The Last Footprints in the Snow

In the depths of the real Erielle's heart, an angel who trusted Venice waged an endless war against a demon that doubted him. A full day passed. The faith she had placed in him began to crumble, slowly eroded by a suspicion no larger than a speck of dust gnawing away from within. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tug-of-war between belief and doubt, once evenly matched, gradually tipped in favor of denial. Gloomy thoughts bloomed faintly at first, then swelled beyond control. The snowball of distrust, once set in motion, grew larger and larger until it finally shattered the sturdy walls of her heart.

Two days passed. Erielle stepped out of her room. Kayle and Fria—and her family—embraced her tightly, offering words of comfort.

Erielle answered that way. But her expression had grown strangely stiff, as if broken beyond repair. Once the dam holding back her emotions collapsed, the tiny hole widened as feelings leaked through, eventually emptying everything inside in an instant.

On the fourth day, she ate. She cut into a perfectly seared steak and swallowed it, yet she tasted nothing at all. She couldn't even tell if she was truly eating something. Or if she was even alive. She knew nothing anymore. Even amid her family's warm conversations, Erielle remained expressionless, clinging to silence. Another day slipped by so meaninglessly that she couldn't even remember how it passed. She simply let her body drift along without a single thought, and before she knew it, the world had been draped in night's dark curtain.

"........."

Upon reaching her room, Erielle sat on the edge of her bed and quietly gazed out the window. Once again, a pitch-black canvas stretched before her, painted with white snow as if by an artist's hand. Suddenly, she remembered the night she and Venice had first set out on a Night Crow mission. The way he had looked at her with that awkward posture and bewildered expression, as though he couldn't understand what was happening. ...It had been in this very room, too.

That incident became the starting point. In Erielle's mind, every moment she had shared with Venice flashed by like a slow—no, rapidly spinning—kaleidoscope. And those memories caught fire with melancholy and distrust, slowly burning away until they vanished. In the end, the memories turned to ash and scattered on the wind.

Drip.

A single tear slid down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from Erielle's hollow eyes. She had thought she had already cried so much that no more tears would come, that she wouldn't feel pain anymore. But it seemed her body refused to obey her heart. The tears flowed endlessly, soaking her pillow and blanket. At the same time, tears began to fill her heart as well. The heart that had burned so fiercely now felt as if it had been steeped in cold tears and stopped beating entirely.

Crack—

The moment even the last remaining angel could no longer withstand the demon's fierce assault and vanished, only rage, hatred, and emptiness remained in Erielle's heart. The happy memories with Venice had all been lies, nothing but a fabricated past. The realization that he had been nothing more than a dark mage who had approached her with sinister intent filled her with fury. She hated Venice. And in the cold reality left behind after those happy days had passed, only desolation remained.

She would never think of that bastard again. Yet even as she fell asleep, Erielle remained unaware that tears were still streaming down her face.

The next day, when the sun had retreated and the moon of night rose to spread its light across the world, the Frost Territory was unusually bustling even at this late hour. The Frost Duke, who rarely showed urgency, shouted at the top of his lungs as he issued orders to the knights and servants, who hurried to obey.

Kwaaaaaang—!

The reason was the earth-shaking explosion and tremor that had just reverberated from somewhere near the Frost Territory. The sudden, inexplicable blast jolted everyone's weary minds back to alertness. The moment the sound reached them, the Frost Duke mobilized every knight to reinforce the territory's defenses and ordered them to investigate the incident's true nature. Even the Frost brothers had joined the effort to uncover the cause.

Not much time had passed before Jake Frost entered the meeting room with a dazed expression.

"There was... an incredibly massive explosion site."

"No, Father. Around the site... there were countless corpses of dark mages."

Jake Frost continued his explanation. Not far from the Frost Territory, there had been traces of an enormous explosion, and the surrounding area was a sea of cold dark mage corpses and bloodstains. It seemed reasonable to assume a battle had taken place, but if so, there should have been bodies from another faction as well. Yet only dark mages were visible. Just in case any survivors remained, he had left other knights and Kyle Frost on standby. At that, the Frost Duke clutched his forehead.

"...Ah. One more thing we discovered—there were bloodstained footprints leading in a certain direction..."

Wheeeeeeeeeee—!

But their conversation was cut short by a sudden alarm that rang throughout the entire Frost Castle.

Under their orders, the knights swiftly began their search.

"...My lord! In the rear garden of the castle...!"

At the panting knight's report, the Frost Duke hurried to the rear garden.

"This is...!"

What Breid Frost discovered in the castle's rear garden was a hole large enough for a person to pass through, torn in the dark magic barrier, along with an enormous amount of blood splattered around it. And only bloodstained footprints leading from inside to outside. As Breid Frost and Jake Frost followed those footprints and looked up, they saw a window thrown wide open, letting in the cold wind.

Erielle's bedroom window stood wide open. They sprinted with all their might toward her room.

Kwaang—!

