I sat by the fire, its warmth barely touching the cold ache in my chest. The flames flickered softly in the quiet night, but my mind felt heavier than the silence around us. I didn't get it. Why did Kaiser even want to help me? Why bother talking to someone like me?
I glanced at him quickly, then lowered my eyes back to my lap. My hands were clenched tight, my fingers digging into the fabric of my clothes. He could probably see how useless I was—how much of a burden I'd been.
He saved me when I fell, made sure I had food to eat, and kept me safe. I couldn't stop the thoughts from circling in my head, each one sharper than the last. Why is he thanking me? It doesn't make sense. It should be the other way around. Without him, I wouldn't even be alive.
"Kaiser..." I finally said, barely audible. My voice wavered as I stared at the ground, my fingers twisting together.
"I've done nothing to help you. I've only burdened you... burdened you with my injury. I don't understand why you're thanking me." My eyes dropped lower, my insecurities pulling me deeper into a familiar pit.
"Without you, I wouldn't even be here."
My voice broke, and I quickly covered my eyes with one hand, hiding the tears that were about to fall. My other hand clutched at my lap. Why am I even saying this? He doesn't need to hear it. No one does.
From the other side of the fire, Kaiser's soft smile broke the tension. "You know," he said, his voice light but steady, "I can see you're broken." His words caught me off guard, and I stiffened.
"You've been suffering for so long that you've lost all confidence and hope inside you."
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes meeting mine. Then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, his tone shifted into something lighter.
"But hey, don't get too gloomy on me now. I'm here if you ever need someone to talk to or just... someone to listen." His grin stretched across his face, playful but sincere.
I shook my head, my voice trembling as I spoke again. "Why... why would you help someone like me? Someone who's cursed... a witch. That's what they all call me. A monster." My voice faltered, and I clenched my jaw to hold back a sob. I refused to let him see my tears, raising my hand slightly to block my face.
"Everyone wants me gone. They hate me. They think I should just disappear." My fingers dug into my lap, the sharp pain grounding me. "I just... I want to give up already. I don't want to endure anymore. Time isn't healing anything. It's only made the pain worse."
The night air felt colder now, the wind brushing past my hair as the moonlight illuminated the field. The silence hung heavy, and I wondered if I had said too much. But then Kaiser stood up, his movement catching my attention.
He stepped closer to the fire, his figure framed by the soft glow. His expression was calm but determined, and his crystal-blue eyes seemed to pierce through the barriers I had built. Reaching out his hand slightly, he spoke, his voice filled with quiet strength.
"Time doesn't take the pain away," he said softly. "It only teaches us how to live with it. How to move on and... be happy again."
His words struck something deep within me, breaking through the numbness. How can someone like him... someone who doesn't even know me, say that?
As he spoke, tiny flickers of light appeared around us. Fireflies. One landed gently on his outstretched hand, as if trusting him completely. He smiled down at it, his expression softening.
I couldn't help but wonder to myself, I've never seen fireflies before... and I've never seen one trust a human so easily.
"Isn't it beautiful to live?" he asked quietly, his voice soft but filled with awe. "To feel the wind on your face, the warmth of the sun, the colors in the sky? Even when things are dark, the world still has so much beauty. Don't give up on it. Because if you do… you'll never see what tomorrow might bring."
He stepped back slightly, his arms spreading wide as if to gesture at the world around us. The openness in his body language made me feel something I hadn't in years—a faint glimmer of trust. His words carried a warmth that reached through the cold void inside me.
But I couldn't respond. My thoughts swirled, tangled between my fears and the strange sense of hope he had stirred. Why does he care so much? I clenched my hands together tightly, staring at them as I struggled to find the courage to speak.
I have no name, no purpose. No home or family. What's the point? What's the point of continuing to live?
Before I could say anything, Kaiser's tone shifted again, playful and teasing. "You know," he said with a smirk, "you interrogated me so much when we first met. I thought I was the one who'd need to answer all the questions tonight." He chuckled lightly.
