Chapter Text
Chapter 1: The Sage
Rays of light dance on the beautiful blue currents of the Priestellan rivers as people go about their day. Mothers chat with their friends, holding baskets of appas on their arms. Despite the oppressive heat, no one complains.
To anyone walking over the clean cobblestone streets or gazing upon the city’s pristine architecture from the deck of a water-dragon-pulled boat, it would be hard to believe that this place was once a battlefield. Even if one were to search the sketchy back alleys of front businesses, the scars of terror that coiled around the throats of Priestella’s citizens would not be found. There are children in the city today who have lived their whole life without a single tear shed over the fear that the Witch Cult caused.
Demi-human girls and human boys play together on the same playground while their parents banter about the absolutely absurd price increase for water dragon carriages. The cost was raised by two silvers—how preposterous!
While the sun shares its rays with the world, a pronounced group could be found gathered on the northern side of the water gate city. A building with black spires, which are visible over the city’s walls, sits in the middle of a grassy plot of land. Between the spires, a rather ornate church sits. The wooden walls of this church are decorated with delicate carvings that communicate love through the written word. These words were not built into the church—rather, the churchgoers themselves felt the need to add them. Those carvings closer to the ground were rough, made by young hands that had just learned how to write. If one looks a bit higher, they’d see more elegant handwriting. The carvings appear white on the black-painted wood. Every corner or sharp turn is adorned in orange. Stained glass near the top of the church’s elevated roof depicts a faceless boy with familiar black hair gently cupping the cheeks of a little girl with blonde, drill-like hair.
Most importantly, on the nave’s roof, seven symbols sit like a cross would atop a Catholic Church. The depictions do not sit at equal elevations, with one at the very top and the others lined symmetrically beside it.
Each symbol represents the grace of the Sage Church’s prophet.
The one who saved the world by slaying the Witch of Envy.
The one who lines their churches without pews, but instead rooms for the freezing and kitchens for the starving.
The one whose strength comes from their weakness.
The Great Sage.
Today, before his followers, he presents himself as Natsuki Subaru—a 34-year-old man with a short black beard that shouts “prophet.” Standing on a stone slab to elevate himself, he is bent over with his arms across his chest. A voice amplification meteor hangs close to his mouth.
“And in one final stretch, raise your arms and shout—”
“Victory!”
A diverse crowd of young and old throw their arms up as they shout. Under the sun, the Sage Church’s prophet has beads of sweat falling off his brow. The crowd is a rectangle that has more rows than columns. Subaru looks to the front row of his procession before cracking a gentle smile.
Between strangers, eight little kids yell out with more energy than anybody else.
One is a boy who shares his dad’s fierce eyes.
Six are girls close in age, each with their own unique physical quirks.
One added “I suppose” after yelling “victory.”
Lowering himself off the stone pedestal, his children and spirit run to him without hesitation. Well, except for one of his daughters, who walks. Subaru is tackled to the ground by hugs that are so contagiously sweet that one couldn’t help but smile if they looked upon the family.
The rest of the crowd, out of common sense or reverence, do not interrupt the display of love between Subaru and his children.
“Maia? What’s wrong?”
Subaru addresses his eldest daughter as he is assaulted from all fronts by the rest of his kids. Everyone turns to face her. The 11-year-old Maia has her arms folded as she stands away from the rest of her family. Her light skin makes the red tips of her pointy quarter-elf ears all the more obvious.
The girl is silent for but a moment before an audible mumble escapes her lips.
“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.”
The family goes quiet before the father snorts. He can’t help but break into a full-blown laugh that has him holding his belly. The rest of his family also begins to giggle, although not as loudly as Dad.
“What? What’s so funny?!” Maia shouts as she stomps her foot on the fresh green grass. It only makes her father’s cackle more intense as he struggles to make words.
“What? Too—phew—grown up to show your old man some love? Come here!”
The eldest daughter’s eyes fly wide open as she watches her dad rise to his feet. He’s a bit slow with it, as he must gently peel his other children off his body so they don’t fall. When completely standing, though, he radiates a “threatening” aura. With his hands raised like the tickle monster, Maia begins to stammer.
“W-what are you going to do?”
Without answering, the man lunges forward with a threatening hiss. Maia screams before turning to run, but is ultimately no match in a contest of speed. The Prophet’s followers all move aside to make room for the father and daughter duo, watching as their revered figure begins to tickle his daughter. She howls into the crowd as the man taunts her.
“Don’t think you can escape my ultimate family bonding technique, passed down from my father to—woah!”
In one fell swoop, the 11-year-old daughter of the Natsuki family grabs her father’s arm and flips him onto his stomach. Pulling his arms behind his back with a stretch that is hard to look at, she smiles sadistically.
“Losing your strength there, old man? I’ll grant you mercy if you give up!”
“Not so fast!”
Being too short to restrain his entire body, and entirely way too light to keep him down, the patriarch of the Natsuki family stands up with ease. It takes all of Maia’s balance to keep herself up, but it’s not enough for a counterattack. With a swift movement, Subaru undoes his arms in a way that allows him to hold his daughter high in the sky. Unfortunately for her, her legs are just not long enough to kick her dad in the face. She thrashes in his arms.
“You might have your mother’s monstrous strength, but it is far too soon for you to be challenging your father! Give up, and I will let you down!”
“Me next, me next!” pleads Subaru’s youngest daughter, Celly, as she ignores the thrashing of her older sister. She has Subaru’s eyes but her mother’s short silver hair. Subaru turns his head with his lips parted before humming in acknowledgement.
“You should put Maia down before she bites you again, I suppose. You know that girl is afraid of heights, in fact,” suggests the Great Spirit of Yin, Beatrice.
“Not taking my side of things? Ah, my Beako has left me in the dust! It’s enough to make a man cry…!” Subaru says, his face showing an exaggerated sadness. Betty’s face flashes red, her foot slamming the grass like a little kid throwing a tantrum.
“While I am Subaru’s Betty, it’s embarrassing when you say such things out loud, in fact!”
The Sage Church’s prophet is only given a few seconds to flash his contract spirit a sly grin before one well-timed thrash allows his eldest daughter to partially free herself. As Subaru tries to establish control once again, Maia sinks her teeth into his wrist. The Church’s members can only lightly giggle as their savior yelps into the sky.
