Bellavarn took some time to himself. The festivities were still ongoing, but he needed to step away. From his friends. From his parents. Just to take a moment to free his head and relax.
This part of town was all hills and inclines. Developed but not convenient for a party. Trudging up the cobblestone path illuminated by infrequent magical streetlights, he passed by couples looking to find some alone time. Distracting, he ignored most of it and continued up.
And up.
=
"Are you alright taking them both home?"
"Yeah, I called for backup. It's not like I can carry either of them."
Anne gestured to the two drunk dukes.
Some date it had been. They were too busy competing with each other to give either of them any time.
"Will you be fine wandering about? Shouldn't you call for a bodyguard?"
Lecil waved a hand, giving some offhand excuse. Anne didn't seem to mind too much, but the fact that she asked in the first place showed their improving relationship.
The night hadn't been all that exciting. She got more reasons as to why the Dukes were terrible options. Astor turned out to be an egomaniac of the same caliber as Raiden. The night's one highlight was about a half-hour ago when Astor was still semi-lucid. Before the second drinking contest.
A strange man met up with Astor, whispered a few words, and handed him an object. Astor then excused himself and approached Lecil. His words were benign flattery that was actually roundabout back-patting concerning his business sense. The point in the conversation that stuck was when he offered her a gift. He claimed it was the first design of his newest product, which he would be revealing to the public post-haste.
It was a fidget spinner.
Purple. Bulky and not made of plastic, it was unlike what she'd seen back on earth. It lit up and spun using magic. The purple paint made the blue mana glow turn a lumiscent violet. The spin was slow and hypnotic, and there appeared to be a limiter on how fast it would go.
All in all. It was a fitting gift. Astor probably had no idea of its significance, thinking only of surface qualities like how the color matched Lecil's eyes...
Walking away from the group now, she twirled the object in her hand. Absently, she moved away from the crowd and up a hill. She didn't know why her feet carried her upwards, but she continued her climb in unconscious musing.
The festival was winding down. Shops were closing. Food was sold out. Games packed away. Children finally coming off sugar highs and put to bed. It was so eerily reminiscent of a festival back on earth that Celia forgot the woes of her transmigration and reincarnation. The scenery felt... normal. Even the caged street lamps powered by long-lasting spell formations glowed the same way as fluorescent lightbulbs back on earth.
Cresting the peak of the hill, she came to a cobbled bridge. It sat perfectly over a small stream that flowed down through town, past the thoroughfares, out into the farmland, and further still. Stopping, Lecil leaned on the stone railing, gazing out at her world. This is where she would spend the rest of her life and just as likely fade away. And that was alright. She didn't need to be remembered. Just left in peace.
They would both be happy to be left alone. To live a boring and uneventful life.
But the world has other plans.
=
The son of a duke and a princess stared out at the sprawling scenery.
Lost.
=
All was right. Warmth enveloped Lannie.
A comforting bath.
"Jeral?"
A name.
She called out again.
"Jeral?"
Her brother.
"Yes. Lannie?"
Silence.
Nothing.
"Lannie?"
Her eyes reopened.
"...I'm here. Lannie."
The bath turned cold.
Sticky.
"I love you, Jeral."
...
"Jeral?"
A beat.
"I love you too, sis."
It was cold now.
Frigid.
Scary.
"Jeral?"
No response.
...
"Jeral."
A whisper.
Darkness.
"...Jeral."
...
..
.