Chapter 50: Ruthless

  [Vestige of Time #2]

  It was night. A quiet one, broken only by the sound of crickets filling the air.

  Diona pushed open the wooden door of a modest house, her trembling hand gripping the handle tightly as she stepped inside.

  Her movements were careful, as if she didn’t want to disturb the silence within. But the door creaked nonetheless, the sound echoing softly.

  The interior was simple, dimly lit by a single flickering lantern on a wooden table in the living room.

  Diona removed her stag-horned helmet and leaned back against the door, still holding it. Her shoulders sagged as though the weight of the world pressed on them.

  Her lips trembled. She gently laid the helmet on the floor before raising her hands to her face, wiping at her cheeks as tears began to fall. She shook her head frantically, her breathing shallow, her muffled sobs barely audible.

  A voice broke the silence, low and rough, yet warm.

  “Is it you, my sunshine?”

  Diona froze, hastily wiping her face again before turning toward the sound. “It’s me, Papa. Everything’s fine. Just go to bed.” She called out, her voice steady despite her clear effort to hide her emotions.

  A figure emerged from the shadows – an old man, slightly hunched as he leaned over a cane. His hair was thin and grey, his steps slow.

  He smiled at first, but his expression shifted to concern as his gaze fell on Diona.

  “Diona,” he said softly, his voice filled with worry. He approached her quickly, his cane trembling with each step.

  When he reached her, he raised his hand to her face, brushing the tears from her cheek.

  “Why are you crying, my sunshine?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

  Diona’s composure finally shattered entirely. Her body shook as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Her voice broke into choked sobs as she gasped for breath.

  “She…she killed Alisia!” she cried out. “She said – she said she couldn’t understand, and she just – she just killed her!”

  The old man’s arms closed around her, pulling her close. Tears welled in his eyes as well, but he said nothing, likely unwilling to let his daughter know he was saddened to hear this news as well.

  He held her tightly, his fingers brushing through her long, dark hair. “Who did?” he asked gently. “Tell me everything, sunshine. I’m here. I’m always here.”

  But Diona’s sobs only grew louder, her voice trembling too much for her to form coherent words. “It was…she…she just…I couldn’t stop her!”

  Her father pressed his cheek against the top of her head, murmuring softly. “It’s okay, my baby. Let’s sit down, make some tea – with honey, just the way you like it. Then you’ll tell me everything, alright?”

  Diona nodded faintly, her cries softening slightly as he guided her toward the small kitchen. Her steps were slow, her hand gripping his arm for support as they moved through the dimly lit house.

  In the kitchen, her father clapped his hands to light another lantern. Then, he pulled out a chair for her, and she sank into it, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders continued to shake.

  As the man turned toward a metallic pot at the other end of the room, the soft sound of footsteps filled the room. An older woman entered, her gray hair neatly tied into a braid. She paused in the doorway, her face a mix of happiness and concern – a seemingly impossible combination.

  “My baby! I knew it.” She said softly, crossing the room quickly.

  Diona looked up briefly, her tear-filled eyes meeting her mother’s gaze. The old woman embraced her tightly, tears slipping from her own eyes.

  “I heard the crying.” She said, her voice warm but trembling. “I didn’t understand at first, but…I never expected to see you here. Not at this hour. You’re not supposed to leave the temple this late. What happened, baby?”

  Diona hugged her mother back, her sobs starting anew. “I…I didn’t know where to go.” She whispered, her voice muffled against her mother’s chest.

  The woman stroked her daughter’s hair and glanced at her husband, who was just finishing brewing the tea.

  “We’re here, my baby.” She said softly. “You can always come to us.”

  The father brought two steaming cups to the table, placing one in front of Diona and handing the other to his wife.

  Diona’s trembling hands wrapped around the cup. She took a few sips, her tears subsided slightly, though the heaviness in the air remained, and her body still shook.

  Her father sat beside her, his eyes filled with worry. “What happened, sunshine? Please, tell us.”

