“Sa…ria…” Belzad’s voice is barely a whisper, his eyes widening in recognition as he turns to face his sister.
Saria’s hand shoots out, grabbing Belzad’s neck with a fierceness that belies her small frame. Her voice, when she speaks, is steel wrapped in silk. “You have created a disaster in both worlds, brother. This time, I won’t give you a chance to live.”
I watch, transfixed, as Saria’s palm begins to glow with an otherworldly light. The air around them shimmers, reality itself seeming to bend. With a violent motion that makes my stomach lurch, Saria pulls Belzad’s spirit from his body. It’s like watching someone turn inside out, but on a metaphysical level.
Saria’s next words are heavy with judgment and sorrow. “You killed our parents and created chaos in our world. Bear the sins you’ve had as you fall deep into hell, Belzad.”
Belzad’s scream is unlike anything I’ve ever heard—not just the cry of a dying man, but the wail of a soul being unmade. His spirit disintegrates before our eyes, scattering like glowing dust on a wind we can’t feel. His physical body shatters in its wake, the conflicting energies that once empowered him now tearing him apart at a molecular level.
As the last motes of Belzad’s existence fade away, Saria turns to me. Her smile is a complex thing, equal parts satisfaction and deep, abiding sorrow. “You did great,” she says softly.
But I can’t accept her praise. I shake my head, my attention drawn inexorably to Spica’s lifeless form. My heart constricts as I watch her body begin to dematerialize, fading like morning mist under the sun’s rays. With trembling fingers, I reach for her hand, desperate to hold on to her for just one more moment before she’s gone forever.
A heavy silence falls over us, each lost in our own grief for Spica. Noarin presses against my chest, her body wracked with sobs. Kai’s usual playful demeanor has crumbled, replaced by a mask of sorrow I’ve never seen him wear before. Rishia’s tears fall silently, while Lyra clenches her fists so tightly her knuckles turn white, frustration and guilt etched into every line of her face. Even Darius, usually so composed, removes his headband in a gesture of respect and mourning.
We’re all exhausted, physically and emotionally drained. No one moves, as if by staying still we can somehow freeze this moment and prevent the full weight of our loss from crashing down upon us.
“So…” A sudden voice shatters the silence, making us all jump. Damn, in the chaos of the moment, we’d completely forgotten about Tempest.
Saria reacts with lightning speed, binding Tempest with shadows that seem to leach the very light from the air. Another dark ornament, I realize dimly. I can’t help but wonder just how many attributes she’s mastered.
Tempest raises his hands in a gesture of surrender, his ever-present grin somehow still in place. “Hey hey hey, wait, I surrender,” he says, his tone maddeningly casual. “Now that the boss is dead, I don’t have any obligation to mess with you. Besides, I’ve already seen some pretty great things. Now that you’re exhausted, I won’t have any fun beating you.”
Saria’s eyes narrow dangerously. “And why should I believe you?” she demands, summoning a sword of pure light and leveling it at Tempest’s nose.
Tempest’s grin widens, seemingly unperturbed by the deadly weapon inches from his face. “Didn’t I tell you before? As long as I can have some fun, I don’t care who I work with.”
“You killed someone,” Saria reminds him, her voice cold as she inches the sword closer.
Tempest shrugs, an impressive feat given his bindings. “That’s my way of having fun. People have their own way of entertaining themselves.” His eyes gleam with a madness that makes my skin crawl. “Anyway…”
As if on cue, the ground beneath us begins to tremble. Tempest’s next words send a chill down my spine. “This city’s going to fall, you know?”
The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. In the heat of battle and the aftermath of loss, I’d completely forgotten our precarious situation. We’re on a floating city, held aloft by Belzad’s now-defunct power. And we’re about to drop out of the sky.
“We have to slow it down!” Saria’s voice cuts through the panic, her eyes blazing with determination.
Kai, ever the quick thinker, immediately springs into action. He assumes a stance I’ve seen countless times before, but never with such desperation.
