I was in Seclusion for so long that everyone forgot about me

╭══◞ Asche POV ◟══╮

“M-Maera?” I whispered when I looked at my deranged younger-self in front me. That was no grin a human body could ever make, it was wrong, broken—evil. This wasn’t like last night, it was something entirely else, wicked in nature.

I tried to listen in, to see if the voices—the seals—were making her act like this, but there was nothing. No, not nothing, but something deafening, drowning out their every protest and will. Primal, with no room for debate. Worse, no room for me.

Seeing myself like this felt wrong in a way I wasn’t aware I could feel; but it got worse. Maera leaned forward, ashen strains falling around her face as fingers curled around the corners of her mouth. The grin started to break the skin in voidish creeks like ink spreading on paper, tainting even the tips of her fingertips. Infectious it continued, leaving cracks on porcelain turned skin as the body crept doll-like closer to the petrified saintess.

Maera’s eyes had long lost focus, a haze betraying their lust—for suffering, for pain. Yet, at the same time, she was apathetic to the regards of every matter. Like the crescent moons, her monstrous smile had something beautiful, something out of reach. Having said that, it was theatrical like her, but where others had been the participants before, so it seemed she was now to be the doll—strings unattached, a primordial fear let loose.

A voice, unlike anything else I had ever heard, boomed through the Crypt, “Yesss, that is the face I want to see, little divine puppet,” Maera laughed, as she levitated around Alicia, her hands on her shoulders then saying into her left ear: “They won’t come, they won’t help.”

She changed the ear in a fluid motion, “You are alone. Helpless. How does it feel, your beliefs never reaching, no words reaching, no plea listened to?”

Alicia’s face started to crumble like her faith, the words poisoning something deep inside her soul. And Maera?

Maera reveled in it, like an addict she took the scent of despair inside, her eyes becoming glassy, more cracks appearing as if her body couldn’t contain all the madness.

And true to it, she took a step back—spinning—and laughed, empty, emotionless and gruesomely horrifying. As if a soulless marionette tried to copy the living things around it. There was nothing there, only a mockery to life itself. But maybe this was what this was supposed to be. For Maera, none of this mattered, no one did. She was ever-living: out-living. We were like specks of dust to her. Why should she care?

It hurt to see her like this; I didn’t know what had happened to her to make her this way.

I could feel tears forming.

I knew it was naive of me to think I could ever understand her or any of it, but how cruel it must have been that even now, she couldn’t feel her own despair. Her cries for help—empty, hollow, void.

But what could I do? How could I lift this curse that had long since befallen her? I was never good with things like these. I was battle manic, always chasing purpose in thrill and blood. But what was a battle without a dance partner, one who understood you?

How feeble I must have looked in her eyes, a child playing with a stick. And slowly, I began to realize the allure of the System. Strength measured scale; potential to become a god. Could I stand on equal footing then, if I ascended, if I became someone she couldn’t ignore?

The more I understood my own shortcomings, my desperate attempts to get closer to her, the more I noticed just how much of her had rubbed off on me. At the same time, I felt how my bond to Tana stabilizing whatever turmoil was stirring inside me.

So I knew exactly what I had to do.

Without much thought, I dashed into Maera, expecting to be stopped by a ward, but to my surprise she actually stumbled several steps back.

Stunned, she looked at me as if she had forgotten who I was, as if she had forgotten I was even there at all.

Anger boiled up within me. How dare she, I thought again and again. How dare she forget about me. How dare she look only at this bitch?!

Before I realized it, I slapped Alicia, surprising both Maera and myself. But I wasn’t finished yet. Turning back to the primordial troublemaker, I used my wind magic to catapult myself straight into her.

We crashed into the railing—which surprisingly held—and I punched Maera with trembling fists against her chest. Like a drum, I hit her again and again. Tears streamed down my face.

“How dare you ignore me!” I cried. “How dare you forget about me and think only of her! I am here, in front of you. You are mine. And yet— and yet—”

My sobbing drowned my words. I looked up at her baffled face, her eyes full of confusion. The haze was gone, leaving only flustered embarrassment.

But this didn’t stop me from shouting at her and punching her again, “T-Take responsibility, you, you, YOU STUPID CHIMAERA!”

Only after yelling those words did I realize how ridiculous I must have looked right now. A child throwing a tantrum, snot and tears running down their face. I tried to calm myself, but I couldn’t. My sobbing continued as I clung to her clothes, pressing my head against her bosom.

