The Extinguished Sun

"Haa..."

A girl walked through the streets overflowing with refugees. Her breath escaped in white puffs, mingling with the frigid air and scattering in all directions.

Watching the scene with distant eyes, she suddenly lifted her head to gaze at the night sky.

"...It's dark."

Just a few months ago, the night sky had glittered every evening with stars and a gentle moon. But now, it was nothing like that. In place of twinkling stars and soft moonlight, there was only profound darkness.

"How did things end up like this?"

Muttering coldly as she stared at the sight, the girl soon dragged her heavy footsteps onward.

Whoooosh...

"Ngh."

But this time, a biting winter wind blocked her path. She stopped in place with a sigh, dodging the fierce gust by slipping into a nearby shop.

"Welcome..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The shopkeeper, who would normally chase out someone as ragged as her, merely mumbled a greeting with a face drained of all motivation.

Flutter...

Thanks to that, the girl warmed herself briefly and rested, picking up a fluttering newspaper from beside her and scanning its contents.

"Ugh..."

But the moment she read the headline, the girl quietly closed her eyes and murmured,

"I... I'm doing my best too..."

Of course, in the empty shop devoid of customers, no one responded to her words—not even the drunken owner.

"Hey, kid."

"...Yes?"

As the girl gritted her teeth and prepared to leave, fully aware of the silence, the booze-soaked shopkeeper muttered in a raspy voice.

"I don't know why a little thing like you is wandering these streets so late... but you'd best get out of here. Fast."

"Yes, that's why I'm leaving now."

"This city... no, this country."

At the shopkeeper's grave tone, the girl let her shoulders slump powerlessly and whispered,

"The imperial family is still holding out. So maybe..."

"Bullshit. If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they were holding out so well... why's my shop empty?"

"That's..."

"It used to be packed just a few years ago."

As the girl lowered her gaze silently, the man slumped back over his desk and grumbled,

"Forget it... What's the point of whining to a kid like you? I'll just drink."

"...Aren't you going to run?"

"Run?"

Hearing her question just as she turned to leave, the shopkeeper chuckled bitterly.

"A bum like me will meet the same end wherever I go, so what's the difference?"

With that, he closed his eyes and began to snore.

"...Tch."

Grinding her teeth at his words, the girl stepped back out into the biting winter wind.

Whoooosh...

"...Haa."

After trudging against the wind for a long while, she stared down at her frozen hands.

"C-come on... come o-on...!"

Suddenly, she clenched her fists with all her might.

"Come out... I said come out..!"

A faint light flickered in her hands—but that was all. The radiant blaze that once melted anything in her path couldn't even thaw the falling snow. It merely glowed brightly, nothing more.

"Please... come back..."

Gazing at the dim light, she began to sob softly. The words carried layers of meaning, but none of them could become reality. The person she longed for had been dead for ages, and the light she craved had long faded.

"...Ah."

Only after a warm teardrop slid down her cheek and fell onto her hand did she snap out of her weeping trance.

"I... don't even deserve to grieve."

Muttering coldly, she forced her frozen body forward, walking and walking. The cold turned to pain, then numbed even that, yet she pressed on through the brutal chill until she reached a familiar place.

"Everyone, I'm here."

A spot she'd visited every weekend for years to pray—now so forsaken that even ghosts seemed to avoid it.

"Sorry for coming uninvited."

It was the apology she always offered upon arrival. She feared showing her face might anger the one slumbering here.

She'd never once skipped it.

"...Haa."

But each time, the guilt outweighed any comfort. Apologizing daily to those she'd killed through her own fault wouldn't bring them back.

Creeeak...

"Oh... I should fix th—"

Opening the gate to what was once a grand, elegant mansion's courtyard, she muttered at the creaking door—then fell silent.

"...Right. Today was the last time."

Sighing those words, she entered the courtyard like a condemned criminal, head bowed low.

Frey Raon Starlight's birthplace.

As always upon arriving, she headed toward the ruins of the house where it had all happened that day, bowed her head, and murmured a prayer. She worried his soul might still suffer in the basement where he slept.

"Hello."

Emerging from the ghostly remnants, she approached a distant gray tombstone and bowed.

