606. The Meaning of the Marks

606. The Meaning of the Marks

The spears which fought for her no longer had a golden apple. They impaled themselves into the chest of the Seventh Apostle before they tore free and blocked the swings of the other two Apostles.

“… me?” Frost wondered out loud. “Either me, or most likely the Princess. But could it have changed after I ate the slices? She’s the ‘Forbidden Fruit’? I thought she was the one who ate it. Isn’t that why she’s the One Marked by Judgement?”

“What… are you trying to imply? That I’m the Princess? Her reincarnation!?”

Frost denied this as a possibility. But the fact remained that she had multiple pasts, so perhaps it was possible after all. The spears fought for her as she drowned in shock, eventually convincing herself that this was impossible.

“Don’t you dare! First I was Sinder –! No… I came from Earth first. I don’t want to know about a third life I never knew now of all times!”

And thankfully, before her emotions could spiral further out of control, the Voice assured her:

“Then what about our appearance!? WHY DO I HAVE TO LOOK LIKE HER!?”

The spears trembled in response to her rising emotions. The Apostles were repelled effortlessly thanks to them, breaking their indomitable posture as she forced herself to keep her emotions in check.

De Jure was stabbed into the ground like a spear as she strangled it with trembling fingers.

Her expression darkened, and her eyes sank as she filled out the sound of reverberating clashes.

“All I want is an answer. I want someone to tell me the truth. Is it worth all the trouble to keep me in the dark? Tell me, Voice, will finding out these things turn me against people I’ve come to trust?”

“Then why won’t anyone tell me anything? Keeping things a secret until its too late is exactly what will turn me against them!”

The Arbiter was the one bestowed Frost the Mark of Judgement when she first came into this world.

The reason was to grant her an audience with the Arbiter, much like how the Icon of Judgement designated the Princess as the One Marked by Judgement for the same reason.

She panted. Wordless sounds left her lips. Her eyes quivered as she stared down at the base of De Jure, trying to prevent herself from erupting with rage.

“Voice. You know it too. When you asked me who I thought the Icon of Judgement was you were glad that I answered with Elysia. I’ve figured it out now. What that thing is based on.”

Frost’s hand moved down to her ring. It lingered there for a while, allowing her to finally collect herself. She considered leaving it in her Dimensional Storage, but then it would defeat the purpose of its use.

It was her final lifeline.

Her eyes emitted a dangerous glow as she raised them to match the omniscient gaze of the Icon of Judgement.

“It’s the Arbiter. The Icon of Judgement is the Arbiter. Twelve wings. Seven tails like the Seventh Apostle mentioned. The Marks… Am I wrong?”

“The all-knowing Voice needs to confirm something?”

“Aside from what I’m feeling right now…? The fact that the Princess and I aren’t that different somehow?” Frost scoffed.

“… from whom? The Apostles?”

Her attention returned to the three Apostles, who each stood still like statues as their heads were lifted towards the skies. Feathers collected on their shoulders. They were stuck into the cracked grooves of their armor.

Slowly, both hands clasped onto their spears as they held it high before their faces, as if offering it to the air.

<> [Descend From Paradise] <>

The Fifth Apostle | HP : 1n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The Sixth Apostle | HP : 1

The Seventh Apostle | HP : 1

The feathers of its wings fell. They stabbed into the ground, falling like heavy tiles. Suddenly, the apple on its spear disappeared as it turned it upside down, facing the tip towards its chest.

It occurred to the Sixth Apostle as well. When the feathers were shed, and as a thousand shards rested at its hovering feet, the tip of the spear was turned towards itself.

And finally, it was Lucifinia’s turn.

The spears were plunged into their chests. A slice of apple resided where the apple once was as their bodies burned rather than imploded. The spears immediately returned to Frost’s side as she rushed to catch the fallen slices, devouring them in an unsettling silence.

“The apple. The Captured Star, right?” Frost asked, not expecting to be answered.

But to her surprise, a prompt confirmed this for her.

“The Price of Paradise. This is the Arbiter’s tale. Is the Princess related to the Captured Star?”

“… So you’re telling me that the Princess is the same ‘Her’ she met when she was a Star? Then what about me? Why do we all share the same… same fucking appearance!? I don’t have a third life! I’m not…!”

‘Her’ was someone that the Arbiter knew long before the Captured Star became a thing. Yet somehow, Frost and the Princess were nearly identical. She of course didn’t know what this ‘Her’ person looked like, but she was guaranteed to have pale hair.

A sudden memory of the Arbiter returned to her as she fled to devour the Markers, her heart heavy with denial.

* * *

Michaela’s eyes suddenly widened when Frost was brought back through the veil in the Middle Sanctums. Her pleasant smile turned into one of shock.

“Is something the matter? Don’t tell me my face melted off or something.” Frost said.

“… nostalgia. It comes at times most unexpected.” She said, her expression then turning into one of longing. “I always thought it was a shame that your hair couldn’t be white. It’d suit you well.”

“You think so? If it was white, then do you think Iscario would’ve tried to imprison me –?”

The air became heavy all of a sudden as Michaela’s hold over the oceans wavered. An incredible amount of Nex radiated from her body, as did an overbearing pressure that nearly caused Frost’s body to shut down as if she was being judged on the spot.

“… if that were the case, then history would have played very different.”

Michaela had never made such a dark face. A warm, fluffy tail brushed against Frost’s cheek suddenly.

“It’s because you remind me so much of ‘Her’ that I am like this, Frost. That vagrant child who reached for a Star like me and pulled my hideous form out of my cocoon. They are not you. Neither are you them. That much is certain.”

Michaela then shouldered her own weapon – the False Price of Paradise.

“I must find them. But my pride has always been the blade that has repeatedly killed this heart.

I want you to find my true Price of Paradise.”