I didn't register the pain until the blade twisted. Didn't realize it was poisoned until my legs stopped listening. Didn't understand I was dying until the world tilted sideways and I found myself on my side against the cold and splintered wooden floors. Balance, gone like someone pulled the floor from under me.
I heard Iliam call out my name, grunting as the attacker rushed into him, crashing his poison-tipped sword against Iliam's very own blade and pushing him against the old, stubborn walls.
"SORA!"
My vision began to blur. The attacker's silhouette stood above me, but was hazy.
Iliam called out again, "SORA, GET UP!"
But I couldn't, I felt numb... cold, that same sensation that I felt three days ago when I got perforated by the very same woman. The woman who stood above me. The woman whose face and figure I couldn't quite see, but by this point, I was convinced. I knew who it was.
Damn you, Ariana!
The poison moved fast. Blood pooled around the corner of my irises, my pupils dilated against my own will, and I couldn't even clench my very own fist.
I remained sprawled on my side, knees half-bent with one arm trapped awkwardly under my torso. My other hand stretched out limply across the wooden boards, palm open as I tried grasping my sword barely a meter away from me... but I couldn't, my hand didn't obey.
The fabric of my white cape rippled gently with every tremor as it painted a mural around my almost lifeless body.
I felt... heard my heartbeat slowly fade away as the wound in my chest continued to bleed.
"SORA!"
That's when I realized it. I never survived after the ceremony. I actually died, didn't I? I wonder if my Divine ability would save me again.
My body felt heavy, and my thoughts began to flicker.
After Sis told me that Iliam was waiting for me at the door, I pushed myself off the kitchen counter—still starving without breakfast. I opened the door, and indeed I found him standing rigidly, studying me.
He let out a sigh of relief, then asked,
"How're you feeling?"
Before I could answer, he added,
"I heard about what happened... the assassination attempt after our duel. And your newly discovered Divine ability, and uhh—engagement, and a few other things, I imagine the shock of it all must be hard."
"Iliam. I'm Sora De Astra Knight, heir to Vangardia. I'm the best there is, so with all obviousness, I'm feeling rather fine, thanks."
Thinking back now, I replied with a rather prideful air to my tone, honestly. Maybe Ari was right... I am quite arrogant, aren't I?
Is that why you wanted to kill me so bad, Ari? Is that it?
"Right. Anyway, you and I have been personally requested to track down and gather intel on an illegal weapons deal tonight. I just wanted to let you know to meet me at the ceremony hall this evening so we can make our way to the location."
Iliam informed, I didn't reply at the time. I just yawned without a care in the world, then nodded affirmatively before lazily slamming the door shut. I remember thinking to myself: If I'm off till tonight, I think I'd rather sleep.
Sleep. I was told to protect our very country from thugs, nothing special really, just mere thugs playing around and selling weapons they shouldn't be selling. And even then, sleep was what I thought of first. Imagine if it were something bigger than a simple weapons deal? Would I have even cared?
I'm disgusting, lazy, dishonorable, useless, arrogant, and disrespectful.
I met with Iliam later that evening, and we made our way to the very far south of the Capital. It was meant to be a regular stakeout outside some ruined old abandoned... hut, if you can even call it that. It was practically breaking down.
We were ordered to wait and gather information. That is it.
My prideful self didn't wait, and the moment the thugs showed themselves, I arrogantly shoved Iliam aside and ruined the whole operation. I intended to arrest them myself and end this whole charade before it even started.
Recon? I remember thinking, even scoffing at the idea of gathering intel when they were right there, ripe and ready to be arrested and dealt with.
However, I very quickly realized that one of these so-called thugs, despite being covered from head to toe in all white. The arcane I sensed was similar to that of my assassins, similar to that of... Ariana's.
And it infuriated me, I charged headfirst and was hit directly in the shoulder with a Fulgur Percutiens, the lightning strike spell. However, it was incantationless, further proving my doubts.
I was disarmed, and my sword hit the wooden planks, and before I could react, I was stabbed squarely by her colleague, his blade tipped with poison.
