Chapter 31 – The strings of Fate

Teralis at dusk.

The first signs of a snowstorm coming from the north were already on the horizon. In spite of that, the family of three casually strolled around the surroundings of the empty fields that had been reduced to a land of frozen earth.

“Don't run too far!”

The young girl that ran into the distance ignored her father's call. In response, the surprisingly young man could only shake his head helplessly.

“That little brat...”

“Hehe!”

Behind him, the figure of a beautiful young woman chuckled contentedly as she grasped his right arm between her own. Her blond hair resembled that of the child in the distance, and anyone could tell the two were related by their facial features alone. The mother would have undoubtedly been a stunning beauty with her sapphire-blue eyes that shone with a brilliant luster if it wasn't for the ugly scar that tore through her delicate face. Even her slender figure that would make men turn their head more than twice couldn't mend this fault in her appearance. Yet, the one man that mattered most to her would pay no heed to such matters. For this was the woman, he truly loved from the bottom of his heart.

“She never listens to you, does she, Zeri?” She chirped in a gentle voice. Despite the oncoming storm and the coldness in their surroundings, she was filled with the unique warmth that could only be found in the arms of her small family.

“I don't know what to do with her.” Zeristin chuckled heartfully before mischievously pulling her into his embrace. “I wonder if she got that from her mother?”

This is wrong.

“Me?” The woman pouted slightly, trying to hide the blush underneath her scars before breaking out in a burst of cheerful laughter again. She let him pamper her until her frail heart was satisfied. When she changed the topic back to their daughter, however, she assumed the appearance of a stern mother that looked out for the well-being of her child above all else.

“Lea is already ten years old. It's time for us to make a decision.”

“Stella... Are you sure?” Zeristin lost his own cheerfulness as he thought about the matter she'd raised earlier this day. Should they send her to the academy? Lately, there had been some nasty rumors, and its future remained uncertain. However, the traveling magus they'd met mentioned that their daughter was very talented and should pursue the study of Magecraft.

Don't let her fool you.

“I'm sure mother would be happy to hear about this.” Stella continued, trying to convince her husband about the idea. After all, they were talking about their daughter becoming a magus! Surely this meant that she would have a prosperous future ahead of her if she could really succeed in becoming one.

“Mother...”

When Stella mentioned her, Zeristin felt a small headache coming on. Every time they talked about her, he had that weird feeling at the back of his head. It was strange, and he couldn't really explain what it meant. He liked her – he really did. But this feeling didn't let him rest easy.

This is not real.

Zeristin shook his head wildly to clear his thoughts. There was nothing wrong – it was just his imagination.

“Alright, Stella...” In the end, Zeristin agreed reluctantly, surrendering to his lover. He didn't even know why he was so opposed to the idea initially. For their daughter to become a magus would bring unimaginable advantages as well as honor and riches to their impoverished family. If one day they could see her standing on an equal footing to those nobles, they could be very proud of that.

Even so, despite him agreeing, this slight itch didn't leave him in peace.

Remember the truth, Zeristin Wezlak!

“Daddy!”

But when he saw that cheerful little girl running towards him as she almost stumbled several times in her haste, Zeristin felt his tired heart being filled with an endless warmth that eclipsed the nagging voice. That's right. Nothing mattered more than his family, and he had to do his best to provide for them. What else did he have to worry about?

“Be a dear and make us some tea, darling.”

Within the mansion of Ranzes, Catherine made herself comfortable on the large bed. Ever since her appearance, Aien remained unmoving on the same spot she'd first hugged him. With his head hung low, he stared at the floor without daring to meet her eyes anymore. Whatever was going on in his mind that was left in utter turmoil – no one could tell.

“Yes, mother!”

Symar nodded obediently in an ecstatic voice before leaving the room. How couldn't he be happy? After all this time, his mother had finally returned! Naturally, he'd do his best to meet her needs.

“I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

Catherine spoke up, but Aien seemed to ignore her. She didn't mind that at all as she began answering all of his questions without him needing to ask.

“You're a devil. My devil.” She began with a slight snicker that was unusual for the appearance of the elderly. She kept up the act of a caring mother, but deep within her eyes, one could see her deceitful nature if one wasn't enchanted by them beforehand.

“Mentor... No, Michael? Or Aien, which do you prefer?” She merely shrugged her shoulders indifferently when she got no answer. “Oh well, Michael it is then. It's the name I've chosen carefully after all. A devil with the name of an angel, how beautifully ironic... You should be grateful to me. Without me, you would have lost everything and returned to the cycle of reincarnation. Your soul would have remained but wiped clean of its memories. That's the same as disappearing into nothingness forever, my dear.”

