Chereads / Tenth author's journal 2A: Mikhail / Chapter 70 - Ending A.2_Metathesiophobia

Chapter 70 - Ending A.2_Metathesiophobia

--Sideview Mirror--

The bustling halls are filled with people as civil affairs tend to the citizens' needs. I must keep a low profile, not wanting to disrupt the normal course of the day. However, a haze clouds my mind, perhaps the remnants of the heartache from earlier. As I enter the main meeting room, the ache eases slightly.

Kryos notices the change in my demeanor and pauses, observing my transformation. He has matured, exuding charisma. I take comfort in knowing that Eugen is with the children, sparing him at the sight of my pitiful state.

"Please continue, Kryos. I'm just a bit fatigued," I say, taking a seat.

"No, today, the spotlight is on you. You must look your best," Kryos insists, embracing me with genuine concern. Yet, I doubt I can make it through the day without revealing my true appearance.

"I'll do my best to maintain the image," I stumble over my words, trying to lead him toward my confession. The feverish sensation grips me, and I must endure it until the speech concludes.

"You seem to be running a fever. Are you truly all right?" Kryos asks, his hand on my forehead, a hint of worry in his eyes. How charmingly naive. If only he knew the truth, his words would haunt him.

"I'm fine, but I've been working diligently. The kingdom is bustling as the anniversary approaches. Has your work become more dangerous?" I ask, trying to shift the conversation.

"I've always been discreet. No one knows I've been out on the streets searching for you. Are you worried about me, partner? You shouldn't be so generous, even with your partner," Kryos teases, but the words sting today.

"Partner or not, you're not only my partner but also their parent. I can't let them run amok seeking vengeance for your unfortunate demise," I respond, the sentence catching in my throat, a shattered visage of misery. If only I'd held out a little longer, could it have been undone? Lingering memories of past redemption ache.

"Fatigue has caught up with me. But I think I need a short nap before the afternoon speech. We can celebrate our partnership afterward," I whisper wearily, my voice laden with vain wishes. I must maintain control over my consciousness to withstand the curse of influence.

"Rest, I'm familiar with your workaholic tendencies. Even Gabriel, who managed during our previous collaboration, found your work substantial and rushed. It's as if you're afraid something will go wrong if you pause for a moment," Kryos remarks, filling the teacup with care.

His words ring true, and I'm on the brink. Any more pushing and this image will shatter. Perhaps, I've overthought this; my fear that my form will never be the same again has consumed me.

"Each of us has a role to play. Now, may I ask you something to pass the time? My restless eyes refuse to rest, even in moments of respite," I say, eager to change the subject and desperate for distraction.

"As long as it doesn't lead us down a distressing path. You can ask me anything. I prefer to have my mind stimulated. Being cooped up in this castle feels like a sentence of death to me. The day of your coronation marked the end of Prince Kryos Asmodeus," Kryos says, reflecting his bitterness towards the life he leads, a life I thrust upon him.

"I won't broach such unpleasant subjects. I only want to know... what image of me remains in your memory," I ask, the question hanging in the air. My heart aches, my hatred for the monster I will become battling with the cold, while the burning mana threatens to consume me.

"Your mana is escaping. Are you truly well? Should I fetch someone to help you with your condition?" Kryos' concern is genuine, breaking me out of my trance.

"Don't leave me alone at this moment. I just need an answer, nothing grand or poetic. Just your unfiltered impression. This is my request, Kryos, please heed it," I implore him while desperately controlling my brewing, harmful mana.

"Mikhail, you are my partner, the light of my shadow. Even when your savior complex gets the best of you, I've always appreciated your overbearing self," Kryos responds. The reassurance helps me regain some composure.

Gabriel suddenly appears at the door, melting away the tension with his flame magic. It's been so long, and he has matured into his role. No longer the immortal warrior haunted by countless wars, the peace has tempered him, and he sports a bushy beard. In contrast, I now resemble a sage, my appearance much changed, despite Gabriel's disinterest in delving into the matter.

"Would it be a white lie if no one is hurting? Can you assure the truth would be so pleasing that no one would take to heart what omen it brings?" I inquire, with a touch of melancholy. Gabriel, however, remains stern, disapproving of my evasiveness.

"You've become quite the convincing actor over the years, hiding the true meaning of God's gift. That horn on your head, it's a divine curse, isn't it?" Gabriel keenly observes with little to go on. I've underestimated my younger brother, a mistake I won't make again.

"Then you've been a demon all this time, but never told me? I shall call you my little demon from now on," Kryos jests, his optimism shining even in these trying times.

"Kryos, I'm still a homunculus. I've never been an angel or a demon. God cursed me, causing me to appear forever young while shattering my image," I explain, and our light-hearted exchange lightens the oppressive atmosphere.

"Would you show me your split image, Mikhail? I won't be unnerved; I haven't changed myself," Gabriel asks.

I transform into the image of my old self, marked by scars, a twisted horn, dull white hair, and gray wings. The change feels strange, but Gabriel's acceptance is reassuring. Kryos also takes it in stride.

"It's quite unique, but does it change who you are?" Gabriel comments nonchalantly. This revelation doesn't seem to faze him, which is not the response I anticipated.

Kryos, on the other hand, looks charmed, raising questions about his strange affinity for this form.

Both of them finally reach an agreement, and Kryos suggests a ceremonial funeral for my old self, symbolizing the transition from the past to the future.

"Then how about this, we set up a ceremonial thing to signify his transition. A funeral, for his old self," Kryos proposes, which I find fitting.

"He has some sense of reality this time, brother. A departure from your old self could bring the change you've sought to cure this curse," Gabriel concurs. They seem to have reached a compromise.

Feeling a sense of relief that has eluded me for centuries, I decide to proceed with the plan. It's a chance to embrace my newfound freedom and bid farewell to the old. The morning has always been a time of choice, and this decision is no different.

"I will proceed with it on my terms. In the meantime, please enjoy the festivities that Saudade has to offer," I announce as I retire to my room, leaving the preparations for Gabriel and the rest in Kryos's capable hands.

I can't help but feel a little guilty about their concern, as they urge me to rest and grow accustomed to this new form. However, a moment of preparation and relaxation is a true blessing.

Uriel and Ragnorr stop by, excusing themselves as leaders of the elves. They share stories and records of the elves' progress over the past centuries. The death of Lambert has left the elves vulnerable, but they've made discoveries in other areas, such as a fusion of alchemy and new magical artifacts known as thaumaturgy.

Dusk approaches, and it's finally time to move forward with this transformation, marking the end of an era and the beginning of something new.

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