Chapter 59: What will you do when the Fire which staved off the Abyss fades?

Everything was a blur. For one second, Tobias saw himself attending to Clara and her fever. Then the next second, she was saying her final farewells.

And now... He found himself looking at the purple cloth-wrapped body, before it was carefully placed inside of a well-constructed, well-varnished wooden box. And in the next moment, the wooden box was carefully lifted up by two working men, before being placed in a pit of ashes. Shortly after, the pit was lit aflame.

“Listen, young man...” A voice called out, and he slowly found himself looking at a Priest. It was a different Priest – not the one he paid in order to heal her.

... That was good. Otherwise, he might not be able to restrain himself.

“I admire your decision. To witness the purifying flames of death is not something a lot of people would be willing to bear, especially not to their loved ones.”

“...”

“And now, your loved one will be taken up to the highest heavens, where they will be birthed in flames from our mighty, heavenly god up above, and once their soul is purified by fire, they would be birthed back to this world once more, as a new person.”

“...”

Bullshit.

The Priest was only reciting this practiced speech because Tobias had paid a fortune to pick out the best garments and the best coffin for Clara.

His speech wasn’t fooling anyone – especially not Tobias.

If his god up above was oh so heavenly, and oh so mighty, then why couldn’t he save Clara, then?

And as Tobias watched the growing, swirling infernal vortex in front of him consume the wooden box and the person he that he loved inside, he could only think to himself that he might have made a mistake.

It was too ironic for him to send her away through fire, when she already suffered through an incredibly terrible fever, and died because of it.

... Hah.

Even after she already died, he still fucked up.

But now that he thought about it...

He was only in here because he was enticed by the Church’s flowery words, and by all accounts, he knew that he didn’t have the capability to decide on correct decisions in his current, mental state right now.

So he began to walk away wordlessly. And when he reached the iron gates which signified the end of the church courtyard, he turned back.

The flames only grew stronger, and for the shortest while, Tobias wondered if those flames would be able to reach the heavens.

... It did not matter.

Even if Clara would be reborn, then she wouldn’t be the same. That was how it worked, right?

“T-Tobias...!” A voice called out, and he found himself turning back to face the voice. “Wait...!”

It was that white-haired girl, Sistine. This girl was... He was supposed to take care of her, right? That was what Clara had told him, after all.

“Tobias?”

Oh. He had been staring at her for far too long. But instead of her having a naturally uneasy expression, she only stared back at him with a slightly confused expression.

“... We need to leave.” He finally said, as he turned around and began to walk away. Shortly after, he heard the sounds of footsteps which weren’t his own, and he knew that she was following him close by.

...

...

... How innocent.

***

The Abyss was cold. The Abyss was lifeless. The Abyss was empty.

It was especially true, now that he didn’t have Clara in here to talk to.

It was so easy to grow used to someone’s company, yet it was so hard to get used to their disappearance...

He was pathetic. He couldn’t do anything for her. All he could do was uselessly try to stave away her death, aware that he was only making her suffer more.

Why... Why did Clara even have to die, anyways?

...

It was that man’s fault. That black hooded, white masked man, who suddenly came out of nowhere and just stabbed Clara for absolutely no reason...!

And in the next moment – he found himself pulled away from the Abyss within his mind, and saw himself back in the forest he was sleeping on.

His heart quickly beat against his chest, his own heartbeat sounding like drums inside his head. Why was it the case..? Was it because of panic? Anger? Sadness?

... He couldn’t even sleep properly anymore...

And why was there something heavy in his lap?

He looked down, found Sistine. He stared at the white-haired girl, sleeping ever so peacefully on his lap, and the only thought he had when he saw this image... Was how fragile she looked.

Clara told him to take care of Sistine. That was her last wish.

... But why did he feel nothing but resentment towards his girl? A subtle hatred – that burned and simmered deep inside his heart whenever he looked at this white-haired girl, whose mental purity seemed to reflect that of her physical appearance.

...

This innocent girl... Who knew nothing about herself, and nothing about the world...

It was incredibly unfair to think that she was a bad omen, and she might have been related to the case on why Clara died, right?

...

But why was Sistine still able to sleep so peacefully after Clara already died?

...

Tobias blinked for a second.

