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As he woke up in Alexandria’s dorms, Justus had everything ready. For once, Ferdinand did not want to get out of bed. His body felt heavy, his mind tired as if he was an infant firefly who was ordered to become as fast as a sparrow and then, to catch up with a shooting star. Schlaftraum clearly worked hard on the traumatizing nightmares he just woke up from. Perhaps it was Dregarnuhr’s and Wentuche’s mischief, as if fate decided to hunt him down and collect the debt of all his sins.
There was a time during his Royal Academy days when his older brother, Sylvester, started taking a bite of every dish whenever Ferdinand ate in the castle. It was his brother’s way of protecting him from Veronica’s poisoning attempts. Before that, however, every dinner was like a slow, theatrical suspense scene. His father would pretend not to see, always ready to cover his beloved, pitiful wife. Sylvester was too blind and ignorant to see, and Karstedt could not do anything. Bonifatius, his uncle, never approved of Ferdinand, no matter how hard he worked. To him, Ferdinand was a hidden danger, a threat. Veronica watched over him silently, as if afraid she would lose even a moment of the spectacle of his death. Her eyes were sharp, but not like a hawk's. She had vulture eyes, waiting to eat her prey’s rotten corpse. To Ferdinand, every meal was a slow dance with death: each step, each move increased the tension; fear would crept into his heart whenever his dance partner decided to touch his skin; the lingering pressure of the reaper’s presence and attention, a stark contrast to the environment and its mood as his Father watched Sylvester to gush about the lovely Florencia of Frenbeltag. Sometimes, Veronica would not even poison him. She just pretended to do it so she could delight herself in the mental torture of him. On those dark days, he faithfully prayed to the gods for a miracle. Death was the only goddess who ever answered his calls.
Ferdinand could not help but feel like he would have one of those dinners once again tomorrow. In her fifth academy year, Rozemyne, now Aub Alexandria, gave the idea of creating a musical presentation in the Interduchy Tournament. An artistic version of the Ditter event. In that same year, Ferdinand presented, on behalf of Alexandria, a love song dedicated to Rozemyne. While normally it would only allow students to participate, since it was conceived in the middle of the term, adults were allowed in the first iteration of the event.
The problem? Now Rozemyne has finished her last year and will graduate. Everyone currently knew she did not save the duchy because she loves him. He was the fool in love, and she did not even realize it. He asked for her answer in this event, as the whole country will pay attention to her presentation to judge whether Ewigeliebe had reached Geduldh as Ferdinand’s song said. Just like those haunting dinners, his brother won’t be able to do anything as the whole country watches him with the same greedy, evil eyes Veronica had as he ate slowly, unsure of what the terrible-tasting meal would cause.
The Interduchy Tournament would start today and, with it, the first official iteration of the event. Dunkelfelger was the most on board with the proposal last year, once Mestionora’s Avatar explained how ditter would become even more interesting with an extra time to prepare after seeing their opponents fight. “Would you reveal all your cards to the opponents on the first day just to fail miserably on the second?” With just a little taunt, the Land of Fire’s flames became even more alight.
“Perhaps you should not have drunk so much with your brother and cousin late in the night, Lord Ferdinand,” Lasfam remarked. After Rozemyne’s support, Ferdinand was encouraged to come one night early to have a drinking party with Sylvester and Karstedt. She said it was not a problem, especially considering how she had tea parties with Elvira and Florencia, not to mention the ones with the gods.
“Hmm,” was the only thing that left his mouth.
With great efficiency, his attendants prepared Ferdinand, and he descended to have breakfast with his fiancée.
As always, there were no fancy greetings. Ferdinand and Rozemyne were too used to each other’s company, and Rozemyne, in particular, always hated these long ass noble greetings. He still remembers how Alexandria’s nobles were surprised during Alexandria and Ehrenfest’s tea party in the last Archduke Conference. No noble speech, no greetings, it was completely casual.
“I hate these formalities, and Sylvester hates them also.” It was her excuse. His brother was obviously supporting the idea, especially after he realized he could tease Ferdinand in such an informal setting.
“Ferdinand, are you okay?” Rozemyne asked, worried about him as he sat at the table for breakfast.
“Worry not, Rozemyne. I only drank too much yesterday. Being in the Holy Land so close to the gods also gives me some unease. They have been quite meddling. I’m worried they might give us more problems,” he lied.
