Chapter 11: Chapter 11: Numa.

Ninka had yet to learn the right way to grieve those she loved. In the storm of emotions threatening to swallow her, she tried to imagine what Lissa would do in her place. Drawing strength from her friend's example, she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Ivan's forehead—a final gesture of farewell.

Then, she forced herself back to the present. There was still someone who needed her. And she could not abandon her mission. She rose to her feet, greeted by a cold breeze winding its way through the trees. Her arms trembled uncontrollably—though she couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the anguish thrumming inside her. Then, the forest's suffocating silence shattered. A sound, subtle, almost imperceptible, echoed between the trunks— A deep rustling, like something shifting beneath the earth itself.

Ninka turned instinctively—just in time to see it unfold. The ground beneath the bodies began to move. Slowly—but with unmistakable intent. Black, gnarled roots slithered up from the damp soil, like serpents awakened by an irresistible scent. They glistened with a viscous moisture, reflecting the pale light that seeped through the treetops.

The first coiled around the ankle of a fallen villager, wrapping in tight, deliberate spirals. Another crept along Ivan's arm, slithering upward, slow and hungry. Ninka staggered back, her pulse hammering, as the roots spread faster—multiplying, growing more ravenous with each passing second. A dry, sickening crack echoed through the forest as one of the roots speared through a corpse's chest, piercing flesh and bone with unnerving ease.

More followed.

They punched through throats, shattered skulls, ripped into abdomens— Until a grotesque web of living wood and thorns had formed, ensnaring the dead in its macabre embrace. Ninka knew what this meant. She watched in horror as the bodies were pressed into the earth, trapped by roots that pulsed like enormous veins, draining whatever remnants of life still lingered in the corpses. The flesh withered, drying and shriveling into wrinkled husks, while the roots thickened and darkened, pulsing with an unnatural, black-green energy—sinister, parasitic.

Damn leech.

Her hands clenched into fists as rage bubbled up inside her.

How dare it defile the bodies of heroes and innocents, feeding on the last drops of their blood?

For the first time, Ninka felt something she had never known before. Wounded pride, emotional and idealistic.

Her father, pragmatic as few men were, had always taught her that pride was useless—dangerous, even. But in this moment, his stoicism gave way to something more raw, more human.

Her fists trembled. Her gaze locked onto the horizon. And she began to walk. Each step carried the weight of fury and sorrow, the two emotions fusing into a single force that drove her forward. After several minutes, the forest finally gave way to the clearing. The moonlight bathed the scene, illuminating every detail.

But to Ninka, only one sight mattered. Valeria was still where she had been left— But not as she had been. The damned roots had done their work here, too. Her body bore the disfigurement of death. Her pale, almost translucent skin had taken on ashen and ghostly hues, shifting with the angle of the light. The veins, once pathways of life, were now hollow shadows. Her eyes, once so full of expression, had turned glassy and lifeless, cold as frost. Her lips, dry and retracted, had lost all trace of color. Her flesh hung limp, entwined in thorned roots, turning her resting place into something grotesque yet eerily sculptural— A twisted blend of the macabre and the beautiful.

Ninka bit her lip hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood. She looked away, unable to bear the sight any longer. She stood frozen, like a statue, as the weight of reality crashed over her. Then— A memory broke through the void consuming her, like a ray of light piercing the darkness.

"In Elisia, all who perish are delivered to the Celestial by fire."

Valeria's voice.

Years ago, she had spoken those words to Ninka—her tone serene, certain. Now, those words echoed through Ninka's mind. She knelt beside her mother's body, feeling the weight of the moment in every fiber of her being. With her right hand, she touched the thickest root, the one holding Valeria captive. With her left, she placed her palm gently over Valeria's still heart, between her breasts—As if seeking one last trace of warmth.

She closed her eyes, summoning the memory of her mother's face, the comfort of her embrace.

"May the Celestial forgive her and lift her high."

And with that prayer, she called forth the flames.

