1

A large brig of pale green sails stood at the end of the wooden pier, like an airy plume on the waves, and even at berth she seemed to be flying. Her sails, for the time being still rolled, would arc wide and round as dry spring leaves once open. The hull boarding, crafted of rare Keluan timber, bore a uniform, dark olive hue, and the fresh scent of jungle was all on her. Two tall masts there were, of the firmest Arcadian eldpine and straight as arrows, bearing the standing rigging of hard rope. The ship designer’s connection to the Royal Navy could be gleaned of her image by an expert observer, particularly present in the clever studding sail booms, equipped with metallic joints to be folded or extended at will, greatly improving the ship’s maneuverability in varied conditions.

The Jade Tempest was almost too beautiful to be called a pirate ship.

Although the Tempest had only just returned to port a day ago, the crew was already busily readying her for another voyage, to backtrack the very path they had come. But no sailor worth his salt would bemoan the monotony of the scenery, or shy away from going through the same motions again, no matter how many times he should do it, for repetition was the essence of his life.

At the base of the pier, a distance away from the ship, stood a young man and a younger woman, facing one another, the light blue cove for a background. A heartbreaking scenery so deeply etched upon the soul of every voyager, though slightly more complex in this case than it seemed at a glance.

“I won’t say sorry,” the Prince told Yuliana. “I know forgiveness is not my share, after everything. But please bear with the wait for a while longer. Even at the cost of repeating myself, I cannot stray from my course, for the people of this town. Their sole crime is the wish to be free, yet that simple dream is often punished with the heaviest hand! Should the Empire find where you are, they will leave no rock of this island standing, no question about it. Whether you are the Empress or not, your word alone will not hold back their vengeance. Before we return you, I must see where the wind blows.”

“I understand,” Yuliana told the Prince with a faint sigh. “Though I do think you are making a much bigger deal out of this than it needs to be. I am certain any trouble could be avoided, if only we went and explained things properly together.”

“Yuliana,” the Prince called her name, not so assured, but with a somewhat troubled, pitying frown. “You’ve always been an idealist, seeking to see the best in men, and I’ve admired you for that. But life has taught me to be ever in doubt, even in regards to my own self. If I must walk through fire, I will first poke the coals with a stick to see how hot they burn, even if it doesn't make the eventual pain any lesser.”

“Why does everyone calling themselves a realist look only like a nihilist to me?” Yuliana retorted with a powerless shrug. “Oh well, do as you as you see fit, if my word alone is not good enough. I trust your double-life has not made you give up on sense altogether, and that you may still recognize a peaceful solution where you see it.”

“I’m not mad!” the Prince argued, a tad dejected. “I may have changed in many ways in these brief years, but only for the better, I should say. I’m sorry about the kidnapping and what happened to the ship, but this is war to us. Was. Ah, I don’t even know what is what anymore! A princess crowned the ruler of her enemy—and my own fiancee, at that? Who could have foreseen such a thing?”

“Not I…” Yuliana said and averted her gaze.

Shaking his head, the Prince recomposed himself and shortly ended the heavy silence.

“Ah, would you let me borrow that ring?” he requested, pointing at Yuliana’s hand. “I’m going to need proof that you are in our custody. That ought to do the trick.”

“Are you sure you don't need the finger along with it?” she asked, removing the Sovereign’s Ring and handing it over. The Prince received it with a grimace.

“I...don’t do that. Honest.”

As poorly as the Prince matched the generic image of a pirate, were all his followers of the same mind? Yuliana set aside the political situation in favor of more pressing, personal concerns.

“But Prince,” she said, “will it really be fine for me to stay here? I must admit I am a little worried, despite the refuge you have given me. Captain Greystrode has made his distaste of my status apparent. He and those who share his views may yet seek to take matters in their own hands while you’re away.”

“Ah, I know,” the Prince answered with a grim look. “And I’d be caught dead before putting my faith in the word of one like him. There are many good hands on this island, who will keep Greystrode’s folk in check, and it’s them I trust. But that’s not all.”

The Prince raised his face to the sky, brought his fingers to his lips and let out a loud, rising whistle.

Only a few heartbeats later, loud whooping sound could be heard, like a sudden, intense gust of wind, and a vast, scaled shadow darted out from beyond the great hill's treetops.