“We are supposed to work together, s-so why… why…” I muttered into her chest.

It felt like an eternity before I dared to look up at her again. I was greeted by yet another face I didn’t know I could make—red and flushed.

For a moment, we simply gazed into each other’s eyes and felt the glistening of our soul bond intertwine even more. A silent acknowledgment that our connection had deepened once more.

“E-Enough!” she faltered and pushed me an arm’s length away. She turned aside and covered her face with her hands.

Driven by curiosity, I tried to listen into her thou—

‘Do not dare!’ she shrieked, shutting me out and summoning her strange vials.

Overwhelmed yet amused by how absurd the situation had become, I burst into laughter.

“What are you hiding behind that face, hm? Won’t you turn to me, Maera?” I teased, my grief shifting into a strange, joyful hysteria.

“Y-You ambivalent bitch,” Maera snapped, throwing the fifth empty vial to the ground.

“Says the one who constantly loses control,” I snickered. “I am the young adult here. What’s your excuse?”

She was about to retort when another voice interjected our delightful quarrel.

“You two are insane!” bellowed the saintess, who had clearly reached her limit. Now that it was obvious we weren’t some kind of divine trial, her composure collapsed entirely. Or—perhaps—her shaken faith did.

I glanced at Maera, still busy downing her vials as her tainted cracks slowly faded and left nothing but perfection behind. Oddly enough, I could feel the vials calming me as well, though in no other way—for whatever reason. This made me suspicious of what they truly were. To anyone watching, we must have seemed completely mental.

I sighed. Time for damage control.

“My dear Alicia,” I said whilst turning to the cowering woman. “I am sorry you witnessed such a crude scene. I reassure you that my companion is stricken by an evil curse powerful enough to bend even some rules of the System. That is why we came to the capital, to seek you and your guidance concerning our rather… unique condition. You see, we are somewhat disconnected from the System—as you might have already noticed.”

The Saintess clapped her hands over her mouth in shock. “D-Disconnected?”

I nodded. “I am afraid so.”

“H-How?” she asked with wide eyes.

Gotcha, I thought, smiling innocently. Only a zealot like her would cling to even the faintest possibility that this was all a ploy of divine will. So I would keep her trapped in this feeble illusion and even give her something more outrageous.

“As you may have heard, my Mistress was once trained by some Witches of the High Council. During her time there, she uncovered the existence of the first continent—Alt-Elyssar—in Calypso’s private notes. It was a place sealed long before even the divine arrived. From what she and I have gathered, it may hold the One Evil. As the Jaeger’s Pledge decrees, Matriarch Asche is bound to seek out the truth of such claims. But we made a grave mistake and triggered an ancient curse. Since then, the System does not welcome us as it did before. Worse, it clouds our emotions and darkens our minds.”

‘I didn’t know you actually listened in to my lectures…’ Maera mumbled through our link.

I huffed, ‘I try to learn new things too, you know. Talking to that dragon-kin in an attempt to find out more about my mother, getting that lamia to visit us, and those endless dreadful hours in the library…’

I shuddered. I really wasn’t made for the academy. But this wasn’t the time to think about that. Maybe once we were in the System things would get easier.

Meanwhile, Alicia studied us carefully, trying to determine whether any part of my story might hold an ounce of truth. Even for a zealot, she wasn’t stupid and would defni—

“Yes, yes! I knew it!” she suddenly exclaimed, her face beaming with fervor. “I nearly faltered—but then I was graced with yet another epiphany: this truly is a divine trial for the most devoted of followers.”

‘Oh no, she actually lost it,’ I muttered through the link in sheer disbelief.

Maera eyed her. ‘Oops.’

I turned to her. Very. Slowly. ‘What did you do?’

After a mental cough she answered with reluctance. ‘I, uuh, may have touched that seal on her soul a little?’

It took everything in me not to throw a wind blade at h— Nah, fuck it.

…

She parried two blades effortlessly. ‘She will be fine, don’t worry.’

I threw another one into her face.

‘Can you please stop?’

Sticking my tongue out, I turned back to Alicia and sent another volley of wind blades towards Maera, who didn’t even bother to block them.

Concerned, Alicia looked at her.

“I-Is sh—”

“Don’t worry about her,” I smiled.

