Translation to English:
Three impossible things should not happen in such a short span of time.
But for Leo, that was exactly the case.
Imprisoned. Failed. And, possibly… sentenced to death.
The shock and her lack of reaction kept her frozen. Her stomach churned with anger and nausea. Not that she could do anything about it while heavy chains pulled her wrists out to the sides of her body.
From how long she had been there, her arms had gone numb. Her mouth was dry; she ran her tongue over her lips, trying to ease the sensation, until she felt an unusual texture.
Had she been injured? When?
Only a few minutes had passed since she had opened her eyes. As they adjusted to the dim light, she processed without much effort where she was. The darkened red-brick walls, the corners of her cell so close to her, carried an illusory vastness, almost endless. The stone floor beneath her body was rough and damp. Her back and feet tingled from the uncomfortable position.
The faint light of torches outside was the only trace of warmth in that bleak place.
There were no voices in the neighboring cells.
Only silence.
She hadn't fully grasped it yet, and when she did, it came accompanied by small drops of blood running from her clenched fist. Her nails had dug deep into the palm of her hand, confirming that this was real.
The adrenaline from before had already drained away. Her body, dulled, reacted slowly—perhaps still under the effect of whatever had been in that dart.
And yet… moments later, she was laughing.
A short, bitter sound that echoed between the frozen walls.
To think she had to be brought down like a boar among trained warriors.
At least in that, she had the pleasure of causing a spectacle.
Leo let her head fall back against the stone wall, eyes half-lidded, breath shallow.
So this was it.
With difficulty, she tried to move her left arm. The tingling was intense, but with effort she managed to open her palm.
She wanted to prove to herself that she hadn't failed because she couldn't invoke her aura.
She couldn't be a complete aberration… not more than she already was.
She pressed her lips together, focusing. She imagined a force beyond her body, a color, a glow—a spark of light rising along her aurator.
Come on. Please.
If she could awaken even now, she could prove—
Prove what?
Her arm trembled with her insistence, but after several minutes of trying, the attempt only reinforced her irritation.
"Damn it—!" she growled through clenched teeth, slamming her body against the wall in fury.
She shouted and cursed, frustrated.
"I thought I'd lose the bet, but it seems I was right: 'Bellius will be screaming and thrashing in her cell like a spoiled child…'"
When she turned, she saw the last person she wanted to see.
Not that she wanted to see anyone. Not after everything.
Traitors. All of them.
Apparently, those chains were also there to keep her from adding another crime to her already extensive record.
"Who sent you here?" she spat as she saw Mariano crouched there. He looked more… put together. Hair trimmed, face clean. He might have been a handsome man to her eyes, if his personality didn't cancel out everything else.
"I'd start with a 'good morning,' but considering you've been here for three hours, I don't know if you even know what time it is." He stood, pulling a ring of keys from his pocket to open the cell.
It took him a while to find the right one, and Leo made a point of showing her boredom.
"It would've been better to stay alone than to waste saliva on you."
"So you'd rather keep your throat dry? I wonder if your pride is so great that it'll turn you into a foolish prisoner." He lifted a tray with water and food toward her.
She didn't answer. Not because she agreed, but because arguing with him was a waste of time.
"I hope you don't mind eating with a spoon. I avoided the fork because, given everything, I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to stab my eye out." Mariano knelt in front of her and released one of her wrists. "Not that I've done anything against you… after all, the one who set a trap for you was one of your best friends. I just brought lunch."
It was clear Mariano's intention was to provoke her, so she'd attack him. But Leo was a person, not a wild creature.
After stretching her freed arm, she drank every last drop of water and ate the portion of sliced meat with mashed potatoes and rice, ignoring table manners—or rather, cell manners.
During that time she didn't exchange a single word with him, merely listened as he rambled freely about the new training he was receiving now that he had officially assumed his post as an Herald. Mariano must have loved the sound of his own voice, or simply taken her silence as an opening to talk.
As if it were a distraction to get where he wanted, he tried:
"You didn't awaken your aura, did you?"