Pulling its wings in, the dragon dived down like a swallow, exhibiting agility and finesse extraordinary for its size. Though a little more familiar with that calamitous form now, Yuliana couldn’t avoid healthy dread and caution from overtaking her as she watched the mountain of sharp edges drop her way, like a meteor.

Right as it looked like the dragon would crash into the wharves and destroy everything, it disappeared in a swirl of golden glitter and dust. When the light mist soon cleared, there was no wondrous wyrm anymore, but only a young girl in a white dress dashing along the pier towards them, happily giggling.

“Cap’n~!” she cried.

The girl ran straight to the Prince, leapt in the air, and threw her arms around his neck. The Prince received the child gently like a father, spinning around several times while laughing, before setting her back down on the pier.

“Yuliana,” the Prince faced the Empress and said, growing more serious. “Meet Erynmir. The last of the dragons.”

“Erynmir…?” Yuliana looked at the girl, full of awe.

“Nishishi~!” the dragon flashed a wide, mischievous grin at Yuliana. If not for her spiky, green hair and wild eyes, she would’ve been virtually indistinguishable from a standard human child.

“The last one…?”

“Two years ago,” the Prince explained, “by forces of circumstances, I sailed far west, further than any man has gone in centuries, until I had the forbidden shores of Amarno in view. Legends say death befalls any man who sets foot in that land, but I had to pull ashore on an uninhabited island off the coast, in search of fresh water. That isle was barren as rock, but I found there a strange cavern, and in the very bottom of that cavity, I found Eryn, asleep, sealed in crystal. By my touch, the stone melted away and she awakened, and so I brought her back with me to the civilized lands. My teachers at Efastopol had taught me the basics of the Old Tongue, so that we were able to understand each other. And the story Eryn told me was the strangest I’d ever heard. Her people had, since ancient times, been prohibited from ever leaving their home in Dali-thú-Dalinnéa, living trapped eon upon eon on that great island—immortal, and so bound by the crimes of eld to no end. But one day, finding the elves had abandoned their lands and the ancient wards were no more, the dragons left their prison and sought to move on. And in so doing, they met their doom. In Amarno, they were attacked by creatures of shadows, numerous and deadly, and fell, one by one.”

“Daemons…” Yuliana whispered.

“To save Eryn, still a juvenile by dragons’ measure, her mother brought her to that lone island and put her under spell, hoping that someone would one day find and save her. Or that she might there outlive the darkness that was to swallow the world, and awaken in a new, better age.” The Prince ruffled the dragon girl’s hair. “Well, the one to find you was just me. Sorry.”

Erynmir giggled happily, snuggling next to the Prince, not looking too disappointed.

Then, her expression suddenly changed and took on a slightly accusing aspect, like an abandoned kitten and she stepped back.

“Cap’n~!” she purred. “What’s this ‘bout Eryn not sailin’ today? Everyone else’s aboard, yet Eryn alone’s grounded again? Why!? Ta’s no fair~! Are ye leavin’ an old salt high ‘n dry? What bad has she done now?”

The Prince exhaled a bit of a weary sigh, patting her head.

“I told you this before,” he said. “There is an important job I need you to do for me. This here is Yuliana, my dear, dear friend. You need to watch over her and keep her safe while I’m gone. I’ll be back as fast as the winds can carry, so don’t let her come to any harm in the meanwhile. aye? It’s a job I wouldn’t give any other, I have great faith in you, Eryn! Trim your sails, captain’s orders. Where’s your answer?”

“Aaaaaaye,” Erynmir replied, looking away, not looking terribly enthusiastic about this special mission.

“I won’t bring you any treats if you’re going to be like that,” he scolded her unprofessional conduct.

“Keep a peeper on the lass, aye—why, Eryn’s got five o’ ‘em!” the dragon girl irritably responded. “T’s a job for a nanny, not a jack! Grrrr!”

The Prince could only shrug with a helpless look.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Yuliana. “I’ve tried to teach her the Common Speech, but while she may be more intelligent than men, there’s nothing but bad influences for her here. It’ll take another century before she has what it takes to address royalty.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Yuliana assured with a laugh.

Gathering her courage, she stepped forward and leaned over to bring her face on the level with Erynmir.

“I’m Yuliana. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eryn. Will you let me be your friend, like the Prince is?”

“There’re no friends at sea!” Erynmir replied with an air of pride. “Only brothers ‘n sisters!”

“Eh...Is that right?”