"Sorry I haven't visited lately. There was... a bit of trouble."

Stroking Frey's tomb as she spoke, she removed her hood, revealing her identity. Her once-long, lustrous golden hair was cropped short into a bob, her flawless body now scarred beyond count. She was Clana Solar Sunrise, soon to be known as the empire's last emperor.

"...Sorry, it wasn't just a bit."

The empire's emperor knelt by a gravestone in filthy robes, on the verge of tears. Scandalous, perhaps—but not surprising in the Sunrise Empire. Its fall was already a foregone conclusion.

"We won a few times at first... I thought there might be hope... But with the Solar Mana gone and this endless brutal winter... I just can't hold on anymore."

She didn't know how many years had passed since that day, but exhaustion weighed heavily on Clana as she murmured unconsciously.

"If you were here... this never would have happened."

Turning her gaze as she spoke, she looked to Serena's grave.

"........."

Staring silently at the two tombs for a long moment, Clana began to speak in a trembling voice.

"The Demon King's army has reached the capital. Aside from the imperial forces, the only person left seems to be that drunken shopkeeper I met earlier."

Recalling the man as she muttered, her voice shook harder.

"At dawn, I'll lead the imperial army in a final stand against the Demon King. I can't use Solar Mana anymore... the troops are all sick or exhausted... but it'll buy enough time for the evacuating citizens at the harbor and for Aria to escape."

Tears streaming now, she continued,

"So, this is the last time I see you... Tomorrow, I'll..."

Whoooosh...!

"Hik!"

As if in reply, a fierce winter gust pierced her. Pain like needles stabbed her wounds, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"...Sorry. For feeling pain like this in front of you. The agony you endured... was a hundred, a thousand times worse..."

Grinding her teeth through the pain from her wounds, she pulled something from her bosom.

"...A star-gazing flower. The one you picked for me long ago."

With trembling, frostbitten hands, she placed it at the base of Frey's tombstone, wiped her tears, and drew out another item.

"Serena. A moon-gazing flower. I just... felt you should have one too."

Placing the moon-gazing flower at Serena's tomb, she rose with a sorrowful expression.

"Well then, rest in peace. Everyone."

Whoooosh...!

"Ahk!"

But an especially vicious wind assailed her right then.

".......Tch."

She collapsed with a cry but quickly gritted her teeth and stood, refusing to show such weakness before the two she'd killed.

"...Huh?"

Trembling violently yet bowing in farewell, Clana spotted something glinting at the base of Frey's tombstone.

"......A ring?"

It was a ring, its surface unusually shiny.

"I don't know who... but probably left by someone Frey once helped."

Staring at the gleaming exterior and worn interior, she murmured with guilt-filled eyes. After Frey's death, his secret good deeds had all come to light long ago. The one that hurt her most: he'd founded the empire's largest orphanage.

Learning that had devastated her. Visiting and seeing the children greet her innocently had nearly made her vomit from self-loathing.

"Ah... doing it again."

Lost in those thoughts, she realized her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Ngh..."

Grasping her right hand with her left sent jolts of pain. Frostbite, no doubt.

Thud, thud.

But Clana ignored it and left the graveyard. In the empire's eternal winter, frostbite was trivial.

"Cough, cough!"

A cold was trivial too. Highly contagious, but low fatality. The real terror was the Demon King's army, with its 100% kill rate.

Thud, thud.

Clutching her mouth with shivering hands to stifle coughs, she exited what was now Frey's mansion-turned-graveyard and murmured sadly,

"Feels just like back then."

The day Frey and Serena died, when she'd ascended as emperor and received her fateful mission against the Demon King, stepping into this very courtyard. She still couldn't forget that feeling.

"Before rejoining the army... I need to warm up a bit."

Standing frozen in place until sensation left her body, she finally muttered and moved.

"What, back again?"

"...I need a place to warm up."

With nowhere else, she eyed the shopkeeper warily and entered the shop.

"Pfft... weird kid."

Glancing at her, the owner smirked and asked,

"You... got money?"

"No."

"Then why come to a bar?"

"I can pay for a drink."

Chuckling, he pulled a bottle from behind and handed it to her.

"...Is it okay to give booze to a kid?"