“B-But… ”

I smiled brighter.

She took a deep breath, stood, and stepped forward, taking my hands. “I can see how hard this evil curse tries to control you, but you must not listen to it. So please, cease your attacks on the Matriarch.”

Maera stifled her laughter until Alicia let go of my hands and approached her next.

I smirked.

Unfortunately, Alicia decided to stop in front of her and perform a bow respectfully. “I am sorry, Matriarch Asche, for showing you such an ugly display and for failing in my faith.”

As soon as the words left her lips, the mirth vanished from Maera’s face, replaced first by displeasure, then by an indifferent emptiness. There it was again—the void within her.

“Do not fret, Saintess. A trial will always be a challenge. There will be highs and… lows,” Maera said in a sullen voice. Her eyes weren’t focused on Alicia but on something deeper, unreachable. It was as if she were speaking more to herself than the Saintess.

Alicia raised her voice to speak, but Maera was already walking away down the bridge without waiting for us. The Saintess hesitated, her hand lifting as if to stop her, then retreating just as quickly. She caught it with her other hand and pressed both to her chest in an attempt to calm her trembling. Her gaze turned to me, eyes meeting mine, scrying desperately for something—as if I held a future she was hoping for.

And for just a single breath her eyes gleamed golden, before drowning in the dim light of the Crypt again. Whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it.

She inhaled sharply and ran after Maera, leaving me standing alone. And as I watched her go, I realized something—I did not care.

How depressing, I thought, yet felt nothing.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I rested my arms on the railing and gazed into the depth below. My focus slipped, and I let the moment take me, tipping myself over the bridge. The wind swallowed me at once. Its touch was balm on my soul—an ache, an urge carved into my very nature ever since Maera dragged me back into the living. I cackled at the realization—I wanted to break our bond. I wanted to be with her, but I wanted to be free, not shackled.

But my wings were pruned, and I was restless, caught in this Spiel without the truths needed to settle down.

And in my desiderium I found another truth—I still resented her for what she did.

‘You’re coming?’ broke Maera my spiral.

‘I am coming,’ I answered, void of emotion, transforming into my harpyja form.

And as I rose, I hoped the wind would sweep my worries away and me with it…

- - - - - - - - - -

Alicia was once again leading us deeper into the Crypt, followed by Maera and me, who was still perching on her arm. It was quiet—too quiet for what this place was supposed to be. Irritatingly so. My claws itched with the craving to shatter some undead, but everything was empty.

By the time we reached the tenth floor, even the Saintess—who had slipped back into her happy-go-lucky attitude—seemed worried. This was where the demi-god level began… yet the farther we went, the clearer it became that there were no undead at all.

“Didn’t you say you only cleared to the ninth floor?” asked Maera eventually.

Without stopping, Alicia replied, “Y-Yes, we did. This is weird…”

“How much deeper do we have to go?” asked Maera next.

“The fifteenth floor. The deepest a demi-god ever managed to descend was the seventeenth. None of them ever spoke of what they encountered in the depths, but it must be horrifying, because each refused to return,” the Saintess said and sighed at the end.

“Interesting,” was all Maera had to say.

Honestly, it left me curious. “Did a Jaeger Matriarch ever try to descend?”

That made Alicia stop. She turned around, eyes wide. “Of course not! This is still a Crypt. They would only cause a dungeon break!”

“Isn’t one here with you right now?” I replied, baffled.

Alicia stared for several seconds, her gaze flickering between Maera and me. Slowly, some gears in her head began to turn, but—

“Haha, oh gosh, I totally forgot!” laughed Alicia. “Madam Asche is so nice that I forgot she was also a Jaeger.”

“H-Huh…” I screeched, adding through the bond to Maera, ‘How is it possible that the Matriarchs are even crazier than you? I swear, something clearly isn’t adding up here.’

‘Oh no, they were always crazy. You just remember it wrong because they had no other choice but to respect you in personal meetings. But thanks to your questions, I was reminded of something I am curious about too,’ she replied.

“Say, Saintess,” Maera said aloud, “are the witches of the High Council and the Jaeger Matriarchs also considered demi-gods?”

Alicia’s face grimed. “Sadly, I am bound by an oath not to disclose this. The only information I am allowed to share—'cause we were specifically made aware of—is that the current Queen of the Witchdom is capable of defeating minor deities.”