“That’s my boatswain’s pet phrase,” the Prince groaned, wiping his face in embarrassment. “I always knew dragons and pirates were a poor match, but I couldn’t exactly take her home to the Court either…”

“Hazin’ a friend’s wrong!’” Erynmir happily cited. “’But hazin’ yer brother—ta’s just Monday!”

“Your ship,” Yuliana turned to the Prince with a blank look, “what kind of a place is it, exactly…?”

“Hn!” The Prince tensed. “Ahem, pardon me, Yuliana, I really ought to get going now! Time’s a-wasting! We shall speak more after I return. I should be back in eight days or so. Until then, keep safe.”

The man departed stiffly down the pier, towards the brig, but soon stopped and turned back, continuing,

“Stay in the town, with the people you know and trust, aye?”

“Yes, I understand,” Yuliana assured him. “I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t loiter outside at night. Don’t follow any strangers, or accept odd gifts or drinks. And keep out of the Winker! It’s not good for you.”

“Yes, yes. Just go.”

“If worse comes to worst, Eryn will fly you off the island. But not even Greystrode should be mad enough to threaten you here. Our ilk may not have a lot of things we call holy, but this place is one. And by what I’ve heard, Greystrode will set sail for his home fort tonight. There’s no doubt he will have his lackeys tail you and look for ways to stir trouble, but keep your wits about you, make sure your door’s locked tight at night, and nothing bad should befall you.”

“I understand,” Yuliana nodded. “Please go in safety, Prince. I’ll await here for your return.”

At her reply, the Prince fell quiet and a soft, slightly melancholic smile appeared on his lips.

Yuliana thought that look hid more meaning than her words warranted.

“What?” she asked. “Did I say something strange?”

“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I was merely reminded of something from five years ago. When our engagement was made public.”

“Yes?”

“Pestered by the courtier, I went to ask you when the wedding day should be. You replied to me very formally that you couldn’t be sure yet, but would let me know with a letter when you felt the time was right. But then, as you left, you added in passing whisper, ‘please don’t wait for it!’ And I knew then that those were your true feelings. You weren’t one of those princesses who would bury her own heart for privilege, or political stratagems. You already had your sights set further than that. And I knew there wouldn’t ever come a letter.”

“That was…” Yuliana blushed with guilt, recalling the incident in question. She certainly had been unnecessarily dramatic. “I didn’t say it because I hated the thought of marriage. Just, I had envisioned a different, less regal future for myself and didn’t want to waste your time with empty expectations…I sincerely felt I was only doing you a favor at the time. Since you didn’t seem terribly interested in the whole affair in the first place…”

“No,” the Prince said, turning to gaze over the southern sea with a veil of untold loneliness about him. “To tell you the truth, I might’ve been just a bit let down.”

“Prince…?”

“But,” he then looked back with a playful grin and was his own self again. “Looking back, I’m grateful you said that. Knowing I didn’t need to worry about you, I was free to pursue my passion. Free to fight the good fight. Had I had a fair Princess restlessly waiting for me at home, I couldn’t have done half the things I did. And Eryn too would still be sleeping in that cold cave at the edge of the world.”

Giving Eryn and her majesty each a brief look, the Prince turned and departed for his ship, waving quietly for farewell. Yuliana saw him off, her palm dangling feebly in the air, traces of remorse in her expression.

“And had I not said that, I wouldn’t be the Empress now,” she murmured to herself. “But whether that’s a good thing, or not—I can’t tell yet.”

2

In the absence of better things to do, Yuliana continued to help the islanders with their work, as little as it was regal. Mending and washing clothes, cooking, repairing and painting the houses, tarring boats, watching over children, making tallow candles, and more. Varied and endless were the odd jobs available for idle hands and while rather tiresome at first, Yuliana soon got used to the active lifestyle, to the point that it ceased to seem so busy anymore.

No vile villains appeared to harass her majesty in the days to come. Finding herself with more free time in her hands, boredom outweighing worry, she ended up breaking her word to not leave the safety of the sanctuary, and took to exploring the island. If not even her friends knew where she went, then how could her enemies, she reasoned, and there were plenty of places to hide in the jungle in case of emergency.

No guards were there to tell Yuliana where she was allowed and where not, so she let her curiosity lead her, following paths previously untraveled further and further away from the town, enjoying the sun and the closeness of nature.

