Of all the things in the world, the Princess chose to become a scabbard for a blade. It did not make sense to her. Something with more sentimental value would have been better.

That was until she realized that the child must not have had anything of that kind.

Not even a doll or a toy.

So she remained a symbol of war.

“The Piece of Paradise, and the Price of Paradise… I though the Book was already called the Price of Paradise?” Frost uttered, embracing the scabbard with all her might. “… Dark Memoria. What is the Price of Paradise? I’ve seen Micheala use a blade called the False Price of Paradise.”

“It is what you are thinking. The Price of Paradise is her child. The Marker of her child, retrofitted into a blade at the death of the Icon of Judgement.”

“She’s a Corrupted Item…?”

“Precisely. The Princess of Puritas; the child of the Arbiter, exists as a weapon from a Paradise Lost Corrupted.”

“Human emotions take such abstract forms.”

It should have angered Frost. But strangely, she was relieved that the Princess was alive in some capacity in the present, even if she was a Corrupted Item. It meant that she was still suffering somewhere out there.

“Then it’ll be our mission to find the other half of her.” She promised. “I’ll scour Paradise one last time when we’re out of here just in case. Afterwards… It’s to the Nexus I go with the memento of our friend.”

“Attachment is a damning thing, is it not?”

“It is. I won’t deny it. But we can’t stay in one place forever.”

“That is the key difference between you and I, alongside our physical perspective of the world around us.”

“You don’t see things as they are?”

“No. I see things as they were, chained down with avarice, lament, fear, and so forth. Attachment is many things, but primarily the binding of things.”

“What I see is the mangled cognitive mess of the self.”

“Tears and whatnot are but a murmur in the sea of black.”

“We see fluctuations of a person’s Corrupted self. Life exists in a superposition of what ifs until it becomes what will. Elysia can guide one to a more perfected self, however you may interpret it.”

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It was not that Dark Memoria or beings of her kind were apathetic. It was that they simply could not perceive the same things as people could. The perspective differences were not just in ideals, but literally as well.

How could Frost put herself in the shoes of a being that saw things that words could not begin to describe?

“But I see you clearly. Hair of black as ‘Frost’. And radiant gold belonging to the same person that reached for a Star.”

“Which is why I lament that you have chosen to forsake ignorance. I could have cradled you in place of your loved ones. When the roots of attachment snap, the whiplash will sink you into irrevocable despair.”

“I can be your only one.”

“No. I have enough people to save me as is. Besides, no one can replace Jury.” Frost stroked her engagement ring longingly.

Dark Memoria knew there was no convincing her anymore. The eyes Frost wore saw through the dark that engulfed the Aberration’s world.

And for that reason, Dark Memoria finally approached her.

“We are all seeking something abstract. Searching for the end goal with a meaning only we can conceptualize. A primordial urge beckons us to places far away. We are Gods of Cognition. Harbored in the minds and carried by the flow of raw unconsciousness.”

“You are similar. Because in the end, Elysia’s powers are derived from the Captured Star.”

“There is still much I terribly despise about you.”

“However…”

“Ah. This Attachment of mine stemming from you. It makes me not mind it at all.”

Dark Memoria’s face drew close, inhaling Frost’s scent in a disturbing manner.

“Do not trust the other Aberrations so easily.”

“Interpret this however you wish.”

“Is this goodbye for good? I still have things I want to ask from you. Like whether you can keep your hands off Time Reverberation.”

“Unfortunately, they must earn the right to interrogate the past.”

Frost was about to lash out at her, however, a small smile formed on the woman’s face as she pulled her messy hair back, tying it into a bundle where she stabbed the long spear like a giant hairpin.

“But I can offer some guidance. After all, my very own Will shall not cease. I, on the other hand, can teach you things only I know of the Reminiscence.”

“Here. Before we part ways.”

The Wound began to rapidly unravel. Space distorted heavily as they traversed from the past to the present. All that was not touched by them was frozen like during their battle.

*Tick Tock*

A black cuckoo clock embellished with white, thorny brambles fell into the palm of Frost’s hand. It was far too small to be a practical clock. It operated on a pendulum mechanism, emitting mechanical groans as something snored from behind a shutter.

Dark Forest Clock

< A beast slumbers until the first stroke of midnight >

ORIGIN : Object

AFFINITY : Attachment

TYPE : Tool

< EFFECT: Create an immediate Rewound Field. Freeze time for exactly one minute until the stroke of midnight >

“I shall come to your aid exactly one minute following the stroke of midnight.”

“Why am I helping you suddenly?”

“It is my form of atonement.”

“A woeful attempt at Salvation.”

Her voice disappeared as her form fizzled into nothingness.

< I await your return to the Nexus >

< As promised, I shall give you my name >

< My name, as of right now… >

It finally revealed its name as Frost returned to the desolate streets of Paradise, still holding the scabbard of the Princess and the Dark Forest Clock in her arms.

< … is Agate >

< The Archetype of Ego invites you to its Floor >