I sank into the plush cushions of the couch in the hall room, letting the weight of the day drift away as I rested. The flickering light from the hearth cast a warm, soothing glow over the room, and I closed my eyes, allowing the crackling fire to lull me into a state of calm.
The soft hum of Rosalia preparing dinner in the kitchen was a comforting backdrop. It had been a long day filled with conversations and encounters, but now, in the quiet of our home, I could relax. I leaned back further into the cushions, my thoughts wandering as I savored this moment of peace.
As I waited, I couldn't help but think about the day's events. Running into Aunt Ayla and Saria had been a pleasant surprise. Both women were important to our family, and it was good to reconnect after some time. Aunt Ayla's cheerful presence and Saria's fiery spirit were reminders of how close-knit our village was. Each encounter, each conversation, added another layer to this world I now inhabited.
A soft sound broke the silence—a small creak of the floorboards as someone approached. I opened my eyes just as Liora and Elara entered the room, their faces lighting up when they saw me.
"Taking a break, brother?" Liora asked with a teasing smile, her silver eyes glinting as she crossed the room and settled beside me.
Elara, always more reserved but no less affectionate, followed suit and took the seat opposite us. "You look deep in thought," she observed quietly, her hands folded in her lap.
I shrugged, a half-smile forming on my lips. "Just thinking about the day."
Liora leaned in, propping her chin on her hand as she studied me with curiosity. "I saw you talking with Aunt Ayla earlier. She's always been fond of you. Did she drag you into any of her projects?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not yet, but I have a feeling she's going to soon."
"She's relentless," Liora said with a grin. "I remember when she made me help her with the Frostpetal Garden for a whole week. I think I still have frostbite."
Elara laughed softly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "She means well, though. Aunt Ayla has always cared for the village in her own way."
"She has," I agreed, letting out a relaxed sigh. "You know, we should have her over for dinner soon. I mentioned it to Rosalia earlier."
"Good idea," Elara said, nodding. "She'll be happy to spend more time with us. And Saria too."
Liora smirked at the mention of Saria. "Oh, Saria. She's as fiery as her forge. You're going to have your hands full with her."
I raised an eyebrow, giving Liora a curious look. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
Liora's grin widened, and she leaned back, crossing her arms. "Oh, nothing. Just that Saria's always had a bit of a soft spot for you. Haven't you noticed?"
Elara smiled faintly, her expression more subtle but no less knowing. "She's not wrong, brother. Saria's been… quite interested in you lately."
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I think I've got enough to deal with without adding another layer to all of this."
Liora laughed, reaching out to lightly poke my arm. "Come on, brother, you're the most eligible man in the village. Of course, everyone's going to be interested."
I shook my head, amused. "I'd rather focus on the family."
Elara smiled softly, her eyes reflecting the warmth of our bond. "We appreciate that, Rosé. But you should also take some time for yourself. You've done so much for all of us."
Before I could respond, the sound of Rosalia calling out from the kitchen interrupted us. "Dinner's ready!"
Liora jumped up, grinning as she grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Come on, let's eat! I'm starving!"
As we sat in the living room, the soft warmth from the fireplace contrasting with the growing heaviness in the air, the conversation shifted to darker memories. The peaceful, light-hearted tone from earlier had vanished, replaced by a somber quietness that settled over the room like a shadow.
Liora was the first to speak, her voice tinged with sadness. "Do you remember the plague?" she asked, almost hesitantly.
Elara glanced at her, her face reflecting the same quiet sorrow. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the past.
I wasn't there when it happened—too young, or rather, in my new existence, I had only learned about it through the memories of the previous Rosé. But I knew the story well enough. It had been burned into the collective memory of the village, a scar that no amount of time could heal.
"The Plague of Zaltor," Elara whispered, her voice barely audible. "It was the worst time we've ever faced."
Even though I hadn't lived through it myself, I could feel the echoes of the devastation in their words, the lingering pain as if it had just happened. Zaltor—the ancient, fearsome beast whose name alone was enough to cause shivers—had been responsible for it all.
"Zaltor..." I muttered, letting the name sit on my tongue. From the previous Rosé's memories, I knew it was a creature like no other—massive and terrifying, its body covered in scales as dark as the void, with fiery eyes that radiated pure malice. It had lived deep within the Zestia Forest for centuries, protecting the balance of the magical creatures within. Or so it was believed.
But then, for reasons no one could explain, Zaltor had attacked.
"It was enormous," Liora said, her voice trembling as she recalled the sight of the beast. "Like a living mountain... and its roar... it felt like the end of everything."
From what I had gleaned, Zaltor's attack was swift and without mercy. The village hadn't been prepared for such a monstrous threat. The massive beast, in its rage, had decimated homes and lives alike, tearing through defenses as if they were nothing.
"Father fought against it," Elara whispered, her eyes clouding over with the memory. "He led the charge with the other warriors, but no one was strong enough to stop Zaltor. Its breath... that's what caused the plague."
I listened intently, even though I already knew how it had all played out. Zaltor's breath was toxic—a foul, magical miasma that poisoned the air. When it swept through the village, it infected the Lumera in a way no one could have imagined.
"The poison in Zaltor's breath wasn't like anything we had seen before," Liora continued, her voice cracking. "It attacked our Lumina directly... slowly weakening us until there was nothing left."
The plague spread rapidly. The beast had been killed, but its death wasn't the end of the nightmare. The poison it unleashed took root in the village. People began to fall ill in waves—some within days, others taking weeks, but the end result was the same. Their Lumina, the very life force that sustained the Lumeras, dimmed and faded until it was snuffed out completely.
"We lost so many people," Elara said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Father was one of the first... but even after that, the plague kept spreading."
From the memories, I knew the full extent of the disaster. Warriors, healers, elders—no one was safe. Even the youngest and healthiest Lumeras succumbed to the sickness, their life forces drained until they were nothing but empty husks. It was a time of endless funerals, with the village bathed in the quiet despair of mourning.
"Our father," I echoed softly, feeling the weight of loss even though the previous Rosé had been the one to experience it directly. "He fought so hard, but it wasn't enough."
Liora's expression tightened, and Elara looked down, her hands clenched in her lap. "It wasn't enough for any of them," Elara added. "And even after Zaltor was dead, we couldn't stop the plague."
It was Aunt Ayla and Aunt Mira who had eventually found a cure. Ayla, with her unparalleled healing abilities, and Mira, whose understanding of magical and alchemical remedies was unmatched, had worked tirelessly to save what was left of the village. But by the time the cure was ready, it was already too late for so many.
"It spread too fast," Liora said, shaking her head. "The more people who died, the more the plague seemed to take from us. I don't think I'll ever forget how empty the village felt afterward... how quiet it became."
From the memories, I could understand the scale of loss they had faced. The village had been a thriving, vibrant place filled with life and energy before the plague. But afterward, it was as if the heart of the community had been ripped out, leaving only the shadows of what once was.
"Aunt Ayla and Aunt Mira saved us," Elara continued, her voice filled with gratitude and reverence. "They found a way to stop the plague, to reverse the effects... but we were never the same."
I nodded, understanding their pain. I hadn't been there to witness it firsthand, but I carried the memories of the previous Rosé. I knew the sorrow, the devastation, and the fear they had felt. The village was stronger now, rebuilt in the wake of tragedy, but the scars of that time would never fully heal.
"That's why we have to keep getting stronger," I said quietly, my voice firm with determination. "We can't afford to be caught off guard again. We owe it to everyone who was lost."