“Show me the contract,” Aien muttered in a slight whisper that Catherine couldn't make out. Even so, in front of Aien, a piece of paper appeared, floating in mid-air. It wasn't accompanied by the usual red light. It instead appeared to be like any other piece of paper if it wasn't for its enormous length. As one of the participants, he had every right to take a look at it whenever he wanted, even if that was the only right left to him.

The contract itself could be summarized as followed.

Contract

I will not harm Cath Z. Yslazeth in any form or manner.

I will obey her every word and abide by her will.

I will offer up my soul to her.

If any of these clauses are broken, I accept that the world will erase my existence.

In exchange, I may be reborn as a devil.

Signed, Mentor.

It was different. A lot different from the contract that Aien had seen. At the bottom of it, he found a blue-white dot that was inexplicably familiar to him. The connection between him and this symbol was one of utmost familiarity, and Aien knew that whatever it was, it once was a part of him. When he looked at the contents of the contract, he felt nothing. Everything was as he'd suspected by this point. Naturally, a contract created by an actual devil would leave no openings or mistakes to exploit.

In the meantime, Symar entered the room again, holding a tablet with a kettle and two cups. After placing them in front of Catherine, he obediently left them alone after she had ordered him to do so. Without any haste, Catherine poured herself some tea made from the finest herbs in the region while studying Aien. Up to this point, there had yet to be any other reaction from him after their initial reunion. Unfortunate, since she somewhat enjoyed seeing his little antics.

“It was quite troublesome, you know.” Catherine eventually continued. “It's not easy to deal with that old hag Ayla or get a hold of a Primal Contract. We had to spend a lot of resources to attain the right to proceed as well.”

Ayla, the Goddess of Life. So the gods did exist. Not that he could bother caring about them at that moment.

“Have you never suspected anything?” She asked while watching him with that usual smile of hers. It had taken almost twenty years to raise him, so she would indulge in her shenanigans a little after her work was finally done.

Aien remained unresponsive, but the cogs in his head turned without pause. In hindsight, all of this shouldn't have come as much of a surprise to him. She had paid a lot of individual attention to him. His innocent self of the past had thought she liked him more than the others. That he was a special child – unique to that newfound mother of his. But just like his own past victims, he had never willingly suspected anything. Simply because he didn't want to. He'd never considered this possibility to begin with. Therefore, he never scrutinized the reasons behind her treatment or why he was that unique talentless child in that orphanage filled with potential magi.

It was painful to admit. Still, he, Michael, had always thought that her reasons were that mystical and elusive feeling he'd often heard of in fairy tales.

Love.

“Don't be like that, Michael. Here, have some tea.”

Catherine said as he chose to keep ignoring her questions. When those words left her mouth, Aien could no longer ignore her bidding. He felt the two forces pulling inside of him, influencing all of his actions and decisions. The first was her gentle voice, which alone made it almost impossible for him to refuse. It belonged to that of an endearing mother that made a plea no one could ignore. Aien was familiar with her enchanting words that removed all will of disobedience. But If he'd forced himself, he could have overcome their pull after the recent events.

However, that other tugging force was far more dangerous. He knew he had no real choice - No freedom. If he ever disobeyed her words, it was an absolute certainty that his life would end on the spot. At all times, her words were accompanied by a sword that hung directly above his head, leaving only one ultimatum.

Obey or die.

Thus, Aien reluctantly grabbed himself a chair and sat in front of the woman he called his mother and drank the tea she poured him.

“I spent a lot more effort than that.” She continued again, calmly sipping at her tea. This time she had a better seat to appreciate her years of work.

“Do you know how hard it was to find someone named Reynold that was also a captain? It took me a few years in advance to find one just for you. It was all worth it in the end, though. The look on your face when I introduced him to you was delightful.”

Aien struggled to hold up his indifferent facade, but his brows betrayed him as they twitched in reaction to her words. On the other hand, Catherine chuckled gleefully as she reminisced about the events of that day. It was just one of her silly pastimes, in which she'd probably put far too much effort in.

“That reminds me...” She pulled out a familiar necklace that Aien had thought he'd never see again and put it onto the table. “Remember to thank that friend of yours for bringing it back. What a kind fellow, indeed. I hope he is doing well.”

“How...” Aien chose to ask his first question, but there was no need to as she interrupted him.

“...did no one notice you were a devil? That friend of yours who was looking for you should have realized it immediately, no? You see, that's the whole point of this little experiment.”

When he heard that, Aien couldn't help but feel the fragmented remains of his heart being ruthlessly squeezed once more. Naturally, Catherine happily took note of his reaction.