"If you're sticking around a death trap like this, you must wanna die anyway... one bottle won't matter."

Grinning at her question, he gulped down his own drink and said,

"...I'll head up to sleep then. Stay or go, your call."

"What if I steal your money?"

"Like I have any. Booze, sure."

Whistling a tune, he climbed the stairs.

Creeeak...

"...Huh?"

Just then, the door opened, revealing a figure in a black robe.

"Um, excuse me? Customer's here..."

Clana called upstairs in panic, but no reply came.

"Hm..."

Frowning briefly, she eyed the newcomer.

"...Are you one of the Demon King's minions?"

"No, just a passing traveler."

She nodded soullessly at his quiet response in a weary voice.

"I see."

Silence fell.

Gulp, gulp.

Staring blankly at the bottle, Clana suddenly seized it and chugged.

"...Haa."

She rarely drank, but to drown her dread of tomorrow's final battle, guilt over Frey and Serena, and myriad other emotions—this was her choice.

"It's all... all my fault..."

But it was yet another misjudgment. The harsh, bitter liquor dragged her buried darkness to the surface.

"If not for me... everything would have been fine..."

She slammed her hand on the table repeatedly.

"No, stop... I don't want to remember... I said no..!"

Though years had passed since losing her Solar Mana, the sensation of tearing Frey's corpse still lingered vividly in her hands—the solar beams from her fingers piercing his skull, the vibration of her summoned dagger in his heart.

"...Enough."

As she screamed and pounded, the man at the next table murmured lowly. She finally came to her senses and looked at her hand.

"Haa... ugh..."

It was a mangled ruin.

"Frey... I was wrong... sorry..."

The horrific sensation that had tormented her for years refused to fade, and she collapsed over the table, sobbing.

"If I... if I just hadn't done that then..."

From her bosom came a letter, worn thin from endless readings.

Reading that far, memories of their conversation flickered in Clana's mind.

"Wanna be friends?"

"Get lost if you're faking pity."

"Huh?"

"I hate fake people... so leave."

"N-nooo... I wanna be friends..."

I tried talking to a lady I'd never seen, wanting to be friends, and got chewed out.

Back then, Clana had been spiteful to shake him off. She'd demanded the sparkling star-gazing flower the elder princesses had bragged about receiving from the empress.

She figured a calculating kid like him wouldn't bother. He'd search the woods a bit, grumble, and quit.

To a tragic princess used only since birth—losing even her mother and sealing her heart—it was natural.

I never imagined it'd take three days to find it.

But that incident turned her debut ball into chaos—for reasons the empress never intended.

Anyway, my conclusion is...

"Excuse me, I can't watch this sober."

"Huh?"

Deep in trauma, slowly reading Frey's letter she pored over each time, the man beside her shook his head.

"Please stop slamming your hand down?"

"Ah... sorry..."

Only then did Clana realize she'd kept pounding the table while reading.

"Sorry. I didn't..."

Her hand was far worse now. Lowering her head, she apologized to the man.

"Then writing that will was pointless."

"...Pardon?"

The man said something odd.

"Damn, didn't expect it this bad... Is this why the system let me meet her last?"

"Y-you...!"

Staring blankly, Clana's eyes widened as he dropped his voice disguise, jumping up.

"Greetings, Princess."

"F-Frey!!!!!!!!"

The robed man shed his hood, revealing silver hair and eyes. Clana screamed in shock and awe.

"...This pattern again."

"Frey! You're alive? You are!! Right?!!!"

Her face alight with joy, she lunged at him.

"We can't waste time! The Demon King's right there!! Hurry and escape with m—gah."

"...Haa."

Tears of joy streaming after so long, she passed right through his dark ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expression and slammed into the wall.

"Wh-what? How? Frey's right here... why..."

Confused, she reached out with trembling hands to touch him.

".......Figures."

After groping his intangible form desperately, she wore a despairing look and demanded,

"So, what are you? Hallucination? Vengeful ghost? Personally, I'd prefer the latter. I could pay for my sins..."

"At first, I wondered why this was a trial..."

Pitying her, Frey murmured lowly,

"......Nothing fits the word 'trial' better than this."