After I managed to calm down, as much as I could, the priest gave me some space for myself and clean clothes to change into. I quickly washed my body before putting them on. Then, moving on to the church's kitchen, he prepared some tea, and we sat face to face at a small tripod table.

I stared at the freshly brewed tea, letting the cup's warmth seep into my hands, desperately seeking whatever little peace it could bring me.

I brought the cup to my lips; despite the pleasing scent of herbs, my mood was not improving. Then, letting its steam warm up my face, I finally took a sip.

Too hot. I burned my tongue, and my throat right afterward.

I now hated that tea.

"Don't rush," the priest cautioned with a fond smile.

"I don't want it anymore," I said, pushing the cup away, putting it back on the little table.

He chuckled. "Giving up already?"

"The bastard burnt me," I coldly replied. "And I'm not here for that."

"You rush too much, little one. Take another sip, and calm yourself."

"I am calm."

"One that is calm does not shake their leg," he pointed out.

I froze my movements as soon as my eyes fell upon my leg, and I sighed at the realization. Each time I died, my body seemed to act against my will, and it was becoming worse with each death.

He chuckled again before returning to his tea, closing his eyes to better enjoy the taste. I forced myself to follow his advice, and went for another sip. This one was manageable.

"Priest..." I then began.

Concluding his sip, he moved the cup away from his lips, and slowly opened his eyes. "Hm..."

"My mother..."

He sighed, his smile turning wistful as he set his cup down. "She's always been like this, wasn't she? Even now, all the lights are upon her, as they always have been. One could even dare say she was histrionic."

"A charming and peculiar woman, without a doubt," I casually remarked. "I want to know, priest..."

He sighed, going silent and taking another little sip from his cup before addressing me once again. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Why is she in the pages of my codex?"

"Some secrets may be better left untold," he advised.

"I'M TIRED OF SECRETS!" I snapped, rising from my seat so abruptly that my chair toppled backward, accompanied by the sound of it clattering to the ground, which reverberated through the entire room.

He, to my surprise, remained calm. "Sit back."

"You're going to answer my questions."

He nodded. "I'll do what I can."

I took a deep breath and calmed my nerves. Then, slowly, I righted my chair and sat back down. "My mother..."

"I don't know why she's in your book," he started. "I may have fewer answers than you expect."

"Anything can help. I have no clue what she was. You knew her, didn't you? Do you know anything about who she was when she was alive?" I asked.

He slightly leaned back. "Oh, yes. I can answer that..."

I leaned forward, my eyes widened at that answer. Finally, I could have something. "The... Silver Witch..."

The priest's lips curled into a faint smile.

"You know!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," he nodded. "I know."

"Tell me!" I urged. "Who was she?!"

"Sit back."

"Ah..." I had gotten so intrigued that I rose from my seat without even realizing it. "Okay... I'm listening," I then said, settling back comfortably into the chair, sipping some tea hoping to steady my nerves once more.

"I suppose it wouldn't be wrong to consider your mother... simply the strongest. The most powerful and incredible libromagus the world has ever known."

"Libromagus?"

"I imagine you want to hear from the start," he murmured, earning my nod. "You, more than anyone, should know; in this world, strength... power is what matters most. And in that city, where she was from, the cultivation of it was the absolute priority; creating a group of elite libromancers that could top anyone and anything in this world. They were called libromagus; mages, warriors, enchanters of any kind, destined for greatness."

I took another sip, and he mirrored me before continuing.

"But even among them," he sighed, "even among the elites, she was just... out of everyone's reach."

"Continue," I said, my voice low, as he paused once again.

"If you wish to know the details of her past, then I must disappoint you; I am not aware of her childhood. Perhaps, she was always deemed a problematic one. However, I can say that from a very young age, she was considered special; one that deserved close attention. And, I suppose, she too had realized that," he said, looking deeply into my eyes. "Your mother followed no rules, no schemes. She was no ordinary creature. Though she appeared to be a simple woman, she was extraordinarily intricate in every way. No one could tell what she was thinking, what her goal was; what script was she following, and what the next move entailed. And, it would seem, not even the Deities could keep up with her."

"What... do you mean?" I stammered, almost afraid of asking.