She rose slowly, as if weighed down by the act itself, keeping her eyes shut—as if that could shield her from reality's impact. She tried to prolong the moment, to force acceptance upon herself. But after a few minutes, she gave in. Her eyes opened, and she faced the fire. The flames consumed Valeria with the unfeeling certainty of nature— Swift. Voracious. Indifferent. No different than the wind scattering dead leaves in autumn. Everything she had been—life, memory, meaning—was turning to ash. And yet, the same could not be said for the wooden parasite that had claimed her.

The largest roots, dark and ancient, resisted the heat, their surfaces barely blackening where the flames touched them. As if they mocked the fire, untouched, impenetrable. The thinner roots, however, reacted differently. Fresh and still alive, they jerked away, recoiling back into the earth, like frightened prey retreating from a predator. Ninka clenched her fists. Saganu had been right after all. There was no simple way to rid the world of this infernal parasite. Only courage and risk could lead to any kind of victory.

She let her gaze wander, searching the clearing for anything useful. Then, something caught her eye. The remains of the censer. Shards of broken glass lay scattered across the ground, glittering like fallen stars, while its metal base rested near a tree. Ninka crouched, picked up the metal piece, and turned it between her fingers, deep in thought. It was strange to think that something so small had protected this place for as long as she could remember.

"I have to go, Mother,"

she murmured, her voice low but firm.

"I will finish what you started. I will correct your mistake."

She rose to her feet, eyes locking onto the gaping black maw of the cave. A deep breath filled her lungs with the cold night air, anchoring the decision she could no longer delay. And with no more hesitation, she took the first step into the unknown—

Leaving the ashes and the past behind.

∞∞∞

The cave was a gaping throat of darkness, swallowing Ninka into its oppressive silence. She had never been anywhere like this—a deep corridor, carved by earth and time, where the dense, frigid air weighed heavy on her shoulders. The damp, mineral scent clung to her skin, filling her lungs—a constant reminder that this place belonged to something ancient and inhuman.

Each step echoed, small but resonant, as if the cavern itself was listening. Yet it wasn't the darkness that made her hesitate. No—what truly unsettled her was the light. A pale, blue-green glow spread across the walls and ceiling, shimmering across the uneven ground. Strange reflections danced around her, shifting as if they had a will of their own. The light felt alive, pulsing with an almost imperceptible rhythm—

As if the stone itself was breathing.

Ninka paused, her gaze locked onto the glowing walls. What could cause such an unnatural glow? The thought of something supernatural loomed heavy in her mind. Light seeping from the rock as if it were made of stars?

She swallowed hard and pressed forward, but each step demanded more courage than the last. The ground beneath her was wet and treacherous, and in a single careless moment— She slipped, her knees slamming against the cold stone.

The pain was minimal—but the blow to her resolve was immediate.

She remained there for a few seconds, her knees pressed against the frozen rock, before deciding— If I am to die in this place, let it not be in fear. She rose with purpose, brushed the dirt from her palms, and resumed her march.

The ceiling lights grew sparser, fading one by one until they vanished completely, leaving Ninka drowning in suffocating darkness. She summoned the flames from her gloves, the orange glow illuminating the narrow path ahead. But she didn't need them for long. Up ahead, a silver light emerged—marking the end of the stone corridor.

The cavern opened into a vast dome, and with it, the air changed. Warmer. More alive. The curved, blackened walls swallowed all sound, creating a silence so absolute, so unnatural that it felt like the air itself was holding its breath. And at the center of the cavern stood a dead tree— A monstrous monument to something long forgotten. Its twisted branches stretched in chaotic directions, like deformed hands grasping for the unreachable. Its bark was dark and gnarled, textured like the withered flesh of an ancient beast. And its thick roots slithered across the ground, pulsing faintly—

As if some semblance of life still clung to the corpse of this grotesque thing.

Above, a circular gap in the ceiling let the full moon's light spill down like a silver blade, piercing the center of the cavern. The pale beam cast a glow over the dead tree, stretching its gnarled shadows across the walls, twisting and writhing like specters. Every grotesque detail of its branches was accentuated, making it seem even more sinister beneath the moon's gaze. But that wasn't all.