And when he opened his eyes, he found his hands, so terribly calloused and rough, wrapped around Sistine’s neck. For the briefest second, his mind thought that in comparison to his hands, her skin was as smooth as porcelain.

What... what exactly was he trying to do here?

... No, he knew what he was trying to do.

He was trying to take away her life, because he loathed the fact that she lived, when Clara died. But it was unfair.

Even if he killed her now, it wouldn’t change anything. It cannot change anything. Clara had already died. She was gone. Burned into flames. Claimed by Death –

... Wait.

All he had to do – was to find a way to talk to Death again, didn’t he? And then – he would be able to get Clara back, right?

This changed nothing in his plan, then.

All he needed to do was to get stronger, then.

***

It was a tense, silent journey back towards Ordbridge City. Tobias had a responsibility to do before he began his hunt for vengeance. He kept his senses sharp at all times, and kept Sistine close by his side.

Because if anything happened to her, then he knew that Clara would be disappointed.

Heartrendingly disappointed in him.

And if that happens... Then he would never be able to forgive himself.

And while reflecting to himself those past few nights, he only remembered something. The black hooded, white masked man told him something. While it was no guarantee, it was the only thing that kept him moving forwards.

“My objective here is done. Next time, I will come for her.”

It was that same line of thought, where Tobias had a realization; Clara didn’t die from some fever. What that man did to her – it was what killed her.

She was stabbed. She was healed by a healing potion. She was cured by a Priest from any illnesses, and any curse that might have been imposed on her. And yet, she still died.

What...

What was it, then?!

His hands clenched –

“T-Tobias?!” Sistine squeaked out painfully, and he remembered that he was currently holding her hand. Which meant that he accidentally clenched her hand.

“... I’m sorry.” He apologized, and let go of her hand while his gaze inspected her from afar.

Of course.

His strength, in combination with Sistine’s too perfect, too smooth skin meant that there was a bright, red hand-mark where he gripped her.

And for the first time, she looked back at him with some semblance of fear and hesitation – unlike the past few days, where she looked at him with either confusion, or pity.

And somehow, he understood that he deserved that look.

... But why exactly was she still fine with her following him, even if she was subtly shivering to herself?

***

It was pure chance – pure coincidence, that Bastille would come face-to-face with an incredibly familiar, former comrade of his. But looking at him now, the Sorcerer could see that his eyes were glazed over, and there were dark bags underneath those brown eyes of his.

His skin was also too pale, and by his side... was an unfamiliar girl that he didn’t know. Bastille looked around, and saw that Clara was nowhere to be found.

“Tobias, you...” Bastille slowly began, as he took as a step closer towards his former comrade. “Where’s Clara?”

The Sorcerer’s first thought; Did Tobias abandon Clara somewhere for this girl beside him? This white-haired, white-skinned girl in front of them was only slightly younger than the both of them, and was incredibly beautiful to the point of perfection.

It wouldn’t be surprising to learn that it was such was a case.

And the worst part was the fact that she looked like she was hesitant to be there. She looked like Tobias picked her up from the middle of nowhere, and forced her to come with him for an incredibly common, carnal reason...

Was Tobias actually a slave to his desires, after all?

“...” The former Adventurer said nothing, only raising his gaze to look at Bastille in the eye.

And that was when the Sorcerer saw. In those eyes – those eyes the color of rich, fertile soil, he could see a certain hollowness to them that he didn’t see before. In those eyes, he could see the hatred which reflected within those dark brown orbs.

And in those eyes... Bastille could only see fire burning within.

“Clara...” Tobias began, and when the Sorcerer realized that his voice was barely more than a growl, he felt a shiver run through his spine. But the girl besides him slowly touched his arm, and he turned to face her with a silent, questioning expression.

She lightly shook her head in response, and turned to face Bastille with a certain sadness that made him have an idea of what really happened.

“... Clara died.” She said, with such hesitation that only told anyone that she pushed herself to say those words.

But if this unfamiliar girl was already struggling with saying it... Then Bastille could only imagine the agony of making Tobias admit it himself.

And what she said... Those words were something Bastille never expected to hear... Or rather, those words were something he never wished to hear. But seeing Tobias’ terrible state; he should have understood that the circumstances presented to him didn’t mean he should immediately assume that something less important than that happened.