“Are you sure?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Ferdinand smiled. His betrothed seemed to accept his answer, as she did not insist on it.
They ate their breakfast in peace and had small talk: books, research, divine meddling, only light conversation subjects on a random morning.
Bells later, the Interduchy Tournament had already started. Ferdinand was watching the ditters as he awaited their end. After the first half of the games, the music competition would begin.
Soon, the bell rang, and the last match of the day was completed. Now, everyone would have some spare time to eat before it truly started. Ferdinand was eating with Rozemyne, though his mind was in another place entirely.
“Why is Damuel here?” Ferdinand asked under the eavesdropping tool.
“I asked the gods for help so that my birth family and commoner associates could watch my music presentation, the whirling, and the graduation ceremony,” she said with a smile. “I asked him to come as they are more at ease with Damuel, and…”
“And?”
“I would rather not leave them to Hartmut or Clarissa. The only other option would be Cornelius, but he also wants to watch it as my brother. He will be with Mother, in fact.”
Rozemyne explained how she pulled many gods into her plan so that the commoners could watch it as well. It was quite complicated, considering the gods would have a hard time finding their threads in the weave. ‘The fact that they agreed despite how annoying it would be and how it helped them in nothing is what is worrying me here.’ Elvira and Cornelius will be there, as her family. Only a select few will be able to see them. Despite that, they might be uncomfortable in this place. Elvira and Cornelius won’t be with them all the time. To make things comfortable for them, she asked Damuel to keep them company and keep their distance from others.
Ferdinand was always surprised by the extent of her efforts for those she cherished. She is, more literally than metaphorically, moving heaven and earth for them. ‘That’s her common sense…’ He thought, realizing just how different things were through her eyes.
After some small talk, Rozemyne excused herself and went to the room where those who are going to perform wait. The first few were average, considering the duchy’s ranking— at least in Ferdinand’s opinion. Soon, it was finally time for Rozemyne’s presentation. The whole place became silent with even the laynobles being acutely aware of the importance of this song. He could see Damuel explaining the situation to his in-laws and her associates.
Rozemyne was alone with her retainers as the performers had a special waiting room. She walked like she belonged to a better world. Many knights carried all sorts of items with them. Considering the situation, Ferdinand believed they were musical instruments from her dreamworld.
His head attendant, feeling his unease, touched his shoulder softly and said, “Do not worry, Milord. I believe everyone will get their deserved end,” Justus tried to cheer his lord up.
If that’s the case, Justus, I do not deserve even the mercy of a painful death.
ೃ✧ -`☯´- ೃ✧
Even as he walked towards Ehrenfest’s tea room, Ferdinand could not help but feel a might of the scorching ice leaving both burning and frostbite in his churning stomach and lungs whose food and air could now only despite. Rozemyne’s insistence the previous year was proven right.
Ferdinand’s memories walked to the Interduchy Tournament of the previous year, where he did not want to have a drinking night with Sylvester and Karstedt, as it would be considered improper. An Aub and his knight commander are drinking with another duchy’s consort without any retainers. And yet, she insisted he should go.
“It’s something you like doing, Ferdinand. You are allowed to enjoy your life, y’know? What would be the point of living, otherwise?” She asked, as if it were really that obvious, completely oblivious to how many of their retainers had begun reviewing their own lives.
“But others—”
“To the Shadow Realm with others, Ferdinand.” She rolled her eyes at his (and nobility as a whole) insistence about other people’s opinions.
“What’s the Shadow Realm?” He asked, curious.
“It’s a realm where Wentuchte refuses to weave and Dregarnuhr does not allow her threads to spin. It’s Chaocipher’s personal realm, where the souls of the worst sinners are trapped and where they pay for their sins. Veronica’s soul will be taken to that place.” She explained, surprising not only Ferdinand but their retainers as well.
“Still—” It was tough to argue otherwise. Ferdinand missed the drinking nights with his brother and cousin. Now, any alcohol he consumed gave him this weird bittersweetness that lingered in the tongue like sadness with a joyful aftertaste. Rozemyne said it was called nostalgia.
“If anyone bothers you about you spending time with your brother and cousin , just ask them what god or goddess they like the most.”
“Why?”
“So that I can incarnate them and have the deity give them a good scolding.”
“Can you do that?” He felt his headache sprout as if Bluanfah had planted trombe seeds in his head.