I dropped immediately, sprawled to my side as I watched the man charge towards Iliam. Sprawled to my side as I watched the hazy silhouette of my fiancée, over my very own body, watching me slowly fade away.
I'm sorry, Iliam. You really are better than me.
But then again, just like last time. I found myself in another place...
The fire greeted me first—the heat, the crackling, the blinding orange swallowing the night sky above Vangardia's capital. Screams tore down the streets like wild beasts, buildings split under collapsing beams, and smoke poured upward in choking plumes.
Ariana Aredhel herself. It's the same dream all over again. I sank, my knees hitting the cold, soot-covered cobble with her lifeless body, cold in my hands, her crimson eyes looking up at me, her brown hair drenched in her own blood, blood that pooled onto my own two hands, slithering between my fingers. For some reason, I did it again—I caressed her cheek, tears dripping from my eyes as my thumb brushed over that beauty mark beneath her left eye. I did it again. Why did I do it again? Why am I seeing this, this dream... again?
Did I even really die?
Or was this a trick from the poison?
I forced my eyes open, and I was in the same spot—back in the old hut's floor, looking up at Ariana, who wasn't looking at me anymore; instead, her eyes were focused on the scrimmage between the man and Iliam. Around us were even more thugs, but they didn't involve themselves; they only cheered and yelled out.
I tried to push myself up, my arms trembled, my chest tightened, my head grew heavy. But then my consciousness slipped again, and the dream replayed.
Crimson eyes void of life, a maroon robe that slipped below her shoulders, exposing her cold... cold skin, fair as winter, brown hair stuck to her cheeks with her own blood. And again—I caressed her cheek.
Stop. Stop. Stop. Why're you showing me this?
My eyes opened again. Iliam was still battling the young man, and Ariana was nowhere to be seen.
I tried. I really tried to push myself up, but I felt the poison still circling through my body, keeping me trapped.
"SORA!"
Sorry, Iliam. I can't... I can't really help right now.
"DAMN YOU SORA!"
I saw it again. The dream.
This time the flames were louder, closer. My clothes smoked as embers drifted across my skin. Ariana's head lolled against my chest at a new angle, and I heard something I hadn't before. I heard her faint, broken gasp. Her final breath.
One more time. Two more times.
Three more times. Ten.
Fifty.
Sixty.
Ninety.
I began to lose count, but I was sure I broke the hundred; the dream would constantly replay, over and over. I started to lose count, and I started to uncontrollably cry in the real world.
"Stop, I can't take it anymore!" I cried out, wailing and clutching my knees while I swayed from side to side on the floor.
The poison began to slow down, and to an extent, I was able to talk and move again, but it wasn't enough. I kept seeing that stupid dream again and again before waking up to see Iliam still battling.
Each loop stretched longer, details sharpening cruelly. Her eyelashes were stuck together with tears and blood.
Her lips trembled faintly before falling still. The city burned around us, silhouettes of fleeing people running past, stepping around me like I wasn't even there—like kneeling there with her in my arms was... was normal.
It felt like hours with each loop of the dream, but to the outside world, it was barely a few seconds.
My stomach twisted, my throat burned, and I gasped for air that wasn't smoke-filled.
Two hundred. Three hundred. Five. Six
The dream wouldn't stop appearing. Each time I recognized a new detail, the way her fingers were coiled tightly around my right hand, going slack as life left her. The way the screams rang in my ear in that gut-wrenching way.
They weren't background noises anymore. Knives stabbing deep into my ears, desperate and terrified—that's what the screams felt like.
I hated it. I hated every loop.
Now, I felt the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, and I heard my own, raw scream reverberate in my very own ears.
I felt the weight of her head sinking, heavier into my chest with each time life left her.
Ariana.
Ariana please.
Ariana, please stop dying.
"STOP DYING! I'M BEGGING YOU!"
The words ripped out of me, desperate.
"Hey, Sora, pull yourself together," Iliam said, strained and shaky as he slowly patted my shoulder. I looked past him, and the man he had fought lay lifeless on the floor. Everyone who was around now vanished.
But then the dream started again.