And now, Bastille felt bad for Clara’s death, and for judging Tobias like that.

“I see...” He slowly responded, as he shook his head. He carefully thought what he should say or ask next, before deciding against it.

Caution with words was something he knew he didn’t have, so whatever he wanted to say was most likely better left unsaid.

“... Let’s go to Jacques, then.” He finally said.

And at his words, Tobias’ eyes shimmered recognition, before he let out a small nod. Then he turned towards his white-haired companion, and his gaze was... complicated. The white-haired girl looked at him with a matching expression, before she raised her hand and allowed it to be grabbed carefully.

A quick scan told Bastille that her hand had a faint, already faded red hand mark, and he couldn’t help but think just how much did Clara’s death change Tobias.

And what exactly was his relationship with this girl, anyways...?

...

But it wasn’t his business to pry right now – not especially after his false assumptions. He didn’t deserve to ask those kinds of questions.

It would be his best interest to lead them to Jacques, who was better with his words and would be able to pry out answers much more carefully than he ever would be able to.

***

Sistine was incredibly confused. Clara – the only person which she could talk to freely, died after a few days of meeting her. Tobias now had to take care of her. And while he was doing his job decently, he was also incredibly distant.

... But that was probably for the better.

Because whenever he got too absorbed in his thoughts, he looked scary.

And that wasn’t where it ended. Because whenever Sistine slept, she would encounter these strangest dreams – which might have belonged to her, or might not have belonged to her.

... It was confusing, and oddly enough, painful as well. Clara would have been able to listen to her, and she might have been able to understand.

But she couldn’t tell Tobias. He already looked like he was suffering with Clara’s death, and they were probably closer than she was to Clara.

While her memories were missing, she had enough common sense to know that telling him about it would just make him more confused, and place some unnecessary burden that he didn’t need to bear.

And besides... While he was scary, he was also nothing but kind to her.

Even if she felt like it would be perfectly natural to blame her for what happened to Clara, he never seemed to blame her. And even if he was distant, it still seemed like he was looking out for her, and was trying to protect her in his own way.

So Sistine behaved, and listened to everything he told her to do. If he wanted to hold her wrist so she wouldn’t get separated, then she would listen – even if it felt like sometimes, she thought that he would crush her hand. If he told her to stop paying attention to those fascinating items and toys behind those glass displays, then she would do so without complaining.

... That was all he ever told her to do.

Nothing more... and nothing less... Even if she felt like he deserved to lash out at her, or take out his anger on her...

And now, she found herself stuck in a room similar to their room back at that Town, but with two people that she wasn’t familiar with.

The first was a man with blonde hair and mismatching eye colors slightly taller than Tobias.

The second was the red haired, crimson eyed man they encountered earlier.

And while they seemed to know each other, she didn’t know any of them personally. She only knew them by their names; Jacques, and Bastille.

... It made her feel scared. So she naturally sat beside the only person she knew, and half-hid herself behind him.

“I think I know exactly what Clara died to, if you wouldn’t mind me saying it.” The blonde haired man – Jacques, said. But while he seemed sad in his own way, his own professionalism seemed to suppress such sadness away.

“Go ahead.” Tobias nodded. His eyes seemed to burn with a certain determination that made her feel conflicted. Even more conflicted.

Because he was most definitely sad just a few hours ago. And right now, his own determination seemed to burn away his sadness.

“The symptoms all point towards a certain poison that nobility uses to get rid of their competition in... a discrete manner. I heard it comes from the north, and what it does is... You would think it would be a normal fever, until it isn’t.”

“I saw it happen.” He replied, and Sistine saw him shudder. His hands were clenched tightly, and for the shortest while, she remembered the sensation of being tightly held like that.

She slowly turned to her own wrist – and let out a small shiver.

“... What about Clara’s body?” The spectacles wearing man – Bastille, asked.

“There was a church nearby...” Tobias admitted with a wince. Sistine already knew that he deeply regretted his actions, and the way he sent Clara off. “A church devoted to Aestus. It was... a funeral of fire.”

“I see...”

There was a tense, respectful silence after that. And then – Sistine accidentally met Jacques in the eye, and he stared at her for the longest while. She couldn’t turn away no matter how hard she tried, and his mismatched eyes seemed to peer into the very depths of her own soul.

