A number of people went by the busy street. It was like any other day. Stalls were put up. Children ran around. People spoke and laughed and produced a cacophony.
A girl wearing a cloak entered the busy street. She went against the throng of people as her blonde hair swayed. Gradually, her footsteps brought her to a plaza where the cacophony toned down.
Her eyes were naturally drawn to the marble altar at the opposite end of the plaza.
“Ah...” The girl muttered. The edge of her lips rose slightly.
It’s somewhat bitter.
The girl approached the altar with a straight face, yet her feet were heavier at each step she took.
She stood in front of the altar and reached her hand into her cloak. She took out a flower, a pink rose, and placed it among the flowers on the altar.
“Probably the children,” the girl chuckled. She saw stones on the altar among the mix of fresh and wilted flowers. Some were shiny. Some flat. Some round. The others are a mix of different colors and patterns.
As she stood there identifying the various flowers and their meaning, another person came up the altar and stood beside the blonde girl.
“A foreigner?” the person asked.
“Yes.”
“I see...” The person, a black-haired girl then said, “Gratitude? Were you somehow saved by her in some way before?”
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“You can say that.” The blonde girl focused her sight on the altar.
“I see.” A bitter smile ran across the black haired girl’s face. “I, too, as well. I was saved multiple times, but I never managed to return the gratitude...”
“Isn’t continuing to live already a way of showing your gratitude? Cherishing the life saved by that person. I think that's a beautiful way of repayment.”
“Maybe you’re right,” the black haired girl answered as she lifted her sight to the clear sky. “But it feels empty… It feels… wrong to let everything crumble to pieces. All the effort and hardships are gradually boiling down to nothing.”
“...”
“Sorry, I got emotional.”
“Don’t mind me.”
“Anyway...” the black haired girl muttered.
“Sorry, I have to leave.” The blonde girl turned away.
“Please, wait.” The black haired girl reached into her pocket and offered a pin. “If you ever encounter any trouble please use—”
“No.” The blonde girl cut-off as she halted her steps.
“In that case, please approach Tercel or any Noble and mention my name, M—”
“I won’t.”
“...Why?” The black haired girl asked, puzzled.
“I should be asking that. Why are you trusting someone you just met?” the blonde girl asked, as she turned her eyes on the black haired girl, dressed in light armor and armed with a rapier.
“Because I decided to change. To get stronger, and be able to reach out and help people as she did.” The blacked haired girl bore the determined eyes despite her young face.
“You need not be too trusting to become stronger.”
The black haired girl shook her head. “Yes. That’s true. I think she would have said the same thing. But... this is what I wanted to become.”
“Is that coming from you due to your title?”
The black haired girl’s eyes widened. “No.” She shook her head. “I’m doing this not because I was labeled as a Hero, but because I wanted to.”
“I see.” The blonde girl moved her feet and walked towards the street she came from. When she was far enough from the black haired girl, she muttered, “May you live long enough to return home.”