  Diona stared into her tea for a long moment, the words catching in her throat. She took another shaky sip, her eyes welling up again. She struggled to speak.

  “You mentioned Alisia, sunshine,” her father prompted gently. “She was…killed? What happened?”

  The name seemed to break something in Diona. Her lips trembled, and she swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice.

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  “She…she was…”

  Her mother, who had been watching quietly, suddenly leaned forward, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Alisia was killed? But how could that happen?” She asked, her voice shaking. She reached out to Diona. “I’m so sorry, my baby. I know how much Alisia meant to you.” Shaking her head, seemingly in disbelief, she continued. “But murder? That’s unthinkable! Who among us would even resort to such a thing? We aren’t like those savages in the outer world. Surely, the High Priestess will punish those responsible, my baby. Don’t you worry.”

  At those words, Diona raised her gaze to her mother.

  “It was…it was the High Priestess – Lady Lysandra.” She choked out. “She killed Alisia! Right in front of our eyes!”

  Her parents exchanged uneasy, shocked glances, their expressions shifting from confusion to disbelief, seemingly struggling to process the revelation.

  The mother stood and wrapped her arms around Diona again, her voice soft but full of concern. “My baby, please…explain.”

  Her father leaned forward as well, resting a comforting hand over Diona’s trembling one. “That’s right, sunshine. We need to understand. The High Priestess is…” He faltered, unable to finish the sentence.

  Diona looked up at them, her eyes red from crying. Her voice shook as she spoke, forcing herself to continue.

  “It was…the upcoming ritual,” she began. “The one Lady Lysandra is so determined to complete. We were preparing for it, working together, when…we took a break.”

  She paused for a moment, wiping her eyes again, trying to steady herself. “Alisia…she spoke to me in private. She said she didn’t understand what was happening. She said everything felt wrong, like we were abandoning so much of what we believed in for this ritual. She said Father Spurius wouldn’t approve.”

  Diona swallowed hard before continuing. “She was confused. Upset. And then…High Prietess Lysandra must’ve overheard us.”

  Her parents exchanged worried glances again, their unease visibly growing.

  “She just froze her!” Diona cried out, her voice breaking. “With her ice magic. Right there. In front of all of us! Alisia couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She was completely still, covered in ice!”

  Her hands began to shake violently on the table as her father held them tightly.

  “And then…” Diona’s voice dropped. “She stepped forward. She walked toward Alisia and started speaking to the rest of us.

  “She said the time was coming for something great – something greater than all of us. Something we’d been waiting for. Something Father Spurius envisioned. She said the heir was coming. She told us we couldn’t undermine her. That Alisia was a lesson for all of us.”

  Her eyes darted down to her hands, her father still holding them.

  “Then…then she…” she had to take a deep breath to steady herself. “She shattered Alisia’s body! Right there. She…she snapped her fingers. And Alisia just…broke. She broke apart into icicles!” Diona broke into tears again. "She was my best friend!"

  Her father shook his head slowly, holding her arm tighter, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and sorrow. “I don’t understand why she had to be so ruthless…”

  His wife nodded, still embracing Diona. “I know. They’re just young girls.” She paused, her voice becoming determined. “Maybe I’ll speak to Lady Lysandra tomorrow to clear things – “

  “No!” Diona cut her off sharply, her voice desperate. “Don’t speak to her, please! She’ll kill you too! I know she will!”

  Her parents froze by her sudden outburst, their expressions shocked.

  “Surely, High Priestess Lysandra won’t kill the Head of Education over a simple question.” Her mother replied softly, brushing Diona’s hair in an attempt to calm her.

  “She would!” Diona shouted, her voice breaking. “She absolutely would!” Her head shook aggressively, tears rushing down her face. “You don’t know her like I do! We, the third-circle priestesses – we’re basically her errand girls! Her slaves! She works us to the bone in that newly-built temple of hers.” She turned to her mother, her eyes filled with terror. “Please, don’t tell her a word! I won’t be able to keep on living if she killed you because of me!”