“And what about her?” He asked, while his right eye seemed to turn white. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, it was back to blue.

Was she imagining things?

“She’s...” Tobias turned to her, and seemed to slump in his seat. “We found her in a forest, and I guess Clara decided to take care of her but she...” His stone-like expression cracked, and he began to breath heavily to himself.

“It’s alright, Tobias.” Jacques interrupted, raising his hand so he wouldn’t force himself to say the words. “She told you to keep taking care of her, did she not?”

“Yeah...”

“For confirmation, so that everyone is on the same page...” Jacques began. “After you arrived in Spearwall Town, you set off for the bad lands for about a week or so, before deciding to go back, correct?” Tobias nodded. “And while you were coming back, you encountered Sistine, correct?”

She flinched at her name being called. Because Tobias had never disclosed her name – how did he know that?

“And after that, you convinced Clara to stay behind to take care of Sistine under the guise of learning who she is, and what her motivations were. Then Clara learns that Sistine doesn’t... quite have her memories intact, so she decides to fully devote herself to taking care of her, right?”

“Yeah...”

“And after you returned from your monster killing journey, someone knocked on the door, and Clara opened the door, before she got... attacked. You fought off that white-masked attacker, who fled. And after that... well, we’re here now, then.”

“... You got everything correct.” Tobias hesitantly admitted, and she could see that his eyes were tense, but relieved in some way. Why was that the case...?

“Tobias.” Jacques said, and his mismatched eyes met with brown ones. “Would you believe me if I said I had an idea on who this white-masked attacker is?”

“...!” Tobias’ eyes snapped open, and he suddenly stood up, rushing towards the blonde haired man. His hands reached out to grab at his collar. “What do you know?!”

“I think with Clara’s decision to adopt Sistine... You’re fortunate in that regard then, Tobias.” Jacques commented, before he stared at Sistine with such intensity, that she couldn’t help but freeze at the spot. “Because this girl... is related to the case of Clara’s death.”

Tobias slowly turned to her – and his eyes were changed into something that she didn’t know he was capable of expressing towards her. Those dull, unfocused eyes of sadness burned into fires of anger in the blink of an eye.

The fires of betrayal – his eyes seemed to say.

Sistine couldn’t help but violently shiver in fear – and she imagined that those hands of his could easily wrap around her neck, and crush her throat with ease.

“Calm down, Tobias.” Jacques called out. “I should have phrased it better. What I meant was, she is our clue to figuring out who attacked Clara... and is our best chance at drawing him out. In other words, she is excellent bait.”

And with his words – the fires of betrayal in Tobias’ eyes burned out slowly, before he looked at her with a conflicted look of hesitance.

“Tobias.” Bastille called out. “Would you risk her safety for the chance to avenge Clara?”

Sistine finally understood his hesitance. And for the first time, she found herself turning towards him, as she shook her head; silently begging him not to.

“... I don’t know.” Tobias finally replied.

She felt a complicated relief at his words. But somehow, she knew that his hesitance would only last for the shortest while, before he finally made up his mind.

She hoped that he would make the correct choice...

***

Tobias checked on Sistine in their newly rented, shared room. She was fast asleep – she always was, and he thought that it was most likely her way of dealing with the stress of the recent events.

... How fortunate for her, then.

That she was still able to sleep in the same room with the person who held a complicated relationship with her.

So he silently wore his leather belt, sheathed his sword, before leaving the room. He was wearing his dark gray – almost black coat, because his navy-blue coat was too scorched to be used and needed to be repaired. At some point, he had found himself in front of a tailor’s shop to get it fixed.

How ironic. He wanted to be a tailor before, but such things were impossible now.

He had no time to get lost in those thoughts. He looked at his sheathed longsword and dagger by his sides, before he felt his eyes narrow – Clara would tell him that his gaze was incredibly focused right now, if she was still here.

... Damn it.

He knew that his decision was wrong. But he also knew that he didn’t want to keep still and do nothing when he knew that he could probably – most definitely – do something about Clara’s murderer. He could avenge her, and let her rest in peace.

So he opened the door, and silently closed it behind him. Just right to his door, in the hallway where the windows allowed the moonlight to shine, there stood Jacques. He leaned against the wall casually, and he seemed to patiently wait for him.