“How much do you know about the First World?” She asked rhetorically. There wasn't much information about the time before the First End. When she continued, her gentle voice finally changed for the first time as they contained some spite in them. “It was otherwise known as the World of Devils. A completely different time. Nowadays, all you find are those feeble mortals. Back then, we used to roam the world in the same manner you do, until...”

She stopped herself before speaking up again. From that point on, her words contained a hatred like none other, and if it wasn't necessary, she didn't want to relive those long-forgotten memories.

“During that time, we owned physical bodies. We were part of the divine and yet no different from mortals as we ruled the world. After the World of Devils came to an end, most of us lost our right to own our bodies. Thus, we were forced to hide in our ethereal realm as specks of our former glory. Currently, most of us can only leave that realm as the world watches over us and assigns us the duty of fulfilling contracts.”

Her words contained a lot of information Aien would never be able to get, but it was hard for him to pay much attention to them. Regardless, Catherine continued her duty to explain their ancient glory as he'd become one of them.

“Ever since, devils are no longer allowed to procreate. Only the world can birth us, which makes us none other than its servants. Few of the archdevil of the past remain, and most of our newer forces can barely compete with the lower races. To regain our rights, this isn't enough... That's when I proposed this idea. Your soul was part of that other world. It was the perfect opportunity to birth a new kind of devil. However...”

All of a sudden, the way she looked at him changed. Instead of glee at his ridiculous circumstances, she looked at Michael with some kind of disgust. Like some dirt, she had to scrape off her shoes, her gaze contained nothing else but disappointment.

“Your birth was... extraordinary. Your entire existence was. At first, I thought your lack of mana was due to turning into a devil, but that didn't make sense. Every devil was born with some extent of mana to the extent of fulfilling their first contract. That was what brought me hope. You were different from ordinary devils. You teetered between death and life. No doubt, you existed in front of my eyes, and yet, in a sense, you didn't. Devoid of any form of mana, by all means, you should have died or never been born. Still, you lived. At that point, the experiment was a success."

Catherine remembered the excitement she felt when she first caught sight of him. His mind had been a mess from his past trauma, but other than that, he was perfect. Since his existence was an unknown occurrence, his possibility was endless.

"You gained some of my characteristics of a devil and remained human at the same time. Did you never wonder how you made all those people do your bidding? Those silly drugs you used? Don't make me laugh. That was my power that you attained. Your birth was similar to how the world operates when it births devils but slightly different and tweaked by myself. As a matter of fact, you are my biological son, which might have also played a role in your charismatic skills as you think of them. It's been a long time since the last devil gave birth... All of that went so smoothly and yet...“

She paused and poured herself some more tea before continuing her explanation. Catherine didn't mind wasting this time, seeing how, with each word, Aien lost his remaining hope as his mind further lost itself within the turmoil of this charade. If nothing else, this failed experiment should make a good servant. And as a servant, he needed no thoughts of his own, and it was better to root out anything troublesome that remained within him.

“But I was wrong. In a sense, you were never born. I have to rethink my approach regarding that in my next experiment. Still, your dealing with contracts was definitely a mistake. I wanted to continue watching, but it seems the world somehow took advantage of that. At that very moment, the contract pulled you in, and you were officially born into this world. Go ahead and feel it. You have it now. That what you so desperately desired. Our tainted Mana – that damned Yzra.“

As soon as Catherine mentioned it, Aien instinctively knew what she was talking about. Throughout his whole body, he could feel a river that hadn't existed. It was almost dried up. Yet, it undoubtedly existed, filling him with a vitality that slightly refreshed him with each passing cycle. Maybe it was thanks to its existence that he hadn't completely crumbled yet.

Once more, Catherine sighed in disappointment when she looked at him. The experiment was a failure, but she got some decent information out of it. Aien was now born by the world like any other devil. Whatever had made him special before was no longer there, and his worth dwindled rapidly. Naturally, she held no regard for him simply because he was biologically speaking her son. She was a devil, not a human. Throughout nature, the relationship between offspring and their parents was as variable as they come. She had not the slightest feelings of connection between them. He was merely like any other lower devil, disgraced by the world because of their past mistakes – a far cry from the devils of origin.

On the other hand, Aien felt not the slightest relief when he felt the mana traveling through his body. He had finally attained it - A path to power. But at what cost? And for what reason?

"That's it, then.“ Catherine stood up after talking to herself, no longer taking Aien into her sight. The time for fun was over.

“As for you...“

No longer did her voice contain that sweet and intoxicating kindness or that caring tone of a mother. Instead, she treated him like her servant, not even turning around to talk to him - Indifferent, without an ounce of kindness or thought for him.

