CHAPTER 76
The wind was cold that night.
Aeria's fingers trembled as she folded the cloak into her bag, barely able to see through the haze fogging her vision. Her chest felt tight, as if the guilt had settled there before she'd even made the choice.
Behind her, Sorayael froze. Her voice came out soft, uncertain.
"B-But... my mother is sick. And my brother is only three years old. How could I leave them?"
Aeria turned her back to her. Not because she didn't care-because she cared too much.
That broke her.
She shut her eyes, her jaw clenched, hands gripping the edge of her satchel so hard her knuckles turned white.
She wanted to stay. Gods, she wanted to stay.
But fear was louder than loyalty that night. Fear of death. Fear of loss. Fear of watching Sorayael die and being powerless to stop it.
So she whispered, almost choking on the words, "I'm sorry, Sorayael... I'm really sorry..."
And she ran.
She didn't look back.
She couldn't.
But her guilt never let go. Not when she heard whispers in the streets of soldiers marching. Not even when she finally reached safety.
Because safety wasn't peace.
And running didn't erase what she left behind.
She burst through the threshold of their modest home, chest heaving, sweat lining her back.
Her voice caught.
Her mother stood at the window, frail frame leaning heavily on the sill, her skin as pale as the moonlight pouring through the glass. She turned slowly, weak, but smiling as always.
Aeria froze.
The soldier's armor gleamed with the emblem of Aethelgard, but his eyes told a different story - a tale of malice and cruelty that seemed to mock the very notion of honor.
Aeria's gaze was drawn to the blade in his hand, its surface slick with the crimson proof of his brutality.
The soldier's gaze locked onto hers, and for a moment, they were frozen in a tableau of horror, the only sound the labored breathing of Aeria's dying mother.
Aeria let out a guttural cry. "No.. NO!"
She scrambled to her mother, cradling her in shaking arms. "Mama.. please, stay with me, please-"
But it was too late. Her mother's eyes had gone still, her hand slipping from Aeria's bloodstained grip.
Aeria's gaze rose, meeting the soldier's contemptuous stare. His sneer was etched in her memory forever-every detail of his face, every twisted feature, every glint of sadistic pleasure in his eyes.
As he turned his back on her and walked away, Aeria felt a burning determination ignite within her.
She would never forget this face, this man who had destroyed her world in an instant.
Every step he took away from her seemed to fuel her resolve, her mind searing with the image of his face, ensuring she would recognize him again, no matter where their paths might lead.
She would never forget him. Since that night, Aeria's world has shifted.
She didn't cry that night. Not even when she buried her mother with trembling hands under the collapsed walls of their home.
Instead, she wandered through Aethelgard just to kill the one who killed her mother. She went through every guild, through every secret intelligence just to search for that man she hated.
She found a guild in an alley. It has a flag of the famous guild in the Capital-Aletheria. But Aletheria was wiped out when the war between Aethelgard and Solarian began.
She doubts if they can provide information that can track her mother's killer. She was about to turn her back when she heard someone's voice.
In that moment, she realized the truth-the guild had never been eradicated, merely veiled from sight.
They had been hiding in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to resurface.
The knowledge sparked a sense of hope and determination within her, and she felt a newfound connection to the guild and its members.
She paid them with the coins she had saved. The guildmaster smiled and found Aeria interesting.
Day passed, Aeria was taught by the guild master about skills and how to gather information. The guild master treats Aeria as his daughter.
When the day arrived and the guild gave the information about Aeria's mother.
She stood frozen, the weight of the truth crushing her beneath its unyielding pressure.
An Aethelgard soldier, the one responsible for her mother's death.
The revelation cut deep, a wound that would never fully heal.
Grief hollowed her out, leaving her a shell of the person she once was.
Guilt wrapped itself around her heart, a constant reminder of what could never be changed.
And yet, from the ashes of her sorrow, a phoenix of hatred arose, its flames burning bright and fierce, illuminating a path of vengeance that would consume her every waking thought.
.........
She found out that Drelven, a man under the command of the old hero Alexander Franca Olinze, was the one responsible for her mother's death.
Aeria's fury was a living, breathing thing, a beast that roared to life within her.
Her anger was a wildfire, spreading rapidly and leaving nothing but scorched earth in its wake.
The name Drelven seared itself into her memory, a burning brand that would forever be linked to her pain and her rage.
'The Aethelgard Imperium is really full of tyrants.' her thoughts.
But fate wasn't done testing her.
When she stepped out of the guild, her plan was to sightsee but she was captured, kidnapped instead.
She lay in the cart, chains biting into her skin, surrounded by terrified children.
Their youthful faces, filled with fear and confusion, seemed to hold a silent plea for help.
The cart was a mobile prison, carrying them to a fate worse than death.
They were to be sold, treated as property, their lives mere transactions.
Like prey.
She sat in that cage under the pale stars, biting her lip until it bled, whispering to herself.