“Walpurgis II., wasn’t it?”

Alicia nodded. “Yes. Her unique magic is… troublesome, even for a witch. But shouldn’t you know more about this than I do?”

‘Please don’t make her suspicious again,’ I pleaded.

“You are right, I should,” Maera replied nonchalantly. “But she was one of the few who didn’t like me, so I never actually met her. I never bothered to learn her name either. They are not ones to boast about their power or status.”

The Saintess let out a relieved breath. “Yes, they are indeed like that. Even the witches who stay in the capital are hard to understand in every way. Not believing in the divine, could you imagine?”

“I could not!” let Maera out a scandalized huff.

I rolled my eyes. Alicia’s, however, began to sparkle, seemingly delighted that some of her teaching had clearly reached Maera.

‘You’re a monster for giving her hope.’

‘Hehe, I know~.’

After a short and awkward silence, Alicia turned back around. “We should keep moving. I am not comfortable standing around in an area that is supposed to be filled with undead.”

I eyed the countless empty rooms and narrow passageways. “Any idea why they aren’t here?”

“I must admit that I cannot explain what changed in the dungeon. If I had to guess, I would suspect the recent earthquake followed by the mana-pulse. Maybe it caused a break in the deeper layers of the Crypt where the undead are gathering. I am not aware of any caves beneath the capital, though, but we should inform the Emperor once we’ve left. I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if those things got outside the Crypt.”

“Isn’t that why we have heroes in the capital?” I joked.

…

…

Again, silence.

“H-High Priestess Alicia?” I tried calling out to her.

“I—I was not informed that they were coming to my church. One of them was rather unpleasant during our first encounter. They talked about how a Saintess is always supposed to be in a hero’s party,” she said, disgust obvious in her tone.

“Irmgarde told me the hero was a waste of space,” remarked Maera.

Alicia chuckled. “Irmgarde never ceases to amuse me.”

“Oh, you know her?”

Alicia flashed a smile, “I like to think of us as friends. We are in the same book club.”

“Book club?” I echoed.

Maera looked surprised at my obvious knowledge gap. “A thing nobles tend to do,” she said, then added, “Also extremely popular among witches.”

“Oh, what ki—”

I stopped listening. I had had enough books for a few days. Tana had already made me cram through all those texts, and I had to admit more than once—rather begrudgingly—that it helped me quite a lot. As soon as she understood my level, she gave me the right books and even prepared materials for me to test myself. She was a good teacher, and a good friend.

I smiled inwardly. Friend—I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had been able to call someone that. Sure, I had a massive following… but none of them were truly my friends. There was always this one thing that stopped them from getting close to me—being a Matriarch, that was. But this time felt different. I was even getting close to Myr, her girlfriend. They had also invited me to their dorm in a few days, which made me rather excited.

Also, we wou—

My head snapped towards a shadow flickering at the edge of my vision. Then another. And another.

‘Maera.’

‘Yeah, I’ve noticed,’ she replied, still chatting happily with Alicia about a story.

‘You think they’ll attack us?’

Her answer came with slight hesitation. ‘No.’

Still, it was better to be safe than sorry. So I erected a wind barrier around us. Alicia paused for a moment, then continued walking. She clearly knew something was wrong, but had enough faith in us not to ask.

We descended deeper and deeper into the Crypt, and even I had to admit that the aura of this place had become suffocating. As Maera had predicted, they didn’t attack. Sure, by now they were swarming around us, slipping just out of my sight every time, but never attacking. I couldn’t get a proper look at them because of that. Just what were those things?

‘Trust me, you don’t want to know,’ commented Maera dryly. Which really wasn’t very reassuring, coming from her.

After the thirteenth floor, the layout began to change. The rooms grew larger, more opulent in design and offerings. The narrow pathways to the side chambers looked increasingly like intrigue hallways decorated with banners and statues dedicated to whomever they belonged to—deities, obviously.

Minor as they might be—for a demi-god anyway—they were probably still extremely powerful. Now that I thought of it, this place was older than Maera’s temple. Wasn’t it possible she had killed some of these deities in this place herself? Was that why we weren’t attacked? Did they remember her?

A queasy feeling spread through me. This place could be a memorial to what happened to those who stood. Even more worrying, the world outside had forgotten its origin. Were dungeons an entirely separate space?