“Yes, I can incarnate or call upon any deity. I never did it because Mestionora is very possessive. The gods would not want to deal with her tantrums as well. I can hardly imagine you would care about picking a fight with her, so…”
In the end, it worked because Ferdinand was so baffled by the news that he needed to complain about the gods’ meddling while drinking with Sylvester and Karstedt.
Now, a year later, Ferdinand would do the same, once again. They will likely be prepared, considering everyone was aware of the importance of her performance. Everyone, but Rozemyne herself. Luckily, her retainers hinted to her that, and besides, Ferdinand also had his request to receive her answer as a song.
“Ferdinand! Welcome!” Sylvester said and walked towards Ferdinand, ready for a hug. He was happy to see his little brother, but the sky-blue-haired man could notice the shaking, distressed light in the older man’s eyes and the nail markings on his palm.
“You should wait for the retainers to do their job and leave the room, Aub Ehrenfest .”
“I can hardly think it matters when it’s just us. Our retainers should be used by now. Maybe not your new ones… but still. I have permission from the Divine Avatar of Mestionora.” He said, masking his inner feelings before a teasing smirk was forcefully drawn on his face. “Don’t you know that, my dear son-in-law ?”
Ferdinand scoffed as Sylvester had his fill of teasing.
“You should not reprimand your Father-in-law like you did before, son-in-law .” Karstedt joined the teasing. Their retainers just chuckled at the situation— even his new ones. As both Rozemyne’s father and adopted father, Ferdinand became their son-in-law. The teasing material was so great and the temptation was so big that even Karstedt could not help but give in to his desires. Eckhart was obviously over the moon when he realized that.
“So, how are you feeling, Ferdinand?” Sylvester asked after the drinks were served, the eavesdropping area tool was activated, and their retainers left.
“I feel some unease…” He admitted.
Ferdinand had to work really hard to court her. It took some time to realize that noble speech was completely out of question. Then, the time travel happened. He was sure Mestionora toyed with his thread just to make things worse; there is no other explanation. After Rozemyne returned, she looked at him as if he were her son. She did not even see him as a man anymore; it was utterly humiliating, especially when she talked about her “Ferdinangel.” The man was torn between envying and pitying his younger self.
“Speaking of which, where is Rozemyne? I heard she arrived yesterday.” Karstedt asked.
Because of the musical competition, the Interduchy Tournament’s duration increased by a day. It was half music and half ditter in the first two. Rozemyne, however, came a day early because she had a tea party in the Divine Realm in the morning, something he loathed attending, despite her invitation and encouragement.
“Did something happen at that tea party?” Karstedt asked. “She met Elvira before dinner today, and Elvira was… enraged to say the least.” Florencia, Elvira, Rozemyne, and Charlotte had dinner together on the same day the men had their drinking night.
Could the gods have meddled once again?
“What happened, Karstedt?” Sylvester encouraged the man to speak. It could be important to Ferdinand, after all.
“Apparently… Rozemyne gave her something from the gods. A report about her life and… Elvira was far from pleased by how her daughter was treated, and I believe she will be very vocal from now on. Nothing that would give problems for both duchies, but, to us personally, it will be a long-term headache.”
“Why now?” Ferdinand frowned.
“Elvira always felt guilty about the fact that she considers Myne her daughter because of how nobility took her away from Effa. She felt like she had no right to claim it. Otherwise, she would have claimed Rozemyne was her daughter instead of Rosemary’s, not soon after the baptism.”
“But she had already been named Rozemyne.” Sylvester pointed out.
“Well… that could be explained by our mothers: Rosangela and Rozalina.” Rosa, Rose, and variations were common among nobility, especially a few years back. “She chose to use Roze in her daughter's name as she was the first daughter of Linkberg and Father’s first female descendant. A tribute to both our mothers as well.”
“Is it because of something they talked about? Maybe because Rozemyne can be Myne again?” Ferdinand asked.
“No… in the report, it said that Myne’s existence is a divine intervention. She would not be born otherwise. Geduldh handpicked Elvira to be her mother, but something happened, and they had to change. To make sure they would meet again, Geduldh used her powers to modify Myne’s blood. She has two biological fathers and two biological mothers: Gunther and Effa, Me and Elvira. Not just that, but Gunther and Effa are the reincarnation of her past life’s biological parents.”
