Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Augustine didn’t know what to think.
She had desperately wanted to share her discoveries and her growing suspicions regarding Milán with David and Amanda, but the moment the lecture ended, they left the room without even attempting to approach her.
It was true that she had explicitly asked them to keep their distance temporarily, but they hadn’t even sent a simple text message to check on her.
She left the classroom with a bitter aftertaste coating her throat.
At the exit, the one person she least expected was waiting for her.
It was Sara, the classmate who had avoided her so many times in the past. Augustine was about to walk right past her, assuming the girl was standing there for some other reason entirely unrelated to her, when Sara softly called her name.
Augustine turned around, genuinely surprised.
“Are you talking to me?” she asked, incredulous.
The girl was extremely shy and could barely meet her eyes, but she gave a firm nod. Augustine approached her cautiously.
Sara still seemed unable to hold her gaze, but she nodded again, a faint smile appearing on her face. “I wanted to ask you… I wondered if you’d like to have lunch together.”
Augustine felt an unexpected surge of profound gratitude for this timid act of goodwill. She had to fight back the sudden tears threatening to fall, nodding vigorously. “I’d love to.”
Standing nearby, Sara’s A’aruin—a mature, dignified woman—watched them. Augustine could distinctly sense that the spirit felt incredibly proud of her human at that exact moment.
They walked together through the hallway toward the nearest campus cafeteria.
Sara didn’t seem to have any intention of starting a conversation, but Augustine deeply appreciated her silent, supportive company.
Once they were seated with their food, Augustine couldn’t help but ask about her classmate's sudden change of heart.
“Why did you want to have lunch with me? I’m not exactly a popular person right now,” she said, a hint of vulnerability slipping into her voice.
“You’ve always been kind to me,” Sara replied softly. “You’re the only person in this place who actually remembers my name.”
Augustine looked at her with renewed interest and warmth. “Thank you,” she finally said. “Thank you for being kind to me right now. It hasn’t been easy these past few days.”
“Besides,” Sara said, gathering a bit of courage.
“I really liked how you defended yourself yesterday. I mean, I don’t believe the rumors at all, but even if they were true—if they were really true—why should anyone else get to judge you?
I just don’t understand it. It inspired me to hear you defend your right to be exactly who you are. I wish I could do the same.”
Augustine smiled gently at her. “I looked a lot more confident than I actually felt,” she admitted.
Sara nodded in understanding silence, stealing a fleeting glance at her eyes.
“By the way, the rumors aren’t true,” Augustine added softly, wanting to be completely transparent. “I thought you might want to hear it from me.”
“Thank you for telling me. Perhaps it would be good if you told your friend Amanda, too.”
Augustine looked at her, entirely confused. “What do you mean?”
Amanda already knew perfectly well that the rumors were false.
“She’s been the one insisting the most to everyone that David is suffering terribly because of you,” Sara explained, seeming genuinely puzzled by Augustine's ignorance. “Didn’t you know?”
“That can’t be…” Augustine whispered, feeling the room suddenly spin around her.
Her phone vibrated violently in her hand at that exact moment. A text message from an unknown number had just arrived.
Hi, Augustine… It’s Isaac. I’m not telling you this because you threatened to sue me, but because I truly believe it’s the right thing to do.
The person who submitted the anonymous post uses this username: @amandi.mundi.
I’m very sorry for everything that happened.
Even if you don’t believe me, I’d really like us to be friends in the future.
Augustine felt a wave of nausea hit her so hard she thought she was going to vomit right there. She recognized that username instantly. It was Amanda’s.
* * *
Back in his palace, Alderian reread all the letters he had reviewed so far, and suddenly, they took on an entirely new, terrifying meaning.
Aldana truly remembered something. Something massive.
Something that predated even their current existence.
Lethe had chosen her and shown her, repeatedly, fragments of a remote, forgotten past—a past where A’aru possessed a brilliant sun, and where he had wings of pure white.
The sheer impact of the realization hit him hard, leaving him breathless. He noticed there were still a few notes left that he hadn’t finished reviewing. He grabbed them eagerly, sat down, and began to read.