In the darkest corner of the cavern, half-swallowed by shadows, stood an abandoned cabin— A silent, unsettling relic of the past. Its aged, rotting wood bore the weight of years. The planks were cracked, splintered, and draped in moss, as if the earth itself was slowly reclaiming it. Its half-open door creaked softly, moved by the faint wind drifting through the gap in the ceiling. And from the rafters, strands of cobwebs shimmered, trembling like delicate warnings of its long abandonment.

The thick, gnarled roots sprawled across the ground like petrified serpents, weaving through the skeletal remains and shriveled corpses scattered around the cavern floor. Their skin—stretched, colorless—looked like ancient, forgotten parchment.

But one body stood apart from the rest. At the very heart of this nightmare lay Vasilissa Ivanove, entwined in a prison of twisted roots. Small, cruel thorns pierced her soft skin, embedding deep into her flesh. Her head and shoulders rested against the cursed tree's trunk, while her legs and lower body had been almost entirely swallowed by the earth.

Yet it was her eyes that struck Ninka the most— Milky white. Reflecting the same unnatural emptiness as the villagers-turned-marionettes.

But she was alive!

The sight struck her with such force that words, and breath, vanished at once. There was no time to waste. Her steps quickened, her resolve hardening as she rushed toward her friend. But as she drew closer, a crippling doubt struck her— How was she supposed to free her?

Fire won't work. It's too dangerous.

Cutting, maybe?

Ivan's axe!

She clenched her teeth, frustration burning in her chest.

I'll have to go back.

As she turned to retrace her steps, something tightened around her ankle and snaked up her right leg. Her heart pounded. She knew what it was. Panic spiked through her chest, and she tried to break into a run— But the grip of the root was already too strong to ignore. She fought—but the root dragged her down. Her knees slammed into the earth, cold and wet against her skin.

Another wooden tendril shot toward her left arm. Ninka reacted fast, grabbing it with her free hand while summoning flames. A burst of fire erupted, its heat and light searing through the darkness— And for a brief moment, the roots flinched back. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest. But it was short-lived. As she burned the roots on one side, another coiled around her right arm.

Before she could react, they had tightened their hold, dragging her downward. The roots pulled her closer to Lissa, wrapping tighter and locking her in place. She thrashed with all her strength, but every struggle only seemed to feed the tree. Then came the thorns. They pierced her skin, sinking deep into her veins. A relentless numbness spread through her body.

Her muscles weakened.

Her breath grew heavy.

The sounds around her began to fade. Before her consciousness slipped away, Ninka's gaze locked onto Lissa's ghostly eyes. She tried to call her name, to scream—But no sound came.

In the next instant, the same milky white overtook her own eyes.And then—Darkness.

∞∞∞

When images began to take shape again, everything around her was emptiness—absolute and all-consuming. A void of impenetrable darkness surrounded her, as if the universe itself had been erased.

She didn't move.

Some deep instinct warned her that it wasn't safe.Instead, she tried to understand where she was—feeling the air, or the lack of it, trying to grasp the boundaries of this space.

Was she dead?

Was this what the afterlife looked like? Then—A voice rang out, distant yet commanding, laced with shock and authority.

"Who are you?!"

Ninka's heart tightened, but she kept her voice steady.

"Elinde Ivanove."

A pause. Then—

"That's impossible! My azalea stands beside me!"

"Then let me see her,"

Ninka said, forcing confidence into her words. A sharp, accusatory edge cut through the darkness.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Are you blind? Or is this some cheap deception?"

The darkness unraveled.

The cavern, once oppressive and ominous, shifted before her eyes.

Gone were the twisting roots and shriveled corpses.

Now, the ground was soft, blanketed in lush green moss, vibrant and full of life.

A few roots still emerged here and there, but not as monstrous tendrils—They ran through the earth like gentle veins, tracing a natural map across the landscape. The cabin, once a crumbling ruin, now stood welcoming and whole. Its wooden planks were clean and sturdy, showing signs of recent habitation.Sunlight streamed through the hole in the ceiling, filling the space with a golden, comforting glow. Tiny dust particles danced in the air, like floating stars in a sky made intimate.

And at the center of this sublime scene stood a magnificent tree.

Its trunk, smooth and sturdy, shimmered with golden and amber hues. Its twisting branches bore vibrant pink leaves, releasing a sweet, intoxicating fragrance that filled the air with an overwhelming sense of serenity. Lissa stood before it. She was in the exact spot where Ninka had last seen her—but everything was different now.

