283. Jury’s Memories

283. Jury’s Memories

A metaphorical locked door appeared before Jury.

It silently screamed “Please open me!”

It was a relatively normal walnut door with a bitter yet sweet odor that could be smelt from several meters away.

Jury had suddenly found herself standing in a barren hallway. Ahead was this door and when she turned back, she found nothing but an endless corridor behind.

She took several steps back, trying to acclimatize herself to the strange world. Those steps taken did not distance her from the door. Rather, they seemed to draw her nearer.

The walls rose higher than the eye could see. A fragrant light shone from above. It was ethereal, carrying dream-like qualities. It confirmed that she was, for the nth time, taken aboard for a whimsical ride in her mind.

Jury dreamed like no other. Her dreams were violently visceral. Vivid, and she was always lucid within them, just without the control that usual accompanied such dreams. In a way, her dreams were always a lucid nightmare due to this, but she adored them, because they always did tend to reflect her desires.

Her imagination was powerful, honed after years of nothing but living in her lonely Black Forest. So it came as a shock to her when she found herself in this place all of a sudden.

This isn’t the Eternal Library. A doorway to what? My mind? My past?”

The latter seemed likely. Jury remained hung on the thought, expecting the input of a familiar, monotone companion. But in here, she was reminded of her loneliness as seconds of silents elapsed, feeling like hours to her.

Nav is also going through something. Everyone is.

Jury wasn’t someone who backed off easily. She was headstrong, steadfast, and conducted herself with a smile. But it was different here. A part of her dreaded finding out who or what she was, but at the same time...

I want to know what’s in there. I have to know. It’s not like I can run away from here.

Jury tested walking backwards again, only to find that the door had inched closer after blinking. A sudden thought invaded her mind as she took a step forward, reading out the name written in a language she should not have been able to decipher.

‘Elysia’. Who or what did I represent in the story of the Black Forest? What happened to me for the last 14 years prior? I have to know why the White Wing looked so angry. Did I do something wrong?

Her hand grasped onto the round door handle, and she stared into her distorted reflection along its silver coating.Nêww chapters will be fully updated at novelhall.com

Frost. I hope you’re also doing ok wherever you are. I’m sure... you’re also thinking the same thing about us. Mm.

“My name is Jury.” She affirmed.

And with a single twist, she barged into the door and stepped into a world of darkness.

Then, there was light.

* * *

In a magical garden found within the ruins of an industrial complex, a little girl with tiny wings reached out towards a woman with pale hair and golden eyes, and a tall man with black hair and red eyes.

The woman was unmistakably the White Wing. Gabriella. And the man was...

Jury, seeing through the eyes of the little girl, could not remember this person’s name. It was Frost of course. Anyone could tell just from the face alone. What Jury didn’t know what this version of Frost’s name.

Suddenly, Jury cutely pouted.

“My name is... my name is...!”

“She doesn’t have a name?” Frost wondered, speaking to no one but himself. “... right. You’re not here anymore, huh. Hey. Are you ok?” He leveled himself with the tiny Jury’s height.

He wielded an aura of superiority, but he cut through it with his overly friendly conduct.

“The fire didn’t touch you or anything, did it?” He added as the little Jury shook her head, saying ‘no’. Or so she thought. As it turned out, the little Jury didn’t know many words at all.

Just like herself inside of the Black Forest. Looking around, she saw the white forest Frost had saved her in a previous memory burn to cinders. Only the blackened trees remained in this magical, luscious garden.

“Still hearing Lailah’s voice again? Or are you mentally ill after spending your ‘upbringing’ this city? Children of the City tend to become insane from your parts.” Gabriella jabbed, joining Frost as she crouched, squinting at Jury.

The little Jury suddenly took cover behind Frost’s shoulder, shyly peeking at the White Wing.

“A bit of both. Can’t say you’re any better. And don’t scare her! Don’t bring your murderous intent down here.”

