"In another corner of the kingdom, these same eternal truths were testing another soul…"
In the deepest, most well-guarded chambers of a castle erected on the highest peaks, sat a girl slouched against the dilapidated walls. The walls served as a reflection of her heart, which, with muted strength, persevered through the indifference with which the world had regarded her.
"One day I will be free," her eyes said. "But what is freedom?" her mind rang.
In the deepest corner of her mind, she gazed into the vast expanse, and there an entity greeted her.
"Leave me in peace," she responded.
"And what do you envision as peace, young one? Rotting away in some forgotten corner of the world? A subject of experimentation?" the entity grieved.
"What do you envision as peace?" the girl asked cautiously.
"Contentment," the entity replied. "But contentment often costs what we consider peace."
"What do you mean?" the girl asked, with a muted expression of curiosity.
"To want, to take from what could have been someone else's, and make it solely yours—even life itself."
"I don't understand."
"No fighting spirit," the entity sighed. "I don't know what is more tragic: one who suffers because he knows better, or one who doesn't know better and therefore does not suffer," the entity lamented.
"Can you show me better?"
"Perhaps I could, but you would suffer."
"They're going to kill you tomorrow."
"I see."
"Hence why I am sad for you, child. To be robbed of the basic desire for self-preservation... On second thought, I will show you better... I will be killed for this, but I have lived long enough."
The girl felt millennia of experiences flow through her—every sentiment, every moment: anguish, grief, love, compassion, envy, lust, rage, wrath, pride, and even gluttony. The intensity of the experience snapped her back to the physical plane, her sense of self molding itself around each emotion.
And then she wept. And it was an overwhelming fury. Her heart sang.
When she was done weeping, she lay, her mind flowing with emotion that pulsed through her with every beat of her heart. It stirred her soul to motion. A restlessness grew within her, a kindling of ambition—a longing for something beyond this present moment.
As she realized this longing, she felt anguish. "Oh, how I've been wronged," her eyes lamented.
Hours upon hours passed, and footsteps began to echo in her mind as the girl awoke from her slumber.
The metal door slowly creaked open, revealing the silhouette of a man, the light blinding her.
"Izaline."
"Edward," she said, misery weaving its way into her expression.
"Izaline, what's wrong?"
"I can't take another day in this place. Is this hate?"
"Izaline, you're in danger."
They heard footsteps pounding and then screaming.
"Izaline, I came to get you out of here. Please, let me do this. Let me right this wrong."
Edward took Izaline's hand as they ran through the labyrinth, each path unveiling a myriad of forks.
"There is an underground passage."
As they rounded a corner, a sword missed Edward's neck by an inch. He summoned the Father's will through a talisman and placed it on the guard's chest. As he did so, his chainmail shattered from the cold, and Edward drove a sword through his heart. The man's eyes went lifeless before his body, the blood curdling in his mouth, a symphony that echoed through and pleaded for his mother's warmth.
Edward took Izaline's hand and ran. The sound of her bare feet patterned against the cold stone floor. After some time, they came to a large, expanding courtyard within the castle.
There, many men surrounded them.
"Izaline, remember what I taught you."
"I stare into their eyes while reaching into the back of my mind."
"Yes, but this time I want you to stare into the ice crystals."
"Why?"
"Don't ask, just do."
"Yes, sir."
Edward reached into his armored robes, pulling out several talismans as the men charged at him. He bobbed and weaved between all of them, placing talismans on the ground at each opportunity while blocking attacks with his vambraces.
Then, when there was a circle of talismans around the courtyard, he emitted a blast of air from his mouth, knocking the men to the ground. Using the brief interval, he wove a sigil in the air and said a chant. Mascots began to glow and come to life. Suddenly, it began to rain in the courtyard—the rain turning to vapor and mist, and then the mist turning to ice shards.
One of the men grabbed Izaline. She began frantically kicking her legs out as the man chuckled, and just as he was about to slice her throat, Edward closed his eyes and shouted: "Izaline, now!"
Izaline stared into one of the ice shards. Suddenly, the depths of the cosmos reflected in every direction, in every ice shard, forcing the men to look. As they peered through the veil, they were driven into a mad frenzy and reduced to a bumbling, catatonic state.
Edward muttered to himself, "I wasn't expecting this."
Within the still silence of the triumphant victory, Izaline asked:
"What are you, Edward?"
"I am a magus of the Order of the Twilight Veil, or rather, a former magus now."
Izaline looked to the side.
"Why did you save me?"
"Because... I've developed a paternal affection towards you these past few years of my life."