Her skin glowed, touched by a healthy blush. Her eyes, once lifeless and milky white, now gleamed with their brilliant violet hue, the same that had always made her impossibly beautiful.

And beside her stood a young man, no older than twenty-something.

A Rájmirian, His cobalt-blue hair, long and slightly tousled, draped over his back. His features were sharp, with a narrow jawline and severe expressions—yet, there was something about him that would have been undeniably striking to most eyes.

He watched Ninka, his gaze a mix of uncertainty and intensity.

"I will ask again. Who are you?"

His voice was heavy with distrust.

Ninka met his stare without hesitation.

"Then I will answer again. I am Elinde Ivanove. And you are my beloved, Numa."

His eyes widened, shock written all over his face.

"How do you know me?"

"How could I not?"

Ninka pressed.

"Have you forgotten me? What happened to your love?"

A pained expression crossed the young man's face as he turned to Lissa, searching for reassurance.

But she could not meet his eyes.

"My azalea, tell her! Tell her who you are!"

he pleaded.

"Numa... I... I was trying to tell you..."

Lissa murmured, her voice frail, hesitant.

"Don't worry, Lissa. Just tell him,"

Ninka cut in, her voice steady and firm.

"Ninka...?"

Lissa whispered, as if the name was too heavy to say aloud.

Numa's frustration flared, his voice rising.

"Who is Lissa? Who is Ninka? Who are you talking about?!"

Ninka stepped forward, eyes locked onto his.

"I am Elinde,"

she said, voice unyielding.

"Look at me."

Numa narrowed his eyes, staring at her as if trying to peer into her very soul.

But after a few moments, he shook his head slowly, disbelief clouding his features.

"You are not her. That... is not her gaze."

Ninka took a deep breath, keeping her composure.

"Then look into her eyes the same way,"

she said, gesturing toward Lissa.

"And tell me she is Elinde Ivanove."

Numa turned to Lissa, hesitating for a moment before locking onto her with the same piercing intensity.

At first, Lissa looked away—

But eventually, she relented, allowing their eyes to meet. The longer they held the stare, the more Numa's expression changed.

Sadness.

Frustration.

Slowly, they overtook his face. When he finally broke away, he looked defeated.He sat down, leaning against the tree trunk, his head lowered.

"Who are you?"

he asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

"We are your friends. We came to warn you."

Ninka's voice was steady, but there was urgency beneath it.

"Warn me? My friends?"

Numa let out a small, bitter laugh.

"And what, exactly, are you here to warn me about?"

"That you have been deceived."

Ninka lifted her gaze toward the cavern's ceiling.

"Deceived?

He scoffed.

"Yes, that does sound like the right word.

And who, aside from you two, has been lying to me?"

"Her."

Ninka raised her arm, pointing upward.

Far above them, merged with the cavern's ceiling, the creature waited.

Her long, segmented body twisted and coiled silently along the stone formations, slithering with unnatural grace. Like a centipede. It was as if the ceiling itself pulsed with life. Each segment was covered in a texture resembling ancient wood, its surface gray and weathered, speckled with moss— As though she had been part of this cavern for centuries, a parasite disguised as the earth itself.

But her true grotesqueness lay in her limbs.

Or rather— Her arms.

There were so many of them—pale limbs sprouting like the roots of a blighted tree, writhing and grasping at the rock with a terrible grace. Each hand moved on its own, fingers twitching, clenching, dragging her weight upward in slow, dreadful rhythm.

It was as if some cruel god had set a corpse to dance.

Above the clutching limbs, a torso rose—a woman's form twisted by time and rot. Her skin was grey and coarse, scaled like the hide of a lizard left too long in the sun. Cracks split the surface, and within the wounds grew patches of pale moss and tiny, bone-colored fungi, pulsing softly as if they breathed.

Where her breasts should have been, there was only a hollow cavity, long and narrow, a place where once a heart might have beat. Her head was bare, save for the splinters of wood that jutted from her scalp like brittle antlers, dry and colorless save for a faint blush of dead pink leaves that clung to them still—souvenirs from some long-dead autumn.