“Damn, Maia’s bites only hurt more as she gets older!” Subaru laments to himself as Noelle, one of his followers dressed like a nun, wipes off the mark with a wet, sterile cloth. Noelle was one of the founding members who helped build the church back when Subaru and his wife were traveling the world. As he gazes upon the mass of people around him, he can only think about how grateful he is to them all. After all, who else builds a church without being asked to do so but the most devoted?
“It’s your fault, Dad,” Maia pipes up. He turns his head to his eldest daughter, an obviously fake expression of vengeance on his face.
“I’ll get you next time, Miss Maia!” he responds. The youngest of his kids begin to chuckle, but the charm seems lost on the older ones.
Oh, well, he thinks to himself.
“We’re all going to be here for a while, I suppose?” Beatrice asks, walking up to her contractor.
“Yeah. We haven’t been to Pristella in, gosh, how long? Six months?”
“Eight, in fact.”
“Eight?! That’s all the more reason to stay for a bit! A lot can happen in eight months, you know!”
The great spirit lifts her arms with a shrug. A smug chuckle escapes her lips.
“Foo foo, in fact! Eight months is a long time for Betty’s Subaru? How weak-willed, I suppose.”
“Oh, don’t be like that, Beako. You know I can wait just as long for you as you did for me.”
He brings his free hand up to the top of his head, running his fingers through the peppered tufts of white that decorate his otherwise dark hair. Beako’s face goes red as she covers her mouth. Her butterfly-pupil eyes dart between Subaru’s face and the ground in a way that makes his body shake from pure cuteness.
It’s so bad, in fact, that he motions to Noelle to stop treating his hand. She nods respectfully before pulling away.
“W-Well, of course, B-Betty knows that…,” the Great Spirit mumbles. The Sage’s fists clench, unable to hold it anymore.
“Ah, so cute! My Beako is too cute!”
“Gah, in fact!”
In a split second, Subaru rushes over. Twirling the Great Spirit around as he holds her, he continues to sing her praises.
“The cutest spirit in the whole world! My Beako!”
“S-Stop it, in fact! Malicious contractor!”
Her expression opposes her protests. Even though they’ve been doing this routine for the past fifteen years, it never gets old.
“Me next, me next!” pleads Celly once again. Seizing the spin, Subaru puts Beako down to pat Celly’s hair.
“Maybe later, okay?”
“Why not now? Is Celly not cute, like Beako-oneechan?” Celly exclaims, tears beginning to pour from her eyes.
“That’s not what I—”
“Of course you’re not as cute as Betty, silly mortal girl. Betty is the cutest around!”
“Beako, you’re not helping!” Subaru reprimands. Celly’s crying picks up before he can do anything else, becoming a childish wail.
“Good going, Dad. You made Celly cry,” says Subaru’s only son, Taylor, with a mocking tone. A few of the other girls boo, adding to the already degrading atmosphere. Sweat begins to bead down Subaru’s forehead as he is forced to think quickly, lest his children maintain their ring of shame.
“How about this, Celly. During the parade, you can sit on Daddy’s shoulders! I’ll keep you up there the whole time! And we’ll grab whatever snacks you want!”
Her crying becomes quieter as his offer sits in her mind. After a few sniffles, she starts to speak.
“Really?”
“Yes, really,” Subaru says softly.
“Do you promise?”
“Pinky promise,” he affirms, holding out his pinky. Celly raises her hand, but wraps her pointer instead of her pinky. Her hands are so small, however, that even if she uses one of her larger fingers, it’s tiny compared to her dad’s smallest finger.
“You are just so gosh darned cute, aren’t you, my little Celly?”
The Sage’s hand ruffles her hair, which leads to a satisfied hum from the little quarter-elf.
“Hey, that’s not fair! Why does Celly get snacks and we don’t?” shouts Electra, his second oldest.
“Gah, it’s impossible to keep this many kids happy!” he complains internally as he stands up to acknowledge his group of rugrats.
“Daddy will come pick you guys up when the parade starts, okay? Until then—” he’s interrupted by a choir of disappointed hums, “—Hey. Until then, I want you all to go play with Beako-oneechan at the playground. What’s my one rule?”
The kids are silent for a moment before speaking up uncoordinatedly. The message is the same, despite their uneven timing:
“Make sure Beako-oneechan can see us at all times.”
“That’s right! If I have to come looking for you, your mother is going to be worried out of her mind!”
“What time does the parade start?”
“It starts at—umm…”
“Right at the start of Fire Time, Subaru-sama,” clarifies a churchgoer behind the Sage. He purses his lips, his chin scrunched as he looks at them.
That’s Lucip, right?
“Fire Time?! That’s in three hours! We'd better get started here, then, huh? Andry-tan is going to be upset with me if I’m late to a parade!” Subaru exclaims.
“Why would Mama care? It’s not like she’s going,” asks Celly.
“Apparently, Uncle Garf is going to be there! Mama said!” answers Taylor, moving his arms in an anime-like fashion. Subaru closes his eyes, a smile adorning his lips.
“I wonder who he got that from?”
Sterope, Subaru’s second youngest daughter, has her ears perk up upon hearing her uncle’s name. Excitement is palpable on her face as she jumps in place.
With his arms akimbo, Subaru gazes at his children with all the love in the world.
“Go play with Beako-oneechan, guys. Listen to what she says! If she’s telling you to do something, it’s for a very good reason!”
In response, he gets various methods of saying yes, from sarcastic to serious. Subaru can only facepalm as his group of rowdy kids begin to walk away.
“Come on, in fact!”
With her shout, they pick up the pace. For a few moments, Subaru can only watch them fade more and more into the horizon. A smile adorns his face.
I wonder if this is how Dad felt watching me grow up. Mom would have definitely reprimanded me if I talked to him like my kids do to me. Actually, Andry-tan would too, now that I think about it.
With his hand around his chin and mist in his eyes, the Sage’s followers all turn to each other. The moment of silence is broken when one brave woman steps up to their prophet.
“Subaru-sama? Is something the matter?”
He turns left to face who he believes is Mariee. A frown finds her face, causing Subaru’s focus to break.
“Huh?”
Subaru wipes his face, discovering tears that he hasn’t felt until now. The woman hands him a handkerchief that displays an open book—one of the seven symbols of the Sage Church.
“Thank you, Mariee. I don’t know what’s gotten into me!”
“Well, anyone would cry at the sight of such a beautiful young family.”
She points behind her, revealing that several among the group of worshippers are dabbing their own crying eyes. It takes the Sage a moment to register why they’re sobbing, but once he does, he begins to giggle.