"But it just hit me—I forgot to ask for your name."
His question startled me. I looked up, my breath hitching. His eyes were filled with genuine curiosity, not judgment. For a moment, I couldn't bring myself to answer, my voice caught in my throat. Then, quietly, I thought of her—Lyla. My sister's voice echoed in my mind, the way she used to call me "Lia." But the thought brought back the pain of everything I had lost, and I couldn't bring myself to say it aloud.
"I..." My voice trailed off. I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't have a name."
Kaiser's expression softened, but he didn't press me. Instead, he sat back down by the fire, his smile never fading. "Well," he said lightly, "that's something we can work on."
I blinked, confused, but he didn't explain further. Instead, he looked up at the sky, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to feel... curious. About him. About his words. About the faint hope flickering in the corner of my heart.
The fire crackled softly as the forest whispered around us, the night alive with distant chirps and the rustle of leaves in the gentle wind. I sat there, staring at the flames, but their warmth did little to comfort me. My thoughts churned like a storm I couldn't escape, and the weight of my own inadequacy pressed down harder with each passing second.
Kaiser sat across from me after, poking at the fire with a stick, his expression unusually calm. The flickering light highlighted the sharp angles of his face, but there was something softer in his eyes—a glimmer of understanding I didn't fully trust.
"You know," he said softly, breaking the silence, "I'm almost just like you."
He looked down as he said it, his blue eyes filled with sadness. For a moment, it felt like he understood everything—my pain, my struggle. His voice was quiet, almost heavy. "I can feel it," he added, barely above a whisper. "How much it hurts."
I blinked, unsure of what he meant. His voice carried a strange mixture of seriousness and vulnerability, something I hadn't expected.
He leaned back, tossing the stick aside as if discarding the weight of his thoughts.
"A few years ago, my mother sent me here, to Celestine. I don't know why. Maybe she hated me. Maybe she thought I was too much of a burden." His voice wavered, bitterness laced with something deeper—hurt, confusion. His eyes drifted toward the horizon, unfocused, as if searching for answers he might never find. "But even then… I loved her. I would have done anything for her."
He paused, the silence heavy between us, his expression caught between longing and anger.
"Her last message to me—just a single letter—said to take care of myself, that one day, it would all make sense." He laughed, but it was hollow, the sound of someone trying to mask the pain.
"I've always wondered why things turned out the way they did," he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet ache. "Why I ended up here, why everything happened the way it did."
"There have been nights I've stared at her words, hoping they'd tell me why she sent me here, why she left me alone in a place that never felt like mine." He paused, his gaze distant. "I guess, in a way, I'm holding on to it… because part of me wants to believe there's some reason behind it all. That maybe she had a purpose, even if I can't see it."
I looked up at him, unsure of what to say. The way he spoke made it clear—he didn't believe it had made sense yet. I could see it in his eyes, the weight of unanswered questions still haunting him, just like they haunted me.
Maybe that's why his words struck me so deeply—because I understood that pain all too well. The feeling of searching for meaning in a world that seemed to offer none, trying to piece together a story that felt broken. It was like we were both stuck, caught between our pasts and the uncertainty of what was to come.
"I know I can't compare to you," he continued, his voice quieter now. "You've been through years of pain, alone, hunted, and hated. I've only had to deal with a fraction of that."
His words hit me strangely. There was something in the way he said them—like he was used to expecting the worst from life. It wasn't just what he said but how he said it that made me realize how deep his pessimism ran. I hesitated, unsure if I should speak.
"How long have you been here?" I finally asked, my voice soft. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him, but the words caught in my throat. It was hard to imagine anyone else being abandoned like me.
He smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Five years. Five years alone in Celestine. And in that time, I've seen it all—death, bloodshed, false hope, and utter despair. I wanted to find my purpose... but all I found was something darker, something that made me question everything. Humanity's so-called nobility—it's a lie. The truth? It's terrifying."
