'Turns out it's not an all-seeing eye, after all…'
His vision blurred as he turned to face Eden again.
His chest burned as blood soaked through his shirt and ran down his stomach. Every breath hurt as if his lungs were full of glass. The sword in his hand trembled.
He could no longer tell if his fingers were holding onto it or letting go.
Thud.
His knees gave out, and the ground met his hug.
"Fud… ge…"
He cursed with an inaudible voice.
"I… don't want to die…"
Not like this.
Not this end.
Again, it was an obvious fact. He was not able to live his new life to the fullest yet.
There were still questions he found the answers to, dreams he had not achieved yet, and moments he had not been given the time to understand.
Everything felt like it had only just begun, and yet, it was already over.
Thump!
He could still hear his heartbeat, but then again, he could not feel it.
"I… don't want to…"
His eyes finally closed.
"...Die…"
***
In the Training Ground
Quiet.
The world was quiet, as Seven's wall pinned on the mansion's wall stopped beating.
The world was quiet, as if nature itself was flabbergasted from what had just happened, and as if time held its breath while snowflakes drifted slowly through the frozen air.
Seven's heart pinned like a cruel trophy to the mansion's wall stopped beating the moment Seven closed his eyes.
Step.
Eden stepped forward and crouched beside Seven's body.
She looked at the gaping hole in his chest, the cavity was raw and open, and the veins that still trembled faintly as if still in shock.
But her gaze did not falter.
In her expression, there was no hint of any emotion: be it sadness, grief, regret, or whatsoever.
She simply… stared.
Her reaction was a complete opposite from the original storyline.
The woman in the novel who cried and begged the heavens for being too late to save her dearest little brother was now the very one who ended his life.
And yet, she smiled.
It was not the twisted, gleeful grin of a psychopath reveling in destruction nor was it the soft smile of someone cherishing a memory.
It was hollow and an expression devoid of any substance as if her body mimicked an emotion her heart could no longer muster.
But her smile faltered when she felt a cold drip against her cheek.
Slowly, she raised her fingers and brushed them across her skin.
Blood.
Her smile faded completely.
She realized that Seven's sword did not miss after all, even after his heart being carved out as a thin and faint line of blood ran down her cheek.
She frowned.
It was the same as back then. In all honesty, it grazed the same exact place as it did back then.
At first, she had considered it to be a fluke and a coincidence yet it happened for the second time.
"A genius…"
She mumbled.
He thought that if Seven was given the time and opportunity to develop his prowess, there was a high possibility for him to surpass her.
Brush.
She brushed a strand of Seven's hair from his forehead.
Crackle! Cra—
A cyan-colored magic circled hovered above her palms as she casted a magic that only she knows what.
Right after, she stood up and looked towards the certain tree, where there were five figures wearing the same plain black mask.
"Is this enough?"
She asked.
But none of the figures responded.
Instead, one figure vanished in a blink then reappeared before her and crouched beside the fallen boy. They checked the fading pulse and brushed the edge of the hole in Seven's chest where his heart used to be.
After a pause, he stood.
"Commendable."
The figure said in a deep and gravel-edged voice.
"Thou hast proven thyself innocent in deed, if not in heart."
The figure turned his masked face slightly toward her.
"I shall deliver all I've witnessed to the Master. Verily, not a single word shall be omitted. Steel thyself… and await His final judgment."
The figure disappeared once more and was followed by the other four hiding themselves above the tree.
Eden only stood there in silence and gazed upwards at the sky.
"..."
For a long moment, she remained like that until she wiped a single teardrop that fell from her eyes.
***
In the Havin Household
A grand mansion stood beneath the crest of twilight, its entrance marked by a flowing purple banner emblazoned with a crescent moon.
Within, a long banquet table stretched across the hall, surrounded by fifteen high-backed chairs and was each occupied except for the one at the center.
At the far end of the table sat a girl with heterochromatic pink and lavender eyes, eating in a composed and quiet manner, yet the sole focus of the entire room.
"Aeloria."
The voice came from a man seated near the center. He had long and flowing hair the same deep shade of violet as his eyes.
Charles Von de Havin.
"Tomorrow, the eyes of the entire kingdom shall fall upon us.
"Upon you.
"You will not be seen as a child. You will be seen as a Havin.
"I trust you understand what it means to carry the Havin name under such scrutiny."
Aeloria did not respond.
Instead, she drew her shoulders in and she subtly curled her back as if shrinking herself could make her invisible beneath the sharp gazes of her older siblings.
Charles looked towards the empty seat at the center reserved for their father:
Archmage Maxvlque de Havin.
The Archmage has been away for more than a month, claiming to be taking care of such an important business.
"Some presences do not require a seat at the table to be felt."
Charles continued.
"And some expectations… do not need to be spoken aloud."
He set down his utensils with quiet elegance then lifted a crystal glass of water with his eyes still fixed on her.
Clang!
Aeloria's fork and spoon slipped from her fingers and struck the porcelain plate and it broke the rhythm of dinner with an audible tremor.
Accidentally.
"...My thanks for the meal."
From the side, a poised maid stepped forward instinctively and was ready to fetch a fresh set of utensils to replace it.
"There's no need."
She pushed her chair back and stood up.
"I've quite… had my fill."
Step.
She walked away from the table.
Her older siblings just looked at her as she walked away, but Charles, who was still seated, swirled the water in his glass idly.
"...Seven Hart."
He said.
Slowly, he sat down his glass and reached for the cloth beside his plate.
With a precise elegance, he dabbed the corners of his mouth as though concluding a royal banquet instead of a simple dinner.
Then, he lifted a single hand.
His wrist was adorned with four black stars, which signifies that his level was currently at the peak of the fourth ring.
Snap!
A sudden, soundless wave of Zaen rippled from his body.
The air turned sharp. The servants froze. Every sibling at the table straightened instinctively in their seats as if his power alone demanded posture.
Aeloria paused.
Charles did not have to say her name, as both the weight of zaen and his gaze was enough to make her pause.
"If you encounter Seven Hart during the examinations… you are to draw near.
"Secure him."
Charles paused and reverted the zaen back to his body. A collective breath followed as most of them almost suffocated from the pressure.
"He is your fiancé."
Charles added.
For again, another long moment, no one spoke. Neither did Charles as he allowed the weight of the sentence to settle.
"And if you cannot take the top spot, as is expected… then the very least you can do…"
He folded the towel neatly beside his plate.
"...is ensure that Seven Hart does not fall into the grasp of another family."
"...?"
Aeloria, however, listened but did not flinch nor offered a reaction. Instead, she continued to walk away from the table.
Step.
Step. Step.
The echo of her footfalls seemed louder than they were, but in the stillness, she remained a picture of composure.
In all honesty, she does not give a damn about the politics within the family such as her getting to be arranged with a child of a rival family.
She also does not care about the punishment she would receive from the Archmage, given that she had already enough idea as to what it could be:
Isolation.
In any case, that was more like a reward for her, especially that she had already made her decision:
"I… shall fail."
She whispered in a volume that only she could hear.
"Gloriously."