"Heinrich, what do you think the end of our lives will be like?"
The man fell silent.
Not because he lacked an answer.
His gaze remained fixed ahead, stretching beyond the expanse of common dwellings spread far below.
The residence of Count Dmitry stood in grandeur atop the hills. The great walls surrounding it resembled the spine of a dragon, enclosing the entire domain with strength and pride.
He stood upon those grey stone walls, side by side with a woman.
A gentle breeze brushed against his face. His dark brown hair swayed softly, like grass bending beneath the wind.
He turned his head slightly.
Sky-blue eyes rested upon the figure beside him.
The woman stood upright.
Graceful.
Elegant in a suit of steel armor forged by the finest blacksmiths within the county.
Her silver-white hair shimmered faintly beneath the light. She appeared like a being drawn from old tales, a fairy that once existed only in the childhood stories Heinrich had heard.
Their eyes were alike.
There was no doubt of the bond between them.
"Truly, my sister, you have become something of a philosopher of late. Yesterday you asked of life's meaning, this morning of its purpose, and now… its end?"
His tone was light, touched with gentle teasing.
The woman smiled.
A sincere smile, as though she had long grown accustomed to such replies.
"My dear sister, would it not be better for you to cast aside your title as a knight and take a place at the Imperial Academy? You would make a fine teacher of philosophy."
She gave a soft laugh, gesturing toward the settlement below. Yet the laughter soon faded, replaced by a quiet seriousness that settled upon her features.
She drew a slow breath.
"I was only thinking… would it have been better had we not been born as nobles? Of all that we possess, there is but one thing I truly value."
She turned slightly.
"You."
"Heinrich…"
Her voice was gentle, yet carried a weight beneath it.
"Whatever you choose to do, whichever path you walk… live on. Until that time comes, I shall aid you."
Heinrich's brows tightened.
"Why do you speak in such a manner, Erna? As though you mean to leave something behind for me… and offer yourself in sacrifice."
A note of displeasure was unmistakable in his voice.
Erna turned to him.
One hand rose, cupping his cheek.
The dark crimson glove felt warm despite its rough surface.
"A daughter holds no rightful claim to inheritance, unlike a son. Even the weakest among them is granted his due."
"… "
"Unlike myself… and our other sisters. The next heir of this domain will not permit any of you to live. That includes you."
Silence fell between them.
"You know… though we were born of different mothers, we have always been close since childhood. As though we were of the same womb."
Her gaze softened.
"I have come this far to protect you."
"Erna…"
"Whenever you grow upset, you always call my name."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"That habit makes our bond feel real. The rigid formalities of nobility… they are tiresome."
Heinrich looked at her in silence.
The woman before him, his elder sister, was only a year older.
Yet the burden she bore was far greater.
"Heinrich, even if you survive all of this… you are nearing adulthood."
She withdrew her hand and turned her gaze forward once more.
"And you know what that means."
The air seemed to grow colder.
"I can protect you only so long as I remain within this residence."
She paused briefly.
"But not forever."
Heinrich said nothing.
"At most, I have but one year left."
Her tone was firm.
"The betrothal has already been decided."
The wind stirred again, carrying with it a heavier silence.
"So, Heinrich… I have one year after my coming-of-age ceremony."
She turned, meeting his eyes directly.
Unshakable resolve burned within her gaze.
"Use that time. Prepare yourself to leave this land."
Her stare hardened, locking onto her younger brother.
Each word pressed with weight.
"Do you understand?"
***
James stood motionless upon the balcony of his chamber, leaving Irene behind upon the bed, still wrapped in quiet confusion.
The night hung in silence, as though holding its breath, while he remained caught between what was real and what had yet to fully fade.
The dream that had just passed felt vivid.
Too vivid.
It lingered, leaving behind a warmth that refused to disappear.
The time they had shared had been brief, scarcely meaningful when measured in days. Yet within that fleeting span, something had taken root within him… something he had never expected to feel.
Affection.
A gentle warmth, born between siblings.
Less than two years he had dwelt within those walls after taking this body. Yet within that fragile span, their bond had grown deep, as though fate itself had forced him to feel every fragment of emotion that had never been his to begin with.
He knew it.
He felt it clearly.
Even as he had tried, time and again, to distance himself from it.
The guilt was suffocating.
He knew what he was.
A usurper.
One who had taken a life.
One who had taken the place of a younger brother.
And yet…
Erna.
Your name slipped into the silence, like a prayer that would never reach its destination.
No matter how much had changed, no matter how different he had become from the one you once knew, your sincerity had never wavered. Your affection had remained whole, as though you refused to see the difference so plainly before you.
The memories of you… of the childhood you once shared with this body… remained etched in the deepest corners of his mind.
How long had he tried to cast them aside?
To bury them.
To press them down into silence.
And yet they had never truly vanished.
They only waited.
Waiting for the smallest lapse to resurface, like a dormant blade ready to pierce without warning.
Such were the memories of this body.
Such was the past of Heinrich.
James lowered his head, forcing down the surge of emotion that rose within him once more. Every fragment of those cherished days, every laugh of childhood, every warmth shared with his sister, felt like a blade carving slowly into his heart.
Too sweet.
Too beautiful.
A bond of family, forged upon trust and love.
Yet such beauty never came without its cost.
That guilt… tightened around him.
