Fifteen Years Without Light
For Belita Bright, to think was to suffer.
Because in the circumstances that bound her, the moment she began to think — the moment she began to search for reason — there was nothing waiting for her but pain.
It had been far too cruel a burden for a child so young, and so she had simply stopped thinking. She listened to orders. She obeyed whoever spoke. She lived a life of perfect passivity.
Because that was easier.
The instant she started thinking, she would have no choice but to hunt for the reasons behind every agony, every injustice. Even if she wanted to escape the suffering, she would be forced to recognize the invisible leash knotted around her throat — a leash she could never slip.
So she closed her eyes instead.
No. Someone had gouged them out. Her ears had been cut away. Her mouth had been sewn shut. Her hands and feet had been bound. It would be no exaggeration to say she did little more than breathe — that the free will a person ought to possess had been pared down to the barest extreme.
The reason she was trailing after Olivia and Lois now was simply that Olivia had ordered her to come along. She had never been able to refuse even the most brutal tortures, threatened as she was by her parents' so-called requests. Perhaps, for her, there was no such thing as a plea she could not grant.
If they told her to die, she could die. In truth, Belita longed for it from the deepest part of her heart.
That someday, the order to die would come.
At last. She could die.
Belita was not living because she wanted to live. She was living, quite literally, because she had no reason to die. She possessed a will to survive, and yet a hunger for destruction writhed even more fiercely beneath it. It was a strange thing, but everything broken in her was what currently held that death wish in check.
Had she never been broken, the death wish would never have been born. But because she had been broken, the geas that demanded she live as a Saintess was what stopped her from taking her own life.
And for all of that, Belita Bright was still a cleric. She possessed a genuine faith in the Goddess, and that made it all the more impossible to choose the path of ending herself. It was not that she had never tried. The revulsion she felt was real.
"So how long do you intend to keep Belita with us? Alex is going to notice."
"What if we ambush Alex when he comes to pick her up?"
"Do you really think he'd hoist that heavy backside of his and come fetch her?"
"That's a fair point. Come to think of it, Belita — do you know where Alex is?"
"He never told me..."
"What a pain. Ugh."
"Ah, but—"
"But?"
"Prince Felix would know."
"Felix?"
"Prince Felix has come to Erkia?"
Lois hummed and rubbed at his neck. Come to think of it, the reason he had joined the Hero's party in the first place had been at Felix's request. Everyone had disliked him at first, dismissing him as a man who'd ridden in on the prince's connections — but he had proven far more capable than expected, and far easier to talk to besides, a genuinely decent person, and so he had settled in quickly.
He had just begun to settle in when Olivia banished him, of course.
Belita had never understood why. He had been the one person in that party who looked after her, and his way of speaking was so gentle that she had liked him. Olivia and Rayna were cold, their words edged with a sharpness that frightened her, and though Alex's speech was gentle enough, the chill in his eyes was impossible to ignore. Lois, though — his eyes were kind, and his voice was kind, and so she had been able, at least, to be somewhat at ease.
He had probably felt a touch of pity, seeing a girl so young and timid in every way, and finding no one else around her who would take care of her, had decided he ought to do it himself. Some people might have found such pity wounding to their pride. Belita was not one of those people. She had no pride left to defend, and so she felt not the slightest displeasure.
"Yes. If anyone would know Lord Alex's whereabouts, it would be Prince Felix."
"I see. But the moment we approach Prince Felix, we'll certainly be found out."
"This might not be the best thing to say, Lois, but... is that man even on our side?"
At Olivia's words, silence fell.
"From what you've just said, the Clyfford family was in on those experiments too. Lilith has always been frail, so she never took part in politics at all — but Felix is a different story, isn't he?"
Of course, they could have hidden it from Felix if they had wished. For all the talk, the one who currently held the real power in the Clyfford family was Cromwell, the reigning king — so it would not have been impossible. But pulling Felix onto their side would have been wiser, and far less risky besides.
"What do you think, Lois? I know less about Felix Clifort than you do."
"I don't know him all that well either..."
"That man—"
Lois let out a small breath.
"—is someone who resembles Alex."
"What? Then that means..."
"But I believe it would be all right to consider him an ally."
"Is that so?"
