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Powerless Before You
Endgame: Live With Me

Endgame: Live With Me

Ever since that cursed day, my power has been limited.

These shackles that bind me… I, the once-mighty Dark Lord, who triumphed over death itself, am trapped in this void, without so much as a link to the world I strove so hard to subjugate.

How humiliating. How unfair.

Thankfully, that eventually began to change.

Through those eyes, I regained my view of the world. I could see its sights, hear its sounds. She and I were one. I knew her joy, her pain, her anguish. Our connection was one deeper than that of sharing minds—our very souls were intertwined.

Even then, the hold these cursed shackles have on my body remained present. My vision of the world was restricted to her perspective and hers alone. An improvement over the… nothingness of before, but still annoyingly limited for such a supreme being as myself.

But then, Elena submitted to despair.

I am still not fully free. Not even close. But at that moment, one of these shackles was set loose, and a surge of power swelled from within me. I could feel it, breathe it.

My vision now extended beyond that of Elena, and included those she held deep affection toward.

First, I used my power to spy on that swordsman, the oh-so-famous Miles of the Dead Sea Pirates. Peeking through his mind, I saw it all. His trauma, his anxieties, as well as his approach to the blade. Learning all this proved quite valuable, were we to one day meet on the field of battle—which, if everything goes according to plan, is quite likely.

Sticking to him for too long would be boring, though, as he basically just gets into fight after fight with the bunker’s guards. And I’d rather not be deprived of seeing Elena for any longer. I still want to test out my power a bit more, so how about we switch perspectives again?

Yes. Let’s switch. To that of a certain girl…

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She swept the floor.

Over and over and over. Her hands had turned sore and the floor was more than clean of dirt.

But she’d been ordered by Thales to sweep the floor, and a machine is unable to stop by itself. The only other order she’d received was to wait for him, in that very room, and thus she would do.

Her aquamarine eyes occasionally took their eyes off the floor to look at the world beyond the glass window on the wall before her. She felt a tinge of guilt at falling for such a distraction, but her hands were able to maintain their effort without the need for her eyes’ focus.

What presented itself to her was a sight most uncanny.

Where there should have been workers focused on the production of Mana Crystals, instead chaos was unraveling. Guards were taking cover behind the machines, getting into gunfights with some mysterious enemy. Who these aggressors were, she couldn’t make out from her limited viewpoint. All she knew was that they could aim fireballs with utmost precision. So much so, one struck a guard directly in the head, melting his face into ashes. Eventually, the guards were snuck upon by a crowd of people; Cordelia recognized them, as they’d been working on the assembly line not long ago.

Despite spending so much time with a knight of Thales’ caliber, Cordelia had never seen a true battlefield. That little skirmish in the palace garden with Elena, as well as the time Thales cut a man before her, were the closest she’d ever come to being in one. Even now, she remained unsure if what she was witnessing could even be called a battlefield. There was fighting, and people were dying horribly. It fit the description Thales always gave her of what a battlefield was.

But like with all the instances before, her reaction differed from that which most would deem appropriate. She was mildly curious, but largely apathetic. Although she recognized some of the faces being killed, she’d only seen them from afar, and struggled to have any emotional reaction to their deaths. They were not part of her world, but rather beings foreign to it, that existed in a realm beyond her reach.

In a twisted sense, this was a relief. It meant she wouldn’t get distracted by agony, and could carry out her task of sweeping the floor without delay.

What also brought her relief was that…THAT girl was not taking part of the battle. Because if she was, then Cordelia’s heart would begin to thump.

She remembered that feeling. It felt alien to her, because to her it felt alien to feel. Elena was the only person who had managed to elicit such strong emotions from her.

And immediately, the consequences proved disastrous.

Driven by her newfound emotions, Cordelia acted rashly. She broke the taboo and used magic to protect Elena. Those actions deemed her a target of the King’s ire, and sentenced her to death. It was only by Thales’ kindness that she was alive at all.

The lesson had been taught. Emotion led only to pain. Her course of life had been the correct one. Giving up control over her destiny and obeying Thales unquestionably was the route to survival.