Both brothers stared at their cousin with their eyes widened. ‘Can they even do that?’
“According to Elvira, they also explained to her that she was, in fact, abused, and the rumors Georgine spread were not exactly wrong.”
“What lies are they concocting?” Sylvester slammed his fist in protest.
“It doesn’t seem like a lie to me… they seemed to explain our sides as well, at the very least.”
“I might not have seen her as my daughter, but she has memories of being an adult and can even talk as an equal to Ferdinand. Ever since that spring prayer I participated in, she felt more like a little sister than a daughter. Surely they cannot be nitpicking that much?”
Ferdinand was not surprised by Sylvester’s declaration. Myne had pointed out to him how he, his brother, and his cousin always felt more like three blood brothers than anything, especially considering how nobility treated blood relationships. She did not say blood brothers, she said that “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”
They had a tea party with Ehrenfest last year, and he spoke about her relationship with his brother and recalled all of their memories together. Sylvester had her as one of his confidantes, like him or Karstedt. Sylvester’s actual children never saw his true self. Since she said they were like brothers… it would not be out of place for Sylvester to consider her his sister and vice-versa— at least in their minds.
“It’s not about that, Sylvester…” Karstedt had some parts of the report copied by his own hand.
While the brothers read, their reactions were rich: each new sentence was a new low. In the end, their hands were in their heads and their faces on the table.
“You don’t think that…” Ferdinand could not continue.
“Calm down, brother.” Sylvester interrupted him. “Rozemyne would have said something by now, right? Even if you are Ewigeliebe, she is not as submissive as Geduldh.” His brother said it seriously, without any mirth or teasing from his part.
“I probed Elvira about it and, according to her, that did not change Rozemyne’s answer.”
“See? Things are not that complicated, brother!” Sylvester cheered him.
I’m not sure if this is a relief, honestly. She could just be even more bent on rejecting him if that was her answer.
“Oh, Sylvester, she also gave me some intel for you.”
Sylvester froze. “Wh–What?”
“Your children and Florencia learned about Rozemyne’s origins. Elvira talked to them about the report, too.”
“SHE DID WHAT?” Ferdinand and Syvester yelled in unison. Even if she had the gods as her backing and people knew they were real now…
“They discovered about her origins on their own. It was not hard for Charlotte to pick up the differences in the priests' and maidens' stories. Elvira also said that our story was poorly crafted. People only believed it because Rosemary was always sick, and no one ever minded the temple. Any fool could discover the truth. It was also one of the reasons she never believed it, apart from the household records, and did some digging of her own. According to her… apart from a few of Georgine’s namesworn, no one believed she was a commoner. She had too much mana, she was too smart, too well-connected, and was first-in-class back-to-back. Veronicans only used that as a slander because, to them, temple-raised nobles are commoners regardless of their circumstances. The only reason why they never approached this subject was that the grey priests said she could still see her birth family in the temple.”
Ferdinand’s face blanched. It would be easy to pick the holes in the stories. Hartmut did that. ‘I should have checked things better… maybe the jureve would never have happened in that way…’
“Wait… was it why they were cold to me when I excused myself to come here?” Sylvester asked with his eyes widened. It was already hard for both him and Karstedt once they discovered Myne’s noble education. They were enraged, they said she was too busy for it, and then scolded her for her mistakes.
“Why does it matter if she did not want to do it? Did you even explain to her why it was necessary? Would you keep Lord Wilfried from learning how to read and write just because he thought it was useless? She thought all noble education was the few things I taught her before her baptism! She is a child, for god’s sake!” Elvira’s words hung again and again in Karstedt’s ears.
“Yes… Cornelius is also mad.” Karstedt proceeded to explain how Hartmut told Cornelius after Rozemyne’s third year, and how the boy asked Myne to be her big brother. He was also happy to discover they were actually siblings, not that it would change anything about that overprotective man.
That would explain why he always looked at me like he was about to shove Ewigeliebe’s Sword against my mana organ.
“Still, from what I could gather from Elvira, I believe she will accept you, Ferdinand. Rozemyne does not need to love you outright, just a sown raffel is already enough. You will just need to finish the farming job.” Karstedt chuckled, imagining Ferdinand as a farmer. “You can also use it to apologize for the past. The past is the past, Ferdinand. Only Dregarnuhr can send someone to fix it, and I doubt she would do it unless necessary… or if Myne changed her mind and asked.”
