I'm Not Afraid
Two hours of private instruction had ended, leaving the room feeling utterly empty.
Tick-tock— tick-tock— drip-drop. Time flowed in fits and starts.
A fragmented space.
"……."
In that strangely hollow place, Sylvia stared at the homework Deculein had left behind. Revisions to the magic circuits, a vocabulary book filled with fairy words that had countless homonyms, various math problems said to sharpen computational skills…….
She gazed at them quietly, then murmured softly.
"I'm not afraid."
The current Deculein was fake anyway. Everything was fake until she drew the real one. It was all just a "process," nothing but trial and error.
So there was no need to fear his disappearance. No need to fear parting.
……Chirp chirp.
Suddenly, Swiftie fluttered in with a small chirp and perched on her shoulder. Bear-Panda huffed and puffed its way onto her lap as well.
"Yeah."
To the two little ones worrying about her, Sylvia said,
No need to worry. Nothing changes in the world I create.
"It's fine."
She wouldn't be shaken by some fake. With that resolve, Sylvia began tackling Deculein's homework. It was contradictory that a fake could teach her, but whatever.
"I won't be shaken by a fake. It's laughable, really."
Sylvia forced a smile.
"They say I pity you."
She stroked Bear-Panda's head and murmured low.
"But I pity you."
* * *
I was heading back to the guild room with Al Ross's scarecrow. To the naked eye, it was a finely crafted combat golem, so there was no need to worry about ambushes.
—Professor.
Suddenly, the scarecrow's mouth moved.
—I've been thinking.
Straw sprayed out with its voice each time it spoke.
—Is this how you attack Sylvia? With your death.
I shook my head.
"It could be an attack. Or it could be a lesson."
Sylvia's unbearable loss. The deep lingering attachment left in the past.
That was one reason I'd sought her out under the pretext of "private instruction."
Experiencing loss was still experience. Experience either inures a person or exhausts them.
Either way, it was a good outcome for "me."
"Al Ross."
I called Al Ross's name.
—Why.
"Why are you here."
—……I told you.
"You didn't give the precise reason. You hid it."
The scarecrow walked on in silence. Ahem— whether Al Ross cleared his throat or not, a clump of straw burst from its mouth.
"Did you come to collaborate with the Altar."
—…….
"You went radio silent for quite a while before the Isle of Voice even emerged."
—…….
Al Ross said nothing.
To reiterate, Al Ross was set up as a villain. He collaborated with the Altar, ultimately playing a key role in the god's descent.
The complete lack of contact during that time, and then suddenly turning up in the Voice.
"Have you betrayed me, perhaps."
—……It's not quite betrayal. We both saw it as a simple partnership, didn't we.
By the time we finished walking, we'd arrived at the guild room.
"To me, that's betrayal."
Creeeak—
As I opened the guild room door, Al Ross's main body came into view. She sat in a chair, masked as always.
"……It was a response to the situation."
Al Ross looked at me and said,
"I know you provided me information and got paid for it. However, I judged the Altar's compensation to be far greater."
"What was your basis."
I sat in a chair and fixed Al Ross with a steady gaze.
"…….It just seemed obvious."
Al Ross let out a small sigh.
She stared into space, as if recalling some scene.
"Just before I came here, I glimpsed the 'god's' manifestation ritual."
I furrowed my brow. Al Ross shook her head.
"In that moment, I knew. That I had to side with them to survive. It was a sight beyond mystery or magic— indescribable. Not majestic, not holy. Just overwhelming."
Sand trickled down from the guild room ceiling— sifting softly. Al Ross fiddled with her mask, then bowed her body. As if in prayer.
"I planned to use the Altar. Cooperate loosely with their mad scheme to resurrect the god and make some money. In my view, money was the only constant value in this world. But the moment I saw it, I wondered— is this really a god."
"You misjudged."
I cut her off. Al Ross straightened and looked at me.
"That thing isn't a god. It's a lunatic."
"……."
I shook my head pityingly at Al Ross.
"In any case, after seeing that, it's even more crucial not to let the original me see you. The moment you catch my eye, you're stuffed."
"Because you won't see—"
"I know. I know that god's name too. I know exactly who that damned lunatic is."
"……What."
Al Ross's eyes widened beneath her mask.
Even if I wasn't the real one, I knew the scenarios and quest structures from Kim Woojin's memories.
"That thing isn't a god— it's a fake. A true god wouldn't rely on a god's altar. A god begging a puppeteer for a body? That's not a god; that's a cripple."
"……."
Al Ross shut her mouth. I leaned in close, eyes locked on hers.
"Al Ross. I do not forgive betrayal. However, my current self is magnanimous, so I'll give you a chance."
"……A chance."
"Decide whether to trust me or the god. Before the original me arrives."
"What decision."
"Don't you have Gerak? If you release it when I arrive, I'll die. If you don't, I'll live."
For a moment, Al Ross's eyes narrowed. Her visible face looked frustrated, so I pulled off her mask.
I looked at her and said,
"I'm entrusting my life to you. And this is how I trust people."
If there's trust, enough to stake my life.
