[O]utside, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, indicating that a considerable amount of time had passed since they'd returned to the younger Ionia's bedroom.
Perched comfortably on the edge of the balcony, the older Ionia gazed down at the world below.
Her attention was soon drawn to a pair of gardeners returning with baskets brimming with uprooted plants. Upon closer inspection, Ionia realized these were berry trees, undoubtedly removed under the marquis's orders.
"What are you thinking of so deeply? You'll get wrinkles." Sol's familiar voice cut through the silence, forcing her out of her trance. His gentle fingers stroked the crease on her forehead as he spoke, and she instinctively turned her head to face him.
"I can't believe I was this naive when I was 12..."
Sol offered a reassuring smile as he responded with tenderness, "You were just a child, Ionia."
"I suppose you're the only one who sees it that way. After all, you're a god. You can't hate your own children."
"Indeed," the god admitted begrudgingly, "but, I do not condone their despicable actions."
"You can't control them either."
Sol sighed, sensing the heaviness that had enveloped them. Time felt as though it had stretched on since they became immersed in this past memory.
"I'm even more surprised by how unaffected you are by your own past circumstances," he remarked at last.
Replying to him calmly, Ionia regarded him with genuinely calm eyes. "And what would you like me to say? I was naive, much like any gullible person. You get stepped on, taken advantage of, until you're cast aside, broken, and unable to escape the traumas."
It was the first time he had seen such serenity in her since their initial encounter in the vestige.
"You've changed, child. You've grown."
"I have indeed." Ionia conceded with a weary sigh. Then added after a slight pause, "I didn't want to go back."
"I know."
"But you sent me back anyway."
"It was Azrael's wish."
Ionia's brows furrowed as she looked at Sol skeptically. "Why would he risk something like that for someone he barely knew? It's foolish."
"I may be a god, but I assure you, I have no knowledge of the thoughts and intentions of my beloved children. Only Azrael can offer the answers you seek."
"I doubt he'll even remember the reasons now that time has been rewound." Ionia remarked.
Why was everything so complicated?
"But the vestige can." His words felt strange, yet their meaning was crystal clear to her.
It occurred to Ionia that, just as the vestige had ensnared them in this past memory to convey a message, it might hold the answers to the myriad questions she sought.
However, a sense of uncertainty lingered. Was it truly worth pursuing?
A heavy silence lingered between them, marked by Sol's evident discomfort, making him appear more human than godly in that moment.
Seeking to change the conversation, Ionia inquired, "Why haven't we returned yet?"
"We will. When you've seen what it wants you to see. Only then."
"I did say I had no intention of changing fate."
Sol was about to say something when a peculiar object, about the size of a sparrow but far more elegant and robust, glided past them. He couldn't contain his amazement.
"Dear lord, what is this?" Sol wondered aloud as they observed the object.
Its exterior boasted delicate filigree patterns, made from lightweight yet durable materials that resembled silver and were adorned with radiant sapphire-blue accents. Integrated into its chest and wings were small, pulsating mana crystals, granting it the ability to tap into magical energies.
"A NanoLink Carrier," Ionia muttered to herself.
She watched the object fly gracefully inside through the open balcony door, landing on the younger Ionia's desk.
"You mean it's like a messenger, akin to a carrier pigeon?" Sol inquired, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Yes, but it's far more advanced," Ionia explained.
Sol, visibly intrigued, approached the device to scrutinize it closely. "How so?" he asked.
"It doesn't die, remains unaffected by weather, and ensures privacy. It self-destructs if someone attempts to force-read the message."
"Oh my goodness, this sounds like a remarkable invention. But who would send such a thing?"
Ionia's brows knitted with concern as she asked, "I've been wanting to ask, Sol. You don't seem to know much about our world, do you? It's almost as if you've been trapped in the past."
Sol cleared his throat uncomfortably, then muttered, "I had more pressing matters to attend to—"
"Like what?"
Sol hesitated for a moment before replying, "Just matters... But let's not change the subject. Who is this message from?"
His eyes were silently imploring Ionia to let the matter drop, and in response, she sighed, massaging her temples before nodding slightly.
"Alright," she relented. "No, I don't know the sender."
Sol continued, intrigued, "How is that? It's here in your memory. You must have read the message, right?"
Before Ionia could respond, the bathroom door suddenly swung open, and the younger Ionia emerged, her hair dripping wet.
As Sol's gaze settled on her, his eyes instantly filled with sadness, unable to help but feel pity for the child who had to endure a cold shower just because the maids were too lazy to heat the water.
The younger girl came to an abrupt halt, her eyes fixing upon the mysterious object on her desk. A stern, almost disdainful expression marred her usually carefree and innocent countenance.
The transformation in her demeanor surprised Sol, who had previously known her to be optimistic and full of youthful innocence.
"Why is this here again?" Her voice carried a bitter tone as she inquired.
Even the older Ionia couldn't help but take an interest in the young girl's sudden change in attitude.
She continued her monologue, "Tsk, I already told them I had no intention of leaving my father's house to go to theirs. Why are they so persistent?"
Thud-! Thud-! Thud-!
Rapid footsteps echoed as she seized the device, almost simultaneously opening her desk drawer and tossing it inside.
"That's why," the older Ionia muttered, pensively.
The older Ionia could barely remember this small object or the sender's name because she hadn't even bothered to read it in the past. But now, she felt she was beginning to understand.
"What is it?" Sol inquired, puzzled, his gaze alternating between the older and younger Ionia.
"I think I have a clue now," she stated.
"A clue of what?"
"Of what the vestige was trying to show." Just as this realization dawned, a shimmering light, similar to the one that had enveloped them earlier, appeared, blinding their sight and altering the setting.
They were back at the arcane waterfall, surrounded by a mini lake, blue roses, and lush greenery.
"Just as I thought," she murmured, calmly observing her surroundings. "I was right."
Sol, the god, opted not to prod, maintaining his gentle patience. Instead, he said, "I think it is time to return, Ionia."
"To where?" His words caught her attention, and she quickly turned her head toward him.
"Back to your world. The real one."
This time, she didn't object or fight back her return. She seemed to be accepting her fate. Sol began to wonder why, but there was little he could do to find out.
"Is this where you'll push me back to drown in the water?"
"W-What?" Her distant voice carried an accusatory tone that troubled the god, making it sound as if he had sinister intentions. Sol, feeling the need to clarify, pointed towards the lake and said, "Of course not. You can just walk in there by yourself."
"I see."
"Why are you not saying anything?"
"Say what?"
"That you don't want to go back?"
"What difference will it make?" She demanded, her hands sliding into her pant pocket.
She had apparently entered the vestige in her 14-year-old vessel dressed in training attire.
Strolling leisurely in the direction of the lake, she mumbled aloud, "It's not like anyone ever listens to me anyways."
"That's not—"
"It's alright. I'm used to it," she said, casting an empty stare at him, her face calm. Her steps halted just inches away from the water's edge. "I'll leave now."
"W-wait... before that," Sol called out to her. "Shouldn't you awaken again? I'm sure you're still hurt in the real world."
"Can I awaken as a battlemancer this time?"
"Of course not," Sol frowned, shaking his head in denial. "You were chosen by Vivum. Your only awakening can be as a healer—"
"Then I don't want it," she declared resolutely.
"Child, it is a gift to you from god and the universe."
For the first time since they had met, Ionia regarded him with a serene expression, a semblance of a smirk on her lips.
"I'll say it again. Your gift is a curse to me." As Sol reached out a hand as if trying to reason with her, Ionia took a leap forward, landing into the water with a resounding splash.