Not entirely without protection was the Empress, for wherever she looked long enough, she would eventually spy Erynmir, either playing high up in the trees among monkeys in the guise of a girl, or else soaring in the sky as a legendary beast, a shadow across the sun.

The dragon didn’t seem to hold much interest for Yuliana as a person, nor made any effort to get to know her better, the way another human would. Erynmir kept at a distance, mostly minding her own business—whatever that was—but still did as was asked of her with the attentiveness of a hound. Even though the purpose of the arrangement was only half to protect her and half to trap her, Yuliana felt that much easier for the monster’s presence.

On her longer hikes, Yuliana came across a small, picturesque lagoon on the southwest side of the island. Only about a fourth of the size of the cove where the wharves were built, it was but an inconspicuous depression between seaside cliffs, almost perfectly circular in shape, as though punched there by a giant hammer.

The sea side half of the lagoon was full of clear, aquamarine water, whereas the other half was level, brown rock. There was a hole in the back wall, corroded by the waves over the ages, through which the pool connected with the sea. Elsewhere, the cliffs leaned slightly inward and from over the circling rim poured a number of slim fresh water falls from the woods, keeping the water in the lagoon mostly low in salt.

There were no cabins or piers built here, surprisingly, nor were there any islanders. The cliff opening was too small and rocky to fit even a rowboat through, making the lagoon useless to sailors. It looked inaccessible from land too, at first, but after walking around it, Yuliana eventually uncovered a hidden path, narrow and steep, and overgrown with tough shrubs, but just about wide enough for a person to pass through.

The discovery of such a private hideout seemed even better than a buried treasure. The small lagoon became something of a safe haven for Yuliana, a sanctuary within a sanctuary, and she would sneak there whenever she ended up unemployed and wished to be alone.

On her second visit a day later, an inexplicable need for purification came to her, and Yuliana went to sit on a rock under one of the waterfalls, allowing the cool, irregular shower to wash over her. She sat there cross-legged for an hour, eyes closed, thinking about nothing, emptying her mind of worldly concerns and focused only on breathing, as guided by the unvoiced will within her.

For more than half a year now, Yuliana had shared her body with the soul of a grand spirit, as easy as it was to forget. So distant and uninvolved seemed the Divine Lord who had once guided her majesty to escape her homeland, that if not for the distinct presence of a power not her own pulsing alongside her heart, Yuliana would’ve assumed herself abandoned altogether. She had thought a great destiny would follow after forging such a pact, and while not entirely mistaken, less had changed for her as a person than she had supposed or hoped. Not only did Yuliana remain unquestionably mortal, weak and ignorant, even the heavenly counsel she sorely missed in these trying times was only notable for its conspicuous absence.

Sensing the Divine’s presence now stronger than in months, Yuliana felt less glad and more keenly her disappointment. It would have been blasphemous for a mortal to question a Lord. Yuliana was deeply grateful to the Aesa of Light for helping her escape Langoria and summoning Izumi to protect her—but there was no denying that she was also confused and lost, in desperate need of outside wisdom.

“My Lord,” she spoke, unable to hold it in any longer. “Was this also according to your will? Becoming trapped here on this island, among all these strangers, idle and helpless, while our people desperately need us…?”

——“Why, what else could it be?”

“Eh—!?”

A voice spoke, clearly audible.

Yuliana had grown used to being ignored by the spirit, to the point that she had long ceased to expect any answer to her prayers—to the point that her level of respect had started to somewhat wane.

The Lord of Light was above mundane discourse, or commenting on her daily lifestyle, which Yuliana had taken to mean the spirit was not even looking. Yet, now there had come an answer. Moreover, it didn’t seem to come from within her mind, as usual, but from outside.

Startled, Yuliana opened her eyes.

A dazzling sight stood up in the air before her.

A grown woman, tall and fair, dressed in immaculate robes, her hair long and purest white. From the lady's head grew a pair of feathered ears, unlike those of any animal, and the pupils of her inhuman eyes wouldn't absorb light but emitted it with the intensity of distant stars. On the heavenly figure’s back were two pairs—three pairs—of seraphic wings. It seemed their count had increased since her last appearance, for whatever reason.

It was the first time since their initial meeting deep under the castle of Walhollem, that the Divine Lord showed herself to Yuliana in her own form. For the sheer beauty and wonder of it, her majesty even forgot to breathe.