He smiled, staring at his empty cup, carefully refilling it. "It would appear your mother understood the secrets of the books, along with the complete foundations of all magical principles. She had no bounds, no restrictions, and her vision extended far beyond that of any human. But... she wanted none of that."

"She wanted none of that?"

He slowly nodded. "Your mother had no interest in such things. She was not interested in power. She had no attachment to her book, nor to the potential it offered. There was only one thing in this world she truly cared about," he murmured, lifting his eyes to meet mine. "Do you know what that was, Argenta?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

My lips parted as I thought of the answer, and I almost stammered saying it. "The... purple lady from her story?"

He laughed. "That's how you know her?"

"I... think so?"

His smile slowly faded as his eyes returned to the tea. "But you are correct... She was her absolute priority. She only cared about her. But... that city was not accommodating to such a request. So, in the end, they tried to take her away."

"The bridge..." I murmured as the memory of her story resurfaced.

"The Abyss..." he corrected.

"And she survived the fall," I continued, somehow managing to piece it all together.

He shook his head. "She did much more than that."

"What do you mean?"

"She used her knowledge, and made use of her magic."

"That... doesn't tell me much," I confessed, almost chuckling. "I know nothing about her magic. I never even saw her cast a spell."

He smiled, wetting his lips before continuing. "What do you think her magic was, little one?"

I blinked. "Huh... am I supposed to know the answer?"

"Your mother didn't call herself a mage. Nor did she consider herself a warrior or an enchanter. She called herself a witch, because that's how they deemed her, but more than that, she liked to consider herself something else. Do you know what that was?"

I shook my head.

"A soul weaver," he replied, his voice sounding almost reverent.

"A soul... weaver," I murmured.

"Your mother eluded Death... She didn't share the details with me; she was a secretive one... So, I am not aware of the dynamics, but whatever happened under that bridge... changed her forever. She was not afraid of the Abyss, and after falling into its dark depths, like a phoenix, she forced her lover to be reborn from the ashes."

"Hm..."

"I believe... she's following you right now, isn't she?"

I tilted my head, confused. "She?"

"Bianca."

My eyes widened, my blood ran cold, and an icy chill shot down my spine. I hadn't understood. I hadn't understood at all. "Y-you mean... that thing... t-that demon is... was her lover?!"

My voice trembled as I slowly turned to look at it... She was right there, this horrid creature, this monster was... my mother's lover?!

"Could you summon her, Argenta?" the priest asked.

"Huh?! Y-you mean... a-are you sure?" I stammered.

"Hm, is there something wrong?" he commented, seemingly confused by my reaction.

If there was something wrong?! Everything was wrong! I couldn't even find the words to describe it!

"W-well..." I continued. "O-okay... Bianca."

And so, the demon behind me shifted, its form grew more defined, and now even the priest could see... her.

He rose from his seat and approached her with a smile, slowly bowing as he took the demon's claws in his hand, gently pressing his lips against them. "It's good to see you again, Bianca," he murmured.

The demon emitted a low growl in response.

Just what was I witnessing...?

However, after the two minutes, the demon reverted to its original form, and he couldn't see her again.

"Hm? You sent her away?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No, the spell only lasts two minutes."

"Hm..." he mumbled, returning to his seat to rejoin our conversation. "It appears you don't have full control over her yet. You can only sustain her form through mana, but she is not made of mana. You must've realized by now; she's a soul, and only a soul weaver can have full control over a soul."

"Huh..." I just blinked, unsure of what to answer.

The priest looked immersed in thought for a moment. "Argenta... may I know what your mother wrote to you in that letter?"

"Ah, sure," I hastily retrieved the letter, partially stained with blood from the act I'd committed in front of her tombstone, and handed it to him.

"To go where everything began..." the priest murmured as he read it. Then, he took a deep breath. "It seems your mother has something in store for you,"

"Hmm-hm..." I nodded with a sigh. "Where is that? Where everything began..."

"The Forgotten City," he softly replied. "That is far, far away from here."

I groaned. "Great... Of course she had to make me go through more misery to get some answers!" I lamented, slumping in my chair.

"Argenta," the priest called, drawing my attention back. "You said she appeared in your book, right?"

"Hm? Yeah... What about it?" I replied.

"Do not summon her until you're one hundred percent certain of your decision. Go there, see it for yourself, draw your conclusions, and then... act according to your own free will."

