[Realm: Uhorus]

[Location: Verdantis]

[Capital City]

Lucinda flushed slightly at her fellow spawn’s sheer bluntness.

"No, I just..." She awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. "I never really thought about it before."

"How does one not think about what they enjoy?" Alyssia questioned with a raised brow.

"I was very busy." The armored spawn defended.

"With what?" Alyssia quirked up a brow.

Lucinda opened her mouth and paused for a moment before continuing.

She then slowly lowered her hand.

"...A lot of things."

Alyssia’s expression flattened further.

"That answered nothing."

Lucinda sighed quietly before finally leaning back slightly against the stone railing near the flowerbeds.

"When you are a spawn of Octavia," she started carefully, "people expect things from you constantly."

Alyssia’s gaze sharpened slightly as Lucinda continued.

"Strength, protection, and stability." Her fingers curled slightly as she continued. "You become someone people rely on before you even fully understand yourself."

The wind moved softly through her pale hair.

"I trained constantly," Lucinda admitted. "Studied combat, magic, strategy, and diplomacy." A small laugh escaped her. "Most days blurred together."

Alyssia watched her silently.

"I think..." Lucinda paused briefly. "I think I became so focused on being useful that I stopped asking myself what I actually liked."

That admission came more seriously than she expected.

Alyssia stared at her for several moments.

Then unexpectedly—

"That is incredibly sad."

Lucinda blinked. "You say that very bluntly."

"Because it is." Alyssia replied without hesitation. "You speak as though your entire existence revolves around such obligations."

Lucinda frowned faintly.

"Well... did yours not?"

Alyssia went quiet; the silence lingered long enough that Lucinda thought she may have overstepped.

Then Alyssia exhaled softly.

"It did," she admitted. "For a very long time." Her red eyes drifted skyward toward the wretched skies above the courtyard. "But eventually I realized something."

Lucinda waited quietly.

"If you exist only for the sake of duty," Alyssia murmured, "then eventually there will be nothing left of you once that duty ends."

Lucinda looked at her carefully.

Alyssia smiled again, though this smile carried melancholy beneath it.

"You should find something you enjoy beyond battle and responsibilities," she said softly. "Otherwise, years from now you will become unbearably dull."

Lucinda stared at her, then unexpectedly chuckled under her breath.

"You speak like someone with many years."

"And you speak like someone forty years older than me despite technically being younger," Alyssia replied immediately.

Lucinda shook her head lightly. For a small moment the tension clawing at her chest eased slightly.

"Right, but how old are you exactly, if you do not mind my asking?" Lucinda found herself asking after a brief pause. "It’s just... Lady Lyra mentioned you were from three hundred years ago."

The question sat between them as a cold breeze drifted through the courtyard.

Lucinda almost expected Alyssia to dismiss it. Instead, the white-haired girl seemed entirely unbothered. Her eyes remained fixed on the flowerbeds before them, studying the vibrant petals swaying gently despite the unnatural climate maintained within the castle grounds.

"Nineteen, technically," Alyssia murmured after a moment.

Lucinda blinked.

"Nineteen?"

Alyssia nodded once.

"In my death, I spent some time in another place." Her tone remained casual, though a distant emotion briefly entered her gaze. "Though do not ask me to describe it. It gets tedious."

Lucinda tilted her head slightly.

"Tedious?"

Alyssia let out a small sigh.

"Everyone asks the same questions."

Her expression became dry.

"What was it like? Did it hurt? Was it peaceful? Did you see anything divine? Did you meet anyone? Was there a gate? A light? A voice?" She waved a hand dismissively. "And the answer to most of those questions is either complicated or disappointing."

Lucinda could not help but smile slightly. "Disappointing?"

"Yes." Alyssia folded her arms. "People always expect revelations when it comes to Death. They expect profound truths about existence." Her red eyes shifted toward Lucinda. "Instead, I mostly remember being profoundly confused and annoyed."

That earned a small smile from Lucinda; Alyssia looked strangely satisfied by that reaction.

"Besides," she continued, "three hundred years passed here. Not for me." Her voice softened slightly. "It is difficult to explain, but I do not feel three hundred years old."

Lucinda studied her for a moment, the way Alyssia carried herself. The occasional immaturity, irritation, or pride. The awkwardness she sometimes tried to hide.

No, she truly did not feel ancient, at least not entirely. There was wisdom there and experience too. But there was also a young woman who seemed to be trying to find her place in a world that had continued moving without her.

"And you said you owe your life to Mikoto," Lucinda gently pressed after a moment. "Why?"

Alyssia’s expression shifted into a more thoughtful one.

"I do not know all the finer details," she admitted. "Lyra was the one who explained most of it to me." Her gaze lowered slightly. "Apparently my soul was in the possession of an Ancestor."

Lucinda’s brows furrowed immediately. "An Ancestor?"

Alyssia nodded. "It was used for battle before eventually being retrieved."