And so it was they mounted a steed and rode off, but regardless of which direction they went, they would be facing time.
In the countryside, about seven days' ride away, Izaline and Edward galloped on horseback at a steady pace. The trees seemed to merge with the horizon, their silhouettes softened by the foggy morning air. Dew clung to the grass, and fireflies danced in the mist as they rode.
"Is this... beauty?" Izaline asked, glancing at Edward.
He nodded, a quiet smile crossing his face. "Yes, I suppose it is."
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
Edward turned his gaze forward, his tone firm with purpose. "I have funds stashed across the country in case I ever needed them. I'm going to collect some from an old friend of mine. I told her that if I ever stopped being a magus, I'd marry her."
Izaline raised an eyebrow. "And... you're not exactly equipped to raise a lass?"
Edward chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I can only teach you to fight and about history. Anything beyond that, well, I'm not sure."
She looked at him thoughtfully. "Was it the courtyard... fighting?"
"Yes," Edward answered, his voice solemn. "Without your help, I would have died."
Izaline paused, her expression softening. "I saved you?"
Edward met her gaze, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Yes."
Izaline smiled, a quiet, knowing expression. She leaned forward, hugging him tighter as she rested her head against his back, trying not to fall off the horse. Her eyelids grew heavy as she almost nodded.
"Hang in there, Izaline," Edward said gently. "We're about three paces away."
The village bustled with life, its streets filled with people moving about. Some shot awkward glances at Izaline; others wore looks of concern.
"She's so pretty," one whispered.
"It's a demon," another muttered.
"Don't look at it," someone else hissed.
A loud, familiar voice rang out. "EDWARD!"
A woman rushed up, hugging Edward from behind.
"And what is this mysterious creature you've brought with you?" she asked, eyeing Izaline.
"My successor," Edward replied. "And hopefully... my adopted daughter, if she wishes."
"Whew, adopted..." the woman exhaled with a smirk. "You almost had me going there."
"But... what is she?"
"I'll tell you after we've had a warm meal," Edward said. "We've been riding for days, and we need some raw meat—preferably lamb."
"For what?"
"For her."
Emily grabbed Edward's arm, pulling him aside. She hissed under her breath, "You did not bring a vampire to my doorstep! I have a son. I can't put him in danger."
"I've known her for four years, Emily," Edward replied, his voice calm but firm. "If you won't have us, can you at least give her a pair of clothes? We'll be on our way."
"Where to?"
"I don't know," Edward admitted.
"You mean you're not a magus?"
"That would seem to be the case."
Emily's face softened, her voice quivering. "You... kept your promise."
"I did," Edward said quietly.
Her cheeks flushed red, and she punched him lightly on the shoulder before wrapping him in another hug.
"Please stay this time."
She abruptly broke the embrace.
"Well, come in, why don't you," she said, gesturing toward the door as she entered the cottage.
"Davino!"
A boy emerged from the corner of the doorway to a room.
"Meet your father. Doesn't he look just like you?"
"The spitting image," Edward replied.
"I'll let you boys catch up while I get the girl washed up."
Izaline cocked her head to the side in a curious manner. "My name is Izaline."
In the bathroom, when she removed Izaline's clothes, Emily was greeted with a horrid and uncanny feeling that sank to the bottom of her stomach.
She discovered that Izaline possessed four arms and hooks for feet—but that was not what worried her. She saw countless insertion points scattered throughout her body and a number tattooed on her neck. It read: 726.
"You poor thing," Emily said as she placed her hand on Izaline's cheek. "Come now, get in the water. I'll scrub you down."
"Is this a pity?" Izaline asked, staring deep into Emily's eyes.
"It is unfair for me to pity you."
When Emily was done putting Davino's clothes on her, she voiced an observation. "Hmm, I'm going to need to sew some sleeves on this, but for now, I'll cut some holes into it for your extra arms. There. Now try it on. Is this love?"
"No, sweetie, it pains me to say this, but you shouldn't love this soon."
Izaline turned her head to the side. "Okay," she whimpered.
At dinner time, Izaline was ravenous. She tore into the raw meat, unabashed by her gluttony.
Edward laughed at Emily's and Davino's shocked faces.
"I've heard stories, but I never thought they were real." Davino looked at his mother.
"I am sleeping in the same room as that?" Davino asked cautiously.
"Well, I can't make her sleep outside, can I?"
The sun faded over the horizon as the town grew lifeless. One by one, the candlelight in each house went out. Finally, the candlelight went out as Izaline was nestled next to Davino. And for the first time, she fell asleep warm with a full stomach. I suppose this is better, she thought to herself.