Then; a lone, almost glowing blue eye met against his eyes.

“So you wanted to know, after all.” His former party Leader said, as he pushed himself away from the wall. His right eye seemed to shine underneath the moon, and his lips were turned into a frown. “I can’t say that I agree with your decision... But we both know that once you decide on something, you cannot be stopped, right?”

“You don’t need to remind me.” Tobias growled, his eyes narrowed. “And if you’re worried about her safety, then you shouldn’t have said anything about it.”

“... Yeah, my bad.” Jacques replied tonelessly, despite his apologetic words. “I really have a tendency to let some things slip.”

“...” This guy also spoke too much sometimes, just like Bastille. But unlike that Sorcerer, he seemed like he was fully aware of what exactly he was letting out.

How annoying.

“Just...” Tobias sighed to relax himself. There was no use antagonizing him right now. “What did you find out about her with that Analysis of yours?”

“She is a great unknown – to herself, and even to me.” Jacques admitted, and Tobias let out an annoyed click with his tongue. “But I did find out that she is being hunted. The white masked, black coated man that you encountered. I have heard of him back then, but I’ve never seen him personally.”

“... Who is he?” Tobias asked, and he felt his hand twitch as it moved towards the dagger.

“Another Subject. The researchers and caretakers...” Jacques began, before he sighed. “They spoke of his Title. They call him the Keeper Hunter.”

“I see.” He growled, before he turned around to walk away.

That explained things. Another Subject only meant that they were involved with a System, and they knew things then.

“Tobias.” Jacques called out, and he turned around to face him. “Bastille already asked you this one before; but are you really willing to risk her life just for a chance at avenging Clara? She’s innocent, and she’s also a victim here, you know?”

... How annoying.

“You know, Jacques. For one who knows a lot, I’m surprised you’re still asking these questions from me.” Tobias snapped back. “And I’m not sure if you understand, but Clara suffered while she was...” He stopped suddenly, before he took a deep breath to calm himself down. “... I want Clara to rest in peace, knowing that whoever killed her would be dead.”

“But...” Jacques said, before he shook his head. “... Alright. I was Clara’s party Leader too, so I should be involved in this as well.”

Of course he should be involved. Jacques knew Clara, and Clara knew Jacques. Even before Tobias was involved, anyways. It was unnatural for him to not want to avenge her death, especially now that it was revealed that there was a person closely involved in such a case.

... But then again, Jacques was Jacques. Tobias understood that he didn’t have one’s typical sense of morality, and he seemed to possess different natural instincts.

Tobias growled, as he shook his head to get rid of his train of thought.

And without any further words, he turned around, and slipped into the room again. Unlike outside, the windows were closed. But he silently, swiftly crept to those same windows, and opened it. Moonlight did not filter through the room – the angles did not allow it, after all.

Looking down at the other occupied bed, he could see that Sistine was still sleeping, blissfully unaware of what was just happened.

Did he make the right decision? Of course not.

But lately, he had been thinking to himself, among other things; what exactly was the meaning of right or wrong, anyways?

All he understood right now was that an enemy had killed someone he loved and cherished, and that left him terribly empty... no.

He was terribly angry – terribly desperate.

He thought to himself... It was only right to make his enemy pay, right? Then his gaze fell towards the open window, as the late autumn, chilly breeze gently swept inside the room. But his built resistance to the cold meant that such breeze was only mildly chilling at worst.

And then, he stared at the open window, and let out a wry, hollow smile at the purpose of it being opened.

The open window was not to let the moonlight shine upon the room.

It was to invite Clara’s murderer, and Sistine’s supposed would-be attacker.

Especially after Tobias hung a small banner the same shade of white as Sistine’s hair. If that murderer was obsessed with Sistine... then there was no way for him to ignore such teasing, tempting bait, would he not?

And besides... Why not use his inability to sleep to proper use for once, right?

...

The only answer he received to his questions was the sound of his sheathed weapons, as he shifted in his seat with silent, tense anticipation.

He believes that this changes nothing.

All Tobias had to do was to complete his original quest.

And if Death was Death, then it is surely possible, is it not...?

... It is surely possible to bring Clara back to life.

But why does he feel like his thoughts are to only to convince himself?