Her eyes were sewn shut, stitched together with thick, coarse threads, pulling the lids tightly closed— Leaving only two hollow caverns of darkness where sight should have been. But at the center of her forehead, a single violet eye gleamed— Alive. Piercing. Impossibly clear. Like a flawless gemstone, too perfect to be real.

That eye did not simply look— It evaluated. It held a serene cruelty, a gaze so unwavering that it became impossible to turn away. Ninka knew that eye. She had seen it in her dreams. It was both beautiful and terrifying— A beauty that filled the heart with unease.

The monstrosity made no sound. Its presence was betrayed only by a primal instinct, a deep-seated sense of danger that sent Ninka's heart pounding in her chest. Even in silence, it felt as though the creature was studying them, waiting— A predator biding its time.

A judge holding back a verdict.

The sunbeams filtering through the ceiling's opening cast shifting patterns of light and shadow, making it seem as though the entire cavern conspired to hide her existence—until the perfect moment.

Then Lissa saw her.

Her scream It came ragged and raw, like a wounded animal cornered in the dark. The sound bounced off the stone like a thrown blade, sharp and shattering. Without thought, she flung herself toward Numa. Her fingers clawed at his cloak, seeking warmth, safety—something solid to hold against the horror.

For a breath, he froze. She could feel the tension in him, as if his body warred with itself, unsure whether to shield her or cast her off. But after a heartbeat—two, no more—he relented. His arms closed around her, slow and uncertain, but firm.

She felt the weight of them like armor. Yet even as he held her, his eyes remained fixed on the thing that had made her scream.

"I am not the one who seeks to deceive you."

The creature spoke.

Her voice was soft, whispered, yet vast as the void— A soundless weight pressing down on them. Her enormous violet eye lowered closer, looming just above them, invading their space.

"What in the name of the Celestial are you?! What do you want from me?!"

Numa's voice broke with disbelief and fear.

"I am your salvation. And I desire only your happiness."

"That is a lie."

Ninka's words were steady, sharp.

"You bring no happiness. Only death."

A pause.

Then, the creature responded with unsettling calm.

"And what do you know of happiness?"

"You, who have known so few moments of true joy?"

Ninka's eyes narrowed, suspicion twisting in her gut.

But she did not back away.

"Yes, I have felt it in your blood."

The creature's single eye bore into her, as though peeling away her layers, unraveling her very being.

"That is why you cling so desperately to your noble, reckless friend, isn't it?"

"She drinks deeply from life, devouring every emotion as though it were her birthright."

"And you—"

"You pave the road ahead for her, ensuring she never stumbles."

"All so that, perhaps, just perhaps—"

"A fraction of her light will fill the emptiness inside you."

"And who are you to speak of stealing from others, parasite?!"

Ninka shot back, lifting her chin defiantly.

"It is natural—right—for friends to share emotions, to support one another.

Nothing could be more logical and just."

"Natural... logical... just..."

The creature repeated each word, pausing between them, as if tasting their meaning and finding them hollow. Her voice drifted further from anything resembling emotion.

"Such a rational little girl. So mature for her age."

"But I wonder—"

"Is this your true self?"

"Or merely another mask you wear, to honor the lessons of your father?"

"Wouldn't you like to be free? To feel, without restraint?"

"There is no freedom in being a slave to your emotions,"

Ninka countered, her voice steady.

"Yes, my father taught me that. But it was watching people like my mother that made me understand why he was right."

"Enough of this pathetic manipulation, monster!"

Numa's voice cut through the cavern, deep and commanding.

"It's clear to me who the true deceiver is here."

His gaze hardened, his stance unwavering.

"So I'll ask again—

What do you want?"

"Then, once more, I will answer."

The creature's enormous violet eye shifted, fixing on him, its gaze like a plunging knife.

"I want only your happiness."

"Then let me tell you what would bring me happiness right now—"

Numa's voice turned sharp, venomous.

"You leaving this cavern and never tormenting us with your disgusting presence again."

"You do not understand what you ask."

The creature's tone remained calm, patient, as if speaking to a child who refused to listen.