“Really!? You guys—hahahaha! I’m…so grateful for you all.”
Subaru continues to wipe his tears using the borrowed handkerchief. It’s been like this for the past decade, yet he can’t seem to get over it.
How wonderful it is that he and his family are so loved across the world.
How wonderful it is that he has a family and followers who care about him so strongly.
How wonderful it is to love the world’s inhabitants as they love you.
I wish you could be here to see it, Mom, Dad. You would have loved your grandchildren.
A smile brighter than the sun beams on the Sage’s face.
“Oh, Asmil! How has it been, man? How’s your father?” Subaru calls.
Behind Asmil, a line that wraps around the church three times has formed. It’s been two hours, and yet this many people still want to see him! Subaru stands beside the stone pedestal, which has several bottles of water in various states of fullness adorning its surface. There are also crates with water bottles, which he has been handing out to every person who comes before him. Some volunteers have also been passing out water to the various people waiting in line—he can’t have people who want to see him passing out while they wait!
Each person gets a maximum of two minutes to speak to their Sage before they must wait in line again. Therefore, as he greets Asmil, a volunteer clicks a timer in their hand. Subaru breathes through his teeth quietly, a small act of rebellion toward what he believes to be a reprehensible practice. However, when so many people come to see him, there have to be rules in place lest someone take up all of his time by themselves. To make up for this, the Sage doesn’t plan on leaving Priestella until he’s talked to every person in line at least once. He even has their names all written down so that he doesn’t forget who came to see him today. With a decade of experience as the Sage Church’s prophet, Subaru has become excellent at being just the kind of man he needs to be.
“You remembered?” Asmil asks. His eyes shoot open, wrinkles making their way up his bald head. He’s a giant, much like Old Man Rom was.
I don’t think I’ve seen many giants since that old man passed away—I wonder why? Subaru ponders before addressing the man before him.
“Of course! I remember everyone who comes to see me—and their stories.”
“Well, that’s actually why I came here today. You see—the doctors are saying he’s going to make it.”
“Seriously?!”
“Yes! I got the news just this morning. When I heard that you got here yesterday, Subaru-sama, I just knew I had to come visit.”
“Would you allow me to live through that moment with you so I can feel as you did?” Subaru asks. The man grabs the Sage’s hands with stars in his eyes. The giant’s hands are so large that Subaru can’t even see his own anymore.
“Subaru-sama, I would be most honored!” he proclaims intensely. With a subtle nod, the Sage closes his eyes. His mind pulls in a familiar fashion as his soul connects to Asmil’s.
Nothing but the memories of the dead lie within the metaphysical plane, but Subaru can feel the wind blowing in his hair. Where he’s going, the Corridor of Memories has no access.
“Authority of Gluttony: Mind’s Library.”
My name is Natsuki Subaru. My name is not Asmil Gorock.
The previous wielders of Gluttony would all compare the sensations of memories to those of flavor.
Happiness was sweet.
Anger was spicy.
Despair was…bitter? Subaru never remembered that one.
But the mouth is not the only part of one’s body that can consume. The ears take in noise, the nose takes in air, and the eyes take in light. Altogether, a fundamental truth can be found:
The mind consumes experience.
It calculates every action one takes so that they can do it better next time. Repeating the same encounters over and over while one sleeps, the mind plays the experiences it consumes like hitting rewind and play on a remote for eight hours straight.
That’s right. This experience is like a movie.
My name is Natsuki Subaru. My name is not Asmil Gorock, the Sage chants in his mind.
A blanket of white lifts from the giant’s vision. Goosebumps crawl on his arms like bugs on his skin—Asmil laments not bringing a jacket. Healers walk about the lobby, their eyes hyperfocused like mice crawling through a pipe. The giant’s massive legs pump on the ground, subtly moving the roughly cushioned chair he’s sitting in.
It’s the only one big enough for him.
His head stays faced down, eyes finding patterns in the tile floor. Despite the mind’s wandering, his heart continues to pull it back to attention with its thunderous beats.
He hasn’t received an update from his father in a week. He never goes this long without at least sending a messenger. That’s why, when he heard that the doctors needed to see him immediately, he came rushing in from work. Hell, he practically knocked over fruit stands in his wild dash here.
But if they needed to see me so badly, why am I waiting for so long?!
Asmil’s eyes dart up to the time crystal near the wall. Its green glow shows that it's still early morning Wind Time, but the intensity hasn’t changed one bit. Has it even been five minutes?
Goodness, what am I so riled up for? Subaru-sama gave me his Best Wishes, didn’t he?
“My name is Natsuki Subaru. My name is not Asmil Gorock,” calls a voice commanding over the space, as it has come from the heavens. Asmil doesn’t hear it, though—no one does.
It’s not unusual for a reader to get so sucked into a book that they can no longer see the cover’s seam in the corner of their eyes. It’s even less unusual for a person watching TV to get so sucked into the screen that they no longer see the outline of the television. To take it one step further—to allow oneself to be consumed by the screen so they can become the protagonist—that is the nature of Mind’s Library.
But Natsuki Subaru is no protagonist, for this is not a story.
This is not a story, for this is real life.
And this life—these memories—they don’t belong to him.
My name is Natsuki Subaru. My name is not Asmil Gorock. For this reason, I cannot continue to live in the screen.
If anyone in the giant’s memory could react to Subaru’s presence, they’d see a man floating out of the giant’s body like his soul was being separated from it. As the Sage continues to pull back, the corners of Asmil’s mind become visible to Subaru’s eyes. He can look away from the memory to view his own hands. No longer deep in the man’s experience, Subaru finds his legs kicking around in a new space, one that allows him to watch Asmil’s memories from the third person. The space that holds him and the Mind’s Library is a bright mix of colors—the giant’s temperament is certainly positive.
He can still feel air coursing through his lungs. A gentle breeze passes through his hair—that must be from outside. Before he can keep checking his surroundings, the Mind’s Library plays its next scene.
“Asmil Gorock?”
The giant snaps his head up, catching sight of a nurse with a clipboard.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, a monotony barely masking the shake in his voice.
“This way, please.”
The mind’s plane catches his vision once again, reminding him that he is merely a spectator. As the giant walks through the liminal halls, a sense of nostalgic dread sits in Subaru’s chest.
