After everything that happened, I tried to sleep. Perhaps the tension from earlier had worn me out — in the end, this child's body couldn't hold on any longer, and forced sleep kicked in on its own.
This time, the dream was simply one of being on a grassy meadow with a gentle breeze — a dream I had experienced many times before.
I was there with both of my parents, and with my aunt on my father's side, who was still alive at the time.
That was so long ago. I could no longer even remember her face clearly, but I knew without a doubt that she was truly my aunt.
My aunt had no idea that she was a member of the imperial family. She lived as an ordinary girl.
All she knew was... that her family had a secret being kept from her.
Because from the moment my father was born, my aunt — who could only create beauty-related things — had already been displaced from the throne. And even if she had known, she would never have fought for it.
Father loved and trusted my aunt deeply. That was why I used to be left in her care so often.
She read me many wonderful stories and took me to all kinds of beautiful places.
And her embrace was so warm and calming — I always managed to fall asleep within it.
To protect my aunt, Father often shut himself away in his office, planning layer upon layer of truly secretive protective arrangements. He would even forget to eat and drink during those times.
My aunt was truly someone deserving of protection — completely and entirely deserving of it.
But fate had other plans. My aunt suddenly disappeared for several months.
And when she was found, Father said she looked utterly disheveled and drained — so much so that she had to be hospitalized.
Whatever she had endured during that abduction, my aunt could not bear it. She was found dead in the bathroom.
I didn't understand anything at the time, but I saw my aunt's body with my own eyes — inside the bathtub. She was holding a box cutter. Her face was blank, with dark, heavy bags under her eyes. Her lips, once a vivid red, had faded to a pale pink. Her other hand was submerged in the water, bearing the marks left by the cutter she held. The water she had drawn for soaking had turned a deep blood red. Her falling hair drifted along in the turbulent current.
My aunt had truly soaked in her own blood.
Father arrived after his subordinates reported it. He looked completely undone — calling out, "SISTER! SISTER!" with a panicked face drenched in sweat and tears.
Father ordered his subordinates to take me away from the scene, his expression hollow and crushed.
Perhaps Father didn't want me to see something too brutal for a child's eyes. But Father... I had already seen it. I had already seen everything, Father.
After that day, Father was never as cheerful as he once was. Sometimes he couldn't control his emotions and spoke to me with a cold distance — and then afterward he would keep apologizing, his face on the verge of tears.
Father kept suppressing and holding back every one of those emotions for my sake. That was why I never wanted to burden him. I always kept my problems hidden from him — even when I was being bullied.
I kept so much of the same suffering buried inside myself, until I finally made the decision to leave that environment behind...
That is who I am now — someone perpetually trapped in the past. A failure who runs from reality.
That is me.
I have always dreamed up whatever I could to cover over the bitter truth. I even often appeared to be talking to myself.
That is precisely why Father and Mother would only laugh at me if I ever voiced any of it aloud.
The only way forward was to prove that I was right — but that was incredibly difficult.
And even if I managed to prove one thing, they would surely deflect it and find some other excuse behind it.
I tried running through the meadow in this dream.
This was only a dream, so I should have been able to run freely here without worrying about mana levels.
I kept running, and running, and running — the wind swept through me, cooling and refreshing, and I was filled with energy!
Until I turned around and realized I had run very, very far from the shadows of my family.
This was my choice, and this was the reality of it...
But was running away truly the best thing? I didn't know. I genuinely didn't know.
For now, I would follow wherever the wind chose to lead me.
All I had in this moment was the image of the past and the feeling of the present. I had no idea what the future held.
I was not a main character who knew what lay ahead, nor some brilliantly gifted genius. From the very beginning, I had only ever followed my own heart.
There were even times when I acted without thinking at all.
I sat down at the edge of a cliff within that meadow — this cliff seemed to mark the boundary of my dream for now.
"Hey, goddess — is what I'm doing the right thing?"
I didn't know why, but the one who answered was not my goddess. The voice was slightly low and deep, like that of a woman who had lived a few years — and it said, "There is nothing wrong with simply surviving."
I immediately turned toward the voice.
"Who's there?!"
But when I turned, there was no one anywhere.
That was strange, wasn't it?
I scratched my head — my way of showing my own confusion.
"Maybe it was just the wind." I thought.
I went on enjoying the peaceful atmosphere until it was time to wake up.
When my eyes opened, Charlotte greeted me with a smile.
"Puppy — how was your dream this time? Was it a good one?"
I climbed out of my little bed and leapt toward Charlotte, tail wagging and tongue hanging out.
WOOF WOOF
So, Charlotte — what are we doing today?
I said, dragging Charlotte toward the door with pure, bouncing joy.
Shifting to the goddess's side.
The golden dragon goddess, Leticia, came to the "Author's" room while the Author was sorting out finances and repairing a borrowed weapon.
"Leticia — have you gone to see her yet? (Balance)" Said the Author.
Leticia turned her head away to hide her sorrowful expression.
"What do you mean? I already told you — she is simply a new soul."
The Author smiled slyly.
"I know that, but shouldn't you be the one to tell her about it?"
Leticia gripped the wall and dug her fingers into it, leaving deep marks behind.
"I know, but I can't bring myself to do it, Author! I can't even bear to look at her face."
She let out a long breath.
"I don't want to shatter her happiness."
The Author walked over and stood in front of Leticia.
She placed her hands on Leticia's shoulders.
"But, Leti... whether you want to or not, you have to do it. It's for the good of both of them. I've already given you so much leeway."
Leticia's eyes trembled. She could no longer hold back her tears.
"I... know that." She crumpled — unable to contain her feelings any longer. Her body went so weak that she could no longer hold herself upright.
The Author turned back toward her computer.
"We'll think more about that later. Leticia, I need your help." The Author sat back in her chair and swiveled it to face Leticia.
"I need your help repairing Apollo's arrow." She then leaned forward, clapped her hands together in front of her, and peered out from behind her clasped palms with the most pitiful expression she could manage. "Please~."
Leticia wiped her tears with a nearby tissue.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me — you're the only one who can toy with my feelings like this. You absolute disaster of an Author!" Leticia erupted, tearing through the walls of the room.
Fortunately, the equipment — the computer and everything else — was left undamaged, because the Author had thrown herself around it to shield it.
"Goodness, thank goodness my beloved computer wasn't caught in that." Said the Author with a sigh of relief.
TO BE CONTINUED~