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Arc 4: To Move Forward || Prologue - A Dream of Violets

“I have lived a good life…”

She was a bright woman, a person that had achieved a lot in her life. The violet eyes she possessed stared at the ceiling, as it looked down upon what could be called her final resting place. A frail body. Greying hair. A voice hoarse and dying. Those were the features that she had currently, the very definition of an elderly person.

The beeping of the heart monitor beside her, the quiet weeping of her descendants, one of them holding onto her hand for one final time. It was quite clear that this was her time to go.

Truly, she had lived a good life. She had no particular regrets, except…

“Oh how I feel saddened…”

That girl, to whom she cared for when she was young, to whom she lost and grieved for even decades after her fall. Kei Etsuko was that person. A girl who lived a sad life, lonesome in despair, yet she tried to move forward nonetheless. She was innocent, both of them knew that, but she blamed herself for all the things that happened to her.

She regretted her choice of leaving too early. She regretted her failure, of not being able to save her in time. She regretted not being able to say the words that would’ve helped her heal. And lastly, she regretted her inability to understand what caused her pain, despite being her closest friend.

“Such regrets…”

The elderly voice, who belonged to someone named Violet Hawthorne, would cough out after speaking those words. She was the first and only friend of Kei Etsuko, a Japanese girl who she met during her years as an exchange student from Britain.

“I…wonder…”

What could’ve her life have been like, if she had brought her friend into her family, knowing that she had suffered? How bad of a friend was she to be ignorant of Etsuko’s condition? How bad of a pair of eyes did she have to not be able to see the loneliness and passiveness that her belated friend lived through?

So many questions, yet there was little that she could answer.

She didn't achieve anything much in her life, knowing that she couldn't even save a life. It was funny how she couldn't move on from this, how she couldn't find a reason to move forward like she did, in spite of her failing in the end.

She was stronger than her for persevering that long, despite the darkness that existed in her life. And she would mourn for her. Despite accepting that she was gone, she would still do so.

Truly, what would happen, once she passes on?

That was a question almost anyone would have been familiar with. A question that everyone would eventually ask at least once in their lives. A question that some of the greatest had tackled ever since the first humans gained sapience. Every culture and every religion, both dead and alive, had claimed to give an answer to this question.

Truly, it was that important. To the point that one could be defined by how they viewed such a subject.

Who she was, Violet Hawthorne, would be counted as a religious person, believing in a singular supreme God, who ruled over creation and the heavens above.

She believed in such things, of Heaven and Hell. Of the spiritual battle between good and evil. Of angels and demons.

Of course, she was moderate about it. She was raised to be such and believed in it thoroughly, but she never thought much about it until now.

Would she go to Heaven, or would she go to Hell?

Even throughout the years of her life, she couldn't exactly find an answer. No one did. Only God knows of the truth that would be her fate upon death.

“Etsuko…”

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She could feel her life fleeting now, despite clinging on for so long. Her final breaths shall be used as a last call of hope, a prayer if you will, towards that one person she cared for as a friend when she was young.

With a gentle final smile, closing her eyes, she would utter her last words.

“I just hope that in our next life, we will be together again…”

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The warmth of the morning sun seeped into the closed curtains of a rather luxurious bedroom. To be more precise, it was a dormitory. Two beds were present in this very room, yet only one person was present inside.

She heard the chirping and singing of the birds outside, the peaceful and relaxing air felt throughout her fair skin, and the beginning of morning activities was expected as well.

And so, she awoke. The Second Princess of Albion propped herself up, her hair messy and in need of dire maintenance.

She could feel her grogginess overwhelming her, but it was a good sleep in spite of that. A full eight hours, much needed for a future Pathfinder.

“Good morning…”

She said, turning towards the bed beside her, which was less decorated and…

“...right.”

Empty. Something that had been a common occurrence ever since that fateful day. Her friend had suffered from something she couldn't understand, and was now acting unlike the Marilyn she knew before, no longer so cheerful and more aloof towards the people around her. Her bed being empty and waking up very early was another sign of her avoidance towards them, to the point that even Vincent was concerned about her behaviour.

It had exactly been one year since that particular incident that she saw at the airport, of that rift opening up and bursting with overwhelming energy. Many organisations that she couldn't exactly care for right now had been investigating it, yet so far no answers had been found.

None that she would be aware of, anyway. She was a princess for sure, but she was no monarch or exceptional VIP, national and global secrets were still off-limits for her person.

But nonetheless…

“That…dream…again.”

She looked at her right hand. She swore that she could feel someone holding it in her sleep. Truthfully that would've been creepy, and a warrant for reprimanding of whoever had done so without her consent. But she knew that it was somewhat of a phantom feeling, rather than something truly tangible.

“Why…?”

She felt familiarity, as if she were that person. As if she had known her, somehow. It was extremely vivid, like a memory buried deep within her very soul.

At first she paid no heed to it, but now it was rather disturbing…

“Urgh…”

That might’ve been a harsh term to use, but in any case…

“I should just go ahead and…prepare for the day.”

The princess got out of her bed, and opted to think about today's plan of action. She and her friends were now in the middle of their third year in the Royal Academy, and because of their talents, they could apply to become Novice Pathfinders.

Today could be considered as the perfect day to pick their actual first quest, not whatever impromptu trip they’ve been having, clearing the Sanctioned Veil again and again to get rewards. Fortunately that place shifted in its geography and sets of enemies every few months, so it wasn't a bore. But nonetheless, this main event would be something they’ve all been preparing for one way or another.

Meaning—

“...”

She stopped in her trek towards the bathroom, for she saw a vase of flowers she knew all too well. It was something that was brought in and wasn't a part of this dorm originally, a decoration that Marilyn bought before that incident occurred, reason being that she was reminded of someone she knew before she got to the Royal Academy.

It was a vase of violets, a bunch of them, that was what. Well taken care of by Marilyn in the recent past, and now by her alone.

Cecilia turned her head around to face away from the flower vase, her expression rather solemn, her eyes gazing downwards, expression softened. Somehow, she felt saddened by it, but she couldn't understand why.

“Marilyn…”

She muttered out the name of her closest friend in this school, in a sombre tone that could best be described as a sort of plea, or prayer. Not for herself, but for the emerald and silver-eyed girl that she knew well in this academy.

“I hope that somehow, you can persevere.”

She couldn't understand why her friend had a shift in her personality, nor why she was so aggressive in her training, so reckless with herself. But she was her friend, therefore she would keep supporting her, however she could.

Perhaps sometime later, she could ask for the reason behind this change, and share the burden of grief with her.