"There is nothing beyond this cavern. This is where you and I exist."

"That's ridiculous!"

Numa let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Just yesterday, I was outside, in the forest, with my azalea—"

His voice faltered.

And then— His arms dropped from around Lissa.

Instinctively.

"False. You have been here all along.

I merely allowed you to see what would bring you happiness. As I said—

That is my only desire."

"And why in the hell do you believe this prison of lies is what will make anyone happy?!"

Ninka's anger flared, her voice sharp with frustration.

"Because we share the same heart."

The creature's voice was serene, absolute.

"I know every facet of your desires and emotions."

"Nonsense!"

Numa's shout erupted, frustration spilling over.

"We share nothing!"

"That is the truth, and it always has been."

The creature's mass of limbs shifted, the cavern trembling with her presence.

"I awoke in response to your suffering. My purpose is to save you from a bitter and unjust fate. Here, under my protection, death holds no power over you."

"She's telling the truth."

Ninka's voice cut through the air like a blade.

"It has been forty years since you were stabbed beneath this cursed tree—

by order of Lord Janko Ivanove."

"Lies!"

Numa's cry rang out, raw with anguish.

He tore himself away from Lissa, releasing her entirely, and stormed toward the cabin at the cavern's edge. There, he halted at the doorway, one hand braced against the frame— His gaze lost inside the room, caught between nostalgia and despair.

Lissa hesitated, then took a timid step forward, as if drawn by an impulse to comfort him. But before she could go any further, Ninka caught her wrist. She didn't speak— She only shook her head. A silent warning. Lissa's reluctance was clear, but at last, she gave in, sorrow heavy in her violet eyes.

Above them, the creature moved, its grotesque limbs shifting across the cavern ceiling, reconfiguring itself. Its upper body—twisted yet unmistakably feminine—lowered, leaning toward Numa with that unnerving, depthless gaze. As if she could see straight into his thoughts.

"Uncover your chest."

Her whisper carried an almost hypnotic weight.

"Feel for your heart."

"You will remember the pain—"

"And how I took it away."

"Then you will know—"

"I have spoken only the truth."

Numa's hesitation lasted only seconds. Then— Disgust. Sorrow. And finally— A rising fury twisted his features. With a sudden, violent motion, he tore his tunic open, baring his naked chest. Where his heart should have been, there was only a hollow cavity. A gaping wound. A void. The monstrosity gestured to its own torso— Revealing a matching wound, identical in shape and size.

A macabre reflection.

Then— The pain came rushing back. The cold steel sinking into his flesh. The air vanishing from his lungs. The desperate, suffocating agony of his final breath. Now, he remembered. His death had been swift, but the hatred and love he carried had not perished with him. They had crawled through his veins, seeped into the roots of that ancient tree. The memories were fractured, scattered like shards of glass— But he knew. Lives had been taken. Blood had been spilled. And that sacrifice had sustained both his own twisted existence— And hers.

Yet, the faces of the dead remained hazy, lost in the fog of his mind. Still, the guilt burned hot— A slow, smoldering fire deep within his spirit.

"You do not have to bear this burden."

The creature's voice was honeyed, poisonous.

"You do not need these painful memories."

"Say the word— And I will cleanse your mind, your soul, of these sorrows."

"Ask— And I will make either of these women before you become Elinde."

"Your azalea— As you knew her. As you loved her."

"I will turn this cabin into a home filled with passion and life."

"A paradise, just for you."

"And at what cost, parasite?!"

Ninka's rage erupted, her voice shaking with fury.

"At the price of our lives?!

How many more will you take?!"

Numa cast one last glance toward the interior of the cabin. Nostalgia weighed on him, a chain around his soul, pulling him back.

Finally— He turned to face his companions, his gaze locking onto Lissa.

"My azalea..."

Numa sighed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Elinde... is she still alive?"

"Yes, she is."

Lissa's voice wavered, but she forced herself to continue.

"She lives in Velcarnia."

"She must be around sixty by now,"

Ninka added.

Numa nodded slowly, processing the words.

"I see."

"I'm sure she has kept you in her memory all her life,"

Lissa said, her voice trembling.

"I know I would never forget you."

"Thank you."