February 28, 2005
Since that day, you look more dimmed than ever.
I haven’t allowed myself to visit you in your dreams again; I’m so afraid of causing you more suffering.
Alderian, forgive me, I have only dragged you down into the bottomless pit of my own melancholy.
Hate me, forget me. Please, just live your life happily.
April 12, 2005
Lethe wants to break me and leave me no room to breathe.
For what other purpose would she show me images of a time I’m uncertain really existed?
Or if it ever will? A past or a future (I no longer know what it is I see) where you and I are engaged to be married, where our union is not a sin, but a cause for immense joy and celebration.
I was your future bride, and you were so happy.
Your eyes didn’t lie to me; there was love in them.
You loved me, and I loved you. For the first time in my life, I want to forget, but at the same time, I want to cling to you, even if doing so means longing for you for all of eternity.
Alderian struggled to keep reading, his vision blurring. He could feel Aldana’s raw pain and agonizing conflict in every single stroke of the pen. An engagement. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful dream.
December 15, 2005
Today I couldn’t stand it anymore. I entered your dreams. You saw me and immediately embraced me, as if you had been waiting for me all this time.
I wanted to resist, but my desire and greed were stronger than my sanity.
I gave myself to you, and you gave yourself to me.
Tomorrow you won’t remember a thing, but I will live an eternity trying to survive the memory of tonight.
Today, more than ever, I wish you were here.
Our home feels emptier than ever, and the light of A’aru is grayer and darker than before.
Alderian didn’t understand how it was humanly or spiritually possible that he had sought her body when his conscious mind didn’t even remember who she was, but his love for Aldana ran so deep that, deep down, it didn’t entirely surprise him.
Then and now, he simply could not resist her pull.
Perhaps it was exactly like his instinctual memory of flying: the physical body remembers what the conscious mind is forced to forget.
His body knew Aldana, even if he didn’t know how long they had belonged to one another.
December 22, 2005
I don’t know how, but the Guardian of Order has discovered me.
I won’t resist him… I prefer to be subjected to Oblivion, hoping to somehow remember you again in the next cycle, than to fight him and have them separate us forever.
Forgive me, Alderian. And if you can, remember this…
We were, we are, and we shall be. I love you forever, Aldana.
The letters slipped from his trembling hands, fluttering to the floor like autumn leaves.
He hadn’t expected a different ending; on the contrary, he had only confirmed his darkest fears. Augustine and he were currently walking along the razor-thin edge of a cliff, and it was entirely naive to think they could stay off the High Council’s radar for much longer.
Earlier today, he had lied deliberately to the gods, actively hiding the truth about Augustine’s anomaly. He didn’t regret it for a second; in fact, he would do it again without hesitation to protect her.
But for how much longer could he successfully hide the truth before the Sovereign Guardians descended upon them?
He picked up Aldana’s letters once more. In one of the earlier passages, she had described watching him practice with a sword… would he be able to wield one if he tried? He was determined to find out soon enough.
He descended the grand staircases, heading to a secure chamber located in one of the palace’s secluded interior gardens where a vast, ancient collection of swords, spears, shields, and armor was kept.
He had never had much interest in weapons and rarely entered this sector, but at this moment, it was the precise place to test his suspicion.
The room rested in heavy semi-darkness; only a few faint threads of light filtered through the small, high windows near the ceiling. The weapons rested in orderly rows, meticulously classified and maintained. Whoever had been in charge of them in the past had done an absolutely impeccable job.
He walked slowly among the racks until a specific weapon caught his eye: a sword resting alone on a small velvet pedestal.
Its hilt was crafted from an unknown, gleaming metal, displaying intricate, swirling designs that beautifully evoked the image of a rising sun.
He reached out and wrapped his fingers around the grip.
Its weight felt strangely, unsettlingly familiar.
Would he actually be able to swing it?
The blade was heavy enough to require both hands to steady. He moved to a clearer, open area of the chamber and, without quite knowing how or why, he raised the sword, smoothly adopting what he assumed was an offensive attacking stance.
For a second, he felt entirely ridiculous; he had no idea what he was doing.