The last spoonful of her meal went down bitter with his question. Leo lifted her eyes, wondering how he could know that. Anyone would find that theory impossible—but considering that failing after the Awakening was also impossible, any theory was valid.
"Why do you think that?"
"What other reason would there be?" he shot back, tilting his head and crossing his arms. "Besides, you like to show off during training, and if someone humiliated you like that, you'd definitely show your aurator—not your collection of daggers."
He had a point. How could he 'know her so well'? During test preparations she'd barely interacted with him—maybe five times at most—or perhaps his face had simply blurred like all the others she used to train with.
"Instead of sticking your nose into matters you weren't invited to, why don't you tell me why you're here?"
"Well, if I'm here, it's because I was called. So I can ask whatever I want—not that you're obliged to answer, or even know what to say."
"Since when did you become so talkative? And besides, I didn't call you."
"If it's that important to you, I'll answer." He shrugged in surrender. "We drew straws to see who'd bring your lunch. Tamaya won, but she figured you'd be upset and that seeing my handsome face would calm you down a bit." He winked at her.
The explanation left Leo perplexed; the argument made no sense. Still, interacting with someone she disliked was going better than she'd imagined it would with any of her friends.
"If that's the case, Thalion would've been a better choice." The elf was handsome—even if not her type—but still better than this 'nothing' in front of her.
"He would've been the first option if he weren't involved in an investigation."
She raised her eyebrows as she understood the situation.
"An investigation?" she frowned. "He's part of the patrol, not the crimes division."
"Yes. But he was the one who found the first body two nights ago, lying near a bush by the barrier."
She leaned in, paying closer attention, waiting for him to explain what had happened during the three days she'd been unconscious. He didn't hold back and launched into it:
"That same night, not far from there, other knights and patrol members found three more bodies. They were spread out, about two kilometers between each one."
"I don't believe it's a serial killer," she concluded without hesitation. "If all the deaths happened on the same night, he'd have to be far too fast to kill three people without anyone hearing anything. In small villages, disappearances like that don't go unnoticed."
"He could have a carriage. Some way to move faster."
"Through the woods?" she lifted the corner of her mouth in irony. "The carts around here are old. At some point they'd break and make more noise than they'd help."
"Then maybe it was some kind of Demerian?"
"And what would a Demerian gain from killing a 'weak' Audrean?" she shot back. "Your theory doesn't hold."
"Oh, of course… And what's yours, oh great sage?" he sang out in challenge.
The abrupt shift in tone was almost unsettling. One moment they were trading barbs; the next, discussing the logic of a crime. She knew that, as skilled as she was in combat, her true strength lay in analysis. In logic, in attention to details few noticed—that was where her advantage resided.
But why was she helping him when she might die in who knew how many hours?
Silence settled for a few seconds. Both stared at the floor, listening only to the echo of footsteps against stone.
"Well… I'd better let you rest," he said, standing up. He brushed the dust from his clothes, picked up the tray, and stepped away.
Mariano didn't expect a response. He must have reached the same conclusion she had. Leo wasn't a Monteiro Knight, nor a Silver Herald. She was just one thing.
A condemned woman.
"Great, good riddance," she muttered. The interaction between the two of them was almost childish—especially in the way she lost her composed maturity around him. Almost as if she were talking to an older brother.
Leo lightly slapped her own face, trying to banish the thought.
Mariano arched an eyebrow, confused, before stepping closer to shackle her wrist again. After locking the cell, he said through the bars:
"I look forward to the day you punch the archduke in the face."
Leo let out a dry laugh through her nose.
"You're not the only one."
When his footsteps faded, the cell sank back into its former silence. It was a great lie on her part to say that talking to him hadn't been pleasant.
It was strange how calm she seemed in the face of her death sentence, yet dissatisfied with the fact that she had lost.
Everyone has their priorities, right?
She had died so many times already, and her last death certainly wouldn't be there.
Just as she was still far from giving up.