Those feelings are the Sage’s, however. He can certainly surmise that Asmil’s mind is amuck with overthought as his shaky legs cascade through the hospital, but he can’t feel it. When taking a perspective just outside of the Mind’s Library, the head’s connection to the heart is broken.
Reading a Book of The Dead carries the risk of having a dead person’s memory corrupt those of the living, but only if the reader is mentally compromised. With Mind’s Library, which reads the memories of the living, this consequence can happen to anyone. To eliminate the risk of being Asmil Gorock when he leaves the Mind’s Library, the Sage is required to separate the mind and the heart.
That is, unless he connects the two in a different way.
“Authority of Wrath: Bleeding Heart.”
Sometimes, when Subaru activates his Authority of Wrath, he thinks of Priscilla Barielle’s final moments.
Is this how you felt when you called the world beautiful? When you proclaimed that the world was made for your convenience?
While his head is in the Mind’s Library, his Heart is clearly outside. That is because, like a puppet’s strings, his Heart is now connected to every bird in the sky. The fatigue in their wings culminates in his shoulders.
Like a puppet’s strings, he is connected to every person waiting in line. No one is thirsty—his volunteers are doing a good job.
Like a puppet, he is moved by the whims of others—but just as that was never the role of the Vollachian princess, it is not the role of the Sage. Thus, upon once again concluding that the fiery woman felt differently upon her death than he does while using his authority, her final words once again help the man fulfill his role.
In the mental plane, Subaru can see what appears to be a wall outlet near the screen of the Mind’s Library. With just enough focus, the strings that are protruding from his Heart like a birdcage fold in on themselves until they form a single, thick cable.
He knows he’s connected to Asmil’s heart when he watches the cable plug itself in. If the added-up feelings of all those outside felt like static, then this feels like a clear picture. Subaru had assumed that Asmil felt nostalgic dread, but as the giant’s real feelings of ferocious anxiety cause an unstoppable tremor in the Sage’s limbs, he is humbled. Subaru takes a deep breath as his mind panics, unsure of where the feelings are coming from. While it wracks to try and justify the feelings, the Sage knows better.
He is not here to understand. He is here to feel.
…
…
On the screen, Subaru watches as the giant’s head almost touches the ceiling. The squeezing walls of the hallway warp as if they plan to continue forever. Like the blunt edge of a blade, the corners of metallic tables batter his shins, drawing attention from all those in the hall.
But the charge doesn’t stop.
Between an unreadable sign, a crossroads is formed. The left path is illuminated with
magic lights that leave no corner unlit. The pathway is clear of all medical supplies, ending abruptly at a door with no window.
Asmil turns his head, finding that every magic light on the right path is dim. The tile is seasoned with the scrapes of shoes and wheels, marks leading to countless doors. Like two mirrors reflecting each other, doors sit on the walls symmetrically, expanding into a darkness with no answer.
Asmil’s giant hips turn right, but the nurse grabs his left hand.
“This way, please.”
Air escapes his lungs like a pressure cooker through the nose. The beat of his heart changes key. As the nurse pushes the door open, a sea of light rushes through the hallway.
Behind the current of rays, several chairs are lined. People sit in these chairs, their faces drawing no familiarity. That is, until the man’s eyes catch sight of an older man reading a newspaper.
“Asmil, huh? Took you long enough.”
“Dad…?”
There’s no mistaking it—that’s his voice.
“What’s gotcha lookin’ like a little kid? This ain’t your first time here, bud.”
“Well…if you’re in here, that means—”
His father’s thunderous laugh breaks Asmils’s words. The old man’s smirk radiates confidence.
“Did you really think some cancer was gonna kick my ass? If the Sword Saint didn’t take my life during the war, ain’t no way some nasty cells will.”
The screen becomes hazy. Or is it the screen?
“Complete remission. That’s what the doctors say, at least,” confirms Asmil’s dad.
Suddenly, the walls of the hospital become less of a vice. In fact, this room was always wide open, wasn’t it? The light reduces its intensity, highlighting every wrinkle on the old man’s skin. Hot tears stream down Asmil’s face as he feels a sting on the tip of his nose.
The father’s embrace is warm. Even his dismissive chuckles are a breath of fresh air. Ice continues to melt in the soul for a few moments before the screen of the Mind’s Library slowly fades to black.
With the Mind’s Library ending its showing, Subaru’s eyes open. He has to blink a few of the tears out.
Asmil’s father isn’t the only person he’s met with cancer, nor the only one who has beaten it. That being said, when the Heart is allowed to feel while the Mind is disconnected, the body does not remember the experience. As such, every remission feels like the very first.
That’s why, as he draws the giant into a hug, it’s like he was right there with him. Subaru can tell that Asmil is being gentle with his massive arms because if he weren’t, then the Sage’s back would have popped by now.
“... Beautiful. I’m so happy for you, Asmil,” Subaru says between a choked sob.
The man does not speak—he doesn’t need to. Bleeding Heart already tells the Sage of his gratitude. They hold the position for a few moments, only breaking when Subaru disconnects his authority.
"Goodbye" is reserved only for those one may not see for a while, if ever again. That’s why, with his hand on the giant’s shoulder, the Sage has only one thing to offer.
“I grant you my Best Wishes.”
After a deep bow between the two, the giant takes his leave. Subaru takes a bottle of water off the pedestal, swigging a decent amount of liquid to beat back the evening sun. Grabbing a different bottle of water from an open crate, he nods to let the volunteer know that he is ready to see the next person.
Cocking his head, Subaru sees a grown man with a book in his arm. Subaru’s eyes go wide, for the tome is thicker than the churchgoer’s forearm. He’s carrying a hardcover, one with a symbol of a broken heart stitched together with thick ropes embroidered on the back.
Another symbol of the church.
It’s a book Subaru recognizes instantly—why wouldn’t he? He wrote it, after all.
As the man approaches, the book’s cover comes more into view. The edges and spine are held together with a thick orange fabric. The surface of the tome is jet black with white letters spelling out the title.
The True History of the World.
“Ah, good morning, Subaru-sama! I was genuinely curious as to whether I was going to see you as Subaru-sama or Schwartz-sama today. Priestella has had the pleasure of greeting Schwartz-sama the past three times you’ve been here, after all,” the man holding the tome greets. Taking a closer look at his features, Subaru squints.
He kinda looks like Gerald, but hasn’t he changed a bit? I mean—
“—You have on an eyepatch—did something happen?” Subaru asks.