I shifted in my chair, settling in more comfortably. "Do you know what happens if I pronounce the spell?"

He shook his head. "I have no clue, but if I have to guess... it has to do with her magic," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully before his eyes widened. "Argenta, do you know... what your magic is?"

Now I was the one chuckling. "Haha, no," I replied, shrugging. "I really have no idea. I barely have spells, and they're nonsense."

"Hmm..."

"Priest... you seem to know both of them well..." I commented, thinking back about it. "How did you meet them?"

"I also belonged to that city. Though our situations were much different, your mother... saved my life, and I've been indebted to her ever since. I knew Bianca, too; you could say we were good acquaintances. I'm just ashamed I couldn't do more for her," he admitted, his voice low, his eyes filled with a sadness I couldn't quite decipher. "Your mother, however... she never gave up on her. Death... was nothing to her..."

"There's still... something off, however..." I murmured, partially trembling. "My mother survived that fall... and, from the way you talk about it... she survived much more..."

The priest pressed his lips together.

While that seemed to be the extent of what he could offer me regarding my mother's past, after hearing such a story, there was still a doubt he could shed light on. Hypothetically, if my mother was able to do all that, she must've had an ability similar to mine which allowed her to resurrect... That would explain how she 'survived' the fall, theoretically. But then...

"Priest, I think it's time for you to tell me... How did my mother die?"

He sighed, avoiding my question.

"Priest..." I pressed. "If my mother was truly able to control life and death like that... If she was that strong... Then who, or what, killed her?"

He continued to offer silence.

"She was young..." I continued. "She was strong. She was healthy. There was nothing amiss with her... But, from what I understand... she had enemies. She had enemies because she was a witch... And she was a witch because she went against the city's rules. I'm sure I'll understand more once I get to the place she asked me to, but so far... that's all, isn't it?"

Still no answer.

"I want to know the truth, priest. Tell me. What happened to her, to her body, that was so traumatic I couldn't see her?"

"There's no need for you to know."

"I want to. Especially now that I know all of this. Now that I know she was so powerful to turn her... lover into that. Now that I know she survived the Abyss and so much more... Just what happened to her? How did she die, and why?"

He shook his head. "You don't."

"Tell me, priest."

"Believe me, little one..."

"Priest!" I shouted at him.

He flinched. "She..." he sighed, wearily. "She... she killed herself, Argenta."

Of all the answers and possibilities that crossed my mind... that was nowhere to be found.

"W-... Huh? D-do you mean she... she...?! W-what...?" I could barely make any sense, while the whole world tilted as if I were standing in a little boat that had just crashed into an iceberg.

He just stood silent, unable to meet my eyes.

"T-that can't be true... You're lying..."

"She came to me some days before, to confess... "

"You're lying..."

"She told me to look after you, were something to ever happen. I've tried my best to honor that promise, but even I struggle with those memories," he murmured, his hand hesitating before it reached for my hair, softly brushing my cheek. "You're just like her... a spitting image. It's hard to look into your eyes without seeing her. I couldn't bring myself to... Despite this, I've tried, and I'm still trying my best to fulfill her request..."

"You're lying..." I shook my head. "You're lying. You're lying. You're lying!" I shot to my feet, and the chair greeted the floor once again with a crash. "She would never do something like that! She had no reason to! She had me! She loved me! She would never abandon me! She would never abandon her daughter!"

"Argenta..."

"YOU'RE LYING!"

I ran away. Away from that liar. Away from that charlatan. Away from everyone and everything.

It was a lie. It couldn't be the truth. It could only be a lie. It had to be a lie. It had to be a lie...

It had.

To be.

A lie.

My mother... My joy, my teacher. The one and only I always truly cherished. The one who always smiled. The one who always protected me. The one who gave me a place in this ugly and nasty world. The one who would turn this very world upside down just for my own well-being. The one who gave me everything and never asked for anything in return. The rock in which I could refuge. My ultimate goal...

... Suicidal?

- - - - - - -

She ran... and I could do nothing but look at her disappear.

I've sinned... And I did it willingly, both for her sake, and myself. However, the weight of it now seems... too much to bear.

I sighed; the tea had gone cold as well. "Is this truly how you wished the script to unfold, Milady? Or am I just fooling myself now...?"