Chapter 57 Besides You (1)
The night descended like a dark veil, enveloping the ruins of the Nix District, where Arkanum hid. The once-mighty walls now bore deep cracks, resembling dark lines like wounds on the face of a forgotten city. Shards of glass lay scattered everywhere, channeling the soft moonlight, reflecting a faded glow akin to remnants of lost hopes. Debris piled high, standing as silent witnesses to the destruction of everything. Rinoa, trapped among the remnants of the past, felt the weight of a trembling breath—echoes of the battle still shaking her soul with an intensity that refused to fade. The enemy's blood on her hands felt like a bitter reminder of choices made.
The wind whispered softly, carrying the scent of dust and memories of burnt magic. Moonlight illuminated the ruins, highlighting the delicate details of dust layers clinging to every corner, casting long shadows that crept in unexpected directions. Every gust of wind brought the rustle of remnants of a bygone life, as if the city still breathed.
Rinoa herself had obliterated the entire hideout of Arkanum Veritas, causing the organization to vanish from the surface of Gaia, leaving behind only dust and shadows of a past that had evaporated with time.
She closed her eyes, allowing the darkness to envelop her. With her eyes shut, Rinoa sensed a delicate vibration in the air, as if something was watching from behind the ruins, in sync with her racing heartbeat.
There, she discovered something—a faint vision, neither a dream nor a magical illusion, but an echo from the deepest corners of her soul. Amidst the ruins, there lay a simple garden, where a striking purple-flowered tree stood out, its bright color contrasting with the darkness surrounding it. Leftover from a nearly forgotten memory, a soft voice filled the silence, like a melody audible only to the souls that endured.
"If everything collapses... you can still dance on the ruins, Rinoa." Amid the scattered stones, there remains a space for hope, preserving room for dreams that never die. That voice seemed to awaken memories of freedom, joy, and untainted dreams; a voice that transcended the boundaries of reality and brought new hope in the midst of despair.
He knew her, even though her origins remained mysterious in his mind.
Quickly, she opened his eyes. His heart raced, and his hands felt his chest, as if something buried there was waiting to be remembered. Shadows formed around him, shaped by the cold moonlight that radiated an aura of nostalgia.
"Who..." she whispered hopefully. "Who are you...?"