“Oh, silly me. I’ve got my stronger eye covered, something about forcing the weaker one to work harder.”
“You never expressed an interest in healing your lazy eye to me. Has it truly been so long?”
“Well, I was picking up my son one morning, and boom!” the man throws his arms up dramatically, “he goes and drops something in my good eye. I couldn’t see for a few hours after that. After bumping my little toe against the table for the third time, I decided that perhaps I should do what I can to make both eyes good.”
“But to cover up your good eye and come outside, holding that book no less—are you sure that’s okay?”
The man sighs, putting his head in his free hand.
“Now, I mean no disrespect, Subaru-sama, but if the contents of this here tome are to be believed, then you are the last person I wanna hear that kinda concern for. You lost the eye that I currently have covered up in a loop sixteen years ago, didn’t you?” Gerald scolds. After stammering for a few seconds, Subaru sheepishly rubs the back of his head.
“But that was a failed loop. I still have both eyes today, see!” he says, forcefully opening both eyes with his hands. Gerald gives him a low chuckle before continuing.
“Failed loop, schmailed loop. You still lost it! To that Gustekan assassin of all people…”
A shiver travels up Subaru’s spine in a way that he makes sure is visibly noticeable. Of course, he makes a dorky expression while doing so.
“That’s not a particularly good one to remember, man! I can only thank Satella that I got to keep my eye after that.”
“To thank the same woman who cursed you with immortality—you truly are something else, Subaru-sama,” Gerald compliments.
“Well, there’s no way I could forget a love like hers—not even after 400 years,” Subaru concludes solemnly. After a shared moment of silence between the pair, Gerald begins to speak.
“Regardless, I find that forcing myself to go outside while I train my eye gets me more used to it. Plus, after I heard that you, Andromeda-sama, Beatrice-sama, and all the kids were in Priestella, I just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to have you sign my copy.”
The man lifts the book closer to Subaru’s face using both hands. The book’s thick contents clearly stress his arms, for if it were any heavier, Subaru believes he’d see the man’s elbows snap in the other direction. Watching Gerald’s arms struggle so much is enough to make Subaru snatch it from his hands. They trade the man’s book for the water Subaru had grabbed for him earlier.
“... Hmm. Are there a few pages missing out of here?” Subaru asks the man. Gerald tilts his head with a frown.
“I’m confident that every page is there, completely clean. I’m not the kind to use religious books as coasters, you know,” the man chuckles, “Why do you ask?”
Subaru extends his arms all the way out before lifting the book up and down several times. With duck lips, he analyzes the book’s cover.
“I just get a feeling that this book gets lighter every time I hold it, you know?”
“Well, I’m sure I’m not the only one who asks for your autograph, Subaru-sama. You’ve been holding that book for a little over a decade—I would expect it to feel lighter to you as a result.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
With a nod, the Sage brings the book to his hip with one arm. After sifting the remaining hand through his left pocket, he takes out a black ball-point pen.
I’m so lucky one of my followers made this for me! It makes signing autographs so much easier compared to a fountain pen! Otto even gets to profit from it, Subaru thinks with a mischievous grin. After removing the pen cap with his teeth, he put the point on the blank sheet following the cover.
“... Subaru-sama, if you don’t mind me asking, why do you find yourself in Priestella?”
Gerald’s voice is mumbly, almost like a little boy trying to tell a secret.
“Huh? Oh, because we’re here to watch the parade! My little Electra heard the Queen of Lugunica was going to be doing a parade here. I couldn’t get her to stop begging until we agreed to come!”
The man is silent for a few seconds as Subaru scribbles in the book. Then, with a sheepish voice, Gerald pipes up.
“Is that really okay with you? I mean, I don’t want to question your judgment, but the Queen and you have…history.”
His face is locked in a grimace, hands holding each other. The Sage’s eyes fly open as he realizes what he’s talking about.
“Ah! That must also be why you remembered to bring the book for me to sign, huh?”
“... It’s embarrassing, but yes. If the Queen and her Parliament attempt to censor your holy words again, I want to have a way to distinguish the genuine copy from any watered-down ones.”
“I just knew that my being here, along with the parade, had you connecting some dots in your head!”
“Kinda. It’s just—are you really sure, Subaru-sama? Seeing her here won’t upset you? She did a lot more than try to censor you.”
Subaru goes silent for a few moments as he finishes writing his signature. With a delicate movement, the Sage closes the cover just soft enough so that he doesn’t accidentally startle Gerald.
“I’m sure that I would have asked myself the same question twelve years ago. I guess—you have a wife, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you think about your teenage crush while in bed with her?”
“Heavens, no! What kind of question is that?”
“It’s the same one you just asked me.”
“... I’m not sure I follow.”
Placing one hand on his chin, Subaru makes a humming sound.
“Your wife is Sarah, right? She has green hair and a mole on her forehead?”
“Yes, sir. Your memory astounds me every time.”
“Tell me, what are her favorite flowers?”
“That’s easy—white roses.”
“How do you prepare food for her?”
“Well, it depends on the dish. My Sarah is a big fan of solt, so I tend to pour a bit more in there just for her. The kids complain about it a bit, but seeing her face light up after working all day just feels that more fulfilling, you know.”
Subaru lets a small smile slip by as he thinks about his Andry-tan.
“I certainly do know—that’s why I had to ask. Now, I’m certain you fancied a woman as a young man, yes? One who wasn’t your wife?”
“Yes, I’m sure I did.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“Uhh… I think it was Mary? Or Mad—yes, Madison!”
“What color are Madison’s eyes?”
“... Excuse me?”
“What color are Madison’s eyes?”
Gerald makes various mouth noises as he thinks. Despite all the angles he tilts his head, no matter how hard he squints his eyes—despite how hard he ponders:
“Now that you mention it, Subaru-sama, I can’t remember. That’s so weird…”
“Well, I can’t remember either, Gerald.”
“You can’t remember? Of course you can’t, you never met—oh!”
To Subaru, it’s like watching a lightbulb above his head beam on as his eyes fly open. With a closed-eyed nod, Subaru hums in approval. His arms stretch to hand Gerald the book that looks heavier than it feels.
“... As always, I am impressed by your wisdom, Subaru-sama.”
“You flatter me. Thank you for coming to see me on such a busy day.”
“But, of course—I can speak for everyone here when I say that getting the privilege to see you is grander than any parade.”
“Ah, now you’re just tooting my horn! Get outta here, you!”
