Tifalla was given a taste of luxury when it came to being a Virtuosa. It felt like the first drop of wine she ever had as a little girl.

  She had her own room, she had her own bath, and she possessed a number of gifts no woman of the cloth knew what to do with. It surprised her, really. When she returned to her room after the briefing, she found a whole group of women waiting for her. They stripped her of her clothes, tossed her into the bath, and began to douse her skin in floral water. Tifalla was not a terribly shy sort, but she recognized none of the women tasked with tending to her. There was a faint moment in which she cared, but it passed her by when their fingers dug into her muscles. Every press made her feel like dough in a baker's hands. Knots in her back that she never knew existed were massaged away, turning her poor brain into mush. She let out the faintest noise of protest before she lost control and submitted.

  The next few days passed the exact same way. She would be dragged into treatments, dressed, undressed, fed, and cared for without her ever needing to lift a finger. At first, it was new and exciting. She felt like a noble lady, refined and beautiful. But everything would change the moment she stepped outside of her room. Always, without fail.

  She was forbidden from leaving at night. If Tifalla had a choice, she wished she would be forbidden from leaving during the day as well. It served her better than being subject to the isolation of Cantabile.

  Priestesses dodged her every attempt at reaching out. If they weren't busy crowding around another or conducting daily tasks, Tifalla would be brushed off with remarkable speed. After two or so days, she grew to accept her newfound place. She didn't bother reaching out and she didn't place herself in the presence of others. Every room she entered would grow uncomfortable by virtue of her being in it, she knew this well. Her walks would be taken by her lonesome, something she was, at least, accustomed to already.

  The singular exception was with Laetitia.

  Whenever they crossed paths, Tifalla would attempt to speak to her. Laetitia always realized quickly and made a similar effort.

  Every time, Rhea intervened.

  Tifalla didn't know what Laetitia did in her free time, but Rhea would always be there to experience it alongside her. Wherever Rhea went, a crowd followed. Like bodies in an ocean, Tifalla would always narrowly miss Laetitia. She, who wouldn't dare fight a crowd, and her who was unable to fight were never able to meet.

  Even so, Tifalla tried. The days counted down and each one marked a new step closer to their impending fate. Tifalla had to speak to her. Ready or not, she at least wished to say goodbye.

  She just couldn't seem to reach her.

  Though certainly left to her own company, Tifalla did have someone to talk to on occasion.

  She, just like Laetitia, would often be surrounded by crowds. Unlike her, however, she could move past them to reach Tifalla's side with ease.

  “You're not very good at this game, you know.”

  Harriet sat across from her in the empty canteen. In the spaces between them lie a board game with black and white pieces scattered about. Tifalla, her brow creased and cheeks puffed, sat frustrated with her devastating loss. How did she fail this time? She played according to the rules; she even employed strategies she recalled seeing. Harriet still completely swept the board!

  “I think I got it figured out.” she said. “I'll win next game for sure!”

  “You said that in the last game. And the one before that. Annnd the one before that. And–”

  “I understand! I swear I can do this! I just need to know the right moves.”

  “If you're still having fun, then so am I. It's fun seeing your face when you lose.”

  Harriet, thus far, has seen every face Tifalla could possibly make. The highs of believing she won, the lows of facing her loss, and everything in between was laid bare for her to enjoy. Just once did Tifalla wish to wipe that smirk off her face.

  “You're playing too aggressively,” Harriet said, resetting the board. “It's okay to play defensively at times. Knowing your strengths and limitations is key.”

  “But you play aggressively too,” Tifalla replied.

  “I do. But that's one of my strengths. I'm not good with defensive playstyles, so I play aggressively to compensate. Since you aren't good with aggression, I overtake you time, and time, and time again.”

  Her smile was innocent. Tifalla almost couldn't believe it was the face of someone who completely dominated the last eight games.

  “Your move~” she taunted.

  Harriet indeed was an aggressive player. It suited her nature. She took charge in conversations and proved to be completely relentless with her retorts and responses. Tifalla couldn't hope to match either her behavior or playstyle. She needed a new approach.

  If she couldn't fight; if she was simply too weak, she only had one feasible option in a realm in which she can't escape.

  She pushed her piece forward. Harriet followed suit. She was clearly aiming to ensnare her in a trap. Corner her pieces, leave her defenseless, and devour her alive. It was how her second game ended.

  Tifalla couldn't let her. Not this time.

  “You're being oddly predictable,” she said.

  “Am I?”

  “You are. Is this a way of teaching me?”

  Harriet laughed.

  “Sink or swim, darlin’.”

  The sounds of pieces shuffling filled the stale silence of the room. Tifalla maneuvered around her advance. Harriet pressed harder. She was going all in. Tifalla spread her pieces thin. Harriet took piece after piece, finding the vulnerabilities placed before her.