But even as he begins, I can see the strain etched into every line of his face. “God… damn it…!” he grunts, sweat beading on his brow. “This city is… too massive!”
I can’t just stand by and watch. Summoning every ounce of strength left in my battered body, I extend my arm, attempting to amplify Kai’s power. “Akh…!” A cry of pain escapes me as what feels like lightning courses through my veins. My entire body goes numb, refusing to obey my commands.
The city lurches, beginning its deadly descent. Kai’s scream of effort echoes across the landscape as he pushes himself beyond his limits, desperately trying to slow our fall.
Frustration and helplessness wash over me. None of our attributes can effectively counter this disaster, and there’s no Resonator left who can amplify or resonate with Kai’s gravity manipulation. I curse my weakness, feeling utterly useless.
Suddenly, I notice Saria approaching Noarin. They lock eyes, and an unspoken conversation passes between them. Noarin’s expression hardens, determination replacing fear in her eyes. Saria offers a sad smile and places her hand on Noarin’s head. What could they be communicating?
Then it hits me, a realization that sends a jolt of both hope and fear through my heart. As Saria’s palm begins to glow against Noarin’s forehead, I watch magical lines spread across Noarin’s body like a living tattoo.
Saria is implanting a magic circuit in Noarin…
After what feels like an eternity, Noarin’s eyes flare with newfound power. She turns to me, a bittersweet smile on her lips. Our eyes meet, and in that moment, I understand her resolve. I nod, managing a smile of my own, silently conveying my support and love.
image [https://i.imgur.com/iqthfQS.jpeg]
Noarin takes a deep breath, then reaches out with her newly awakened power. She resonates with my energy and Kai’s gravity manipulation simultaneously. The ground beneath us erupts in light, as if a fallen star now cradles our doomed city. Gradually, our descent slows, the city gently floating down towards the massive crater that was once its foundation.
As we touch down, the glow fades. Noarin collapses beside me, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “That was… intense,” she manages, exhaustion clear in every syllable.
I turn to Saria, my gaze demanding answers. She nods, understanding my unspoken question.
“When I vanquished Belzad’s spirit,” Saria begins, her voice soft but steady, “I managed to extract the magic circuit implanted within him. It needed a new host, and… I chose Noarin.”
“Why…” I pause, gathering my thoughts. “Why didn’t you take it for yourself?”
Saria shakes her head, a sad smile playing at her lips. “I don’t deserve Spica’s soul,” she says quietly. “But I’m certain she’d be overjoyed to entrust it to her mother.”
Noarin’s eyes widen, tears welling up. “Spica… she’s… she’s a part of me now…”
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Saria nods. “In a way, yes. Her power, her potential… it lives on through you.”
I wrap an arm around Noarin, holding her close as she processes this bittersweet gift. “Thank you,” I whisper to Saria, my voice thick with emotion.
Saria nods, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It’s the least I could do. Spica’s legacy will live on through Noarin.”
As we’re processing this bittersweet moment, a sudden commotion catches my attention. I turn to where Tempest was bound, only to find empty air where he should have been.
“What the—” I start, but I’m cut off by the sound of approaching sirens and the whir of helicopter blades.
Within moments, the area is swarming with ADF agents. They move with practiced efficiency, securing the perimeter and attending to the wounded. I watch, slightly dazed, as medical personnel rush to our side.
“Sir, are you alright?” A medic kneels beside me, already pulling out supplies. “We need to check you for injuries.”
I nod numbly, my eyes scanning the chaos around us. Across the wreckage of what was once our floating city, I see teams of agents rounding up the remaining Chaos Bringers. The sight of our longtime enemies being cuffed and led away is surreal, a tangible sign that this nightmare might truly be over.
Noarin squeezes my hand, drawing my attention back to her. She looks exhausted but determined, the new power within her giving her eyes an otherworldly gleam. “We did it,” she murmurs, a mixture of disbelief and relief in her voice.