With an exaggerated shooing gesture, they both giggle.
“Wait, actually. I almost forgot,” Subaru says.
“Hmm?” Gerald hums.
“I grant you and your family my Best Wishes.”
The man turns his body completely toward the Sage before bowing respectfully.
“We are all very grateful, Subaru-sama.”
There should be 56 more minutes left before I go pick up the kids—if everyone else is anything like Asmil and Gerald, then I’ll say that it’ll be time well spent, Subaru thinks to himself. After a few waves, he grabs a new bottle of water for the next person in line.
When referring to “the playground,” there is only one place in Priestella that Subaru and the kids talk about. Aside from the Church in the morning, this is the kid’s favorite place to be in the whole city. As usual, it is bustling with other mortal children. The floor of the playground sinks lower than the sidewalk. Wooden chips replace the cobblestone flooring, which Beatrice believes to be a safe decision. After all, the space has a big, metal contraption her contractor calls “monkey bars.” If the floor were made of that hard stone, then she’d be a ton more wary about Taylor’s foolish behavior.
Seriously, what kind of person locks his legs around the bars so he can do crunches in front of girls?!
…
There’s a lot of her contractor in that boy, it would appear.
Away from the playground, the Great Spirit is resting on a bench. It’s spaced just far enough away so that she can see all the kids engage in silliness.
“Beako-oneechan?”
Turning her head to the left, Beatrice’s eyes land on a tanned quarter-elf girl. Her purple eyes are shaped like those of Betty’s contractor, complimented by her soft, long silver hair. Her little hands are behind her back as she places one leg in front of the other. Despite calling the Great Spirit’s name, she’s not looking her in the face.
“Electra-chan? Why are you so nervous before Betty, I wonder?”
Rather than answering directly, the girl grabs the bench and propels herself up. With a straight back and a stare toward the playground, Electra purses her lips.
“I wanted to talk to both you and Mama, but I don’t know how to talk to Mama about it. Do you promise you won’t be mad, Beako-oneechan?”
Betty’s eyes narrow at the girl.
“How unusually…formal, in fact. But if Electra, of all the girls, wants to ask something of Betty, then it must be pretty serious,” the Great Spirit justifies.
“It depends on what you have to tell Betty, I suppose.”
“But I’m not going to tell Beako-oneechan until she promises she won’t be mad.”
“Don’t be stubborn, in fact.”
“You first.”
An air of silence floods the space between the quarter-elf and the spirit for only a moment. At least, it felt like a moment to Beatrice—to the second-eldest daughter of the Natsuki family, it was more like two minutes.
“I know that you and Mama don’t want to be here,” Electra explains with a mutter. Beatrice would pump her fist for winning the waiting game, but it doesn’t feel appropriate.
“... Betty did resist teleporting everyone here yesterday. Is that weighing on your mind, I wonder?”
“No, it’s just that—I kinda, sorta, well…”
“Take your time.”
Electra folds her hands together while looking toward her lap.
“After Papa and Mama put us to bed back in Vollachia, I got up and heard you guys talking.”
“Betty made sure to cast a sound-blocking spell around all of your bedrooms, in fact. That must mean that you were out of your room and eavesdropping, I suppose.”
“That’s why I wanted you to promise me that you wouldn’t be mad! You won’t tell Mama or Papa, will you?”
The little quarter-elf holds her hands together in a plea, a whiny expression adorned on her face. She’s completely turned toward the Great Spirit, who crosses her arms with a hmph.
“Well, if you look so desperate, then Betty will have no choice. What a needy girl, I suppose.”
“Thank you, Beako-oneechan!”
Electra wraps her arms around the Great Spirit, tightening an embrace that would break her back if she had one.
“Ah! Betty can’t breathe, in fact!”
“Oh! I’m so sorry!”
She lets go, and Beatrice dusts off her dress. After a quick exhale, the Great Spirit begins to speak.
“So? I take it that you overheard your mother and me asking your father to reject your request to come to Priestella?”
“... Yes. I just don’t understand.”
“What is it that you don’t understand, I wonder?”
“When I talk to old people, they all say something about how Lugunica used to have a whole section near the capital where people lived in shacks. There were entire restaurants where people like my Mama and I weren’t allowed to enter. People used to call women like Mama…you know. All of that changed after Emilia-sama took the throne, right?”
The Great Spirit’s gaze turns back to the playground, watching the other kids. Celly is throwing woodchips at some of her friends—typical.
“Betty doesn’t like to admit it, but that girl has done some good for this nation, in fact.”
“See! Exactly that! Why do you and Mama hate Emila-sama so much? If she’s done so much good, then why…?”
With a sigh, Beatrice takes Electra’s hand. Her lips purse as her grip tightens.
“Betty’s contractor doesn’t allow you to read his book, I suppose. It’s no wonder you don’t understand. It’s something you wouldn’t understand, but—”
“Then help me understand! Why do you and Mama get so weird when I talk about Emilia-sama? Did I do something wrong?”
…
“Oh.”
“Do not misunderstand Betty, in fact. Electra-chan did nothing wrong. It’s just, well—”
“Beako, you and Andry-tan have every right to feel the way you do about the Queen of Lugunica. There was a time I felt the same, and I too was justified. Electra, though, wasn’t even alive when all of it happened. All she sees is a woman who made it so she could walk the streets of the capital without scrutiny. I don’t want old resentments to guide my girl’s life. I can count on the two number ones in my heart to protect me from the Queen, but that woman won’t do to Electra what she did to me. I need you two to trust me on that, okay? So let my girl look up to the woman who made it so she doesn’t have to hide her pointy ears in public,” echoes Subaru’s voice in the Great Spirit’s head. Beatrice purses her lips, turning to the quarter-elf beside her.
“—Betty is afraid that the truth will break your heart, Electra-chan.”
“Then let my heart be broken! It’s better than this weird stalemate we have going on. Papa practically had to beg you guys to let me see the parade, and I can’t help but feel like I’m dragging you and Mama along with me! Hell, Mama isn’t even coming!”
“Language, little one.”
“Beako-oneechan!”
A heavy sigh leaves the Great Spirit’s lips as she rubs her eyes with her free hand. The events she has to tell are not appropriate for little ears, especially not as they pertain to their father. It’s already too much that they know about Return by Death, but there is one thing she can tell Electra.
This is my compromise with you, Subaru.
“Bring all your siblings here, I suppose. You all deserve to hear what Betty has to say.”