Stop, please!!!! It's too much!!!
I don't know how long I spent on the floor after that. Seconds? Hours? It all smeared together into a sickening, colorless blend. All I knew... all I felt. Was the sound of my very own heartbeat smashing against my very own skull as the world kept ripping itself apart and restitching around me.
By this point, I counted over a thousand loops as the dream surged back. I counted, I tried to at least. I had to. It was the only way I could keep my sanity. Barely. But I was slipping. I felt it. I couldn't take it anymore.
Ariana, please. I'm sorry I failed you, don't... don't... stop—please...
Again.
Again.
AGAIN.
AGAIN.
Over and over.
Nonstop. Each time I'd open my eyes, I'd either find myself in Iliam's arms, sobbing hysterically. Or in that wretched place, with my knees cold against the cobblestone and Ariana's limp body in my arms. Her weight sagged against me like she had been sculpted from cold marble. Her hair, clumped with dried blood, slid down my forearm as I tried to cradle her closer. My voice cracked, begging her, pleading with her, bargaining like a fool who still believed the world had mercy.
Slowly... my mindset changed, and I was no longer cradling my assassin or forced fiancée. I understood.
I finally understood... This isn't a dream; this was Fate, Fate's cruel joke, Fate's cruel game. Fate. Fate. Fate. Fate. In my arms... was my world, the world that Fate wanted to take from me. She wasn't my assassin. Never was. The woman I saw wasn't her. The woman who killed me the first time at the ceremony wasn't her. I was sure of it now. How was I so sure?
This wasn't my subconscious giving me answers; this was my mind trying to keep up with Fate's message. This was the future.
I felt it the very first time with that hole through my abdomen. I really did, but I ignored it, for it was just a dream. But a dream it no longer was, for no dream would leave me agonizing this way. For no dream would ever treat me this way.
No nightmare would ever do this to me.
Curse you, Fate.
By the three-thousandth loop, the flames burned hotter, the screams were sharper, and Ariana's blood spilled thicker, coating my palms and scalding down to the bones.
Reality snapped again, and I didn't even know whether I was breathing anymore. I sobbed, I drooled.
Die. Die. Die. I wanted to die so bad.
Kill me. Kill me. Kill me.
"Iliam, kill me," I begged.
I begged, and I begged, and I begged. I was a Prince, not a beggar. But a beggar I was. Kill me, Iliam, please.
"Wha—"
Before I could hear his response... the dream surged again.
Her fingers twitched against my grip, and I clung, I clung to that twitch with hope so violent it hurt... only for her to leave me again. Her head lolled back. Her eyes dulled. The blood on my hands cooled into a sticky, suffocating glue.
Reality again. I vomited blood. I wasn't even sure if it was mine.
Iliam's voice sounded miles underwater.
"Sora? Sora, hey—HEY!"
But I barely heard him. Every breath was a scream locked behind my teeth.
I tried to claw at the floor, to anchor myself, to rip myself away from the next loop... yet still, it swallowed me.
I couldn't cry anymore. My tears were gone. My throat was cracked, stripped raw from screaming in two worlds. Her body felt different this time, her eyes—no longer blank but accusatory. As if she knew I failed her.
As if this infinite parade of her death was my very own punishment.
"Ariana… please… please stop making me watch you die…"
My voice sounded foreign to me. Small. Broken.
Reality flickered.
I clutched my hair, nails digging into my scalp. My breathing went shallow and fast—too fast—my body jittering like it had forgotten how to exist.
"STOP IT! STOP SHOWING ME! LET ME OUT—LET ME OUT—LET ME OUT!"
Iliam grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, shouting something I couldn't catch.
But it didn't matter.
The world dissolved again.
Nothing mattered anymore.
By the five-thousandth loop, I couldn't care anymore. I've endured enough.
The loops continued, but the number stopped going up.
I stopped counting after five thousand six hundred and forty-three. (5,643)
I stopped counting; enough is enough.
I kept watching her die, each time my tears fell onto her lips. Each time...
I kept watching her die, but I stopped reacting, I closed it off, I closed it all off.
...And I stopped counting.