And the stars answered.
A voice echoed in her head-quiet, powerful, unearthly.
She looked up. "Who are you...?"
Light bloomed across her skin. The chains shattered and the air trembled.
A star above glowed in sync.
A translucent window unfurled before her eyes.
You have been chosen by the Constellation of Air and Fire-Lyriamma.
She was happy to see the translucent window in front of her but another one appeared.
- Fire and Air shall be your blades.
- Protect the Bearer of Auctoritas in the shadows.
- Bring justice to the blood spilled unjustly-bring the head of your mother's killer.
'Bearer of Auctoritas?' she asked herself.
Aeria's body ignited with a fierce, crimson glow. Power surged through her, shattering her chains. The air around her seemed to vibrate with mana, as if her very presence had awakened a potent force.
Aeria's eyes sparkled with a hint of golden dust, as if the mana in the air was guiding her. The subtle shimmer seemed to point her in a specific direction, drawing her attention to a particular location.
With the guild's backing, Aeria set out on a path of vengeance and self-discovery.
Her journey would be marked by bloodshed and sacrifice, but with the guild master's guidance, she might just find a way to harness her power and emerge stronger.
The fate of Aethelgard's traffickers was all but sealed, and Aeria's future looks brighter with the Aletheria guild by her side.
She started to follow the golden mana in the air.
She sometimes rests but still follows. But when she arrived at the location where the golden mana is, she saw the person who she left behind where that person needed her the most.
She saw the person she treated as her sister.
She saw a person that she didn't expect to see.
She saw Sorayael, her best friend.
The guilt inside her builds up again and eats her up. She wanted to say sorry to her but she can't because of the guilt inside her.
............
That day came when Sorayael was kidnapped along with the young master of Aethenroth.
Aeria crouched among the shadows, her breath slow, controlled-silent. The soft shimmer of her constellation-bound cloak veiled her presence like mist in the moonlight. Around her, the ruins whispered with the wind, but her golden eyes stayed locked on a single figure.
Sorayael.
Her wrists were bound with chains that pulsed faintly with enchantments, and her silver hair, dulled by blood and dirt, hung loosely over her face.
Her aura was dimmed-suppressed. But even then, even now, Aeria felt it, the faint ripple of something powerful beneath the surface.
The Auctoritas. Still breathing, still alive. Still fighting.
'So this is what the constellation meant about Auctoritas. This is why the constellation asked me.'
Aeria's throat tightened. "You idiot," she whispered under her breath. "You're still standing... after everything."
She barely noticed the sting in her eyes as memories poured back like a rushing tide:
Sorayael giggled, wriggling anyway. "Your hands are made for swords, not hair."
"And yet you still ask me to braid it every day."
"Because I trust you."
Aeria stilled. She wasn't used to that word.
"Then I'll keep braiding it. Even if it's always crooked."
Sorayael turned and hugged her without warning. "You're the only one I'll let mess it up."
.
.
"Are you scared?" Aeria whispered, both of them facing the cracked ceiling.
"No," Sorayael lied.
Lightning struck. She flinched.
Aeria didn't tease. She pulled the blanket tighter and reached out, linking their pinkies together.
"I'll fight the lightning for you," she said, voice soft.
"You can't fight lightning."
"Try me."
Sorayael laughed. "I'll fight the thunder, then."
.
.
"What did you do to this soup?!" Sorayael coughed, waving away the smoke.
"I don't know! I followed the spell exactly!"
"You used a combat fire rune, Aeria!"
"How was I supposed to know it meant 'incinerate' not 'simmer'!?"
They both stared at the blackened pot, then burst out laughing.
"Let's just say we hunted a shadow beast and it fought back."
"...We're never telling your mom."
She blinked and wiped her tears.
A step echoed in the clearing.
A figure emerged from the shadows, the same one she had been chasing for years.
That twisted smirk.
Those unforgiving eyes.
Aeria's jaw clenched as fury surged through her veins.
'Drelven.'
The monster who slaughtered her mother and laughed as her world shattered.
And now... he stood above Sorayael, sword in hand, grin carved like malice into flesh.
'But the conditions...'
She knows that she needs to protect Sorayael in the shadows. But Sorayael's power made her relieved that she can protect herself.
When Sorayael and Zarethian left, she went to Drelven who fled to heal himself but failed when Aeria attacked him.
Drelven barely had time to react before Aeria's blade met his. Sparks exploded in the air, their magic colliding. He stumbled back, eyes widening.
Aeria didn't take her eyes off Drelven.
Wind and fire surged behind her, rippling from the constellations that had long watched from above. Her cloak unraveled, revealing wings of blazing mana stitched from stardust and wrath.
Aeria raised her blade once more-this time, not for revenge alone.
But also for Sorayael.
For the sister she failed once and swore never to fail again.
............
In the end, Aeria killed Drelven. She saw a perfect place to place the corpse of Drelven. She then left a message.