“...? That was fast. I didn’t expect Beako-oneechan to change her mind like that,” she says, snapping at her final word.
“Don’t be fooled, I suppose. You will hear everything when you are ready. Just…for now, Betty wants you all to know the kind of woman you’ll be seeing at this parade.”
“Jeez, way to sound ominous. I’ll be right back—just don’t change your mind, okay?”
“Betty isn’t some flippant spirit, in fact.”
It takes Electra five minutes to get everyone. Merry appeared to be the most difficult—apparently, she was in the middle of a game of tag.
“Beako-oneechan? What is so important that you needed everyone to be here?” asks Taylor. Everyone is standing around the Great Spirit in a semicircle, with no one resting next to her on the bench. She scooches a bit to be in the center before clearing her throat.
“Y…Yeah. Beako-oneetan is serious,” comments Celly.
She still struggles so much with her ch’s—how cute, I suppose.
“Today, during the parade, the Queen and King Consort of Lugunica will be present.”
“Well, duh. That’s why we came,” Taylor says with a shrug. The Great Spirit closes her eyes, clamping down on her teeth.
“Don’t interrupt Betty. I’m in no mood for any shenanigans, in fact.”
The boy stiffens up as the words leave her lips. They’re a bit harsh, but Beatrice is not here to give them a bedtime story. After leaving the air silent for a moment, she speaks up once again.
“Let’s see how many of you have been keeping up with your studies—who is the King Consort of Lugunica?”
“Julius Juukulius!” answers Electra in a heartbeat. Her hand shot up before she answered, jumping in place.
“Correct! What is the King Consort’s role?”
Despite Beatrice’s assumptions, Electra places her hand on her chin to think.
“The role of the King Consort is to protect and enforce the word of the Queen. He is also to act as the military general when given orders by the Queen to mobilize. To summarize, he is the Queen’s protector and enforcer,” Alcyone answers with her hands behind her back.
Is this girl really eight years old?! Why does she sound like a textbook?! thinks Beatrice, her eyes wide open.
“I’m having a Subaru moment—good thing all things I think don’t need to fly from my mouth, I suppose.”
“That is correct, in fact. In Lugunica, Queen Emilia bestows orders, and King Consort Julius Juukulius makes sure it is done. However, before Emilia became the queen, she did not have a King Consort,” the Great Spirit explains. The children are all silent, despite the fact that Beatrice expected to be interrupted with questions.
“Betty won’t bore you with the specifics, but before Emilia was the Queen, she was a Royal Selection Candidate. And, before she had a King Consort, she had a Knight.”
“We’ve heard all this before, Beako-oneechan. Mom wouldn’t let us come to the Queendom without knowing all this, so why are you repeating it?” Maia asks.
“Well, because Julius wasn’t the Queen’s Knight, in fact. He was the Knight of a different Royal Selection Candidate—a woman named Anastasia Hoshin.”
“Huh? Then who was the Queen’s Knight?” Electra pipes up, her head tilted with a frown.
“Natsuki Subaru, in fact.”
“... DAD?!” Taylor shouts, stepping back. The expressions on all their faces matched the boy’s energy. Eyes wide enough to pop from their skulls, mouths agape—could this all really be so surprising? Beatrice wasn’t sure.
“Papa wasn’t always with Mama?” asks Sterope. Her little eyes have become a bit misty, so the Great Spirit lets herself down from the bench to wipe them.
“Yes, in fact. Your Papa was the Knight to the Royal Selection Candidate Emilia before he met your mother. He was only…eighteen? Betty believes?”
“So he’s always been an old man,” Taylor mumbles. Rather than acknowledge him, however, Beatrice pets Sterope on the head.
“Were they married?” asks Maia. The Great Spirit’s head shakes as she stares at her.
“No, but he did love her. Betty would surmise that Emilia was the first woman he loved, in fact. That being said—”
“She didn’t return those feelings,” Electra interrupts with a deadpan. To the Great Spirit, the little girl’s thoughts are obvious. She doesn’t even need to take her mana to read them.
“No, she did not. That being said, that is not the reason Betty and your mother were hesitant to bring you all to this parade, I suppose.”
“... I mean, I wasn’t going to say it, but I thought it was weird that Mom didn’t wanna come,” Alcyone says quietly. The rest of the kids nod their heads.
“While your father was still the Knight to Emilia, he had been taken to the Vollachian Empire by a mysterious force. On the mission to get him back, Julius’ liege, Anastasia Hoshin, lost her life.”
Beatrice pauses for any reactions or questions, but none come.
“When everyone was brought back home, Emilia and Julius got along really well. So well, in fact, that they decided to get married before Emilia was crowned queen."
Taylor grimaced audibly at the revelation, holding his stomach. The Great Spirit jumped back on the bench during that time.
“Poor old man,” he whispers.
“That marriage happened on your father’s nineteenth birthday, in fact. Emilia knew of your father’s feelings but decided to marry a different man on his birthday.”
The kids react in various ways. The younger ones—Celly, Sterope, and Merry—all shared frowns.
“That’s allowed?” asks Merry. The naivety of her question truly matches her age.
“I can tell why you aren’t too keen on her, but I have to ask—” Alcyone chimes before being interrupted by Electra.
“Is that why you and Mama don’t like the Queen? Because she married another man on Papa’s birthday?”
“While that is certainly cruel, Betty does not hold such ridiculous grudges. When you are all old enough to read your father’s book, you will get the full context. For now, though, there are two things that Betty wants you all to understand.”
The Great Spirit holds up one finger while standing on the bench like a pedestal.
“First, and most importantly, Betty does not wish that Subaru married Emilia. Your mother is a far more impressive woman who is much better for him, in fact. Beyond that, though, you all would not exist if he had married the Queen. For that reason in particular, Betty has no regrets about blessing the marriage between your father and mother, in fact.”
Beatrice raises her second finger.
“Secondly, the feelings that your mother and Betty hold toward the Queen of Lugunica are complicated. There will come a time when we deem it appropriate for you all to know the specifics, but for now, only one thing can be said as fact.”
She holds her breath for a moment, closing her eyes as she searches for words. A deep breath escapes her lips when her eyes open. Each of the children looks to Beatrice with no distraction.
“If this makes you nauseous, then it would behoove you not to go looking for answers. If that marriage makes you question how you feel about the Queen of Lugunica, then the events that follow it will make you despise her with the very fabric of your soul. My contractor, your father—he does not wish that young minds such as yours be corrupted with such hatred, in fact.”