  They were sacrifices.

  When Tifalla moved her last piece into place, the board suddenly made sense. She was no longer pawing through the dark in search of an answer. The puzzles slotted into their spots. She had a winning path.

  Harriet's pieces were surrounded by hers.

  One by one, Tifalla picked off her pieces, devouring them in the trap she set.

  When she looked at Harriet, she appeared somewhat surprised. Tifalla knew she wanted her to find the best path, hence her choice in opening, but it seemed she didn't expect her to learn so fast. Tifalla smiled. It wasn't the overwhelming loss she hoped to see, but she felt light; good. Something had finally clicked for her.

  She chose to swim.

  She took Harriet's last piece without skipping a beat. It was a good victory in her eyes, but only truly the beginning for her. One out of nine games wasn't the best record, she knew this well. Still, when she looked at Harriet, her smile was lazy and laced with pride. Tifalla couldn't help but giggle.

  “You must have quite the soft spot for me, don't you?”

  Harriet sputtered and stared at Tifalla wide eyes. She tried to recover quickly, and reap any sense of calm she could. It didn't entirely work.

  Somehow, this felt better than winning against her.

  “What makes you say that?” Harriet asked.

  “You didn't have to make the same move. You even enjoyed watching me lose. I just assumed you wanted to tell me something. A tip, a note, something or another. Am I wrong?”

  The tables turned and they did so rather abruptly. Harriet salvaged some of her demeanor, but Tifalla managed to put a crack in her armor. It felt sweet.

  “Not at all. You've been humoring me for a while, so I wanted to be nice.”

  She reset the board with practiced hands.

  “But you still lost,” Tifalla teased.

  “Don't get cocky. If I put you in the dirt, maybe I'll see that deer in lantern lights look again.”

  “You're on!” she cheered.

  When her voice quieted, she looked at the board with a tender gaze. “Hehe… it's nice having someone to talk to,” Tifalla said, mostly speaking to herself.

  Harriet's movements paused. She recognized something in Tifalla's words. It momentarily darkened her expression. “If you want to talk more often, just say the word,” she said.

  “Oh, I couldn't. You have people you need to say goodbye to as well.”

  Harriet, normally so quick, fell entirely silent. She stared for a spell, prompting Tifalla to cock her head to the side.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Harriet!”

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  A shadow cast over her and Harriet. When she looked up, Tifalla found two priestesses with apprehensive looks on their faces.

  Harriet greeted them with a smile Tifalla thought to be somewhat strained. “I'm right here, ladies. Need something?”

  When their looks shifted to Tifalla, Harriet's smile dimmed.

  “It's just… we really wanted to speak to you. Um, privately!” one said.

  “Yeah! Just between us. It's really important.” the other added.

  Tifalla took it upon herself to begin clearing the board. A sudden hand stopped her in her tracks.

  “Can it wait a bit? I'm still in the middle of something here,” Harriet said.

  Tifalla didn't miss the flash of disgust that ran across a priestess's face. Looking down and away from their scorn, she carefully pulled her hand away.

  “No need to worry,” she began. “I had something I needed to do. You should speak to them. You don't want to miss anything important!”

  Her tone was upbeat, but it was readily apparent that Tifalla was being driven away. She knew it, Harriet knew it, and the priestesses knew it. The only one to object was Harriet, but even she could see what both parties wanted. She sighed and didn't bother looking pleased about the situation. She leaned her cheek against her palm and stared at the girls before her.

  “Make it quick,” she said coldly.

  Tifalla chose to make her escape before she too could be subject to such blatant rejection. Though she didn't see their faces, the nervous stutters after she left the canteen were all she needed to know. In Harriet's good graces they were no more.

  The return trip to her new room was quiet as expected.

  No further attacks took place against her, but Tifalla couldn't help but still be wary of Cantabile. A place she once knew as home had become hostile in the span of just a few days. Tifalla was certainly troubled, but her memories still remained. She still recalled hanging out in the halls just before dark, drinking stolen wine and giggling about nothing important. Everything felt so slow back then. There was a time where she resented this. She wanted to return home so badly that every day felt agonizing. Yet, the people made it bearable. They soothed the wounds of homesickness and killed her sadness with laughter.

  She would always have that. None could take it from her.

  She entered her chambers and shut the door behind. Finally secure, she ventured to her desk where her scattered things lie. Per her request, the things from her old room were moved to the new one. She felt bad asking for such a task considering everything would be thrown away in due time. Still, comforts were comforts and Tifalla indulged in them to bolster her good memories. Small reminders helped her to know what she had the whole time.