"Make yourself useful and become a little stronger. You should know how. After all, you are a full-fledged devil by now. Don't disappoint me.“ She said so, but her words were completely empty as they were directed at this failure. It was time for her to get back to work and improve her approach for the next experiment.

"Yes, mother.“ For the first time, Aien coherently responded in a calm voice. He seemed to have recovered from the immense shock and respectfully stood behind her back, giving her a slight bow. She gave him a cold snort and disappeared from the room the same way she'd come.

Finally, Aien was left alone. Outside, the snowstorm had already begun once again, raging with the boundless might of nature, further tugging the world into a deathly-silence with its white blanket. The heavy wind pressed against the building as the echo of lost souls wailed through the cracks in the window. The rumbling of the glass thundered within the room, threatening to break at any moment, as it helplessly resigned itself to the might of the wind crashing against it.

Alone and cut off from the entire world outside, Aien sunk onto the bed where the woman he'd called his mother had just sat. The warmth of her body remained, making him remember the gentle days of the past for the last time. Unmoving, almost devoid of any signs of life, he digested the recent events in his thoughts. The matter of him being a devil was irrelevant to him. Human or not - it was all the same. But as for Mother Catherine and the contract...

If...

...she had come to kill him for what he'd done – That would have been fine. No, he would have even welcomed her judgment and disappointment in the child she'd painfully raised.

...she had come to punish him and straightened him onto the right path – Nothing would have been better than that.

...she had come pleading and begging for him to stop – He would have considered it.

...she had done anything else – He would have gladly welcomed it more than this.

Because this... this... was far too cruel of a truth for him to accept. He'd always made a fool of others before, but now, he was the victim.

Every action has a reaction. The law of causality existed in any world. As he'd done so often before, for the last time, he wondered whether all of this was the punishment he deserved. Was this the result of what he'd done?

His victims that were buried underneath the earth after meeting their painful demise at his hands would no doubt agree in spitefulness. Of course, he deserved this. Of course, this was the natural result of his action. You reap what you sow - This was karma, the law of nature.

But they would be wrong. It was nothing like that. A law like this didn't exist anywhere. None of this had anything to do with his actions. Had he remained innocent or even become a savior of the people, nothing would have changed.

Regardless, this world would have still condemned him to this fate. He would have still been that devil chained by a contract to be a slave for the rest of his pitiful and pointless existence. Even if he had done absolutely nothing, this outcome would have still been the same.

Everything was a lie. Everything. He'd never had a mother or any person dear to him. Alice, too, merely had not enough time to betray his expectations.

On that day among the carnage of mutilated bodies, Aien had thought he'd attained his first step towards freedom. He'd thought that he was no longer restrained by his conscience or morals. After having shattered the last chains of Karzek's slavery, he would eventually gain true freedom after achieving the sufficient strength he needed.

But what a fool he was to believe such.

Not once, in either of his lives of suffering, had he ever been free. That was his fate. Since the beginning of his life - since before his second life had even started - His fate was that of a slave. His destiny was that of a puppet that danced in the hands of others. At first, he had danced to the tune of his superiors. He then hopped to the tune of those stronger than him. And now, even the beings of the divine made use of his strings that fate had placed on him as he danced for their enjoyment and curiosity. No matter who it was, he would always be dancing and dancing until he could no more. Until his owners finally broke his strings for good.

That was the sole fate of the man known as Mentor.

That was the binding Michael could not escape.

And the chains Aien did not see.

„...Ha......Haha!“

Watching the snowstorm outside, Aien finally released his repressed emotions in a faint chuckle of derision as he thought about his own existence. Self-deprecating, he came to this realization, and he couldn't help but erupt in wild laughter. That laughter turned into a manic frenzy, containing his endless despair and hatred for anything that existed in this world. For the last time, the memories of his past flashed by. He vividly relived the interminable amount of torturing that had broken his mind into pieces. Why had he ever tried to fix them together? They were only destined to shatter again.

The laughter of a mad man, who had lost everything, yet never had anything, to begin with, continued erupting out from within him. It traveled out of the mansion into the lonely and cold world of death. The fragmented pieces of his past self were beyond repair and utterly broken by the playful hands of the world.

Fate and the divine. The devils and the people that lived in this world. They would all toy with him until he was crushed. And they would continue to do so...

For he was the world's jester.

"In that case..."

Through his insane laughter, he hissed the words with a boundless conviction that contained all of his hatred. He wouldn't just keel over and die. Every suffering he'd endured and any injustice he'd experienced fueled this hatred into the sworn oath he made to himself. At the same time, he shed that last teardrop that contained all of the remaining humanity within him and the last remaining doubts. Silently it fell to the ground, dispersing into nothingness for the rest of eternity like the snow once summer came.

„...this entire world should cease to exist."