That morning, Kiel appeared at Elestia's door with a soft, nervous smile and a box in his hands.
"Elestia," he began carefully, "the King's birthday banquet is tonight. His Majesty requested your presence… and I'd be honored if you'd come with me."
Inside the box lay a crimson gown — dazzling and regal, its fabric glowing faintly as if woven with mana itself. It was beautiful… but wrong.
Elestia's fingers brushed the silk and immediately stiffened.'A red dress with an open back… this isn't from him,' she thought.Her lips curved in a faint, bitter smile. 'Did they really think I'm a pushover?'
The scent was too foreign. The stitching, too intricate for Kiel's taste.Ciel's influence lingered in the weave like perfume.
"Thank you," she said simply, folding the dress neatly. "I'll think about it."When Kiel left, she set the box aside — untouched — and began to clean her room.By the time the sun had reached its zenith, there was no trace of her scent or presence left.
She didn't plan to go to the banquet.Not yet.
On her way out, a thought stirred inside her.
"Sirene… spirit fairies cannot talk, right?"
The little orb of light that hovered beside her shimmered, then — for the first time — answered.
"It's not that we can't," the fairy said softly, her voice like a lullaby echoing through crystal water. "We simply choose not to."
Elestia froze. Sirene's voice carried warmth, sorrow, and something older — something that felt like memory itself.They walked the rest of the way in silence, until the towering gates of the Magic Knight Headquarters loomed ahead.
The building, seen up close, was colossal — a monument of marble and mana.
"Can I help you, young lady?" asked the gate guard, surprised by her presence.
"Um… I'm the new recruit," she replied, forcing a small smile.
"Ah, welcome! Just speak to the clerk inside, she'll guide you through."
Elestia bowed politely and entered.The day passed quietly — she was told there'd be no duties yet, only orientation. She met Relo briefly in the hall, exchanged a few casual words, and then slipped away toward the forest behind the compound.
Beneath the canopy of twilight, Elestia began her mana training.
The air hummed around her; golden particles shimmered with every breath she took. But when she finally opened her eyes again, the world had changed — the forest was dark, and the stars gleamed like silver shards scattered across the black sky.
She looked up… and froze.
A vision flashed before her eyes —a small girl, barefoot and dressed in rags, staring at a house engulfed in flames.
"What… was that?" Elestia whispered.
The image lingered — smoke, screaming, a faint voice calling her name.And that girl's hair — silver-white, reflecting the firelight.
"Was that… me?" she murmured. "No… it's too unfamiliar."
Yet her heart clenched painfully. Her memories pulsed, twisted, slipped through her fingers.
Who am I?Where is my past self?
On her way back toward town, she nearly collided with someone.
"Ah— forgive me." She stepped back instinctively, and her eyes widened.It was Grid, captain of the Great Wizard Army — his presence sharp and heavy like a storm waiting to break.
Their eyes met for a heartbeat too long.
"I… I'm sorry," Elestia murmured.
"It's all right," he replied with a small nod. "I should be the one apologizing."
As she turned away, her chest ached.'Why does my heart sting every time I see him…?'
She sighed, whispering under her breath, "...Grid…"
But before she could take another step, a hand seized her wrist and yanked her into a narrow alley.Her back hit the wall — and a large, gloved hand covered her mouth.
A whisper brushed against her ear.
"Be it Saintess or Demon King… you will always be our master."
The man vanished into the shadows as suddenly as he came, leaving only the echo of his words.
Elestia stood frozen — trembling.
Then came another flash of memory:voices screaming, "Monster! Kill that monster!"A small girl — that same silver-haired child — crouched as stones rained down upon her.
Her breath hitched."No… He said I'm… their master?"Her hand touched her chest, feeling the faint pulse of her holy power. "But… I have holy power. I awakened as a Saintess… I can't be…"
Her mind cracked beneath the weight of contradictions. Fear surged.She sank to the ground, clutching her head, tears spilling freely.
"I'm scared… I'm so scared… what should I do…"
Then, gentle arms wrapped around her from behind.
"Master," whispered a voice she knew. "I'm sorry."
"Sirene…" Elestia's voice broke. Her fairy spirit had taken human form — a woman of light, soft and radiant. She held Elestia close, rocking her like a frightened child.
"Sleep, Master," Sirene whispered. "For now… just sleep."
And Elestia obeyed. The world faded.
When she awoke, she was surrounded by a field of silver-blue flowers. Their fragrance lulled her deeper into peace — a peace she had long forgotten. She wanted to rest a little longer.
But her slumber stirred something else.
From deep within, another consciousness began to rise — an ancient pulse buried beneath centuries of silence.
A voice — her own — whispered from within the dream.
"It's been a while… since I last woke up."
Elestia's eyes fluttered open — but now, they were no longer sky blue.They glowed like molten gold at sunset.
Before her, Sirene bowed deeply."Welcome back, my true master."
The figure smiled faintly, stretching her hands — energy coursing around her like wind returning to its rightful place.
"Ah, Sirene~ it's been too long," she said, her tone sharp, mocking — confident. "Then, shall we begin? We need to find… her real body."
The fairy's expression darkened. "Yes, my Lady."
The woman — this other Elestia — turned toward the far end of the dreamscape, where a figure lay frozen in crystal:
a body identical to hers.
"My sister," she said softly, brushing a finger over the cold surface. "Still sleeping… still pretending to be human."
Her smile widened, eyes burning with crimson rage and sorrow.
"Thanks to her relentless training, I can finally use this body freely. And now… I'm back."
The air trembled around her as mana surged like fire.
"Soon, we'll meet again, little sister."
The words carried a promise — and a curse.