Chapter 49 - Epilogue: A Talk Under The Grace Of The Moon

The night that followed his victory against the goblins and the climb of the colossal tree, Beatrice sat in her quarters as she always did, holding a faux smile that failed to hide the somber look in her nebulous eyes.

Looking down upon the spherical object sat on the table, she caressed it as if it were someone she held dear. The unaging sage fit right into her gloomy chambers, which held nothing of light or joy, only illuminated by the moonlight that had peeked through the curtains, split by the many branches of the ancient tree.

"Tell me, Mer, what do you think of our new companion? He is frail of heart as of now, but that will change with the tides of his inevitable destiny. I can see it behind the mirrors to his soul...More than even Sora or Sirius, that boy holds deep within him a boundless arrogance, one such that comes without a facade."

Her voice carried with it a feminine eloquence, running her supple, pale digits across the smooth surface of the foggy orb.

In response to her softly spoken question, the orb blinked a few times with a gentle illumination, manifesting a slightly wider smile from the woman.

"In all of my years in this world, amassing such wisdom that even the grandest libraries can't hold a candle to...Even I can't predict what innate ability will sprout from one. Though, I saw a glimpse of it in his eyes as he so brashly yelled at me," Beatrice smiled a bit, twiddling strands of her platinum locks around her slender finger as she spoke to the orb.

"Oh, wake up already, would you?"

Beatrice let out a small breath before flicking the solid orb, causing the blinking light to take on a constant radiance.

"--Sheesh, can't a guy get some rest?"

A masculine voice echoed from the depths of the mysterious orb, his words carried by a drowsy yawn, garnering a smile from the woman.

"You and I both know you don't need to sleep."

Beatrice rested her cheek against the palm of her hand as she spoke, keeping her somber, opalescent gaze on the sentient sphere.

"Well, when you have an infinite amount of time to do absolutely nothing, sleep is pretty much your only ticket away from madness. I suppose we both share that feeling, no?"

"If you truly believe I've been sitting here doing nothing then I think I'd have every right to begin holding a grudge against you, Mer."

"Right, right."

Listening to the playful voice that resonated from the glowing orb, Beatrice chuckled to herself quietly, looking up briefly to gaze at the painting that spanned across the leftmost wall.

A room of kings, holding a scarlet carpet that met with a gilded throne befit for that of royal blood. Prominently shown in this painting of a throne room was a silver-haired woman, wearing the same obsidian dress with silver frills as the one who looked upon the art. If only for a moment, looking upon the mirror to a past moment conjured a nostalgic look in her eyes, glimmering slightly with a reminiscence.

"About the new kid…"

Mer suddenly spoke up, snatching the sage's attention from the painting as she diligently hid the mellowed look from her eyes.

"Ren Nakamura."

"Yeah, him. From the sound of it, that kid experienced something truly awful, didn't he? Being deceived and beaten like that right when being transported? Sheesh, I'd be surprised if the kid doesn't have trust issues already."

"Mhm."

Her vacant answer left the room silent for a moment before Mer's voice kicked up again.

"Bea, tell me something…"

"What is it?"

"You didn't plan for this to all happen, did you?"

"--"

Beatrice's eyelashes flicked at the question, starting to fiddle with her hair once more. The glow from the talking orb intensified at her silence.

"...I know you're a schemer, but Bea...That's too much. What that boy went through, that type of stuff really sticks to a person. You made an oath that these Outlanders wouldn't be used as pawns, they're not toys, Bea."

"I know that! You have a dozen millennia left to live before you can lecture me!"

As her voice raised unnaturally, the wind hissed, tugging at the curtains, only settling once she took a deep, calming breath into her lungs.

"--I did it."

"You did what?"

Mer quickly responded to her statement with a hesitant question, already knowing the answer but seeking to hear it from her own two lips.

"If we're truly to do away with that maddened king, we mustn't waste any opportunities. Allowing the boy to undergo such trauma was a risk I had to be willing to take. If he caved to the experience, then that would be one thing, but it granted him resolve."

"Listen to yourself, Bea! A risk you were willing to take? Are you that blind to the feelings of people?"

"Mel, even you should understand why I did it. As fickle as innate abilities may be, there are ways to somewhat determine how they manifest. If that boy nurtures that lust for strength, a hatred for the argonauts, fueled by his own regret...What will awaken within him will be just what we need."

Finishing her explanation, the woman of ethereal beauty snapped her fingers, conjuring into existence a porcelain tea kettle along with a cup. Mel fell silent as he watched her fill her cup with elegant grace, lifting it to her soft, pink lips and taking in a long sip.

"--I believe it is time to call it a night."

"--"

No response came from the voice within the sphere as Beatrice looked at it with a stoic expression. The light diminished within the orb as Beatrice gently placed it on a cushion beside her bed, laying herself down as she watched the curtains flutter above her head.

The feeling of tiredness inevitable with humans was vacant in her, as all she could do was lie there still, only mimicking the actions of a person.

No matter the cost, I will save Mastorn. If it costs me my life, I will pay that price without argument. If it costs the lives of my companions, I will swallow my emotions.

Mastorn is as my child, watching it as it came into conception, growing from but a single man's aspirations into the titan of hope it is now for humanity.

But my child has been led astray but the false influences of that man, and for that, he must be condemned. That day will come soon and when it does, I will once again watch over you.

Laying in his bed, staring sleeplessly at the wooden ceiling as he visualized the many symbols the grooves formed, Ren's tireless mind wandered off to corners he seldom wanted to visit.

In all of the madness that transpired, his thoughts were dragged away from the homesickness he found himself in. It was all so different, every inch of this room, this world, it was nothing like the home he knew for his eighteen years of life.

It became maddening in this moment of fragility how much he missed it all.

--Mom, Dad...Even that stupid cat, Gira...I couldn't even say goodbye. Just once more, to see you all again, to properly part ways, to apologize for such a bad son I was...I would pay anything.

Burying his face against the pillow, even the scent of it became jarring in comparison to the smell that attached itself to his own pillowcases. The softness of the bedcovers, the warmth of the blanket, he felt as if he had been exiled across the universe.

As I slept that night, I could feel my fingers interlocking with another person's own. I knew this wasn't something happening outside of my dreams or within them, but it existed in some fashion. The slender fingers were unmistakably belonging to a woman, her hand granting no warmth to my skin but a warmth to my heart as I slept in comfort from this enigmatic display of comfort.

It's hard to say how I knew this, but I am certain this unknown girl wasn't Iris or anyone else I knew by name for that matter--yet her presence felt so familiar.