Noblesse
Hilde felt as though she had been dreaming for a very long time.
She had slept so deeply, and for so long, that her mind was still hazy, unable to make sense of anything.
Everything around her was dark, as if she had sunk into an abyss, and the air itself seemed thick with negative emotion.
She could not even remember where she was, or who she was, and so Hilde simply let herself drift wherever her thoughts carried her.
How much time had passed?
The contents of what she had thought was a long dream began to seep into the memories of some other being. That being kept its eyes closed and contemplated the world, watching over everything in it. Sometimes she rejoiced at each life she saw; at other times, she would fall into despair and feel sorrow so profound it was almost unbearable.
Within the elasticity of those emotions, Hilde's mind gradually came into focus. As the fragments of information gathered together, understanding came to her of its own accord. And yet that only made her all the more bewildered.
She had always woken from sleep thinking it had been a strange dream, but it had never been merely a dream. It always began with a sensation too unfamiliar for a human being to normally feel. Every time, her consciousness would spread wide enough to observe the entire universe and watch the movement of its countless streams, making the self that once struggled through human life seem terribly insignificant.
But then she realized that this was not a feeling that belonged to her alone.
At some point, the emotions of the being who had displayed that wondrous power began to seep in. She had always assumed a transcendent being would be aloof, but there was one overwhelming emotion buried within it.
Utter loneliness. Or perhaps a soul-crushing sense of ennui, pressing in around her throat. It was so dangerously fragile that she might vanish at any moment.
And then Hilde understood. She did not know when it had begun, but the transcendent being's memories had started to grow vivid, as if they were her own experiences.
But they were so fragmentary that she could not make sense of everything.
A completely different mode of thought.
By human standards, it was impossible to grasp the whole of it.
Still, with only that much pieced together, Hilde knew where this place was and what had happened to her.
Someone's inner world. More than that, it was the inner world of a being she had watched since her childhood as Hilde. And among the figures she had seen in what she had thought was a dream, this was one of them.
Kamiel.
The moment Hilde whispered the name, the inner landscape that had been saturated with darkness trembled. So it turned out that the darkness of this psychic world was the manifestation of pain, loneliness, and hatred, all gathered together and shaped by the depths of her psyche.
If a human carried this much negativity within them, they would not be able to endure it and would simply die. Hilde felt deeply sorry for her, but she was also relieved that Kamiel was a strong angel.
At Hilde's call, the trembling inner world fell quiet, and light began to gather in the dark expanse. The light slowly took the shape of a woman before forming wings and a halo, then fading away.
"Thank you, Kamiel."
The moment Hilde saw the female figure, she knew at a glance who it was. Long, wavy pink hair. Gentle eyes, and delicate features that made her seem fragile—her appearance in memory was exactly the same.
At Hilde's quiet words, the angel remained expressionless. The avatar that manifested in her depths had shut out outside emotional contact, unable to endure such unbearable sorrow. It was one of her defense mechanisms.
"The advice you gave me was a huge help even in the village where I grew up. And without your help, I never would have been able to save Eire in Makyeong."
As she spoke, Hilde walked toward Kamiel's avatar. Then she drew the girl, who was silently looking at her, into an embrace. Her avatar still showed no expression.
"I'm truly sorry."
At the whisper by her ear, Kamiel's avatar gave a single jolt. Hilde closed her eyes and continued.
"Kamiel. I know you've suffered so much. I broke the promise I made to stay with all of you. I don't even know how I can make it up to you. I'm really sorry."
As she spoke, Hilde noticed that the shoulder of her clothing had gone damp. When she looked at Kamiel, tears were falling from her face in pitiful little drops.
An avatar that emerged from the depths of the psyche always voiced its true feelings without hesitation. If anyone looked inward, they could glimpse the uglier side hidden beneath. And once inside the depths of the mind, the avatar would speak of those desires without restraint.
But the avatar that was the owner of her inner emotions hesitated once before speaking. Then, reluctantly, it opened its mouth.
"If you really think you're sorry, then please, don't stop me."
Kamiel's voice carried a pain so raw it was almost heartbreaking. Her trembling eyes looked as though even she could not find her bearings.
"I can't do that. It would only mean you're gnawing away at yourself even more."
Hilde could guess what was happening in the world outside. And if a little more time passed, it would become impossible to turn back.
At her words, the avatar flared in anger and shouted, "You're really too much! I've endured as much as I could! Do you know why humans have been able to live on until now? If you knew how long I had to persuade all those angels—how many of them rose up and demanded the extermination of humanity on the spot, and how long I had to convince them and make them understand, you wouldn't say something like that. And now humans have crossed the line."
Kamiel's avatar recalled the long years that had passed.
Humans, born amid abundant love, had no innate power of their own, and yet under the care of the Goddess and the transcendent beings created long before them, they had prospered and flourished.
They had thrived without a single soul going hungry and claimed the lands of the entire continent. Their power and prestige had reached the sky itself.
But that was exactly the problem.
Sated humans, blessed by the Goddess, had begun to protest. More power. More authority. Some had even begun to covet the Goddess's own place and indulged their greed.
The avatar closed her eyes tightly as the memory of the event that had driven the Goddess away flashed through her mind. The terrible recollection struck her body with revulsion and made her tremble all over. It had been then that she first saw the tears of the Goddess, as she cried in grief.
And it was this that had led to the birth of Makyeong.