As I kept pondering, we walked farther. Our pace gradually slowed as the darkness thickened due to the lack of lights so that Alicia eventually was forced to cast a light spell so that we could see. I wasn’t sure my wind barrier would protect us anymore. At the very least, it kept the smell out.

Maera still had her soul-link closed, so I couldn’t pry into her thoughts and feelings. For some reason, that made me wonder how many other things had already rubbed off on me. Besides the obvious ones, I also noticed the way I talked had changed. Admittedly, it could be a side effect from spending so much time with Tana. I really hoped it was the latter.

But there was also another possibility: I was talking appropriately to my age—or rather new age—again. Honestly, I wasn’t sure. The academy didn’t have much information about fae. Maybe I should ask Na-Na.

I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notice Alicia had stopped in front of a big wooden double door—or rather gate with how enormous it was.

“We’re here,” Alicia said quietly.

Maera stepped forwards without hesitation and pushed the path with easy. As she did, a wave of incoming wind crashed into my barrier. It wasn’t an attack, no—a warning.

I couldn’t tell if Maera sensed the same energy behind that narrow opening or simply chose to ignore it. Nonetheless, she pressed onwards.

And like a gush, the wind surged out of the library—a stream, trying to escape, sweeping me along with it. Breath by breath, I heaved against it, forcing my barrier ahead like a windbreaker. It pushed me back enough that I fell off of Maera and had to transform into my wolf-kin form to hold my ground. My eyes caught Alicia’s uncertain expression, who clearly didn’t anticipate this to happen—didn’t help my nerves, though. It felt as if the dungeon itself didn’t want us to enter.

With a final push, the doors swung inwards. The wind scattered—taking my barrier with it—and the library came into view. For a place this old, it wasn’t as impressive as the academy’s, but it was still beautiful and huge. The bookshelves were arranged in spirals, curving closer and closer together toward the center. The books looked old—even older than the books that were already considered antique in my day.

We all entered slowly, saying nothing whilst looking around. Eventually Maera turned to the Saintess.

“So, where is the information we’re looking for?”

Alicia scanned the room repeatedly before answering in a reluctant whisper. “I… I don’t know. The layout changed.”

“The layout changed? Does that happen often?” I asked puzzled.

“This is the first time since recorded history,” Alicia mumbled quietly.

Maera’s face twisted briefly into a grimace of utter rage before she inhaled deeply and looked at the shelves once more.

Guess we’re looking around then,” I said, giving Alicia what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

She only nodded and followed me as I stepped to one of the shelves. I pulled out a book and opened it.

Brrr, it’s freezing in here, I thought, shivering now that my barrier was gone… didn’t even know I could shiver.

Gently, I ran my fingers along the pages and noticed how smooth and soft they were.

“As if they were new,” I whispered.

“They’re protected by enchantments, so they don’t decay,” replied Alicia.

“Huh…”

The high priestess snickered. “Dungeons often use these kinds of measures to maintain stability. Instability often leads to dungeon breaks, which makes them vulnerable to destruction from outside forces.”

“You make it sound like dungeons communicate with one another and learn from mistakes.”

“Did you already forget what I said earlier about Quecklemheim? Dungeons manifest in many forms, and—as far as dungeonologists can agree upon—upper-ranked ones may have something like a collective mind or access to a shared record of past events.”

“Would they work outside the System?” I asked further.

Alicia hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “That enters the realm of the divine. It’s not for beings like us to be understood or touched.”

That was a rather unsatisfying conclusion…

I stole a few glances at Maera, but she seemed uninterested in our discussion. Her attention was fixed on a book, though I couldn’t read the title. There had to be something special about this library, this layout—something more valuable than what we came for. Or at least more than what Maera came here for.

Returning to my own book, I flipped a few pages ahead. The words resembled the language I had used back then.

“Of Goblins and Their Mating Habits,” I read at the heading of one page. Promptly, I snapped the book shut and shoved it back into place. That was something I definitely didn’t need to know.

Alicia was browsing too. She pulled a few books out, flipped through them, and put them back. Suddenly, she burst out laughing. Maera and I stared at her in confusion. She turned a page and laughed even louder—loud enough that every undead in the Crypt must have heard it.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“What does Death say to a zombie when it wants to pass to the other realm?” she grinned.

“Uh… no idea?”

“Sorry, no re-entry,” she said, breaking into laughter again.

