Cecilia's bitter laugh cut through the air like a knife. "What? So, staying was your self-imposed punishment? What a pitiful excuse, you can't even tell him who you are," she sneered, stepping closer, eyes blazing. "You say you stayed to protect him? No, Andrea. We both know the truth. You're here for yourself—to soothe your guilt, to quiet the claws tearing at your soul, you're too afraid to even show him your true face."
The tension snapped. Andrea's hand shot out, slapping Cecilia hard across the face. But Cecilia was undeterred—her palm crashed back with fierce, unforgiving force. Andrea staggered, her head whipping to the side, eyes wide with shock and pain.
"You claim you stayed to protect him," Cecilia spat, voice dripping with scorn, "but all you did was protect your miserable existence. This wasn't for him—it was for you. All of it."
Cecilia turned sharply, her footsteps echoing in the silence as she walked away. Then, without looking back, she stopped and declared with fierce resolve, "I will never let you hurt him again. No matter what it takes, I will protect him." She then dropped the locket she was holding.
Andrea sank to her knees, hands trembling as they covered her face. The weight of Cecilia's words crashed down on her, raw and unyielding. Sobs wracked her frame; a heart shattered anew by the brutal truth she could no longer deny.
Cecilia slammed the door of her cabin. "GAAAAAhhhhhh!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. She picked up a pillow and threw it across the room. "The nerve of that bitch, pretending to protect the captain, when it's obvious that this is all about her."
"You shouldn't be too hard on Chief Murillo," An eerie voice said from behind her.
Cecilia flinched and shrank where she stood. "Please don't hurt me!" she pleaded to the intruder.
"Why would I hurt you, Miss Bermudez?" Cecilia raised her head, and when she saw who it was, she slumped to the floor with a sense of relief.
"Triple-A?" Cecilia massaged her chest from the shock and fright. "Why would scare me like that? And how did you get inside my cabin?"
"Well, I am the archangel of death after all," Triple-A reminded Cecilia. "The barge of the dead is my realm."
The angel picked up a toppled chair, placed it upright, and sat down. "I believe you were a bit harsh on Chief Murillo, don't you think?"
Cecilia slumped on her bed. "Why shouldn't I be angry with her? When she was making a fool out of Chris all these years,"
"She has a good cause, you know. While she did hide her identity from him, she did not lie when she said that she protected and guided Chris through the years," Triple-A reasoned to Cecilia.
"But still…what she did was wrong," Cecilia said, doubling down on her impression.
Triple-A smiled and asked a question that stifled Cecilia, "If we are being honest, wouldn't you do the same thing if you were in her shoes?"
For a while, Cecilia could not speak or reply; the angel was right. Given the captain's sour disposition, she would have done the same. "I guess, I might have gone a bit ballistic." Cecilia hung her shoulders. "I guess I should go down on my knees and beg for her forgiveness."
"I wouldn't go that far." Triple-A quickly replied, "A simple apology would suffice. Besides, she needed to hear those words, so she could free herself from the prison that she made for herself," the angel explained, citing that her outburst had served a purpose.
"Sir Triple-A? I know this question comes out of the blue, but why was Chris chosen to be the captain?" Tears escaped her eyes and flowed freely. "It breaks my heart; every day, he pretends things will be all right."
Triple-A joined his hands as if praying and rested his forehead upon his hands for a while. He turned to the human and spoke, "I'm sure that by now you know that Chris's male lineage has been cursed by the old gods."
"But…but why?" She asked, her eyes glistened with the desire to know the truth."The original curse was meant to punish a man for his hubris and arrogance. Yet after he served his sentence, he showed no remorse or humility. His continued defiance and arrogance showed his lack of respect for the divine order and the gravity of his transgression. To enforce lasting justice and to deter future generations from repeating his insolence, the cosmic forces of life and death condemned his lineage to an eternal cycle of servitude and sacrifice." Triple-A paused for a bit after his explanation.
"The barge recognizes his violent, premature death as a powerful spiritual wound—a soul that died unjustly and violently resonates with the curse's demand for servitude and penance." The archangel's words, bit by bit, lifted the veil that shrouds the mystery of Chris's curse. "The curse demands a ferryman who can endure the weight of souls and the loneliness of eternal service. His violent death had left his soul strong, raw, and capable of withstanding the barge's consuming power, making him an ideal candidate. The barge chose him to continue the cycle, hoping that through his two hundred years as ferryman, he might come to understand humility, remorse, or acceptance—qualities the original man lacked."
"So, all he needs to do is not follow in his ancestors' footsteps?" She clarified, wanting to be sure that she understood him correctly.
"Easier said than done, I'm afraid," Triple-a countered, "Because when it comes to fighting one's instincts? Only those who have mastered their heart's wild call can claim victory over one's self"
"Why does the answer always have to be so vague?" Cecilia waved her arms exaggeratedly. "From movies to books, I mean… what's up with that?"
"Well, what's the point of hard work if you are spoon-fed the answer?" Cecilia shook her head, but what Triple-A asked caught her attention. "Do you know why you were given your abilities?" The angel asked, his tone serious but gentle at the same time. Cecilia shook her head, and the angel took her hand, clasping it with his. "It is so you could save him."
"But I don't know how, nobody knows how," Cecilia explained to the angel, "I'm so afraid that one day I'll wake up and see him as one of those portraits."
"He won't be one of those portraits; you will find a way to save him," Triple-A assured Cecilia.
The angel's words somehow soothed the chaos within her mind and heart. The angel patted Cecilia on the head, then stood up and left