"The moment I met Prince Felix, I thought, this is a man similar to Alex. But there was a decisive difference, and that is why I believe he can be trusted."
"..."
"At the very least, I believe the likelihood that he approved of those experiments is low — and the likelihood that he would betray humanity, lower still. Of course, this is only my judgment as someone who happens to be acquainted with him. I may well be incapable of objectivity, so please don't take my word as gospel."
Affection, after all, had a way of swaying even the most rational of people. The Felix that Lois described was Felix as seen through Lois's own eyes — and the possibility that he had painted the man in the kindest possible light could not be entirely dismissed.
"I still don't know. Anyway, you're saying it's worth talking to him, right?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll go see him later. For now, the head of the Courtney family."
"..."
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
Belita scratched her cheek.
"No, it's just... you seem to have changed a great deal..."
"..."
"The Lady Olivia I remember was... sharp, in so many ways."
A woman so sharp she had seemed liable to cut not only everyone around her, but herself as well. And yet the Olivia standing here now carried almost none of that edge. If Belita had to put it into words — yes. She seemed ordinary. Like an ordinary person. The way she expressed joy and anger and sorrow and delight, so simply, so humanly, was so unlike the Olivia Belita remembered that she could almost have mistaken her for someone else.
"People change."
"..."
"You can change too."
"I—"
"I'm not going to show you the path."
"..."
"I'm never going to give you detailed orders — follow me, do this, do that. You're the one who chooses. What else are those two perfectly good legs of yours for?"
Belita trembled slightly, and Olivia stopped. Presently, Lois stepped in between them.
"Emotion lends its power when it expresses honesty between people — but sometimes it becomes a blade that cuts. Livia. You understand what I mean, don't you?"
"...I know. ...Belita."
Olivia came forward slowly and took Belita's hand. It was so warm that Belita flinched in spite of herself.
"There was no light in the fifteen years of your life. But you have many days still ahead of you. Spending what's left of them drowned in fifteen years of tragedy would be a waste, don't you think?"
"..."
"Your fifteen years were stained by other people's greed and selfishness until they withered away and died. You have to start over from here. You can't completely scrape away the filth — that sticky mud of the past."
A faint sadness crossed Olivia's face.
"I don't really understand."
"You don't have to. You probably can't, not yet. But remember this much. Wishing for death is not right. And if you believe you have no worth unless you occupy that position... that is wrong."
Who was she really speaking to? The words were meant for Belita, certainly — and yet in Olivia's eyes there was the sense that she was looking at someone else as well.
"Has anyone ever been kind to Belita — not the Saintess, but you?"
"..."
"...Someone said this to me once. They asked if anyone had ever been kind to Olivia — not the Hero. I had no such memory. Neither will you."
"..."
"We were swallowed by the titles of Hero and Saintess until we forgot even who we were. We have to remember who we are. Belita... you have to learn how to choose your own path."
Silence stretched. Belita could say nothing at all. She simply watched Olivia's back.
"If you don't, you will never see the light — not even in the moment you die."
"Lady Olivia..."
"To put it simply—"
Lois smiled.
"—it can be summarized as: love yourself."
"You summarized it way too much."
"But I'm right, aren't I?"
"Love...?"
Lois looked at the dazed Belita and spoke.
Unto you I give life; therefore love one another.
As I have loved you, so shall you also love one another.
"Those are the Goddess's words."
"A person who cannot even love themselves cannot love anyone else. And a person who praises another can, through that praise, perceive that person's virtue. What is your virtue, Belita?"
"I... I don't know. I've never thought about it. I just... if I do what people want... would that count as a virtue?"
"Then it's time you went looking for it."
His voice, calm in a way she could not quite name, seemed to ring against her ear.
"Your virtue."
"..."
They walked in silence until Belita stopped.
"Th-there. The head of the Courtney family should be in there."
"It's a pretty fancy place, all right."
"Well, that much is only to be expected."
"So how do we get in? There'll be guards, right? If only Sylphy were here..."
"That's why I said we should wait until Titania arrived."
"We don't know how the situation might change, Lois. Don't you have a better idea?"
"..."
Lois studied the building for a moment, then spoke.
"Shall we go in using a rather primitive method?"
"Smash our way through?"
"Not quite that primitive..."