The way she said it carried an odd discomfort that seemed difficult to properly define. As though she disliked the thought of her soul being used as a tool.

"After that," Alyssia continued quietly, "Mikoto created my physical body."

Silence followed as Lucinda stared at her. Alyssia stared back, then looked away first.

"I realize how absurd that sounds."

"A little," Lucinda admitted.

"A little?"

"A lot, maybe," Lucinda corrected.

That earned the smallest huff from Alyssia.

For a moment neither spoke as Lucinda’s thoughts drifted.

("Ancestor...") The title sat in her mind for a moment. ("Someone like Rhiannon.") A small frown formed on her face; she knew enough about Ancestors to understand how dangerous that revelation truly was. Yet despite everything Alyssia had just revealed, Lucinda found her thoughts settling elsewhere.

Not on the Ancestor, the resurrection, and not even on the impossible nature of Alyssia’s existence.

("She’s really not that much older than me.") Lucinda glanced at the other girl. ("Yet she went through all of that.") Three hundred years lost, Death, an ancestor, being brought back, waking in a completely different era and then finding almost everyone she once knew gone.

Lucinda understood now why there was always a strange melancholy hidden beneath Alyssia’s sharp attitude.

She did not feel pity for her fellow spawn but instead understanding. The sort that came from realizing someone had endured far more than they ever openly admitted.

Then suddenly—

"Oh." Lucinda stopped.

Alyssia blinked. "What?"

"Reading." The armored spawn blurted out.

"What?"

"I think I liked reading."

Alyssia stared for several seconds, then slowly turned toward her. "I beg your pardon?"

Lucinda rubbed the back of her neck. "I think I liked reading."

"You think?" One elegant brow rose immediately.

Lucinda immediately realized how ridiculous that sounded, so she gave a sheepish smile. "It is something I stopped doing with everything that happened."

Alyssia continued staring. "So you forgot your hobbies?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds terrible," Lucinda murmured.

"Because it is terrible," Alyssia huffed.

Lucinda chuckled despite herself; the sound surprised even her.

Alyssia’s expression remained dry. "Honestly, you could have chosen anything."

"But I did choose something," Lucinda stated after a moment.

"Yes, but you arrived at it after several minutes of contemplation," Alyssia pointed out. "And it is not something you even do anymore."

"I have been busy," Lucinda reminded.

"So you keep saying."

Lucinda groaned quietly as Alyssia’s lips twitched ever so slightly.

"What did you read?" Alyssia asked.

The question caught Lucinda off guard. "Hmm?"

"What sort of books?" Alyssia clarified.

Lucinda thought for a moment. "History for one." Alyssia did not seem surprised by that. "Adventure stories." Alyssia seemed somewhat satisfied with that. "Military records." Alyssia visibly winced as Lucinda rose a brow. "What?"

"Those are not leisure books." Her fellow spawn pointed out.

"They can be," Lucinda said back.

"No."

"They can."

"No."

The answer came so immediately that Lucinda found herself almost chuckling again.

Alyssia shook her head. "If those are the type of things you enjoy, then you are truly hopeless."

For a brief moment the conversation became easier. Because neither mentioned Angels, the Abyss, missing friends, or dying. They simply stood there, two young women in a castle courtyard discussing books. The normalcy felt oddly refreshing.

Then eventually Alyssia’s gaze drifted away again, toward the flowers, toward the distant castle walls and toward thoughts only she could see.

"It is something at least," she murmured quietly.

Lucinda looked toward her; Alyssia’s earlier amusement had faded, replaced by contemplation.

"But I suppose the pressure is just as bad." Her words seemed softer.

Lucinda’s smile faded slightly as Alyssia continued.

"Being incarnations of Angels." The title still felt strange, even after everything Lyra had revealed. Alyssia lowered her eyes as she continued. "I know not whether this is even a good thing for us."

The wind stirred again, flowers swayed gently, and for several moments neither girl spoke. Because there was likely no easy answer.

Not for Lucinda, not for Alyssia and not for Mikoto.

Not for anyone like them.

Being a spawn of Octavia had always carried burdens. Be it expectations, responsibilities, or power. Now there was something else added atop all of it. A history neither of them remembered and a destiny neither of them had chosen. An identity older than their current lives.

Lucinda slowly exhaled, then looked toward Alyssia.

"Maybe." Alyssia glanced at her. "Maybe it is a good thing."

The older white-haired girl raised an eyebrow.

Lucinda smiled slightly.

"Or maybe it isn’t."

Alyssia stared. "That is not very helpful."

"No." Lucinda laughed softly. "It isn’t." Then her expression became more thoughtful. "But I think Lyra was right about one thing."

"And what is that?"

Lucinda looked toward the courtyard, toward the flowers, toward the castle, and then toward the strange world they found themselves living in.

"Whatever we used to be," she said quietly, "we are still ourselves."

Alyssia fell silent and rushed to fill that silence.