When they kicked the door open so violently it nearly shattered and burst inside, Erielle had not disappeared as they had feared.

"Ve....nice...?"

All that was there was Erielle, her eyes shaking madly as she stared at the bloodstained windowsill and beyond it.

Erielle had collapsed into bed from a sudden pain in her chest, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chills, and coughing.

"Cough... cough."

'...Did I catch another bad cold?'

It felt exactly like the pain she had experienced before, but far more intense. It was as if worms had burrowed into her heart and were gnawing away from the inside. Heat radiated throughout her entire body. At first, the warmth had only been faintly felt near her heart, but it soon spread everywhere. Her mind grew hazy from the headache that made it difficult to even think. The pain had become unbearable, so Erielle tried to sleep. The throbbing head and fever made it hard, but she somehow managed to drift right up to the edge of unconsciousness.

In that hazy state just before falling asleep, Erielle faintly sensed a noise. The rustle of clothing as someone climbed through the window. Then the soft sound of footsteps on the wooden floor as they quietly approached. "Cough... cough..." Someone familiar kept coughing as they drew nearer to Erielle. Thinking it was just sleep paralysis, she decided to ignore it.

"Erielle....cough. My lady..."

Until she heard that voice—the one more familiar to her than anyone, the one that had taken root deepest in her memories.

"I'm late... cough... I'm sorry..."

Beyond her blurry vision appeared Venice, his entire body covered in blood and wearing a dark mage's robe. Even as he continued coughing up blood, he placed his hand on Erielle's forehead. What a realistic illusion. That was the only thought that crossed Erielle's mind as she watched the scene. Because the Venice who had already left could never return.

She simply stared silently at the Venice created by her pain. Though he wore a dark mage's robe, he looked exactly like the old butler Venice. The kind—no, still kind—Venice in this illusion brought his hand to her forehead. Strangely, even though it was an illusory world, she could feel the warmth of his touch. At the same time, the pain that had consumed her body seemed to slowly fade away.

"Cough—!"

Perhaps this illusion was a projection of the hatred toward Venice that had built up in Erielle's heart. He vomited an enormous amount of blood. When she glanced down, she saw that his abdomen was also pouring blood, soaking the wooden floor. After some time had passed, Venice, who had been continuously coughing up blood, removed his hand from her forehead. Then he looked at Erielle lying in bed and gave her a sad smile. A smile so sorrowful it could make anyone who saw it feel heartbroken.

Venice, barely able to keep his balance, struggled to his feet. He pulled a blood-soaked piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on Erielle's desk.

At his sorrowful expression, Erielle felt as if her heart was becoming drenched. She had thought she had abandoned those feelings, that she hated and despised him. Yet deep in her heart, it seemed Venice still remained.

With only that bright smile left behind, Venice flew out the window and vanished.

"............."

As Erielle quietly watched the illusion, streams of tears flowed from her eyes. The departing illusion felt as if it were taking away even the last remaining memory. That was when strength began returning to her body and her mind started to clear. Feeling as though she would soon wake from the dream, the Erielle within it wept as she let go of Venice in her heart.

Her eyes snapped open. Even after waking, Erielle was still crying. It seemed to be the same illness as last time—coming on suddenly and vanishing just as quickly. She no longer felt any pain. It was a refreshing sensation, as if the worms that had lived deep inside her had disappeared. But something was strange. She was certain she had closed the window, yet the bone-chilling northern wind was pouring into the room.

Without realizing it, Erielle sat up and looked toward the window.

".....Huh?"

The window was wide open, and blood was thickly smeared across the sill, dripping down drop by drop. When she turned to look at the floor, there was a pool of blood so large one could believe a person had died there. That couldn't be. The thing just now... had been an illusion. It had been a scene from a dream. But now, facing reality after waking from that dream, the metallic scent of blood and the cold wind pierced her mind. And on her desk lay a small, bloodstained note.

"Ve...nice...?"

Kwaang—!

That was when the bedroom door shattered and her father and older brother Jake burst in. And that was when she realized the noise she had been hearing was the alarm that sounded when the dark magic barrier had been broken. Erielle denied reality. Yes, what she was seeing now must also be a dream. A horribly realistic, vicious nightmare. But the chilling cold, the creeping anxiety, and the ringing alarm all refuted her denial.

Her father and brother seemed to be holding her and saying something, but none of it reached her ears. Erielle's gaze remained fixed only on the small note on the desk and the view beyond the window.

"..........."

Erielle pushed them away and quietly approached the windowsill. Looking down outside, she saw clear bloodstained footprints left on the white snow.

"Ah... no. It can't be..."

Clutching the small note tightly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in her hand, Erielle threw herself out the window. And she began sprinting at full speed, following the bloodstained footprints. The sad smile Venice had shown just moments ago. The pain that had suddenly vanished. And the departing Venice along with the remaining bloody footprints. From deep within Erielle's heart, overwhelming guilt and anxiety began to surge.