“What about that last part…?” Sylvester asked.
“It seems like the goddess offered Myne to go back. She did not accept it even though she could come back to being a commoner and have a better life.”
The new information did help Ferdinand to quell some of his unease, but not everything, damn, not even three-quarters of it.
“See, Ferdinand? Things are going to be alright. There is no need to worry about!” Sylvester tried to cheer him up.
“Say that again, trying to defend yourself to your children and first wife after what they learned about Rozemyne,” Karstedt said, his words punching his Lord’s face. The blueish-purple-haired man’s face paled. He already knew his children would pick Rozemyne over him any day of the week.
The three men continued their playful banter, each trying to ease the other two’s worries with a greater focus on Ferdinand due to the importance of the following day: an event the whole country would be watching.
Later that night, Ferdinand went back to his room in the Alexandria dorms. His heartbeat quickens with every step. Countless questions were swirling in his mind as he felt like a firefly standing before Schutzaria’s infuriated hurricanes. The price of his past actions and the chance that the consequences might cost him his dream made everything around him so bleak. Ferdinand knew better than anyone that sometimes “love” is not enough, especially when the road gets tough. It did not matter how much he tried; whenever he was about to sleep, he started drowning himself in those memories. He felt like a little child, trying to take what he could get, scared that he would not find any answers. For the first time in a long time, he took a sleep potion. Nightmares with Veronica and Adalgisa were far better than whatever hell he was feeling right now.
ೃ✧ -`☯´- ೃ✧
His heart swelled in pain. The doubt that eroded his mind as it gnawed on his brain kept whispering the cacophony of his greatest fears. All his heart broke every second it passed. Ferdinand looked up, seeing the bright blue sky. He felt he warmth of the summer as the sun hugged his body, but with a cold and sweet breeze that kissed his hair. He looked down and saw an ocean of bright, sacred water with waves that refused to wash his legs. Ferdinand looked south and saw the trail from which he came, the same trail that divided both beaches. The man walked to the shore, towards the beach in the south, tired of walking on the water and waiting by the golden sand. The very same water that moved him to create the sleeping potions. He yearned for those waters. He thought, for a moment, that he would be allowed to swim in that sea in his dreams. Ferdinand felt like a side character in a book. One who only moved to the author’s whims and in their convenience, ready to be discarded at any moment. Ferdinand was tired; he was exhausted from sleepwalking on the ocean of happiness he could not baptize himself in.
On that beach, in the south, he could feel it. The withering hope, dying in the sands of time, with the smell of arid despair, was what composed the shore of that beach. His nose twitched at this putrid smell, worse than anything he had ever smelled. There was no summer warmth or cold, sweet winds. The sky was dark red. Its hemorrhage was what filled the oceans with blood drawn after timeless and immemorial torture of the most pure of the hearts. The atmosphere was static, apart from the rotting air exhaled by the dying corpses of the greatest sinners, of course. Ferdinand trembled as his bare feet touched the bloodied seas. This time, it sank. With his head down and blood tears pouring out from the faucets of his eyes, he walked towards the depths of that ocean. The pressure was overwhelming, like claiming a place in a world you were never meant to exist, much less belong to begin with. In the depths, withered piranhas appeared to eat his living flesh and drink his fresh blood until there was nothing but his skeleton. The hollow auditorium of his chest swounds with the breathless echoes of a dreaming, dying heartbeat. His mouth became a boneyard after eras of his teeth clenching and biting themselves. His very self turned into the forgotten fossils of an ancient sunken city in the depths of an ocean of weeping blood. After a deep breath, he returned to reality.
Did she create new instruments just to dump me? Why can’t she just dust me like she did to the ditterhead and the fool prince?
Once they positioned the instruments, they left. While all wondered how she would play so many instruments by herself, Rozemyne took many schtappes and transformed each one of them into a different divine instrument. With a quick math, Ferdinand inferred she had all the instruments with her.
They moved on her command, seemingly resonating with each other. The skies turned pitch black until a huge moon appeared. All darkness swirled around the moon, creating an overwhelming light. From the light, the gods descended, ready to watch her. They stayed in the sky. Maybe due to mana, maybe because it was their rightful place.