  She buried her face in her mother’s chest, her muffled cries filling the room.

  “I won’t, baby.” Her mother whispered, her worried gaze meeting her husband’s.

  The man frowned, rubbing his chin in thought. “I wonder who this heir is.” He murmured. “The ritual was said to honor the Destroyer, but this is the first time I’ve heard mention of some heir.”

  The mother nodded slowly. “I thought the same thing. And she claimed Father Spurius envisioned it? I’ve never heard anything like that before. It’s certainly not something I taught to the young’uns.”

  “Because she made it all up!” Diona cried out, her words full of anger and despair. “I don’t know why, but it’s not our beliefs that guide her!”

  Her mother tightened the embrace, holding her daughter even closer. “There, there, baby. Just calm down. We’re here.”

  The father’s expression hardened as he whispered. “I’ll try to learn who this heir is.”

  Diona stiffened at his words, her head snapping slightly. He quickly added. “Carefully, of course. I won’t draw attention to myself or us.”

  “There must be some reason for all of this.” The mother murmured, though she sounded doubtful.

  And then, the memory began to fade.

  [Vestige of Time #2 – END]

  ***

  Once I returned to reality, I realized it was Temporal Trace’s effect. At level 8, the skill promised to grant me the ability to witness a Vestige of Time for most of what I touched. Including humans – or Undead, apparently.

  But things still didn’t make sense.

  If the Heir of Axul – Noctyra – was supposed to arrive back then – around a thousand years ago, then what did Kelltins had to do with it? He wasn’t even alive back then!

  What was the role of this heir in their plans? And how did at all connect to Erebus' plans today?

  I turned my focus to Diona. “Diona.” I whispered. Now, knowing more about her, I tried to learn anything I could. “I know you’re there.”

  I recalled how in my pre-Checkpoint run, she had seemingly transitioned out of her Undead state just before she died. Then, I thought of Kelltins and how he suddenly became aware he was trapped in a time loop, all on his own.

  “Axul are stronger than this, right? You’re not really Undead. You’re somewhere there, aren’t you?”

  She stared at me with her milky-white eyes, unblinking and unmoving. I pressed on, desperate to understand what this ritual was truly about.

  “The ritual,” I began. “What was it all about?”

  “Worshipping. Worshipping the Destroyer.” She responded mechanically.

  I shook my head, frustrated. “Yes, but what did you do? What is this place?”

  “This is. This is the new temple.” She replied, her voice hollow.

  I sighed heavily, mad at myself for asking such vague questions. I needed to go slower, more carefully.

  “Why was this place built, Diona? What even is it? Today we know it as a tomb. Is it a tomb?”

  She remained silent, her gaze shifting away to her scribbled carvings. It looked like she wanted to return to them, but I held her hands tightly, refusing to let her retreat.

  “You’re not Axul. I can’t tell you.” She finally said.

  I hesitated, then switched to a darker tactic – one I was ashamed to use, but it had to be done.

  “Alisia,” I said softly.

  Diona froze, silent tears rushing down her cheeks.

  “Diona, Alisia was killed unjustly, wasn’t she? That Lysandra is a terrible excuse for a human being. The best revenge against her would be to help me. I hate her too. I’ll make sure her visions crumble to dust. Please, help me.”

  Diona didn’t move. She didn’t speak. Seconds felt like minutes as I waited, my heart pounding in my chest.

  Finally, she whispered. “This place was built to house the heir. We were to join him at his arrival, but things didn't go as she planned...”

  Curious, I pressed on. "What happened?"

  "On the night of the ritual, a man arrived." she replied. "The first. The first outsider in many, many years..."

  As her words hung in the air, a tremor shook the chamber.

  I instinctively turned toward the exit, releasing Diona’s hands.

  But before I could do anything, I felt her cold hands resting on my head from behind.

  Diona’s voice came, quiet. “I’ll. I’ll save you.”

  Before I could react, my eyes closed, and I lost consciousness.