No Flower Lasts Forever
Ariel shifted, settling herself into a new posture.
Whether it was the miraculous power heaven had granted her, she could not say—but she knew, instinctively, what had to be done. She knew what offering was required to fill the innate true qi that had been drained to nothing.
She sank to her knees. Folded her hands with care. Then pressed her clasped fingers to her chest.
Her small lips parted.
"O God."
"...?"
A question bloomed across Lancelot's face as he watched her, dazed.
Helios Magic Tower. Senior Mage, Ariel La Helios. She was a mage—he had seen her cast ice magic with his own two eyes, and that was an unchanging fact.
And yet.
"O Goddess of Life, who judges the living and the dead."
Why? Why did a saint's halo radiate from that woman?
"Have mercy upon this lamb."
A deep hum resonated through the air.
"Grant Your child one more chance."
Lancelot's jaw fell open.
What Ariel was performing was no mere life magic. It was divine magic—the product of miracles that only a handful of humans, chosen by a god, could ever hope to work.
"I offer You my flesh and blood... so please, save this pitiful lamb."
Light pattered down like falling stars, tracing brilliant constellations through the air around her.
Lancelot could not believe his eyes. As if the light possessed a will of its own, it shuttled between Ariel and the fallen Frey, carrying some unseen force from one to the other.
A rushing whisper of radiance—and once more, dazzling celestial light poured down upon her.
Frey thought.
...What is this?
Like a kite with its string cut, his severed consciousness drifted back. His body, however, would not move. He was a monitor with the power switched off—aware, somehow, that his mind was awake, and nothing more.
The strangeness did not end there.
Ah, hi! I'm Ariel. What's your name?
Memories. Recollections. A distant past. A forgotten promise. A little girl's dream flooded his mind to the brim.
Frey! Today I'm gonna teach you how to make sugar candy!
Young Ariel had been a child whose bright, dimpled smile was her greatest charm. She had clung to Frey like a burr, as if even a moment apart was more than she could bear.
Frey! What's your dream?
The years in the memories raced forward. Before long the little girl had grown into a proper young lady—and still, she always came looking for him.
Me? Ehehe... I wanna be a priest. A really amazing priest, so I can help people who are sick and hurting.
Whenever the talk turned to dreams, she always said she hoped to become a priest. It suited her—a simple, kind-hearted girl who could never walk past someone in pain.
Frey! Let's play together again today. Ehehe, I really like you, Frey!
And then, one day.
F-Frey! I-I, um... I awakened Blessings! Two of them!
The Ariel who came running to him that day could not contain her excitement. The sacred honor of a Blessing bestowed by the gods had found a little girl.
One is called 'Divinity'... and the other is 'Premature Death of Geniuses.' I wonder what that means? Ehehe. I hope they're good Blessings.
Time flowed on. It did not take long for the innocent girl to learn the true nature of the Blessings that had wrapped themselves around her.
Frey... I'm going to die. They said around twenty, I'll just drop dead. Like a puppet with its strings cut.
The Ariel who came to him that day spoke through a steady stream of tears. The Frey of that time had said nothing at all. He had always been jealous of the girl who had awakened two Blessings, and he had a habit of answering her with barbed words—so when it truly mattered, he found he had none left.
I'm... going to become a mage.
A few days later, Ariel returned with a haggard face and a resolve that would not be moved. When asked why she was giving up on becoming a priest, she only smiled and said, Just because.
The Blessings she had awakened were Divinity and Premature Death of Geniuses.
Divinity was a Blessing possessed by only one person on the entire continent: the Pope of the Holy See, who stood at the head of every church. Premature Death of Geniuses was a Blessing that made every talent bloom in dazzling splendor—and then, like a curse, killed its bearer around the age of twenty.
Hey, Frey... I heard back from Helios Magic Tower.
One day, Ariel came to find Frey as he was preparing to become a mercenary.
Mmh. I'm going to be a mage. And... I'm going to study life magic. For you, who can't learn mana, and for me, with my time running out. I'll definitely fix us both. Doesn't it feel like a field that was made just for us? Ehehe...
The girl who had refused her fate and turned her back on the gods had found a new dream: to become a mage. The reason she threw herself into life magic was simple. For the friend who had lost the Blessing of mana. And for herself, drawing closer to death with every passing day.
The last time she came to him, Ariel launched into something that sounded like the most frustrating scene from a worn-out rom-com.
Promise me.
Promise you what? The answer, when it came, was simple.