Once all deities were ready, they pointed their hands towards Myne, shooting their powers at her. Mana surrounded her as Wentuchte weaved it into an otherworldly dress depicting all seven colors with great prominence of black and gold. Kunstzeal took her off her makeup and hairdo. Once finished, her skin sparkled slightly as her hair shone in endless darkness and her eyes darkened in bright light.
It was as if Verbergen took his cloak. There were not many changes, but Yurgenschmidt felt like they were seeing this young woman for the first time. Many eyes shining and cheeks blushing.
The darkness descended from the sky and engulfed everything. All mortals had been taken into a special space. The night sky existed up and down, north and south, east and west. Under Rozemyne, however, there was grass. Beautiful grass and flowers have never been seen before. The one with dark wood and pink petals was particularly showy. Ferdinand believed it was sakuras, Rozemyne’s favorite flowers from her past life.
Aub Alexandria took a deep breath with her eyes closed. Once she opened, Rozemyne was in her saint mode. It always baffled Ferdinand how she could suddenly become the epitome of finesse and grace in one moment and go back to her silly, goofy self in the other. His fiancée was in a whirling posture, one that Ferdinand recognized as a divine whirling she had learned in the heavens. Apparently, there are eight types of whirling: one for each of the Seven and another for the heavens as a whole. The latter was, obviously, far more beautiful and absurdly harder. Considering all the gods are present, Rozemyne would go for the latter.
With a blessing from the gods, the instruments were played by their power. It was different from everything the mortal realm — or the divine realm — had ever heard. Rozemyne’s divine voice resounded clearly to all those present.
I want you to stay
‘Til I’m in the grave
‘Til I rot away, dead and buried
‘Til I’m in the casket you carry
If you go, I’m going too, uh
‘Cause it was always you, alright
And if I’m turning blue, please don’t save me
Nothing left to lose without my baby
Her voice charmed all those present as they lost themselves in this experience. Be it in the new sounds, in her voice, or in her appearence. From the first verses, Ferdinand’s heart relaxed, thinking it could be a love song as well, but he soon hardened it. Ít was better to be safe than sorry.
Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know
I said I’d never think I wasn’t better alone
Can’t change the weather, might not be forever
But if it’s forever, it’s even better
And I don’t know what I’m cryin’ for
I don’t think I could love you more
It might not be long, but baby, I
I’ll love you ‘til the day that I die
‘Til the day that I die
‘Til the light leaves my eyes
‘Til the day thay I die
Ferdinand’s heart skipped a beat once he realized what was happening: she accepted his feelings. Part of it was still unsure if she reciprocated them, but thought it had great chances due to the song’s verses. Voices exactly like Rozemyne’s came from the flower buds around her after they bloomed.
While Rozemyne looked like Mestionora, her poise and elegance in the whirling were beyond perfect. Ferdinand had seen her dancing this particular whirling before, but could see she had modified a few things herself, likely from dances from her dreamworld. Her charms began shining one by one after her ring glowed. The divine crown and cloak also awakened.
I want you to see, hm
How you look to me, hm
You wouldn’t believe if I told ya
You would keep the compliments I throw ya
But you’re so full of shit, uh
Tell me it’s a bit, no
Say you don’t see it, your mind’s polluted
Say you wanna quit, don’t be stupid
And I don’t know what I’m cryin’ for
I don’t think I could love you more
Might not be long, but baby, I
Don’t wanna say goodbye
It was only then that Ferdinand noticed how she was singing bluntly. No euphemisms or anything. It was direct, like her. ‘Was it like how the songs of her dreamworld were?’ As if hit by a sudden realization, his eyes widened slightly. ‘She is not singing as Rozemyne, but as Myne.’
Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know (‘til the day that I die)
I said I’d never think I wasn’t better alone (‘til the light leaves my eyes)
Can’t change the weather, might not be forever (‘til the day I die)
But if it’s forever, it’s even better
I knew you in another life
You had that same look in your eyes
I love you, don’t act so surprised
She looked perfect. She looked more than perfect—those shining eyes, that damned smile. Her hair, made from the part of the sky that became the day; her eyes, made from two of the three moons that once brightened the night. Pink soft lips that would put any color Efflorelume could bless upon a flower to shame. Soft, fair skin — now with a bit of a healthy pink — just like the winter couple. A fire that would make Leidenschaft look like the God of Sparks and an unwavering protection over others that Schutzaria’s winds would be a breeze, but Myne a hurricane. The power to bring such a powerful, wide-scale healing and change that Flutrane would be the Goddess of Water Drops. Ewigeliebe would hide Geduldh even if Rozemyne were a woman just for safety. The King of Endless Skies would shield his wife from such a vision as Myne irradiated both light and darkness. In this moment, Ferdinand could not get mad at the gods for wanting to see such a mesmerizing sight.