She observed the battle further. The Marked, treated like cattle, were striking back against their oppressors. She understood this, but found no will to root for either side. To do so would require a strong opinion about the world, and it was safer to abandon such concepts.

—Then, the door to her left opened broad, and Cordelia froze.

Her eyes remained set on the glass. She couldn’t remove them, as she knew the moment she shifted her gaze to the figure that had just entered the room, her heart would thump once more.

“I returned to hear your answer,” the girl gallantly declared.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” lied Cordelia. She knew exactly what Elena was referring to.

Last time they met, Elena raised a question. A simple one, but that nonetheless cut through Cordelia’s heart like a razor blade.

Why?

Why had Cordelia risked so much for Elena’s sake?

The truth was, Cordelia had an answer. But it was a dangerous answer, one that threatened to disturb the entire foundation of her being. So, she stored it in a box, the same box inside her mind where she’d once stored her name.

Knowing that Elena had not bought her lie, Cordelia confessed, “Because you cause me to feel. To feel crazy, dangerous things.”

She spoke completely matter-of-factly. Elena closed her eyes, and breathed deeply.

Cordelia then turned to face Elena, her face rigid as stone. “So please, go away. I don’t want to feel that ever again.”

“Lies.”

“Huh?”

“That’s not true. Remember when you told me your name after I stood up for you?” Elena asked.

“I do recall that, but I don’t comprehend what relevance that has.”

“You told me the name those bastards tried to erase from you. Deep down, a wish for freedom was dwelling inside of you.”

“Impossible. I have no desires but those of my masters. I shall dutifully carry out—”

“You think yourself an emotionless machine, but it’s not true. You can smile, you can laugh, you are a normal girl! A normal girl afraid of being hurt. The only thing abnormal is this shitty situation you’re in!

Elena arguments turned into yells. So sure was she of her conviction, of there being humanity dwelling inside Cordelia.

Cordelia, for her part, looked for a rebuttal. Instead of rejecting Elena’s argument, she seemingly changed the subject completely. “But all you’ve done is getting me closer to death. Before, I at least lived in the Royal Palace. Now I’m stuck here.” As she spoke, she choked on her words a bit.

“That’s true,” Elena admitted. “I have caused hardship upon you, have I not? I cannot fault you for being weary of me, thinking all I can offer you is misfortune.”

“If you understand, then why do you insist?”

“Because that mentality… it is one born only of fear!”

Cordelia blinked repeatedly, in rapid succession. Elena was claiming her inaction was motivated by an emotion, namely fear.

Before, Cordelia had concluded emotions were what led her to act recklessly, and thus any trace of emotion had to be squashed from her mind. But if Elena’s assessment was correct, then her will to submit was just as illogical as her will to rebel.

“You are afraid of even worse pain. You are afraid of death. It’s only normal.”

“And so what?” Cordelia shouted, her voice growing croaky. “This is the life I’ve been granted. I cannot do anything to change it!”

“Those are not your words. Those are words that have been implanted upon you by those ruling over you!” Elena claimed. “After all, you are the one who decided to use magic. You are the one who went against the taboo.”

“Shut up,” Cordelia whispered, eyes downcast.

“You are the one who wants to be free!” Elena yelled. “You think you are powerless, yet you showed you can fight for more!”

“SHUT UP,” Cordelia shouted nasally, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I can’t strive for such a life. I am a Marked. Servitude is my penance for being born.”

“Just because you were served lies your whole life doesn’t make them true. You weren’t born to serve. No one is. You were born to live! As yourself. As Miles’ little sister. As Cordelia!”

“Live?” Cordelia repeated, as if befuddled by the very idea.

Elena tilted her head and gave a warm look. “Right. You’ve barely had a taste of life. Of what it can be.”

Elena stared directly at her own arm. She caressed it with her fingertip, as if she was tracing a wound. But there was nothing there, only her silk-like skin.

“Living can be scary,” she said, in an exasperated tone that sounded like a confession. “There are fates in life that can excel death in how scary they are.”

Despite speaking to such highbrow concepts such as life and death, her words awoke something in Cordelia, who reacted with raised eyebrows.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“But there is a lot of good in life, too.”

“Like what?” Cordelia asked, in earnest.