“It’s... Your new home. I’m sorry. You won’t be able to see this place again.” Frost found it difficult to speak afterwards. After the rampage of the Faux Angel, Frost had burnt down the forest she was born in.

An entire section of this paradise was left as a charred, black forest of dead trees. The unrecovered bodies of the many Angels were left behind. The scenery reminded her of the Black Forest, but not enough to link it with the concept of the Hung Juries.

The Innocent on the otherhand were easier to draw connections with.

That being said, the world faded to black again, and when she came to she found herself within another corridor with a closed door ahead. This time, the door had pictures. Pictures of what she could only describe as her happiest moments.

I don’t recognize anyone except for the people I’ve seen in the present. The White Wing. Frost. The Archivist... and who... is this person?

Jury was intrigued by the picture of a woman with golden eyes and short, blue hair.

The name written in red underneath the polaroid was ‘Lailah’, and the image depicted them bearing a gargantuan, fiery blade.

* * *

Jury remembered the sadness in those moments. She lost many loved ones to the beast that terrorized her home. Frost was compassionate enough to understand her misery, and she recalled many nights spent living with Frost to try to gain her bearings in this world she once called home.

But her upbringing did not solely revolve around Frost. In fact, Frost was rarely ever in the picture from what she could remember. They were two worlds apart, brought together by circumstances and a shared dream to save their dying world.

She was suspended in darkness. And from within, she heard a feminine voice speak to her.

“If there’s one thing you shouldn’t touch, it’s the light. It has wish-granting properties, for simplicity’s sake. For Angels, it can fundamentally change the world as we know it. The world, and ourselves.”

“What does it look like!?” Jury asked with enthusiasm.

“Your sincerest desire. We originate from that same light. Everything does. Thus, we must never taint it.” The feminine voice answered.

“Hypothetically speaking, what would happen if it did get tainted!? Or if we let a Faux Angel get to it!?” Jury cried.

“I’d rather not try to think of how much of an existential crisis that would devolve into. Everything that has the smallest, most insignificant semblance of life would fall victim to it. That’s the nature of it.”

... this person is the Arbiter, isn’t it? She doesn’t sound like the White Wing at all.

“So why are we given so much freedom if that’s the case?” Jury asked a sensible question.

“Freedom? No one is given as much freedom as you. It’s what he wishes, and I will respect it. That’s why I am warning you, Elysia, to maintain your distance with him. To stay away from the gardens beneath. To resist the urge of taking hold of GEN-00.”

“Angels can’t be with humans, right?” Jury did not seem to understand what was so special about Frost.

In her eyes, Frost was just a regular human.

“Angels can’t indulge because we of all things would never know when to stop. Like you and food. There used to be more like us before they lost their wings and became those creatures we call Demons, indulging in their vices.”

Suddenly, she felt someone place a hand onto her cheek. She couldn’t see who, but this warmth was familiar to her.

Demons... were in this world too.

Then, the woman sincerely whispered.

“Elysia. I would hate to put you down. You’re my personal trumpet. A gift. To see at least one Angel able to spread their wings like you gives me hope that we may be able to restore this world.”

“Only the best!” Elysia laughed.

“Precisely. I enjoy that energy. Therefore, I’d hate for you to become so miserable. A one tailed Angel can only do so much. But you’re incredibly capable. Please... no matter what happens, heed my words:”

An Angel with seven tails leaned forward into the light and pulled Jury into a pleasant embrace. Her pale garbs were soaked in blood, whereas Jury’s were pristine. Her warm breath fell upon her ears as the Arbiter then whispered her more sincere words of caution:

“You must not fall for its temptation.”

... what was my relationship with her? We seem so close. I wonder if I was like this with everyone. ‘Elysia’ is a name the White Wing used to love. Now, she despises it.

Jury didn’t know what to think. But she could already tell that something went terribly wrong.

I did the deed, didn’t I?