  Her saved prescripts were the center of her focus this time. She had already gone through other gifts and trinkets she collected, but she hesitated to touch her old orders.

  Everything had to be thrown away before she left. Tifalla cast aside everything except them.

  The joy they brought was immeasurable. She remembered how she felt seeing many of them for the first time. They were invaluable.

  But, Tifalla was not long for this world. If she didn't remove them, someone else would. Someone who couldn't cherish them the way she did.

  They had to be destroyed by her hand.

  She grabbed the first stack and began to untie the twine. Scattered papers fell to the ground, and she began to look through them. After each one read, she grabbed scissors and cut them into tiny pieces.

  “Read the priestess records of A26. Every. Single. Year,” she murmured.

  She remembered the day well. Laetitia found her crying over the books, struggling and unable to read certain words. She and Rhea sat with her holding a dictionary until she could read the entire Aria's records. She learned a lot that day.

  She cut it into pieces and added it to the growing pile at her side.

  More and more prescripts were cut away. In due time, the first stack disappeared. Her entire first year as a priestess was gone.

  It felt terrible, yet freeing.

  “What are you… doing?”

  Tifalla looked up, finding nothing there. As to be expected. She laughed at her own blunder and regarded the curious Lord with calm thoughts.

  “I'm clearing away old prescripts. They're orders from my councilman.”

  “What… part of this task has brought forth such emotion…?”

  Tifalla hummed to herself. She supposed memories are better when shared.

  “I receive one every day. This pile has been my entire life while at the temple. Like this one! ‘Sweep snow from the outer temple pathways.’”

  “Sweeping… brings you joy?”

  “Not really. It's a tiring and monotonous task. But, I did so with friends, and that made it fun.”

  “Your friends brought you happiness… not the task… why?”

  “Because we talked about silly things and had fun. Things friends do.”

  Eiwar fell silent. Tifalla couldn't tell what he was thinking, but when his voice returned, he seemed to have reached an understanding of some variety.

  “Is your path forward stable?”

  Tifalla wasn't sure what that meant at first. She sat quietly in thought, and his question loomed in the air. Her path forward? Stable? Was she able to continue onward?

  Ah. A realization struck.

  “Are you asking if I can continue?”

  “Indeed.”

  A shot in the dark on her part, Tifalla felt lucky she was able to decipher his words. His form of communication was, at times, hard to parse.

  Tifalla just had to find a way to rephrase it in terms she understood.

  With his request known, Tifalla resumed reading her old prescripts.

  “This one was when I had to help down at the town. Priestesses sometimes help locals living nearby. Just normal tasks. I spent the entire day with an elderly lady. She was rather grouchy, but she gave me lots of gifts after I helped.”

  “She is… cold… but displays acts of kindness?”

  “Yes!”

  “Contradictions and crossed paths… what could it mean?”

  “I suppose humans are a bit strange, huh? She visited me once before she passed away. I miss her sometimes.”

  “You yearn to be at her side…?”

  “I think I wish I had more time with her.”

  “Were your encounters not minimal…?”

  “I love learning about others.”

  Pressed between her finger tips, Tifalla picked up another prescript. After reading it, her eyes brightened.

  “Oh! This one.”

  She held the prescript up towards the light of her room and smiled at the sight of it. Its edges were frayed, and the color washed away, but she could clearly recall the day where the paper was fresh in her hands.

  “This was the first marriage ceremony I took part in. I was still new, but I got to watch the entire ceremony up close.”

  Eiwar listened to her speak before asking yet another question. He seemed especially curious today, though Tifalla didn't mind in the least bit.

  “Humans conduct ceremonies of unity…” he murmured, seemingly to himself.

  “Are you familiar with them? They're so beautiful,” Tifalla thought happily.

  “I am aware… but it is peculiar. What purpose… does it serve? What does it fix…?”

  Tifalla held the prescript close. What purpose did weddings serve? She had a number of answers, but it was hard to find one that would make sense to Eiwar.

  Why couldn't he understand? Was it unfamiliarity with humans? Were Lords not omniscient and ever understanding? Where should she begin? She was certainly determined to try.

  “It's not about mending something that is broken. It's creating something new. Something beautiful! A marriage comes with companionship, understanding, and love. They're a way to show commitment and dedication to another. A loyalty that lasts until death. Or, at least, can last until death.”

  Tifalla spoke from her heart; from her understanding of what these ceremonies meant. She knew of marriages of convenience and marriages of force, but those seldom felt like marriage. They conducted the same ceremony, but the core purpose wasn't a celebration of love, it was a celebration of status. Tifalla cared not for status.

  “Seeing someone be wed to the one they love makes me so happy,” she thought, bashful over herself.