Elena let out a hearty laugh. “What a broad question!” She brought her fists to her hips. “I don’t know. Maybe laying on grass with a friend, breathing in the sounds and smells of nature.” She laughed again, now with an away glance. “Then again, I guess I would not know much about that, the shut-in that I am.”

“I don’t comprehend. Do you not practice what you’re so eager to preach?”

“I… guess I don’t. Maybe I don’t know much of what it truly means to live myself. But”—she clenched a fist, before extending an open hand—”that’s why I want you to live with me.”

“Live…with you?”

“Yes. I want you to come with me. To sail the seas by my side, by your brother’s side, enjoying the wonders of the world with people who care about you. Slowly but surely, I want us to discover what living is all about— together!”

That was her simple plea. But more than that, it was an invitation. To take her hand and sail into a world that extended beyond her current one.

Could she really make such a daring choice? Cordelia pressed her hand into her chest, feeling her heart endlessly pump, seemingly pushing her forward with every beat.

“But… won’t there be pain?” Cordelia asked, her voice tearing as it rang.

What Elena was asking her to do, to reject her entire way of life, was a course Cordelia had considered before. Every time she placed so much as a foot on such a forbidden road, she was met with whips and lashes. Could Elena promise that wouldn’t be the case? That she would be free of the dreadful pain?

“Maybe. I can’t promise life will be devoid of pain. I’ve said it before, but life has as much danger as it has joys. But what I can promise is this: I will protect you. I shall be there on nights where you want to cry. Help you get back up when you fall down. It may not be worth much… but I swear, I shall give it my all for your sake!”

The world surrounding them began to be set aflame. The fire of the fighting outside was rapidly approaching, sinking the insides of the underground bunker into a hellfire worthy of itself. Temperature rapidly rose, and orange served as background to Elena’s firm figure.

Before smoke began to seep into her lungs, Elena repeated her plea with all the force they allowed. “So please, Cordelia, live with me! I am weak, I cannot promise you more than what I already have. The one with the power to decide your fate is you and you alone!”

She reached out her hand once again.

The world Cordelia always knew was crumbling, morphing into a sea of fume. Hers was a choice between dying with that world, or taking that girl’s hand.

“I…I…”

“ELENA!”

A booming cry cut into their heart-to-heart, its familiar sound awakening dread within the both of them.

Like a demon, a figure appeared from the flames. Its skin was charred and its movements were bumbley, almost zombie-like. It carried ash where hair should be, and its eyes were all sclera. Yet its tall physique was unarguable male, and the blade it held in its arms revealed its identity.

“S—sir Thales!” Cordelia cried out, her eyes about to pop out of shock.

The man he owed her life to, Thales Lockgood, had made his appearance in a state that defied the normal boundaries between life and death. Cordelia froze; even now, he held an undeniable power over her.

“ELENA!” he screeched. His voiced sounded hoarse, like he was in constant agony.

Ignoring all but his goal, the former swordsman lunged forward, sword arm raised above his head.

The greatest of all the Kingdom’s knights, Master of the Dance of Wind, was now a shambling, brutish beast relying entirely on instinct, and this was reflected on his swordplay; it lacked the finesse and refinement proper of such practiced hands. Instead, his swing was blatantly telegraphed, and he was propelled forward like a dog that drags its master by the leash. Elena, his target, swiftly leapt out of the way; were he to have been his usual self, such a notion would have been impossible, and Elena would have been torn open in an instant.

The momentum Thales carried with himself was such that he continued strolling forward after missing, until his body crashed into the nearby wall.

“What’s going on?” Cordelia asked.

“I don’t know. Last time I saw Thales he—”

Elena cut herself off with a gulp, then had to get dodging again. The Thales-zombie wasn’t done, and with blood spilling out of its mouth, jumped at her again, delivering a series of quick strikes.

“ELENA! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME!”

Why did it hold such a single-minded obsession with Elena? The creature bearing Thales’ image seemed to completely ignore Cordelia’s presence.

There was no time to ponder such questions, as the tip of Thales’s managed to brush Elena’s left arm, inflicting a grave wound in the progress.

“ARRRGH.”

Elena was no seasoned fighter who could easily fight off pain. She plugged the hole spewing blood with her right hand, but the pain had distracted her long enough for Thales to close in easily on her.

