"You're finally awake," a cold, detached voice echoed from the shadowed corner of the room.
Mark blinked, his blurry vision sharpening as the white walls of a small, sterile hospital room came into focus. He sat up in his cot and rubbed his eyes.
'Another reference… am I going crazy?'
Ignoring his mind's ramblings, he looked toward the sound of the voice. It was Ranni. Her posture was high and rigid, arms tightly crossed in front.
Her gaze was the usual—cold, steely, piercing—but more. There was something deeper that lingered underneath; it was eating her up.
Anger. Anxiety. Doubt.
It was out of character. While Mark was confused, he couldn't help but feel some strange form of lingering guilt. It was as if her current, conflicted state was his doing.
"Good morning," Mark replied, his voice hoarse and strained. He quickly cleared his voice.
"It's dusk."
"Ah…"
…
The silence was thick and heavy, a tense weight bore down upon the battered boy.
"Anything I can help you with?" Mark asked, confused at her presence.
"Answers."
"About what?"
"Everything."
"You'll have to be more specific."
…
The room turned colder as Ranni stood, her movements slow—deliberate, yet aimless. She inhaled in anticipation, filling the eery silence.
On top of a wooden drawer was an assortment of items. From a bowl, Ranni took hold of an apple.
"The placement test, for one," Ranni said, her attentiontrained on the apple, inspecting every side, every blemish—or lack thereof. "You were skilled enough for the Principal himself to place you in Class 1-A as a swordsman."
"I'm guessing you don't believe that?"
Especially after Mark's spar; even fools could see through his veil.
"Correct," Ranni set the apple down, going back to her seat in the corner. "We both know you've never held a sword in your life. So tell me—What are you?"
"Just an impoverished mage and a poor swordsman."
"Bullshit," Ranni spat, her icy voice cracking like a whip. "Tell me the truth."
'She can't trust me… I understand now…'
Mark's throat turned dry. Fear crept upon his being like a haunting ghost—he tried to swallow it back down. His throat remained dry.
An abnormally long pause ensued as Mark wracked his mind for things to say.
"Would you believe me if I told you?"
"Gonna spin me a story?" Ranni scowled, looking away and shaking her head in disbelief.
Mark remained silent. What could he even say?
Perhaps the only way forward was to come clean—at least, as much as he could. End had him hamstrung.
"You think signing that contract gives you the right to endanger my Guild? My family? You're wrong. I can cut you loose whenever I want," Ranni threatened, anger and irritation leaking from her voice.
"What's stopping you?"
"Nothing," Ranni replied, her voice returned to a monotone cold. "But I'm giving you a chance to prove you're worth the risk."
While her expectations of Mark's skill had somewhat crumbled, that wasn't the real reason behind her volatile and uncharacteristic emotions.
It was the ideal. A pedestal. Naivety. Not a savior; a vessel to actualize herself. The breaking of that ideal felt like betrayal. It was preposterous, but in reality, they were both at fault.
Ranni's face twitched and contorted. There was so much more within her jade eyes—more than anger and turmoil.
"You want the truth?" Mark looked straight into Ranni's eyes.
"The truth."
Mark knew his hand had been forced. He knew that if he truly wanted anything in this life, he had to be willing to take the risk.
Staying silent, keeping his head down—that wasn't an option. Not anymore.
That wasn't the life he wanted. He had to make concessions.
He swallowed once more. The weight of choice was a difficult one to bear.
A point of no return.
But no regrets either. That's what mattered to Mark.
…
"I'm not the same Mark. I'm not the nobody who ranked 100 as a swordsman."
He didn't waver, his eyes boring into Ranni's as he spoke. He wanted her to feel the truth in his words; for her to see that he meant every syllable.
"…What?" Ranni's brows furrowed in confusion as she leaned forward.
"After the placement test, I woke up with large gaps in my memory," Mark explained. "And I had memories of a different life. Memories of a past… and a future."
"What do you mean by 'future'?"
"I know things that are going to happen—knowledge I shouldn't have."
Ranni replied with her gaze. She didn't believe this fantasy story, woven by a con man. Humans lied like second nature, especially when personal gain was at stake.
But for some strange, naive reason, she hadn't given up. She hadn't rejected him.
She wanted him to prove it. He saw that in those jade eyes of hers.
"The Luikots Guild, for example," Mark elaborated. "I know they've found a way to replicate a lesser version of the Perceptive Eye."
Ranni's eyes widened as she slowly leaned back into her chair, the significance of his words sinking with her.