  It was strange explaining herself to Eiwar. She worried it would sound silly or childish, perhaps too human for a Lord to recognize.

  “I see… love brings joy… time brings change… but love is constant. More time… more love… humans operate effectively on such feelings…”

  Tifalla nodded as she began to cut away the prescript. Eiwar continued uttering his stream of thought. It was disjointed and nonsensical, but Tifalla didn't judge. In his own way, he was engaging, and that alone put a smile on her face.

  It was fun to share with him, even if he strained to grasp what she spoke about.

  “This one was when I had to clean the cellar. I caught priestesses sneaking sips of wine. They tried to bribe me with some, but I let them off with a warning.”

  “The drink of man proves irresistible…”

  “The drink of priestesses, rather. Apparently, most people think our wine tastes strange and too sweet. I've always liked it.”

  “Sweet wine… is that bad?”

  “I never thought so. What wine does my Lord prefer?”

  “...I recall a taste of bitter wine… when I…”

  “When you?”

  “It is not clear to me… it's… gone.”

  “I see–” she thought solemnly. “Shall I bring some to you? To remember the taste?”

  “You would make such an attempt for me…?”

  “Why not? Memories are precious! Losing them is such a shame.”

  To think, even a Lord couldn't remember. Tifalla supposed with eons came the loss of the smaller moments.

  He could not share what was forgotten.

  Tifalla felt a pang of pity; a fleeting emotion concealed by uncertainty and apprehension. Though Harriet told her to treat the Lord as an equal, he felt so beyond her scope of reality that she wasn't sure how.

  “I… will wait. For you… for wine…”

  She paused and then smiled.

  It felt like Lord Eiwar was trying to do the same thing she was.

  The gentle sound of snipping scissors filled the quiet air. She found herself falling into a rhythm of sorts, mundane and repeatable actions lulling her into a state of calm. What once began as something stressful felt calming. It was a little strange to feel that way, but as the pile of scraps grew in size, she felt that letting go wasn't so unfortunate.

  Though the situation was forced upon her, she was able to let go of her own volition.

  No one but her would know what they said.

  Well, perhaps that wasn't entirely true.

  Lord Eiwar would know.

  To share memories with another… was there any greater joy?

  She continued to read every prescript. Even when they repeated, a reflection of her monotonous life, she carried the same affection for what lies written on the cards. Eiwar listened intently to each. His questions steadily faded in frequency, but Tifalla could still feel his presence. He was still with her.

  When she neared the final prescript, her most recent additions, something within her constricted. A tightness formed inside her.

  She was so blissfully unaware. At a time where her only concern was whether her friends would make up, she felt nostalgic for a time not too long ago. Her smile did not stay. She held the prescript with unsteady hands, ones that threatened to rip the paper in two.

  “What troubles you so…?”

  He wouldn't understand.

  Tifalla took a deep breath and forced her hands to still.

  “I don't have enough time…” she thought.

  Could she ask for some? Could she be selfish and ask for an eternity? Maybe, perhaps, she could let go once she's had enough.

  A little longer to remain with everyone. A longer game with Harriet, a longer dinner with Laetitia and Rhea, a longer time reading or cleaning. When, in the moment, she wished time would pass her by faster, she never anticipated wishing for the opposite.

  But wishes didn't bring her anything. Even so, she was curious about something.

  “My Lord?”

  “Tifalla…?”

  “Can you see the past?” she asked.

  “I see everything… every path… every moment. Past… present… future… all meld together.”

  Tifalla held her final prescript.

  “I see… in my past, did I smile?”

  A pause. Silence. Then, a reply.

  “You did… your smile was… bright.”

  That was enough for her. Tifalla began to cut away the final prescript. She ended with a smile.

  So long as she was happy for even just a moment, that was enough for her to let go and carry on.

  She needed to look ahead. She knew what the past had. She only had the present and future to control.

  The large pile of scraps were discarded into the trash tub. Wherever she was going, she didn't need them anymore. Cantabile was behind her.

  All she had was one regret.

  “A disruption has appeared… balance must be returned... Repairs must be conducted…”

  Tifalla paused in her cleaning to listen to Eiwar's calls. He was being vague again, but she couldn't figure out what he was trying to say this time.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  The answer felt somewhat obvious, but with Eiwar's tone remaining the same, Tifalla strained to understand him.

  “Must repair… must keep lines stable…”

  She frowned. Looking around her room, she could find nothing amiss.

  Then her eyes locked onto the door.

  A small, near unnoticeable, noise managed to catch her attention.

  Then, all fell silent.

  Tifalla stared at the door, waiting, anticipatory.

  Another knock came, followed by a voice.

  “Tifalla.”

  Direct and curt, the voice from the other side could only belong to one.

  It was Laetitia.