How long have I been here? It feels like the void is slowly consuming me... I don't remember what happened when I was captured, but I know I didn't go through good times... I just hope my little Sara is well, she is much more important than this old woman...
With each passing moment, the black abyss starts to swallow me more and more. I tried using all my strength, tried using my entire being to escape this dark world and wake up, but nothing was enough.
My entire body felt as if it were being dragged, as if my soul were being chewed; I only felt a bad sensation... I want to die.
These thoughts have not just crossed my mind recently; ever since Sara grew up, I've been thinking about this... Is this really what I want?
I didn't have a childhood, barely got to be a child, had no parents, I don't even know if I did a good job as a mother. I wanted to have been better... wanted to have done more for her... But she was born as one of the Virtues... How could I, a mere mortal, teach a demigod?
Memories invade me like specters. I see Sara, small, running through the fields, her laughter clear as the sound of bells in the wind. So many nights, endless vigils, protecting her from dangers she barely understood. I did my best to give her security, a foundation in a world that was always collapsing around us. But there was always this shadow, this sense of inadequacy.
How could a mortal be the mother of a Virtue?
The elders always told me that I was special, strong in a way no one completely understood. But what value is strength when you constantly feel insufficient? Sara needed something more than I could offer – guidance that transcends human limitations. The responsibility of raising her seemed a colossal task, a divine mission for someone who didn't even know how to be an ordinary person.
But... why am I like this? Tears rolled down my face. Why are they separating me from my daughter... everything seemed so distant. The moments we lived...
the war, the suffering, the sleepless nights... it's as if my very existence were an echo, something that's disappearing with each second. And I... I'm just a memory, a shadow trying to cling to what's left of my humanity. But perhaps, just perhaps, my time has come. Maybe I'm meant to disappear, to be forgotten, while Sara ascends to something greater, something beyond what I could imagine.
But then, something inside me refuses to surrender completely. There's a fragment of hope, a spark that reminds me of why I fought, why I tried so hard.
Sara.
My little Sara.
If there's any chance of seeing her again, of knowing she's okay after this ambush, then maybe it's worth fighting against the void that consumes me.
Maybe I'm not so insignificant.
Maybe, even in the midst of darkness, there's something I can do.
Maybe it's just an illusion, a last glimmer of hope before the end, but it's something. And it's all I need right now.
I felt something changing in the environment, as if the abyss consuming me seemed to retreat, if only for a moment. And then, as if a door had been opened in my mind, old memories began to flood my thoughts... Something I didn't remember anymore.
The first memory that hits me is of a sunny day in the Vale of Lorian.
I was small, maybe six or seven years old, running through the golden fields, laughing without worries. I remember the wildflowers dancing in the wind and the warmth of the sun on my skin.
My mother was there, her laughter soft like a distant melody. She watched me with a smile, her eyes shining with pride and love. The smell of fresh bread came from the small cabin where we lived, mixed with the fragrance of flowers. These moments, though rare, were precious.
They were the only evidence that once there was peace and happiness. It was the only really good memory I had of her... How could I have forgotten this? But of course, it would disappear quickly... being replaced by a darker scene. I was a little older, maybe ten years old?
I can't say for sure.
The war between the Murim and Demonic Alliances had begun to devastate our region. I was hiding with other children in a small cave, while the sounds of battles and screams echoed in the distance.
I remember holding a rag doll, my little Yuuma that my mother had made, I was trying to be brave, but the fear was palpable. The doll was a gift from my mother, a symbol of simpler times, and I clung to it as if it could protect me from the horrors of the outside world.
It was like watching a play about my life, I wanted to keep seeing what happened because much of it had been lost. Despite being human, I lived long enough to forget what I experienced, especially as a warrior. Things like that become trivial, but I wished I had had these memories before...
The scene shifts again, and now I am in the fields, working alongside the villagers of Orenth. I was about twelve years old, my muscles already strong from hard work, my mind hardened by the need to survive. Despite the pain and suffering, there was a sense of community, of solidarity. We were all survivors, united by adversity.
And it was in this environment that I began to hear the stories of the elders. Stories of ancient times, of heroes and peace. I drank in every word, dreaming of a different world, a world I could barely imagine.
In one of these memories, I see myself helping one of the elders, old Talia, with her medicinal herbs. She taught me how to prepare poultices and teas, her voice firm yet gentle. "Remember, Lyrianna," she said, "healing comes from nature, but true strength comes from within us." Her words were etched into my heart, even when the war took her life.
Remembering her gave me strength, reminded me that there was more to life than pain and loss.
I felt hot tears streaming down my face... Finally, I felt something, finally my body seemed to be responding, finally, I did not feel just the void.
But then, the memory that made my heart ache came – Sara as a baby.
I remember the first time I held her in my arms. Her birth was complicated because I was too strong a woman.
But she was so small, so fragile.
Her eyes shone like two stars, and I felt a wave of love so intense that it almost knocked me over. Even in the most difficult circumstances, she was my light, my hope. Every smile of hers, every wobbly step, every murmured word was a miracle. I tried so hard to protect her, to be the mother she deserved, despite all my doubts and fears.
I see myself teaching her to walk, to talk, to read. I remember her incessant questions, her insatiable curiosity. "Mommy, why is the sky blue?" "Mommy, do you think I can be a heroine?" And I always answered with patience and affection, trying to hide my own despair and uncertainty.
Every memory, every fragment of the past, gives me a little more strength. The laughter, the tears, the moments of despair and those of hope – all these remind me of who I am and what I fought to preserve. I cannot give up now. Not while there is a chance to see Sara again, to be there for her when she needs me most.
But something beyond Sara came to my mind... Yes, that man... Why are you in my mind... Dante Scarlet?
You shouldn't even be here, you have no place here... You stole my daughter from me... Why did she have to love you? Of all the people in the world, why were you destined for her?
But why can't I be angry at you? Why, even when I try and force myself to hate you...
"I like him." Sara's voice invaded my mental world, my personal abyss was invaded by that calm and sweet voice, and the memory came again.
There I was, Sara and Nagasawa sitting around the small pier by the lake. The sun was setting, painting the sky orange and gold, reflecting in the tranquil waters of the lake. It was one of those rare moments of peace amidst the storm that was our life. Sara and Nagasawa, with their bright eyes and contagious energy, talked about Dante.
"He's so strong, Mom," she said, her voice laden with admiration. "He fights as if every battle were the last, but he's also kind. When we fought, I entered Flow! Our emotions merged in the blade of the sword, just as the master said." She looked at me with an expression that combined the innocence of a child and the wisdom of someone far beyond her age.
She talked about the first duel with this man...
Why you, Dante? Why did you have to be the person Sara chose to love, to trust, even when I couldn't fully understand or accept it?
I wanted to hate him for taking Sara from me, for becoming the person she trusted more than anyone else. But I couldn't.
I couldn't because, deep down, I knew he was there for her when I couldn't be.
I want to meet you, Dante Scarlet.