I

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Arc I Prologue

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White, white, and more white as far as her eyes reached. To the horizon and beyond, her world was painted white, engulfed in nothing but unrelenting, pouring light.

Nearly blinded, her vision was limited, blurred and muddy at best. So this was the end of her road. It was a pleasure as long as it lasted. Everyone was destined to perish one day, succumbing to the irresistible passage of time. Some answered the call later. Some earlier.

Yet ... Yet she was still here, living and breathing. Her consciousness hadn't faded. Her soul hadn't fractured. Even her body had survived the ordeal.

Intense light blinded her vision, merciless and unforgiving. Her head felt heavy, dizzy. Her world was spinning like wild.

Yet the all-devouring light represented a minor annoyance, trifling matter compared to far more pressing concerns. Her current state was beyond deplorable, closer to the realm of the dead than to the world of the living.

Death was already prepared to claim his share, albeit prematurely. A girl of her tender age was too young to die. A innocent maiden of pure heart ripped far too early from life by the cruel vagrancies of fate. A tragedy for those who mourned her death. A glimmer of hope for those who cursed her name under their whispered breath.

Ultimately, she had failed her mission, and those who believed in her. Honour. Loyalty. Blood. Tears. Sacrifice. All was for naught. Perhaps we all strove for too much? In the end, the impossible, our hopes, our dreams, our visions, was never meant to be.

That was her only regret, as her whole body lay broken, unable to move.

Her legs, her arms, her muscles, her bones, an endless agony of pain and suffering befell her. Death cost her ribs. Her right femur lay shattered. Her lung punctured. Her inner organs ruptured. Her body was a living corpse beyond salvation.

Much to her surprise, a sword pierced her chest, wielded with the intent to kill. Blood stained her uniform, her blood.

What a fitting end. Those who live by the sword, will die by the sword.

But life made her a stubborn girl, a girl who refused to die. The last page of her history was not written yet. Mere steel alone could not kill her. It took forces beyond human effort to vanquish her existence.

Her hand trembled, yet it was still able to muster some force, enough force to remove the sword.

Pain shot through her body, but her iron would persist. What had to be done would be done. This would not be her end. Death didn't know her. The world didn't know her.

Fighting her surging pain, the sword moved and the blade was extracted.

Her breathing grew heavy, unsteady. Her lungs coughed blood, a constant companion, yet removing the blade proved the right decision.

The sword not only pierce her chest, but also disturbed her mana circulation. Now that her mana was flowing again, her strength returned, her magic returned. Her first victory in the afterlife.

A fine amethyst mist engulfed her body to perform its duty. Shrouded in a dark otherworldly purple, her wounds healed, her body regenerated.

Her recovery proceeded as planned. It would take time, but she saw little reason to complain. Survival was the priority, and time was in plentiful supply in the afterlife.

The burning light overwhelmed her, but her eyes adapted to the brightness. A few glances sufficed to draw her conclusions, she hated this place with pure, undiluted disgust.

Light. Light. Light everywhere. A disheartening sight. Nevertheless, the light seemed different, ... alien. It looked like light. It felt like light, but it wasn't.

And not just the light. The whole place felt wrong, infected by a strange, unknown aura. The light. The air. The aether. Nothing was as she remembered. As if this world wasn't hers.

Where was she? Wherever she looked, ashen wasteland greeted her, desolate emptiness, barren nothingness without life. Fine granular sand covered the ground.

Solitude. She was alone, completely alone, trapped in this white hell for the rest of eternity. Was this her punishment for her sins? To witness her existence whither away until the end of days?

Fortunately, fate favoured her beloved child. Not everything was lost yet, and her white hell wasn't as dead as she was made to believe. A rich, pleasant flavour permeated the air, a flavour she was only too familiar with, aether. Untapped magical potential saturated the land. This was a place filled to the brim with aether.

The elements were strong. Her senses spotted traces of wind, fire, water, ice, earth, lightning, light, and even traces of comforting darkness.

A loud crack disturbed her pristine peace. A rift opened, growing larger and larger. The boundaries of the world failed to contain the ever expanding breach. Like glass, the brittle veil of reality shattered. The world crumbled, destroyed by a purple glowing rift.

Aurora was right all along, this was not the end. This was only the beginning.

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