We stood there until Maera blinked beside the Saintess just as she reached to turn another page. Maera yanked the book from her hand with visible exasperation—and incinerated it on the spot, leaving Alicia staring at a handful of frozen ash.

“Heey, I was reading that!” she complained.

“Uh-huh. And now you’re not,” Maera said slightly annoyed. “We’re not here to witness your terrible, terrible sense of humor.”

Alicia huffed, mildly offended, and moved on to another shelf. Maera did the same. My gaze wandered over one of the spines of the book series she had just read: Humor from the Shadowlands; Volume IV.

…maybe she should burn the other books to ashes too. I shook my head and resumed my own search.

Many books had no titles on their spines, so I had to open the first pages to find anything. I didn’t examine each one—there were far too many, easily hundreds of thousands—but moved along the spiral, pulling out the occasional volume.

“Shadows, Shadows, Shadows,” I read aloud. “The Love of the Stone Tree. Dwarves and Their Women. The True Weeping Willow…”

Then a title caught my eye. I flipped further. “The Art of Shadowcraft.”

Maybe I sh—

‘What are you doing?’ interrupted Maera my thought.

‘Hm?’ I asked, slightly confused.

‘Why are you standing there staring into nothing?’ she continued.

‘What?’ I looked at my han— wait, where did the book go? Didn’t I just hold one? ‘Um, sorry. Must’ve drifted off for a moment,’ I said eventually.

I could tell she wasn’t satisfied with my answer, but she didn’t press further. Was she worried—even in this state? A small smile slipped over my lips before I realized it, I was back searching for information about the System.

I moved deeper into the spiral until I reached the end where the last shelf arched down into a small pedestal holding a single book. My curiosity was immediately piqued. Why hadn’t Maera taken this one already? Surely it had to be important. Valuable. Meant for us. So why… this? Why leave it for me? The thought clouded my mind, thick and intoxicating.

I reached out—dazed, drawn in—fingers trembling just a little as they neared it. Just a bit closer and—

Alicia seized my wrist.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?” I protested.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she tossed the book in her hand towards the one on the pedestal. It never reached—the book turned gray midair, aged in an instant, and crumbled to dust before it touched anything.

“It is cursed,” she said brooding. “And we are not the first to fall victim to it.” She pointed at the floor.

“Dust piles?” The words left me before the truth hit—those… those had been people. My tail bristled. But how? Wasn’t this dungeon supposed to be locked off?

I looked at Alicia. “How is that even possible? You said only demi-gods can reach this far. You didn’t mention anyone dying here.”

Her expression tightened. “Because I do not know. Everything has deviated from what records describe. At first, I assumed these aberrations were tied to your curse, but this… It clearly indicates that there is another entry to the dungeon that no one is aware of—perhaps a rift?”

Alicia’s gaze drifted over the shelves, her expression tightening as she murmured—more to herself than to me. “This… this must be how the library sustains itself. An encapsulated space, accessible only under certain conditions. But what did we do differently? There must be a separate, hidden dungeon linked, intertwined with this one. Adventurers wander in, drawn by that accursed book. Their life force is drained from them, feeding the library, mending every fracture, every injury.”

Her breath trembled. “Perhaps this is how the Crypt actually sustained itself—kept alive by these special chambers. Might this be the reason for the undead to reappear so slowly?” She shook her head. “Yes… no… yes, that must be it.”

Her eyes widened, dread reflected in them. “By the divine, I must return at once. This is dangerous—far more dangerous than anything recorded.”

“Wait, was that the resistance I felt earlier? Because a path opened that shouldn’t normally exist?” I interjected. Another queasy feeling twisted in my stomach. “Did the doors close?”

Understanding flashed across Alicia’s face, and we both ran and—

I stopped dead and gulped. The gate was gone.

Panicked, my eyes searched for Maera. Fuck, where was she? Did we fall into a trap? Did our bond get severed? No—if that had happened, I’d be part of the System by now. But where is…

Then I saw her. Sitting on the floor, calmly reading a book about ancient gardening, unbothered by reality

“Ma— Asche!” I called, almost blurting her alias out in relief.

She looked up, smiled faintly, and walked towards me. With every step, my cheeks grew hotter, and my tail wagged despite myself. Her gaze was unwavering, almost predatory, ready to devour me. She came closer and closer, her face unreadable, staring at me with those intense eyes that were so easily to lose yourself in

Grr. She freaking did it on purpose.