He touched the hollow in his chest, as if trying to find answers in the emptiness. A few moments passed before he spoke again.

"Tell me... do you believe in the Celestial?" "In life after death?"

Ninka met his gaze.

"You've already died once, yet here you are—sustained by the grace of this creature."

"Why wouldn't you continue to exist by the grace of something greater?"

"That makes sense."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Numa's lips—almost imperceptible, but real.

"The creature was right about one thing.

You are the most rational lass I have ever met."

"I'm sure the Celestial awaits you with open arms,"

Lissa said, tears slipping down her cheeks.

"And one day, you will see your Elinde again."

"That is my hope."

Numa's gaze softened, filled with a strange serenity.

"Forgive me for all the pain I have caused."

"It wasn't your fault,"

Ninka replied firmly.

Lissa wiped her tears, but she understood. She knew him well enough to accept—however painfully—that this was the best choice for everyone.

Numa stepped toward her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Lissa covered his hand with hers, a silent exchange of comfort.

"If you ever find my azalea, please tell her..."

"Tell her I will wait for her in the Celestial's embrace—

For as long as it takes."

Then— He turned away, walking toward the iconic tree, settling beneath its twisted shadow.

"Creature."

The monster stirred, shifting closer, its movements slow and deliberate.

"You claim to know my desires.

That your only purpose is to fulfill them.

To bring me happiness."

"Yes,"

it replied, watching him intently.

"That is my sole wish."

Numa took a breath.

"Then tell me—"

"What is my greatest desire at this very moment?"

The creature froze.

For what felt like an eternity, it did not move.

Its unblinking eye, devoid of all emotion, simply stared. And then—

"I understand."

And the world began to dissolve.

First, the colors faded, bleeding into shades of gray. Then, the shapes distorted, like a crumbling dream. A bitter cold seeped into the girls' skin as they clutched hands— While the void consumed everything. The world of lies had finally come to an end.

When Ninka opened her eyes again, she found Lissa already awake. But her skin was paler than ever— Almost translucent. The roots that had bound her had withered, their life drained away— Yet they still clung tightly to her body. Just as they did to Ninka.

She tried to move, but— The weakness was crushing. Too much blood had been taken. She considered using the magic of her gloves— But then froze. The roots were brittle now, dry as dead wood. If they caught fire, they would burn them both alive. Then—

"Ninka..."

Lissa's voice broke the silence, so fragile it seemed ready to shatter.

"Lissa, save your strength!"

Ninka's desperation spilled into every word.

"You've lost more blood than I have. I swear, I'll get us out of here!"

"Ninka..."

"What is it, Lissa?"

A pause.

A trembling whisper.

"Thank you."

Ninka's throat tightened.

"For what?"

She already knew the answer.

"For being my friend."

Those words pierced through Ninka like blades. A terror took hold of her, and she thrashed against the roots with a strength her broken body no longer had.

Each motion carved new furrows into her flesh, as if the very air had teeth. Blood welled up in slow, stubborn rivers, but still she fought—clumsy, desperate. Her hands groped through the dark as though will alone could pull Lissa back from whatever lay beyond that black edge.

Then, at last, her arms came free, torn from whatever had bound them.

Bone ached, muscle screamed—but freedom came too late. In that instant, the world shifted. Something inside Ninka broke—not with a scream, but a silence so profound it seemed to swallow all other sound.

The walls she had built within herself, stone by stone, over years of grief and necessity fell. The cold logic she had worn like armor, the quiet endurance passed down—all of it in a single, unrelenting tide of sorrow.

Her reason.

Her stoicism.

Memories of her losses surged through her mind like relentless ghosts. Every face. Every smile, now gone. Every painful goodbye. She screamed. She wept. Like the young girl she truly was— With no logic, no restraint, no shame.

The sound of her sorrow filled the emptiness around her— As if the entire universe mourned with her.

She cried until her tears ran dry.

Until there was nothing left inside her.

Until she was empty.

Vasilissa Ivanove.

Lissa.

Gentle, beautiful Lissa.

She had left this world.

And with her departure—

Everything felt colder, duller—

But—

The warmth and color she had left in Ninka's heart—

Would never fade.