“RELEASE ME FROM THIS HELL!”

Thales shoved her forward, causing Elena to tumble down, landing on her back. Thales placed his foot atop her torso, and readied his blade for a finishing blow. Bits of his skin corroded, turning into a red liquid that fell on Elena’s skin like raindrops fall to Earth.

With her movement restricted, if that blow was delivered, Elena’s life was sure to end.

The girl who had promised Cordelia a new life, about to be slain by the rotting remains of the one who’d given her her current one.

As the flames surrounding her grew increasingly stronger, drawing the curtain on her world, the correct choice became obvious to Cordelia.

“Hielo. Generar. Volar.”

Cordelia extended her arm, motioning with her slim fingers. The air around her swirled, and dozens of small icicles formed right before her eyes, floating in the air.

The ability to generate ice was something her teacher, Nr. 8, had taught her back in the Royal Palace, but she’d never once actually tried. She never could bring herself to do so, for she remembered the icicles that neared her corpse the night of her death. And yet, many times she’d looked at Thales, and for some reason, wished she could erase that memory and drown his body with icicles.

Was the deed she was about to commit some deep desire within Cordelia that even she never knew about? The weariness of her eyes implied the answer was yes, as did her satisfaction as the icicles flew, impaling the back of Thales in rapid succession.

The creature recoiled, releasing a crying wail. Holes formed in its torso, guts spilling from them. And yet, it seemed to not perish, as the arm that held its blade remained in motion.

“Hielo. Generar. Volar.”

In haste, Cordelia repeated her incantation. This time, her arm was aimed higher, and the icicles followed its lead. This time, they struck the hilt of his blade, sending it flying. It landed, with its tip getting stuck on the ground right next to Elena’s face.

Thinking quickly, Elena used her hand to draw the sword from the ground, tearing off Thales’ leg. Instead of freeing her, this caused the rest of Thales’ body to collapse on top of her. In the ensuing wrestle, Thales began to punch and bite her face.

“ELENA, YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO ME!” Thales cried out repeatedly as he struck her.

Alive or dead, Thales was consistent. His hands were built for violence.

And Cordelia had seen enough.

“Y—Y—Y—Y—Y—Y—ou have… done this…to me…”

Cordelia grabbed the blade from Elena’s hand—and stabbed Thales with it.

The same sword that had slipped out of his hands penetrated what remained of Thales’ stomach. If before he tipped the line between the living and the dead, now his body had chosen death, as it ceased all motion.

Elena, who remained lying on the ground, shoved away the corpse she was buried under, and was met with a most inspiring sight: a soft hand that reached out to her from above.

“I want to live… with you,” Cordelia declared amid tears.

Fear had long held a grip on her, but when the crucial moment of decision arrived, life was what she had chosen.

Elena smiled, then without hesitation grabbed the girl’s hand, rising to her feet before hugging her frail body.

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The cruelty that took place under the plains of Tumba de Beatriz had come to a fiery end. Those who had been held prisoner within those hellish steel walls were led to the outside, where the light of the sun received them all with warmth.

“You are my… brother?”

Among those who now dwelled in the light was a girl of silver hair and brown skin, whose eyes sparkled with wonder.

“Yes… I guess you don’t remember me…”

The young man brought his fingers to his eyes, acting as a dam for the tears he was holding back.

A rendezvous that he surely sought his whole life, it was a different experience for Cordelia, whose memories of that world of sea were fuzzy.

Still, Cordelia felt her blood ache, as she knew she and the man before him were connected.

“Cordelia… that is your name. I have never forgotten. I remember how crisp my mother’s voice sounded when she said your name… or, I guess I should say, our mother.”

This new world being born before her was still so confusing. Never before had she pondered who her mother could be, or if she had a lost sibling. Such questions simply did not belong in her world, and now she was receiving all the answers to all those unasked questions.

It was overwhelming, it was perplexing, in a way, but it was also inviting. The sunshine was so strong, it marked this was a new beginning.

“Welcome home, my precious sister.”