The Great Spirit closes her fist like a conductor ending an orchestra. Her gaze is held strongly, particularly on Taylor, who looks like he may puke onto the grass if she continues.
“... I just wanted to see the parade,” whispers Electra. Her head is downcast, hands twitching. The Great Spirit jumps off the bench before walking toward her.
“And you are allowed to, in fact. Despite the history between the Queen and your father, she has still accomplished what rulers of the past could not for this nation. All Betty wishes is that you know you can look up to the Queen, and your mother and I can be wary of her, at the same time. We have our reasons, just as you do. Those reasons all fall on the Queen herself. We do not love you any less because we feel differently from you, in fact. Betty does not look down on you because you look up to a woman in power who has ears like yours.”
“Then why are you telling us this? Why now? Why did you ask me to bring everyone here?” Electra asks, rapidly firing her queries.
“Betty asked you to bring your siblings because she didn’t want anyone to feel left out, I suppose. As for the other questions—”
The Great Spirit brings a hand up to Electra’s cheek. The quarter-elf kneels just enough to accept it. The girl’s hands stop shaking, but small tears fall from Electra’s face onto the Great Spirit’s.
“—Betty knows that she and your mother behave strangely around the topic of the Queen. Electra, you were the only one of the three of us who was strong enough to question it. What the adults know, everything that happened after that marriage, means that not everyone will cheer as enthusiastically as you will when she appears. Betty wanted you to understand why, but she also wants you to cheer just as hard, despite knowing that tidbit of information, I suppose.”
The Great Spirit turns to Electra’s siblings.
“As for the rest of you, I want you all to support Betty in keeping away any adults who may scorn your sister for her excitement.”
They all nod, Taylor especially. When Beatrice turns back to Electra, she sniffles.
“This stalemate ends today, in fact. Thank you for being the bravest between us.”
Truly. If Beatrice had strength like hers, she might be able to answer her questions the way she wants to.
The Great Spirit so greatly wants to tell her that, after Vollachia, she had fallen for Julius’ charms much like Emilia had. Not in the same way, of course, but he was a fun guy.
She so badly wants to tell her that even during that marriage, she had become so used to Julius that she ignored her contractor’s feelings during the whole thing. Even as the Sin Archbishop of Lust kidnapped him the very next day, she held out hope that Emilia and Julius would arrange a rescue mission for him. Even as she approached the pair with a plan and a location, she hoped that Emilia would rescue the life of her most loyal Knight as she had in Vollachia.
But they didn’t.
Julius declared the mission too dangerous. Emilia only nodded in agreement. One royal marriage, one man—that’s all it took for Emilia to decide that Subaru was no longer worth the risk. Julius ordered everyone to leave him in Gusteko, even offering Beatrice a new contract in the process.
He really believed that I would leave the man who ended my 400 years of solitude to die in the snow because of ‘risk.’ How disgusting, in fact.
In that moment, it was like an illusion had been lifted. Suddenly, it was like her eyes had opened for the first time since they came back home from Vollachia.
Why was she so dismissive of his humiliation, of his mistreatment? Why was she so caught up in Julius’ energy that she ignored her contractor?
No—she knew the answer.
Subaru was in an awful place. Rem reamed him because he let Spica die in Vollachia, and Emilia no longer wanted anything to do with him. It was so obvious, yet so cruel, that she didn’t even recognize it.
Everyone, including Beatrice, during Subaru’s greatest moment of weakness, flocked to a man they saw as more dependable in the moment. Subaru was losing everything before his very eyes, and he could do nothing to stop it. They all wanted to turn their eyes away from it because they knew how he was feeling. They turned their eyes from the void they created so they could feast upon a different light.
Subaru was supposed to be home, surrounded by friends. Why is it, then, that he was surrounded by more enemies in the Miload Manor than across the border? The enemies over there, at least, were honest. The ones in Lugunica?
Everyone wore the mask of his friend. Betty was part of this. Betty treated her contractor like a broken tool because he didn’t know how to build a world that was falling apart around him. She should have been his biggest supporter.
Yet, she was just another bond he was losing. But it wasn’t too late.
Despite Julius’ orders, Beatrice ran to Gusteko. She was lucky enough that Otto and Garfiel also wisened up, helping her get to the Gustekan border atop a carriage pulled by Patrasche and Frufoo. She didn’t know it at the time, but Subaru had died five times while he waited for her to get there.
I wish I were as brave as you, Electra-chan, because if I were, I would have the strength to admit to you my greatest sin. That your big sister, the one contracted to protect you and your siblings for the rest of time, contributed to the greatest suffering your father ever endured. That the half-whore in the throne room and I fell to similar feelings. I was just the first to realize the damage we had done, Beatrice admonishes internally, trying her best not to show it on her face.
“Your determination and kindness are a lot like your father's, I suppose. You ought to be proud,” Beatrcie says as she smiles toward Electra. It takes her a moment, but she returns her own.
Suddenly, an overflowing warmth floods Beatrice’s chest. In fact, all of the Natsuki children feel it as well—the love of their father, poured directly into their hearts.
“Ah! Cor Leonis!” shouts Maia. The kids all stagger as they feel their father tracking their location.
“What wonderful timing, I suppose. Going back to play would be very hard to do after a conversation like this,” Beatrice comments quietly.
The kids all begin running to the other side of the playground.
“Come on, Beako-oneetan, Electra! Dad’s gonna be here any minute, and I don’t wanna miss any of the candy they throw during the parade!” shouts Celly.
“What she said!” follows Sterope.
“Okay, okay! We’ll be right there, I suppose!”
Letting go of Electra’s face, the Great Spirit reaches for her hand.
“Are you still excited?”
The quarter-elf girl hesitates before giving her an answer. She purses her lips, nodding as she talks.
“Of course. She’s the Queen of Lugunica, after all!”
The propensity to hide her sadness behind joy—it’s one Beatrice is unfortunately used to. She can only hope she didn’t sour the quarter-elf’s mood too much.
Electra lifts Betty’s hands in excitement. However, due to her elven strength, the Great Spirit finds herself off the ground. As Electra brings her arm up, Beatrice cries.
“Put me down, I suppose!”
“No~pe! Beako-oneechan is gonna be with me the whole time!”
Giggling with puffy eyes, the little girl continues to hold the Great Spirit in the air as she walks.