Each time her image appeared within his mind, his breath faltered. Her smile was radiant, her gaze gentle, and her beauty… lingered, deepening the unseen wound within him.
Erna.
My sister.
My elder.
Because of you… because of your unwavering resolve… because of the warmth you gave so freely… I am still standing here.
All that we shared…
I shall never forget it.
Without you, I would never have come this far. I would never have built what was once nothing more than a simple dream of childhood.
You remember it, do you not?
That modest dream.
A quiet life, far from the clamor of the world… a sacred bond formed without excess or splendor.
So simple a dream…
Yet so distant.
My sister…
Somewhere beyond my reach.
Far.
So very far.
It is said, in tales long past, that the fair folk of the night grant the wishes of those who whisper beneath the darkened sky.
The night wind brushed softly against his face, cool against his skin. His hand rested upon the wooden railing of the balcony, its faint warmth resisting the creeping chill.
The wind felt… different.
As though it carried something.
As though… something answered.
Each passing breeze that touched him sounded like a faint whisper, blurring the boundary between reality and illusion.
Was it merely his imagination?
Or… a reply?
In the end, the truth of such tales no longer mattered.
What remained… was belief.
Just as with you.
Your faith, which had always shielded me… even more than yourself.
There was something he wished to say.
To the world.
To the heavens.
To the stars and the moon that bore witness to this night.
[Sister.
How do you fare in that distant place? Are you well?
Thank you.
Because of you, I yet live… and I have been able to bring to life the dream we once wove together.
And yet… my heart feels heavy.
For it is only my dream that has come to pass.
Erna…
Just as you once left me with words to endure, no matter the cost…
I now return them to you.
Live on.
Find your own happiness.
If your new family embraces you with warmth, cherish them with all your heart.
Protect them.
Endure… by whatever means you must.
One day…
I will come to you.
Sister.
I miss you.]
My plea, born of sincerity… you who dwell within the darkness, who watch over the depth of night beneath the scatter of stars and the pale glow of the moon.
O ancient myth that has endured through countless ages.
Sovereign of the dark.
Watcher of the starlit heavens.
Exalted fairy of the night.
The fairest.
The most radiant of all that has ever been.
Hear me.
Asteria.
Carry these words to her.
James's lips curved faintly, as though guided by a silent rhythm unseen. In that very moment, a soft whisper echoed within his ears, gentle yet unmistakably clear, as though it came from a place beyond mortal reach.
[James Wieser]
His eyes changed.
The Sharingan opened, casting a crimson gleam that pierced the darkness, his gaze lifting toward the cloud-veiled night sky.
And there…
Something appeared.
The image of a young maiden.
Her beauty surpassed anything he had ever beheld, clad in a white gown that seemed woven from light itself. Translucent wings spread gracefully upon her back. A gentle smile adorned her face, warm… understanding.
Only for an instant.
A fleeting few seconds.
Yet it was enough.
Enough for him to understand that not all myths were born from tales meant to lull children to sleep.
A myth may endure… because once, it was truth.
This world was filled with wonders.
Truths that once stood firm thousands of years ago could be buried by time, worn away by the long passage of history, until they became nothing more than stories carried from one voice to another.
The proofs that once bore witness had long since turned to bone, buried deep within the silent earth.
What remained… were stories.
And belief.
The fairy's voice came once more, for the final time, soft yet resonant.
[I have heard you, son of Layla Wieser]
Thank you.
Asteria.
***
Irene gazed toward her husband, who stood unmoving upon the balcony. His figure seemed steadfast within the embrace of night, his broad, bare shoulders impossible to ignore.
On any other night, she would have already drawn near, teasing him without restraint, touching him freely, as though to remind him that he belonged wholly to her.
But tonight was different.
Since she had awakened so suddenly, the air around her had felt heavy… suffocating, even to her.
The look upon her husband's face before he stepped out onto the balcony lingered clearly in her memory.
Sadness.
And something deeper still.
Guilt.
Now he stood in silence, his gaze fixed upon the star-filled sky. The night breeze stirred his hair, loosening his night robe slightly, revealing the firm lines of muscle along his back.
Time passed.
Yet he did not turn.
Nor did he speak.
A faint bitterness crept into Irene's chest, disturbing the calm she had tried to maintain. The curiosity she had held back now began to surface, prodding at her thoughts without cease.
I do not wish to know.
And yet… I am his wife.
And he has given his word.
Nothing more shall be hidden from me.
Not since the truth of the bloodline he passed to our daughter… to all our children… was laid bare.
Or is there still more?
Is there yet a part of him that remains hidden within the shadows?
I wish to know, my husband.
Your burdens are mine.
Your troubles belong to me as well.
Your sorrow… I shall hear it, and bear it beside you.
My husband.
The man I love above all else in this world.
Her heart trembled.
I wish to hold you.
To see you standing there, composed, yet concealing something that gnaws at you from within… it will not allow me to remain still.
I wish to stand at your side.
To support you.
To be the place where you may rest.
To hear every burden you keep locked within your heart.
Irene stepped forward, slowly.
Each step felt heavy, laden with unspoken emotion.
Her emerald-green eyes lingered upon her husband's back for a moment, holding countless feelings that found no voice.
Then, without hesitation, she drew near.
Her arms slipped around his waist, holding him close, embracing a warmth that felt at once near… and distant.
"My husband."