In the realm beyond death, two spirits conversed.
Even to this day, Pax doesn't really know how you felt about him.
???: [Pax… So that's what his real name was. Alright, I'll give you my soul.]
!? How did you?... Well, thanks.
I reached out to collect this perspective, but before I could, she seemed to hesitate:
???: [Just one question... How has...] she hesitated on what name she should say. [my son been doing these days?]
I think currently he's the happiest he's ever been. He spends his days peacefully with a woman he loves.
???: [Good, I'm glad.]
With that, the spirit closed its eyes and let go, smiling more motherly than it ever had in life. I didn't feel a shred of joy as I entered its dream and consumed it.
I hadn't lied when I said that to the spirit, though I still felt a strange bitterness in my mouth. As I watched the new memories form in my mind, the bitterness only strengthened.
I have to wonder... What good would this perspective do for the story he wants to write?
- - - - - - -
"I hate this view."
Martha had been born in the slums of Celestia.
"I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I HATE IT!"
It was dirty and smelled of shit. There was nothing good about being born with nothing. Still, Martha had a wish. She wished to fly out of this place and live amongst the people she felt she belonged to-- the nobles.
Perhaps that is why she was graced with wind manipulation magic at the young age of 5. Truthfully, Martha didn't even know her own birthday, much less her age. But if the nobles gained the ability to practice magic at the age of five, then she must have been five the day she learned magic as well.
Regardless, it would take some work for others to recognize that she was a noble. That was because there was only one way for someone born in the slums to one day become a noble, that being to become a strong adventurer and then marry into a noble family.
Anyone could do it with enough strength and luck. But because anyone could do it, that made it all the more difficult to stand out from all the competitors.
"Don't look down on me. I'll rise up and become the strongest regardless of what you think."
She trained hard and recruited friends to join her on her journey. Oliver and Mau had been her friends for a while, so she trusted her dreams to them. Together they rose through the ranks of adventurers for the sake of that dream. Climbing through mud and shit to gain every bit of strength she could get, Martha fought. Risking their lives with every battle, the Golden Wings rose to prominence. One day, they added Rock to their ranks, gaining even more strength.
Rock was a bit older than them, but they had needed another warrior to help Oliver hold off stronger monsters while Martha killed from a distance.
No matter how many years had passed, Martha would never forget her dream or get comfortable where she was. A typical B-rank adventurer could buy whatever they wanted or live the rest of their life without having to work another day.
But A-rank was the minimum you needed to become a noble. At least, that's what Martha believed. Truthfully, there was no guarantee, even if you became S rank, because the only way to become a noble was to marry one, get adopted by one, or become a concubine. Nobles marrying commoners was uncommon, but not unheard of. Those with magic power were believed to pass their strength on to their children, so the practice served to further consolidate power at the top. Even so, Marquis Witherton was a bit of an eccentric when it came to nobles.
He didn't care about rank or background and instead fell in love with Martha, the person. Her strength and beauty were just an excuse he used for others to accept them.
They had met randomly one day at the adventurer's guild. In those days, Marquis Witherton sometimes went monster hunting for fun. Though he went incognito, as soon as Martha saw him, she could tell that he was no ordinary man. The way that he carried himself gave off an air of refinement even when he was acting like a commoner.
Even ten years after that day, Martha never fell in love with Hector Witherton, the man. She loved his status and his money. She loved how people would serve her and treat her with dignity and respect when she was his wife. Perhaps you could call her vain, but to her, this was everything.
She didn't miss her adventuring friends-- they had always been a means to and end. Besides, they would be perfectly fine without her.
Eventually, Martha had to bear a child for Marquis Witherton. She didn't mind the process because she knew that this was one of the duties of a nobleman's wife. What she didn't expect was for her child to be a monster.
Even from a young age, Martha knew that there was something wrong with Adam. He never cried, he never complained, he never sought out his mother, and he never looked her in the eye. One day, she caught Adam reading a textbook and practicing magic when he was only three years old.
She knew that even without any help from her, Adam would grow frighteningly strong and intelligent. He would amass great power and be remembered throughout history.
"But why does that bother me?"
Perhaps it was a deep jealousy for her own son.
"Why was it that he was simply born with incredible strength and intelligence? Is that what it meant for someone to truly embody a noble? Does that make me a fake?"
She looked at the luxury around her and saw how fragile it was. And when she looked in her pristine bejeweled mirror, she saw how fragile she was herself.
If the Marquess ever got bored of her, she would instantly be reduced to a lowly slum-dweller once more. If she got sick even once, she could lose her beauty and everything with that.
Adam wouldn't though. There was no way that boy, with all of his genius, could ever be considered anything but noble.
"Don't look down on me."
She would stop acting as a noble and start being a noble. She would embody that idea and the ambition that came alongside it.
But for some reason, Martha and the Marquess couldn't have another child. They tried for years and even saw some doctors, but nothing would work. Adam would be the only child she would ever be having. Thus, making him the only thing keeping her superficial dream together-- At least, that's how she saw it.
"Is this all that my life was worth? Is this the extent of my dream?"
Though saddened by what her life would amount to, she was determined to see it to the end.
But then one night her dream burned down right in front of her, literally.
How unfair that everything she had worked for was just taken away. How embarrassing that she would be forced to run back to her old adventuring friends and ask them for help. How angry she was. Angry at herself for letting her dream slip through her fingertips, and angry at the world for taking what was rightfully hers.
But then she looked at the little boy sat beside her in the carriage.
How small he looked, curled up in a ball and asleep. How weak and vulnerable he was in this moment. All that genius and talent couldn't save him. All that nobility and he still ended up with nothing.
She was all that he had left.
For the first time in her life she felt like a mother to that child. She felt as if, for once, she was actually needed. And she felt the depths of Hector's love for her. That love that she could never understand.
And so she wept. For the first time in her life, her soul felt love as the tears streamed down her face.
It hurts.
"Love… hurts."