If not, enemies for life.
No half-measures.
"……You."
As Al Ross swallowed and tried to speak—
Creeeak—!
Suddenly, the guild room door flew open.
"Whew~ That was delicious!"
It was Jaken, grinning ear to ear. His mouth was smeared with thick grease, like he'd just devoured meat somewhere.
Spotting us, he flinched and stepped back.
"Whoa, what's this. You two sharing a lovers' moment? Why're you so close?"
"……."
"……."
We pulled apart and sat back.
"Ah. Should've come later. Or peeked. Aww~ Missed it. Heh heh heh."
Jaken smirked as he slunk in and pried,
"Or, can I join—"
"Shut your mouth. Is that trap of yours a dumpster? Always spewing filth."
At that, Jaken's face hardened. His eyes and mouth went wide, like he'd been slapped.
"……Ah. Whatever. Wow. Me. Wow……. That's too much. I worked hard and come back to this."
I ignored the guy as he sulked into a chair.
* * *
Day after day, day after day.
Time on the island flowed on, and Sylvia's private lessons continued at the same hour each day. The more she learned, the more my body crumbled repeatedly.
My imminent death had taken clear root in my heart. If it was natural causes, it wasn't satisfying, but I could accept it to some degree.
"Well done. Your dictation score is good today too."
In Sylvia's room.
Fortunately, today's lesson ended intact.
"……."
Sylvia gazed at me quietly. My time was short now, and the signs of breakdown were clear enough even for her.
"Is today the last lesson."
She asked me. Quite a curious question.
I shook my head.
"The lessons continue."
The next me, the one after that, and the one after that would revive endlessly to carry them on.
Thus, the lessons never end.
"Then, Professor. Can I ask one thing."
Sylvia, peering intently at me, spoke.
The lesson time was over, so no honorifics.
"Ask. Anything."
"What kind of person was Yuarra."
An unexpected question.
I smiled at Sylvia.
The three letters of Yuarra felt wondrous. That someone besides me knew her name was wondrous.
"I'm curious."
"……There's nothing to be curious about. Yuarra was just Yuarra."
I closed my eyes briefly. I tried to recall her face, but the memory was faint.
Perhaps due to my functions slowly shutting down.
"No other description."
"……."
Sylvia's expression hardened briefly. She let out a faint breath, as if sorry or regretful.
"You. Know this."
"What."
"The Voice implemented Yuarra, but it failed."
"……."
"The implemented Yuarra was just a shell. It couldn't replicate the soul. You know why."
At that, my brow furrowed.
The reason souls can't be implemented.
It was…….
"Because souls are unique."
The uniqueness of souls. The natural law that only one soul can exist in this world.
Even the Voice wasn't free from that law.
The reason the Voice could revive the dead was that a deceased soul resided not in this world, but the next.
"Yuarra's soul still exists in this world. It's alive."
"……."
Sylvia clenched her teeth, stopping her words. Her face held some anger.
Now, I think I knew what she was thinking.
"Maybe Yuarra didn't die back then."
Pity flickered in her eyes as she looked at me.
The same emotion I'd once seen in my gaze toward her.
"Maybe Yuarra hated you and ran away. Chose the worst way to escape you. Ran away and is still breathing somewhere."
"……."
It could be.
If it was a "setting" Yuarra planted.
"That's what I think. That you were betrayed by Yuarra. So, I pity you too."
Sylvia bowed her head, falling silent. Her voice held no hesitation, but sadness tinged her face.
"……Sorry. But the next you will forget anyway."
"……."
I looked at Sylvia. Nodded silently.
Suddenly, it made sense.
If she truly left me, she'd write in such a setting.
The way to escape Deculein's love— even I couldn't think of anything but "playing dead."
"I see."
"……."
Sylvia looked at me wordlessly. Her silence held consideration. Regret.
"……So that's it."
I chuckled softly. Shook my head.
Sylvia didn't take her eyes off my face.
"However, it is well."
"……."
Her expression hardened. She straightened her back. Her eyes went blankly vacant.
"But…… Sylvia."
Crackle crackle…….
At last, my body began to crumble. Like paint past its expiration. Like a sandcastle collapsing.
"Before I die, there is something I wish to tell you— something no one else has."
I placed a hand on her shoulder. A wretched hand. Skin flaking off, wrinkles already gaping.
A portrait on the verge of ruin.
"Sylvia."
I called her name. She remained silent.
"……It is not your fault."
That this happened to you is not your fault.
That the Voice devoured your voice, leaving you so unhappy— it is not your fault.
Gilteon and Ilayde.
Deculein and Yukline.
The strife between the two magical houses sacrificed a child named Sylvia.
My time was too short to say it all.
"……."
Sylvia made a choking sound. Her breath trembled hotly.
She reached out. Her small hand touched my cheek. My eyes were already blind; I couldn't see her face. But her hot breath ghosted my nose tip.
"You'll forget this too."
A voice spreading gently in the dark world. A gesture pulling me in.
The touch on my lips.
Moist warmth.
"……I love you."
A trembling voice laden with tears. Words filled with pure emotion.
That was my final memory.