Fine. Then I simpl—

She walked straight through me.

“H-Huh?” My mind blanked. I spun around, panic tightening in my throat. “M-Maera?”

But my words didn’t reach her. My gaze fell on Alicia who had been watching the entire thing, her face drained of color, eyes wide with genuine fear.

‘M-Maera?’ I whispered through our bond.

‘Oh? Are you back already?’ she asked, without a trace of concern in her voice.

‘…can’t you see me?’

That finally got her attention. She looked around, frowning faintly. It took only a few breaths before she stood right in front of me again—yet her eyes passed straight through me.

“Interesting,” she murmured aloud. “I can’t see you, but you are definitely here.”

‘Can you bring us back? Or come to us?’ I pleaded, fully aware of how desperate I sounded. It left me feeling insignificant.

Swept her hand through my torso a few times. “Nope! You’re in a different realm. Can’t reach you there. I’m surprised the bond didn’t break, though. Fascinating.”

‘Can you please not think about this like some sort of experiment?!’ yelled, the fear cracking even my inner voice.

But this reaction only made her… smile. That awful, delighted smile of curiosity.

“Now this is something I did not expect. The bond weakened enough that your true age bleeds through. You’re acting more like a young fae now. This alone would make for a remarkable experiment right now, but—fine—I’ll look for a way to bring you back.”

My heart broke. I knew that tone, this reaction. I practiced it myself in the mirror when I was still engaged. She lied.

Maera lied—and all it took was for the bonk to weaken to lose her interest in me.

Was this something the System anticipated? It had to be. It used me. They always use me.

I… I couldn’t do this anymore. I was a coward.

“Who are you… who am I to you?” I cried out my pain, though I knew my voice would never reach her.

A hand rested gently on my shoulder. “A-Aska?”

The Saintess’ voice was soft, trembling with concern. Her eyes held no detachment—only worry and care. Even with all her zeal she was simply kind to me.

Suddenly, a warmth spread through me. Alicia was casting a spell—gentle, cleansing, and calming my mind.

“Are you feeling a little better?” she asked, her voice like a summer’s breeze.

“I— I don’t know if I’m being honest,” the words slowly leaving my lips.

She brushed a strand of hair behind my ear—hesitant, yet reverent, as if she knew I needed this right now.

“The bond between you two must run deep. And this place…” Her expression darkened. “It is steeped in miasma. I am sorry. This is my failing—I should have recognized earlier how it gnawed at your thoughts, twisted your insecurities, and ate on your life-force. Miasma creates illusions forged from half-truths. It preys on the cracks already within us,”/she explained, gently stroking my hair to keep me calm.

“Tell me, Saintess—no, Alicia…” My voice wavered. “Did she… did Maera seem worried about me?”

I had to know the truth.

Alicia’s expression softened—a sad, compassionate smile. The one a parent would give a kid, knowing they would never return from war.

“I found myself smiling back, if only to return a fraction of her warmth. Yet I was dreadfully aware of the answer her silence carried.

—such an honest lie.

“Caw.”

We both startled, looking up.

“Caw, caw,” joined more.

On the shelves were… ravens?

“You’re seeing this too, right?” I asked, if only to be on the safe side

Alicia nodded, “I see them too. Those are definitely ravens—inside a dungeon.”

More emerged from the shadows, forming some kind of line.

“I have the hunch we’re supposed to follow them,” I voiced my concern.

Rising first, Alicia helped me to my feet as well. We met each other’s eyes briefly, sharing a look of conviction, and decided to follow the ravens—wherever they might lead.

The first thing I noticed was that the layout of the room had changed once again. The shelves had become walls, now tangled together like thickets, winding ever more intricately and towering above us. The ravens seemed to merge with them—and with the darkness itself—which not even Alicia’s light magic could illuminate anymore.

All we could still hear was the rustling of their feathers. What we saw, however, were their sharp, obsidian-glinting beaks and red eyes, judging us like bloody rubies.

Then their cawing changed—into accusations, into declarations of guilt, sins, and inactions we had committed. Things they shouldn’t have known—couldn’t have known.

Suddenly, everything went dark. All my thoughts, emotions, and senses stopped. Everything vanished—into the void, into the abyss.

Until—

Blinding light seared my eyes, and a voice thundered:

“Let the judgment begin.”