Aiwesh looked down at her with a wide, haughty smile and said,

“Did you ever, for a heartbeat, assume something could transpire under this Sun without my seal of approval? Oh ye of little faith! Is that how small I seem in your eyes?”

“My Lord…!” Recovering from her daze, Yuliana quickly bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Now, now, be not so distant, dear child!” the Divine lightly spoke on, seemingly in high spirits. “This appearance is but an illusion of light I wove to your amusement. So that none would assume you mad, by chance, for conversing with a disembodied voice in your head. You are no such false prophet. Even now, my spirit remains firmly rooted in your transient shell. And I would never abandon you, my dearest chalice—if there ever was one thing true in this world, you may take this as such.”

“I am entirely unworthy of your blessings!” Yuliana replied, keeping her head down, not changing her stiff speech at all. However, encouraged by the Divine’s friendliness, she did dare to let out some of her private, long-held doubts too. “...But, if I may, my Lord, why did you choose to show yourself to me now, at a time like this…?”

“My, is there something wrong with this time, in particular?” the spirit replied. “Did you have better things to do? Am I perhaps spoiling the scenery for you?”

“N-never! Such was not my…!” Yuliana hurried to excuse her rudeness, bowing her head even lower.

“Relax~!” Aiwesh beamed. “It was but a jest! There is no need to fret so much! If you were wondering why I do not shower you with my affection more often, then this would be the chief reason. It may be the natural reaction for your frail little kind, when faced with the glory of one such as I, but being so dreaded makes meaningful conversation a challenge. Yes, you should take notes from our brave champion, who may so nonchalantly converse with an Old God, as though with a close friend! Although, in that person’s case, it is more a matter of ignorance and recklessness, rather than genuine courage.”

“Old God…?” Yuliana repeated, confused.

“Mind me not,” Aiwesh told her with a dismissing wave. “Right now, think only of yourself, my dear. You are my chosen one. You are she, who will hold the world in her hands. Only you and no other. So raise your head and take pride! So long as we have each other, there is nothing at all in existence that you need be afraid of.”

“W-what does that mean...?”

“Look at me,” Aiwesh said, compelling Yuliana to raise her gaze at the Divine’s radiant form. “Avert not your face from me. You are not a slave, not a servant, nor a mindless drone. The Sun will not harm you. You and I are one, and I have become more than any Divine. I am no longer a mere tool of the system. Day or night, light or shadow, nothing in this world remains hidden from my gaze. I have seen all that was and all that shall be. I am the Alpha and the Omega. Every step on your path, every hurdle and branch from the start to the very end, takes place only at the grace of your Lord. So cast aside all your pointless little worries and rejoice! At the end of our distant road lies a glorious future exceeding all of your innocent dreams.”

“I...do not understand,” Yuliana admitted.

“Not understanding is fine,” the Lord of Light amiably replied. “All you need is to believe.”

Yuliana fell quiet, momentarily lost in thought. There were countless things she wished to ask the great spirit, now that she had the chance, but none of the most pressing topics seemed worth rejoicing for.

“It is really true?” she quietly asked. “That our world is soon going to end?”

“I told you as much, did I not?” Aiwesh replied. “Back on the day you came to me in the dark. What place is there left for doubt, after all you have seen?”

“And this fate may yet be changed?”

“That is why I am with you, yes?” the spirit replied and her radiance appeared to grow brighter. “So long as you entrust yourself to me, nothing is outside the realm of possibility. So long as you open your heart to me, you may do no wrong. When the time comes, I shall guide your hand. Together, we shall carve a path to the future of your desires. And then, a new, better world shall come to replace the old and fleeting.”

As assuring as those words were, Yuliana still hesitated.

“That my Lord is powerful, I’ve always known this,” she said. “But, would it be fine for me to speak freely?”

“Is that not what I asked of you?” Aiwesh replied. “What is on your mind? Speak and hold nothing back.”

“This may be an insolent thing to say,” Yuliana continued. “And if I end up insulting you against my intentions, I apologize in advance. But my earnest wish is—to not depend on your might, my Lord, if only it may be avoided.”

“Hm?” Aiwesh raised her snowy brows. “Why is that?”