"I've always hated it, and still tried to carry out the Goddess's will to protect humanity. But now I can't bear to watch any longer. Among those the Goddess cherished from the very beginning, there are so many children who have been terribly wounded. Some of them can never be saved now. It's because of the humans the Goddess created in the end."
Once the dam had broken, the storm of emotion came surging down upon Hilde, and she accepted it in silence. Then she realized something without even meaning to. The one to whom the avatar was confessing was the Goddess who had suddenly departed long ago. If the humans had risen up in rebellion, they might still have endured if there had been a center to hold them together—if there had been a Goddess.
Hilde spoke to the avatar. She did not know whether she had truly been the Goddess of this world, but fortunately, the feelings she had held at the time of her departure still remained.
"Kamiel. I'm sorry to say this, but I don't regret leaving."
Kamiel's face twisted, her expression turning savage. The inner world trembled and shook violently.
As though venting the fire of her anger, Kamiel's avatar shouted, "I expected as much, but I never thought you'd really feel that way! After all that kindness, after holding us like a mother, and you didn't feel a shred of guilt? We were nothing but less than vermin compared to humans, weren't we?"
Even as the avatar cried out, her voice gradually dwindled until it became a self-mocking whisper. The face that had been furrowed with anger now crumpled into a sorrowful expression of betrayal, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Hilde did not panic. She had to tell this child the truth exactly as she had felt it back then.
"You've misunderstood. That's not it at all."
"You're lying! Now that you're thinking of all those ungrateful humans you loved disappearing, you're lying too? Sniff."
Kamiel's avatar had become emotional to the point of shaking. That was likely the feeling she was receiving right now. The Goddess had loved humanity far more deeply. Kamiel, finally accepting a truth she had refused to acknowledge for an eternity in the Goddess's absence, looked as though she might collapse at any moment. But the Goddess had never truly thought that way.
"Not at all. The reason I left was because I believed in you. I truly believed and loved all of you more than anything, so I could entrust everything that came after to you. I swear it on all that I am."
The avatar did not answer. Instead, she fell to her knees, covered her face with both hands, and cried. Hilde stepped forward and gently stroked her back.
"I never said it, but... you were all incredibly special to me."
At that soft, gentle tone, the avatar lowered her hands and looked up at Hilde. But her expression was still one of doubt.
And yet those feelings of the Goddess were real. That being, who had lived alone in that wretched universe, had looked upon the holy and noble lives she had first brought into existence, trembled with awe, and been grateful that she had not ended her own life.
The preciousness of life, and the existence of companions who would walk into the future together—those things meant as much to the Goddess as anything else. She loved the beings she had created in the earliest days so deeply that she shared all manner of powers with them. And the Goddess, who had gathered such powers together within a ruined universe, knew that beings possessing those powers were called Noblesse.
Hilde organized her thoughts and spoke slowly, one thing at a time.
"If I truly loved humans more than I loved you, why would I have made them so weak and unstable? It is true that I cherished them and raised them with great care, but that was because they were far more fragile than you. Even so, strength and power are not everything. The reason I loved them was that their emotions brought me happiness. Their feelings ran hot so often—that was a great difference from you—but that very thing was the driving force of humanity."
As she spoke, the explanation became a little muddled and strange, but she was conveying the thoughts and emotions the Goddess had felt. Kamiel's avatar stopped crying and fell silent before finally speaking again.
The once-dark depths of the world were brightening little by little, as though it were opening its heart.
"...Thank you. It would've been better if you'd just told us instead of keeping everything locked up."
Seeing the avatar complain like that, Hilde felt relief. In the depths of the mind, an avatar's emotions always stood in for a person's true feelings and swung wildly from one extreme to another. If one entered the psyche of another person, it would not have been strange at all to be cursed at and have their filthy desires spewed out in full force. That was because the avatar gave voice to every thought, whether conscious or unconscious.
"The Goddess was always kind, but she never spoke of her own heart. As if she didn't want to burden us."
The avatar said this as though shaking off her emotions. Then she took Hilde's hand and helped her up.
"When you suddenly left, I was very sad. Very much so. But..."
Kamiel's avatar smiled. It was as though the sorrow and pain of those days had vanished in an instant. Hilde realized just how enormous the Goddess's place in their lives had been.
"Now I understand. You entrusted everything to us before you left, didn't you? Thinking about it now, I can even guess why the Goddess had to go back then."
"I'm still very sorry. I do regret leaving without saying a word."
Talking with Kamiel's avatar, Hilde felt as though she were becoming one with the Goddess. The Goddess's feelings were aligning with her own thoughts.
"Of course you should be. I'm still not completely over being sulky."
As proof, Kamiel's inner world was still somewhat dim. Hilde gave a wry smile at that, but her heart settled when she saw Kamiel's radiant, beaming grin. Kamiel studied Hilde's face as though trying to take her apart with her eyes, then said,
"I'll send you back outside now. I'm sorry for showing you such an ugly side of myself. Still, please remember that I'm only an avatar. Next time, when we meet in my true form, I hope we can reunite on better terms. I'll miss you very much."
Kamiel opened a gate. True to her nature as one who had received the power of creation, she expressed the exit from the depths of the inner world in that way.
"Once you're back outside, there'll be something you need to do right away. Humanity has flourished this much already. The Hero's Party were quite formidable children, too."
With those words, the avatar said her farewell. Just before Hilde stepped through, she looked back and saw Kamiel wearing the innocent expression of the girl she had seen in her dream.
"Thank you for coming back to me, even like this."
With Kamiel's quiet words behind her, Hilde left the depths of the inner world.