Weeping, Miles embraced her petite body. This was the first time they’d conversed, yet he was treating her with such kindness, with a word like precious. Cordelia meant more to him than he could ever mean to her, that much was evident. Thus, she was unable to pay him back with an equal level of warmth; she simply stood stone-faced, sinking into the touch of his sinewy arms while hers remained next to her torso, like those of a statue.

But perhaps that was fine. After all, Elena had said that they would slowly learn what living was. It was forgivable if in some occasions, Cordelia did not respond appropriately.

“Hey now, I was the heroine here. When is it my turn for the hugs?”

At that teasing remark, both siblings reacted by pulling away from one another, and aiming their gazes at its originator. With a cheeky smile, Elena waved at the two of them.

“Is that an order? I believe I can hug you if you want,” Cordelia said.

“That’s clearly not an order!” Miles complained. “And even if it was, it was aimed at me.”

“Unlikely. I am the most frequent target for Elena’s hugging.”

“What?” Miles exclaimed.

“Relax my lovelies. It’s a joke. There is enough of me for the both of you anyway.”

“I—I understand,” Miles said, slurring his words.

“I will take this information into account,” said Cordelia.

Elena strolled up to them, then placed one of her hands on their respective shoulders. “I am just happy brother and sister are reunited at last. Not all families are so easy to rebuild.”

Fate had brought the three of them under the same sky, and that was a blessing that was not to be taken for granted. After much fighting and suffering, there was something soothing about the simple pleasure of sharing the light of the sun with the two people she most esteemed. Elena’s deep dark eyes were hard to read, but with the clear glance she gave Cordelia, it was clear as crystal how much this moment meant to her.

“So, Cordy, are you ready for your new life?”

“I don’t know who this ‘Cordy’ person is, but if you want my answer, then I can confirm it is positive.”

Elena sighed and facepalmed, likely at Cordelia’s response, which sounded like an algorithm putting words together. Then, the corner of her mouth contorted into a grin, followed by her striking a dramatic pose.

“Oh, oh, heat wave, oh, I think I’m about to pass out!”

“Elena!” Miles shouted, as Elena fell onto the grass.

“Elena, it can’t be! I took care of all of your wounds!” Cordelia said. There was legitimate concern to her voice, far less robotic than she had sounded literal seconds before.

“Then please, take another good look at me,” Elena cried out, extending her arm toward the sky. “Check my pulse.”

“Yes, let me observe—GAH.”

Cordelia’s body was pulled toward the earth, rolling across the green plain. Laying there next to Elena, she could feel the touch of the grass on her back, as well as smell its odor. The endless beauty of the sky, the song of chirping birds, even the disgusting look of a nearby snail. Those were sensations that were always there, inhabiting her world, but that she had only just now become able to truly perceive them.

She closed her eyes. Nothing, no one, had told her to, but something compelled her to do so anyway. Some of those sensations remained. Others disappeared into the void. But they were sure to reappear once she opened her eyes back up.

What she was experiencing… was life. Her senses were working together to let her savor life itself.

“I…think I like this,” Cordelia said in bliss.

She opened her eyes, and was met with the black voids that were Elena’s. They might make her seem scary at first glance, but there was an undeniable warmth to them that dared eclipse that of the sun.

The two smiled at each other, both their gazes locked, their souls bounded as one.

“Funny. But don’t mess around like that. We both were seriously concerned for you.”

Miles’ attitude was that of a party pooper, staring down at them with crossed arms. But Elena did not buy it for a second, and pursed her lips, before saying to Cordelia, “Don’t pay him any mind. He’s just jealous he’s too stuck-up to roll on the grass for a bit.”

“What? That’s not true. I’m not stuck up at all!”

All Miles’ denial accomplished was for Elena to wink at Cordelia, riling him up even further.

“Then get down here,” Elena said.

“Fine! I will.”

With body language befitting of a cartoon, Miles sat on the grounds, his arms remaining crossed on every moment. He then stretched out his legs, and finally lay on the pasture like the two girls.

“See, that wasn’t that hard,” Elena teased.

“I… suppose not,” he said.

The three of them lay there, hand in hand, motionless but with purpose, taking in the sights and sounds that life offered.

The sun cast its curtain of light on their bodies, and with it, came the falling curtain on this story, which had concluded its first act.