of a sudden. My magical energy grows out of control. I can feel its static rushing up and down from head to toe.
My organs are unsteady. It feels like they’re about to burst. I feel sick.
But what snaps me out of my pain is Albo behind me, who's now foaming at the mouth.
I turn around, slowly crawling on my knees toward the bed. His body is jerking all over the place, throwing the neatly placed blanket above him into the air and undoing the sheets with the sheer amount of violent movement.
Last time I saw this, it was just after he snapped his fingers.
Before I can regain my balance, a violent quake surges through the very foundations of the castle. The stone walls above me rain down specs of dust, and the wooden furniture around me collapses into the ground, making one unified noise.
Then…
I hear something shattering. It’s different from the glass cups that broke in front of me. This sound comes from the outside, like a house of glass collapsing in on itself. The screeching noise adds to the chaos before I start hearing the screams of people outside the castle.
A second rumble follows quickly after, accompanied by another shattering sound.
“—What the hell is going on?”
Black and red lightning flashes past the window.
I know this. It’s the same lightning that Sulva used against us.
Are they here? I need to go. But I can’t leave Albo here alone like this.
My body forces itself up, but like a master refusing to let their slave disrespect them, I collapse back down as a familiar yet elusive melody plays in my brain. A spell that does not belong to this world.
Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
My body weight feels like it's been multiplied tenfold. My organs feel like they’re made of steel, unwilling to let me move even an inch. A vibration surges through my bones, violently jumbling my thoughts and senses.
The world that was once filled with blue skies and white clouds is now a shade of dark red, like a blood clot that refuses to go away. Like a food cover meant for its rich diners, a large dome surrounds the city, clad in strange markings all over the vast area.
I use the window’s ledge to support my body, lifting myself up to see the city below. It’s not just me who’s been affected by this strange feeling, as all the people from the city I can spot are lying on the ground.
Some are unconscious, while others fight against their own bodies.
It’s not their bodies that concern me, though, as a sludge of black and brown mud creeps closer to each one before swallowing them whole, like a whale eating plankton. Within a span of seconds, the same hands I faced yesterday now roam along the streets.
It happens to one. Then another. Then another. It’s an endless feast.
“—STOP!” I yell at the top of my lungs, but my pleas barely strike the window before me.
I feel dizzy. I want to throw up.
My breathing is jagged and inconsistent. If I exert any more energy, I might seriously pass out.
But…
What would he do?
My eyes momentarily glance back at Albo before looking outward again.
He wouldn’t let this happen.
No matter how hurt he was, no matter how much of a disadvantage he was in, he would always help whenever he could.
Especially for me. Especially for me!
I can’t wear his clothes and slack off. If I’m going to take up his appearance, I should at least act like him!
Closing my eyes, I first focus on gathering strength around my temple. It’s a simple visualization, but hardly a flawed one.
With a single command, I interrupt my body’s forced slumber. The lights on my body start off dim before glowing brighter and brighter.
It’s not my optimal strength, but for now, this will do.
I enhance my right arm’s physical capabilities, feeling a sudden surge of heat and pressure beneath my skin before throwing a strong, determined right hook at the window.
Upon instant contact, the frame shatters.
The glass breaks into beautiful flakes of transparent snow that catch the light as they fall. I can feel the vibration of the impact travel all the way up my shoulder.
I’m always the weak one, always the one waiting for things to resolve.
But not today!