On the last three verses, Rozemyne stared at his eyes as she sang. Kindness, joy, warmth, love. A myriad of feelings she showed him. He felt his blood boiling in ecstasy. After all, when you are truly awesome, you know it’s actually a burden and wish day after day to be released from such a curse. Just think of any superhero. Veronica said that he should show his worth to receive Adelbert’s favor, and Ferdinand did exactly that. With time, he became the Lord of Evil, the Demon King. To his brother and cousin, he was the perfect noble, to his retainers, their perfect master. He made that his identity, but did not know back then that being perfect is really tiring. He felt that people loved him for what they saw in him. He could only fight battles he could win because a defeat would mean losing his status as being perfect. He would lose the foundation on which he created his identity. Sometimes, he just wanted to do his research. He wanted to have fun. He yearned to be someone, someone for himself. He was, however, too scared that if he tried, he would not be as good as how he, the “Perfect Nobleman”, should be. He was so afraid of being himself and so unsure of who he actually was, of being human, that he believed no one would actually love him. It was hard to believe that someone would not leave. Ferdinand’s reflection in her eyes, however, seemed so free. There was never a feystone, a lowly bastard, or an overcompetent noble there. Only him, only Ferdinand. She saw him as a person. As the person he was, the person he would like to be, she accepted and welcomed him anyway. Just like how she said love was supposed to be: like two warm hands open.
As she finished the presentation, a huge omni-elemental blessing surged from her towards him as a gentle wind came from behind her. Rozemyne fixed a few strayed hairs from Schutzaria’s mischief as she beamed a smile that could light up the whole country just for him while her cheeks flushed slightly.
There, she was the moment. She was every moment. She was the measure of a thousand winds and the sun and the moon. The gauge of the summer’s warmth, the winter’s longing, the spring’s beauty, and the autumn’s harvests. She was every second of joy, every moment of rage, every instant of longing, every minute of obsession. She was every flash of delirium.
He was mesmerized, but everything stopped when a frost mana touched his arm and an ancient, terrifying mana touched the other, awakening him from his stupor. He instinctively knew it was the God of Life and the God of Darkness. Once Ferdinand looked around, he noticed how many nobles passed out or cried. It was even worse than at his concert. He might be great, but he was still on the mortal level. Rozemyne? It was unfair. That was not what Ferdinand was thinking, however, but how men and women alike were affected.
Could this be why Ewigeliebe took Geduldh’s subordinates despite them being all female?
Ferdinand suppressed the thought as soon as he came. He had more important things to do right now: Rozemyne was still smiling. Other people should not be allowed to see it! For the first time, Ferdinand could understand why the God of Darkness hides the Goddess of Light under his cape, and it is not just romance. ‘Maybe divine wisdom can be used by mortals as well…’ He thought. Ferdinand would never admit he had some kinship with the King of the Endless Skies and the God of Life in that moment. He could understand their feelings and teachings.
Doesn’t Myne say I am allowed to have my desires fulfilled? Surely she would not get mad, right?
The cold fire burning his whole body was too much to bear, especially after Ewigeliebe’s interference. Ferdinand walked quickly towards Rozemyne, hiding her under his cloak, with one hand embracing her hips and pulling her closer.
“Ferdinand?” She asked, completely unaware of her own beauty and its effects.
Ferdinand did not reply; he merely pulled her into a kiss.
I can truly understand the God of Darkness and the God of Life a little better now.
It was not fair what they did to her. It was not fair what he lived through either. These things were not comparable. They were both painful. A lot of things are like that. He could not be guilty or angry all the time because of the past. He should try to make things better with what he has now, and right now, he has a lot; more than any other man, mortal or divine, in the whole world. As Rozemyne once said, “Live in life and die in death. Follow your heart and do what you can.”