Forget me—the girl who's going to die soon. Forget the person named Ariel. From now on... we're strangers. If I ever develop a medicine that can heal you, I'll just send the medicine. That's all.
Whispering those words through her tears, Ariel left.
Years beyond counting slipped by. The girl who had given up on the priesthood became, in time, a proud member of a Magic Tower. The brilliant talent she had gained in exchange for a life with an expiration date seated her as the youngest Senior Mage. And still, a fierce longing for someone tore at her heart.
It was only recently that Ariel—the promise of the past still lodged in her like a knot she could not untie—reached out first.
Frey. I miss you.
A letter carrying her will flew out by magic mail, with a single hope attached: that its recipient had not come to some terrible harm.
Two years later, Frey received the letter. Ariel ran to him without stopping for breath. She knew. The time left to her had grown painfully short.
Ah, hi?
Meeting her old friend after so long felt unbearably awkward. Breaking the promise she herself had extracted sat poorly with her.
And then she came face to face with something that stopped her cold.
Her one and only friend had lost his memories. He remembered neither her, nor the promise from so long ago, nor even the fate drawing steadily closer around a certain girl.
It was a strange feeling. Her oldest friend seemed like an entirely different person. There was something distinctive about his gaze—as if it could see straight through the material world.
U-uhn? That's not it.
Ariel made a point of keeping him at arm's length. For all that she had come here out of her own selfishness, she could not stop thinking about what the near future held.
The blank space fate had already written for her. How ridiculous was it, to tell someone to forget you—and then go looking for him anyway?
And still, Ariel did not leave Frey's side. Or rather, she could not. The mere sight of him set her heart pounding with a heat that was almost joy.
In a space of endless, pitch-black dark, Frey—having traced every one of those memories to its end—let out a small breath.
...Hah.
The pieces were finally falling into place.
Ariel. Ariel La Helios. A genius mage who never appeared in Silvering. The traits she possessed were Divinity and Premature Death of Geniuses.
Divinity was a trait held by only one person in the world. Its owner was Pope Sullivan, supreme head of the Holy See that led every church on the continent. Countless players used to grumble that it was basically a unique character trait.
The reason a girl who should have walked the path of a priest became a mage instead came down to one thing.
Frey.
And Premature Death of Geniuses...
A trash trait nobody ever picks.
The reason was simple. If your character was destined to get deleted right when every stat was supposed to blossom into brilliance, who in their right mind would choose a trait like that?
Ariel.
He had thought something was off. That was why he had pressed her so persistently. But he had never imagined the truth would arrive like this.
Ariel had never been destined to become a great archmage. She was simply someone who had made her peace with life and death... a person already standing at death's door.
Lancelot, who had been watching the phenomenon in grim silence, forced his upper body off the ground. Even a man as dense as he was could tell that what was happening here was anything but ordinary.
"Ariel... what are you doing?"
No answer came from the girl with the golden radiance at her back. She only turned her head a fraction and smiled, sad and small.
"Everything will go back to the way it was."
That desolate smile stole the words from Lancelot's mouth. Her eyes, in that moment, looked sickeningly like a certain man's. Her smile resembled his—the old friend she had spoken of—far too closely.
Frey, and Ariel on her knees before him. Before long the morning sun broke over them, bathing the two figures in a flood of light. Daylight struck the blood soaking through Ariel's white clothes and scattered, dazzling. It did not look like a mage at prayer. It looked like the birth of a Saintess.
"...Hey."
Ariel lowered lonely eyes and looked down at Frey. That deathly pallor, that body that would not so much as twitch, drove itself into her heart like a needle.
"The truth is, when you said you'd lost your memories of me... I felt a little relieved."
A deep hum rolled through the air. A golden, unknown power began to stir.
"I'm sorry that what I'm doing now doesn't match the promise I made so long ago."
The ground itself seemed to tremble.
"Spending time with you at Helios Magic Tower was my last wish... but I guess that was too greedy of me."
The great, shuddering force burst from Ariel's back. Like silk woven from light, it seeped into Frey's nose and mouth.
A clear tear traced a path down her white cheek.
One last time, Ariel lifted her wish to the heavens. To the god she had refused and denied, she spoke a shameless prayer.
"Please."
"Just as we promised so long ago."
"Let Frey forget me, and live."
Light bloomed.
Like a flower that had opened too late in the dead of winter, the radiance did not linger. It faded almost as soon as it had come.
No flower lasts forever.
The last snow-covered petal drifted down, pale and forlorn.