“I believe that rather than us humans relying on someone above ourselves to take care of everything on our behalf, it is we, the inhabitants of this world, who should seek to save ourselves, by our own ability. By joining hands and working together, we ought to mend our mistaken ways, and find a better path than is possible for any one alone. I am certain this is the reason why the Old Gods left the world to us. They didn’t want us to blindly believe in them; they wished to believe in us. They wanted to see us rise above our role. Because what they gave us was never meant to be our final destination, but only the starting point of our journey. My wish is to prove us worthy of their faith! Whether we created survive, or whether we fail our trials, it should be by our own merit and ours alone. If someone else were to save us instead, what would it say about us? Wouldn’t it mean we were always helpless and so to remain? I don’t want that! It’s much too sad! We are capable of better, surely—do you not agree, my Lord?”

In response, Aiwesh’s stellar gaze grew sharp.

“You would lecture me on the will of the Gods...?” Her voice suddenly turned cold and heavy as a blade of ice. Yuliana’s heart skipped a beat and she quickly bowed her head low again, not daring to even breathe enough to voice an apology.

“It appears you have more guts than I gave you credit for!” Aiwesh exclaimed in a lighter but no less indignant tone. “But I would not make such bold statements on things I know nothing about, if I were you! The Gods did not leave this world for your sake, but their own sake! To save their sorry hides! If parents abandon their child to fend for herself, when she is barely old enough to walk, would you tearfully hail it as a token of their loving confidence? A call for personal growth and independence? Or is it only the child rationalizing her hapless plight in a way that seems most fair for herself? Oh! Do not mistake self-deception for courage, the way our delusional champion does! That is conceit itself! Only God may take responsibility for God! Your kind is a billion years too early to wear those shoes!”

As terrified as Yuliana was by the obvious ire behind the Divine’s words, her heart was strangely stirred by them at the same time, and she felt bound to answer, no matter what should become of her.

“Are we then to remain children till the end of time?” she bitterly asked. “I should think we are infants no more! Should we trade one parent for another, never to learn, never to grow past our failings? Never to assume responsibility for ourselves? Is that all our lives amount to, to be the playthings of forces we may never know or comprehend, only blindly to believe they seek our best? Regardless of the reasons for our abandonment, is it not true that we’ve done the best we can to stand on our own? Then why did we suffer so, if we let ourselves be carried to the end? What were all those sacrifices for? Was the growth we saw across these lonely eons worth nothing at all?”

“Hn—!”

The image of Aiwesh wavered, and for a moment, the spirit’s expression looked almost startled.

“...This way is better,” she then muttered in a low tone, recovering. “Believe me. The game was rigged against you from the beginning. No matter how you toil and struggle, it may not be enough. Even if you exceed your limits, even if you sacrifice everything dear to you and more, you may still fall short ere the end. Then, when the final weighing is done and your dreams boil down to nothing, your journey will have been truly in vain. Why would you ever risk such a miserable fate?”

“Because it already is in vain,” Yuliana whispered in answer. “If we give up halfway there.”

“Not if there exists a way to make sure,” Aiwesh replied. “I can give you the guarantee you lack. I may take your wavering miracle to mathematical certainty. I have the power! For that reason, I abandoned the Makers’ decree. The final result will still be the same—nay, much better! Yet, you would refuse my hand, willingly given, and leave things up to merciless chance?”

“I am grateful that you care for us so, my Lord, from the bottom of my heart,” Yuliana answered. “But can life without any chance truly be called life at all? Is there any merit in producing the correct answer, if there was never any way of being mistaken? What is the worth of a reward you did nothing to deserve?”

“That way of thinking is twisted.”

“People are twisted! I know that only too well. Since we are not Gods. Take that from us too and what is left?”

For a lengthy moment, all Yuliana heard was the noise of the waterfall, and the thundering of sea waves. She sat still, eyes still closed, bracing herself for the punishment for her insolence.

But Aiwesh did nothing to her.

“Fine!” the Divine said instead, turning away. “Very well then! So be it! Show it to me, by all means—just how far your kind has come and how far you will yet go, by your own merit, unaided by the heavens. Whether you are able to unite the living and earn your salvation, or whether you are betrayed by life and drown in despair, I will be there to see it. Changing your mind at any time is fine; you need but call my name. But this much I will tell you, my lovable, foolish child: your spirit will be sorely tested yet before the journey's end. And should it ever once be broken, you shall pay witness to my way of doing things.”

With that, the illusory figure of the Divine spirit melted into the sunlit lagoon scenery. And Yuliana was alone once more, feeling the weight of her mortality heavier than ever before.