Perhaps that was the greatest thing that Myne ever taught him: to be a little reckless, a little passionate, and to have agency over his own life. Maybe he could write a book one day, because when we tell stories, no matter how bad they are, we don’t belong to them anymore. They become ours. Perhaps what growing up really means is knowing that you don’t have to be just a character, going whichever way the story says. It’s knowing that you could be the author instead.
If only he could visit his younger self, the one who feared every dinner in the castle, and tell all that. Ferdinand could talk about the research laboratories, her innovations, the books, and the library. The way her eyes closed ever so slightly and her head cocked as she laughed. Like how he became a star surrounding a sun. How he would be seen, how he would be loved, how he would glow. Ferdinand would talk about how many people envy him countrywide and how little to few people have this chance. He would tell his younger self how no one would get to be as happy as he was, and there would be a day when he would not want to burn up anymore. He would tell him that one day, he would finally drown in the ocean of happiness. All because of that sickly, shumil-looking girl who bewitched his mind, heart, body, and soul. As Ferdinand felt the softness of her lips and the sweetness of her kiss, if only he could, he wished to live eternally in that instant.
And maybe… just maybe… that is what being in love does. So that a life, a person, a moment you need to keep, stays with you into infinity.
ೃ✧ -`☯´- ೃ✧
After Rozemyne’s presentation in the Mortal Realm, the gods were all talking about it in the Supreme Couple’s palace.
“Mestionora, dear… It’s been so long since you visited your old man…” Ewigeliebe cried once again after being banned from her library.
No deity tried to put some sense into their princess anymore. Ewigeliebe often gushed about his little girl. “Look at my baby girl, isn’t she the cutest?” “Little Mesti is so smart!” He always treated her as if she were his little girl, which was not exactly wrong. Until one day…
“Mesti, what are those extra rooms in your library for?”
“Oh, for my future children, Father.”
“You want more dolls? It’s been so long since you asked me to sculpt for you!” He was happy to create toys for her once again.
“No, Father. I mean my actual children, once I marry.”
“Wh–What? You? Marry? Who? You’re just a child!”
“I’m thirteen, Father! I… I want to marry Erwaermen.” She declared, not so subtly asking for her Father’s approval.
“...” The poor man was completely in shock that his little girl, who wasn’t so little and would soon no longer be a girl.
Mestionora, however, took it as her Father not approving the decision. She banned him from her library and stopped visiting him since then, much to his grief. It’s not like Erwaermen could help, as he was busy reinforcing the foreign god’s seal.
“If you have so much free time, should you not deal with Ferdinand? Look at how he is to Myne!”
No one dared to say that that mortal is to Myne what Mestionora is to Erwaermen. They are very much alike in many aspects. Which is quite comical, considering how they hate each other.
“How could those humans do that to me? I worked so hard for everyone!” Chaocipher cried while hugging Gebordnung’s chest.
“It’s not that much, Cipher, we just need to correct them,” the Goddess of Chaos’s older brother, the God of Darkness, said.
“Please… they are saying I cursed Ewigeliebe because I wanted to marry you ! How is it not that much?”
“I understand it’s weird to marry a married person, your relative, no less, but—”
“Why would I ever marry a man ? No offense, brother, but the only good thing you have is an exquisite taste in women. My sister-in-law is incredible. I wouldn’t mind if they were saying I wanted to marry her. I would prefer they said I was married to my actual wife, however.” She complained. Flutrane looked at her aunt with a pitying gaze, nodding as if understanding her woes of mortals saying they want to marry men .
The God of Darkness flinched at his sister’s words and at how easily she said them. His wife, the Goddess of Light, just giggled at their banter.
“Nung, should you not cheer your wife a little?” The Queen of the Endless Skies said to her own little sister, Gebordnung, the Goddess of Order.
“Yes, indeed,” she nodded. “Don’t worry, dear. I will give you extra attention tonight.” Gebordnung said with a little smirk. Then, the goddess felt an incredible power suppressing her own, as if all the earth was pressing down.
“My dear Aunt, do not say such profanities in front of my daughter, if you may,” Geduldh said, her words with terrifying coldness. All deities looked at the other way; no one wanted to face the Goddess of Earth’s unreasonable wrath.
“Ah… my wife is so hot when she is angry.” Ewigeliebe’s voice, brimming with the warmth of a thousand blooming flowers, echoed in the room as his face had some color to it.
“Pl–Please, go get a room,” Mestionora said, flushed at her grandaunts’ interaction and her father’s reaction.