It was an incredibly well-guarded secret, one only few could know. And now it had been spilled by a complete nobody.
Mark's claim was outlandish, though now it had substance.
"And… and your past?" she stammered out, her voice a whisper.
"A life of a complete nobody," Mark's eyes drifted to the door in front of him, though they focused on nothing. An aimless stare. "It was a life, but it wasn't. Not really."
Ranni could feel the palpable anguish in his voice. It was real. Something no actor or con man could replicate.
"Then why did you keep going? Why go after money and power? Why try to act like nothing happened? Why approach me?" Ranni asked, leaning forward, her eyes discerning his every movement as she released only a fraction of her confusion through questions.
Mark's gaze slowly drifted back to Ranni's keen jade eyes, locking together.
"It was like a second chance," he said, his voice steady and hopeful. "I could leave my new past regrets behind and use the future to guide me. If you could redo your life over, do things differently, wouldn't you?"
Ranni hesitated, her mind a storm of tangential thoughts. It was an impossible hypothetical—now made reality. Everything was unraveling, and she struggled to keep up.
"…But I'd be lying if I said that was the full story," Mark added quietly.
Ranni felt a pang in her chest—her heart sank; her naive veil shattered, one which had slowly repaired up until this point.
She had almost thought, for the slightest of seconds, that everything was neatly wrapped up in a bow. If only life were that simple.
More lies. More misleading half-truths. A complete mess that aggravated her endlessly.
"This new life is cursed."
But her anger faded, intrigue taking hold. She was still naive to the core.
"How so?"
"There's a man I must kill. A purpose I've been given."
"Who?"
"William von Westergard—the real culprit behind the Alchemy Lab theft."
Ranni stared at Mark with a blank expression. It was a name with no meaning.
"You don't know him because he's not of this world," Mark said. "But he must die."
"Why?"
"Because he is destined to destroy this world."
Mark had to lie, though it pained him.
Lies and truth had blended, to the point of self-delusion. But Mark had little remorse when it came to self-preservation.
Up until now, Mark had told the truth—a thin truth, filled with misdirection. A whole truth was still part truth, and in his mind, that much sufficed.
He didn't understand why William had to die—not truly, and not yet. But with what little he knew, this seemed to be the best lie that he could concoct—for both his and Ranni's sake.
The two silently stared at one another. Ranni covered her mouth as she leaned on her hand, deep in thought. The rabbit hole was much deeper than she could have imagined.
"My confrontation with William will be many years into the future. You and the Luikots Guild will have no trouble. Right now, he's out of my reach."
Another silence settled in the still air, tense and heavy. Ranni's eyes drifted to the ceiling, her breath a shaky exhale.
When their eyes met once more, Mark could see more. Her beautiful jade eyes wetly glossed over.
They were so full of conflict. Two sides. Hope desperately fought back against fear.
She needed more. She wanted more.
…
Their eyes connected, neither looking away for an instant. A bridge into the soul of the other.
Something sparked within Mark—something he had thought was lost. A fire that had once been quenched by the past, now rekindled in his rebirth
His flame was the kindling of freedom. The fire that would purge authority and melt his chains.
But now, this fire was different. Two kindlings merged into one flame.
Passion. Compassion. A strange, intoxicating blend of the two mixed with the original, creating a bonfire within his soul.
And from this fire, Mark spoke.
"I will do everything in my power to serve the Luikots Guild. And I will leave it the best Guild in the entire Human Realm. I swear this to you…" Mark was firm, resolute. His determination flooded the air.
His eyes never left hers.
"…I'll do it because I must."
That was the truth.
Yet even this was deceptive in nature. Ranni's interpretation of his words differed from his true goal.
A tempest of thoughts and emotions churned within Ranni. There wasn't a decision to be made; not here anyway.
She stood with a deep inhale.
As she turned towards the door and gripped the handle, she hesitated, glancing back at Mark from her periphery.
Fear had taken a strong grip on Ranni. Her throat was dry—her mind a whirlwind of confusion and intense emotion.
It was an impossible situation that manifested into reality. But the impossible could make her dreams a reality.
She hoped.
"Give me some time to think," Ranni choked. "But your secrets are safe with me. I swear upon the Mother."
She gently twisted the door handle.
Click.
The door shut softly behind her, leaving a loud silence in its wake.
Mark leaned back in his bed with a relieving exhale. The ball was in her court now. He had done all he could.
Now, he could only hope that Ranni took the risk.