Before I can respond, a flood of reporters descends upon us, held back only by a thin line of ADF agents. Camera flashes explode like stars, and a cacophony of questions assaults us from all sides.
“Can you tell us what happened here?”
“Is it true that the entire city was floating?”
“Who was behind this attack?”
“Are you the ones who saved us?”
The barrage is overwhelming. I look to my friends, seeing my own bewilderment mirrored in their faces. We’ve just been through hell, and now we’re expected to explain it to the world?
Suddenly, Saria steps forward, her presence commanding immediate attention. “I’ll handle this,” she says softly to us before turning to face the media.
As Saria begins to address the reporters, skillfully fielding their questions while revealing only what’s necessary, I lean back, allowing the medics to tend to my injuries. The adrenaline is wearing off, and I can feel every bruise, every cut, every ache in my overtaxed muscles.
Kai limps over, supported by Rishia. “Can you believe this?” he asks, gesturing at the circus around us. “One minute we’re fighting for our lives, the next we’re practically celebrities.”
I manage a weak chuckle. “Fame was never part of the job description.”
“Speaking of jobs,” Lyra interjects, her voice low, “what happens now? With the ADF? With… everything?”
It’s a loaded question, one that I’m not sure how to answer. Our world has changed irrevocably. The existence of magic, of other worlds, of threats beyond imagination – it’s all out in the open now. There’s no going back.
As if reading my thoughts, Darius speaks up. “We adapt,” he says simply. “We’ve faced the impossible and survived. Whatever comes next, we’ll handle it together.”
I nod, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Yes, our battle with Belzad and the Chaos Bringers is over, but our journey is far from finished. There will be questions to answer, a city to rebuild, a world to protect.
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I slowly close the door to my room, the soft click echoing in the silence. My eyes scan the familiar room, settling on Spica’s favorite book resting next to our bed. It’s a beacon of memories in the dimness.
With heavy steps, I cross the room and crouch down, my fingers trembling as they brush the book’s worn cover. As I lift it, the weight feels different – not just physically, but emotionally. It’s as if all our hopes and dreams for Spica are contained within its pages.
I begin to read, and suddenly, I’m transported. Memories flood my mind: Spica’s laughter as we act out the characters, her wide-eyed wonder at each new word she learns, the warmth of her small body nestled between Noarin and me.
Tears blur my vision as I turn each page, reliving those precious moments. Suddenly, an envelope slips out, landing softly on the floor. I pick it up, my heart skipping a beat as I read the recipients: “Papa and Mama.”
The door creaks open slowly, and Noarin appears, her face a mirror of my own grief and exhaustion. “Hey there,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you might need some comforting.”
I try to smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “Yeah, maybe,” I manage, hastily wiping my tears as she crosses the room to sit beside me. The warmth of her presence is both a comfort and a reminder of our shared loss.
Noarin’s eyes dart to the envelope in my hands, curiosity momentarily overriding her sorrow. “What’s this?”
I show her the envelope, and her eyes widen as she reads the simple address. “Do you want to read it together?” I ask, my voice rough with emotion.
She nods, wordlessly shifting closer. With trembling hands, I open the envelope and unfold the contents. Spica’s handwriting, a bit messy but full of character, fills the page. As we begin to read, it’s as if we can hear her voice, bright and full of life:
“Congratulations! Papa and Mama found my hidden messages! I bet it took you long enough to find this, it’s the best place to hide them.”
Noarin lets out a watery chuckle, and I feel a smile tugging at my lips despite the ache in my chest. As we continue reading, each word is a bittersweet reminder of the daughter we’ve lost:
“Anyway, Papa and Mama always seem to be very busy with work. I’m glad I can always be with you, even if Papa is still at work. I’m glad that Mama is always with me wherever I go. But sometimes Papa gets tired every time Papa comes back from a fight. Mama also made a scary face when Mama talked to the bad guys."
I feel Noarin’s hand slip into mine, squeezing gently. We exchange a glance, both remembering the times we tried to shield Spica from the dangers of our world.
“I wish I could help, but I don’t know anything about the job. That’s why I’m very happy when Mama teaches me how to deal with bad guys. Maybe I can make Papa’s tired face disappear so he can smile every day! Maybe I can also give Mama a rest from yelling at the bad guys every day.”
A sob escapes Noarin, and I pull her closer, my own tears falling freely now. The letter continues, each word a testament to Spica’s love and determination:
“Recently, I heard about a bad guy who wants to take me away. Papa and Mama swear to protect me. But I’m afraid that if the bad guys really get me, Papa and Mama will blame themselves. But I don’t think they can, because Papa and Mama are strong! There aren’t any bad guys who can defeat them.”
I feel a pang of guilt, remembering our failure to protect her. But Spica’s next words cut through my self-recrimination:
“But please, I don’t want Papa and Mama to blame themselves. I will work hard to protect myself! Or even, I’ll protect Papa and Mama! I’ll take care of the bad guys so Papa and Mama will praise me!”
Noarin’s grip on my hand tightens, and I can feel her trembling. “She was so brave,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
I nod, unable to speak as we read the final part of Spica’s letter:
“I want to say thank you for having me. Everything’s fun when Papa and Mama are around! Uncle Kai and Auntie Rishia are funny too, they give me lots of things to play with. Big sister Lyra is also very nice, she always wants to play with me. Uncle Darius is scary, but he’s also a good man!
If Papa Mama reads this, don’t forget to smile! Spica loves when Papa Mama smiles!”
As we finish reading, a heavy silence falls over us. Then, slowly, I turn to Noarin. Despite the tears streaming down her face, there’s a small, tremulous smile on her lips. I realize I’m smiling too, honoring Spica’s last request.
“She… she’s still with us, isn’t she?” Noarin says softly, her hand unconsciously moving to her chest where Spica’s magical circuit now resides.
I nod, pulling her into a tight embrace. “Always,” I whisper into her hair. “In our memories, in our hearts, and now… in you.”
We stay like that for a long time, holding each other, grieving for what we’ve lost but also celebrating the love that remains. Spica may be gone, but her spirit lives on – in this letter, in our hearts, and in the power that now flows through Noarin.
As the first light of dawn peeks through our window, I make a silent promise to our daughter. We’ll keep fighting, keep protecting, and most of all, we’ll keep smiling – just like she wanted.
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The warm water cascades over me, washing away the grime and tension of battle, but not the weight of recent events. As I step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a soft towel, I catch my reflection in the steamy mirror. My eyes, usually sharp and determined, now hold a hint of uncertainty. This world, once just a mission, has become my new home.
After changing into borrowed clothes that hang a bit loosely on my frame, I pause at the bathroom door. The reality of my situation sinks in: I can’t return to my world. For now, Aruta and Noarin’s home will be my sanctuary until I can find my own place in this unfamiliar realm.
As I step into the hallway, my enhanced senses pick up muffled voices from Aruta’s room. Curiosity draws me closer, and I find myself sliding down the wall, sitting on the floor outside his room. I hear Noarin’s soft weeping and Aruta’s shaky breaths. The room falls silent for a long moment, filled only with the weight of shared grief and love. Maybe they’re reflecting on the memories about the child we’ve lost and the impact she had on all our lives.
Part of me wants to go to them, to share in this moment of remembrance and sorrow. But I hesitate, realizing that this is a private moment between parents mourning their child. My presence, while well-intentioned, might intrude on their healing process.
image [https://i.imgur.com/IyXVB6i.jpeg]
Instead, I make my way silently to the guest room that will be my temporary home. As I close the door behind me, I lean against it, closing my eyes. In the quiet of this unfamiliar room, I make a silent promise – to Aruta, to Noarin, to the memory of Spica, and to myself. I will do everything in my power to protect this world and the people in it. It’s what Spica would have wanted, and it’s the least I can do to honor her memory.