He paused, his eyes far off, like he was seeing something from the past. "I wanted to know… if there was really any value to this thing we call living. If any of it mattered. Or if we're all just waiting for the end."
I looked down at my lap, my fingers twisting the fabric of my skirt, a nervous habit I couldn't shake. Five years... He had survived so long, each day a battle fought alone, and yet he stood there, carrying it all with such cold strength.
I couldn't help but think to myself—I was just like him. But unlike him, I couldn't help anyone, not even myself. I ran from my problems, hid from them, hoping they'd go away. But he... he faced his, even when it seemed impossible. And now, despite everything, he's trying to help me. Why?
I had barely managed four years on my own, and even then, it felt like I was unraveling at the edges—each year leaving scars deeper than the last. His endurance, his ability to push forward despite everything, felt like something I could never reach. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't built to withstand the weight of it all.
"I wish I was like you," I whispered, not realizing I had spoken aloud, the words slipping from my mouth before I could stop them. My heart thudded painfully in my chest, and for a moment, I felt exposed—like I was comparing my shattered self to someone who had managed to hold himself together, no matter how broken he might've been inside.
Kaiser's laughter broke the silence. He grinned at me, his usual humor returning, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"What, you seriously want to be like me?" He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. "Careful now, that's a big step. You sure you can handle all this charming?" He gestured to himself with a mock-serious look.
I felt my face heat up, and I shot to my feet, glaring at him. "No!" I shouted, my voice higher than I intended, crossing my arms defensively. "That's not what I meant! It just slipped out, okay?"
As his gaze lingered, a wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I quickly raised my hands to cover my blushing face. "I-I'm serious!" I stammered from behind my hands, peeking through my fingers for a second before turning my head away. "Don't get the wrong idea!" My voice trembled slightly, betraying how flustered I truly was.
He kept laughing, his grin widening. "You're adorable when you get flustered," he teased, leaning back like he'd won some unspoken game.
I sat back down, scowling, but his laughter had softened something inside me. Despite his teasing, I felt a little lighter, like the weight pressing down on my chest had eased—just a little.
The wind carried the scent of pine and earth as I dared to ask another question. "Why were you in the forest, anyway? If you weren't trying to hunt me, what were you doing here?"
He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes flickering away for a moment. "Uh… I was looking for a campsite," he said casually, though the pause in his voice gave him away. "Yeah, that's it." He cleared his throat, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tension in his words betrayed him, as if he was still searching for a way to cover the truth.
I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Really?"
He sighed, giving in. "Fine. I was heading to a nearby village to restock, and that's when I saw some high-class adventurers. The villagers had hired them to hunt you." His expression darkened slightly. "They offered 500 gold coins for your dead body."
The words stung, even though I wasn't surprised. "So, you were going to hunt me too?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My hands tightened into fists, doubt clawing at me again.
Kaiser smirked, his humor returning. "What if I was? Would you have fought me off with your scary 'witch powers'?"
I glared at him, but his grin only widened. "You're insufferable," I muttered, though his sarcasm tugged at the corner of my lips despite myself.
He raised his hands defensively, still grinning. "Alright, alright. The truth is, I was curious. I heard all these stories about this 'Queen of Curses,' being reborned. This monster everyone was so terrified of. I wanted to see for myself if they were true."
I frowned, his words sinking in. He didn't trust what others told him—he needed to see things with his own eyes. That kind of paranoia... It explained a lot about him.
"And?" I asked, my voice quieter now, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.
He met my eyes, his smile softening as he took a deep breath. "And then I met you." His words seemed almost reluctant, as if saying them made him vulnerable. "You saved my life back there, warning me about those Noctis. You knew I was just another hunter, but you still helped me."
He paused for a moment, his gaze drifting as if lost in thought. Then he added quietly, "Honestly, when I first heard the screams from the other hunters, I thought they were just messing around. I didn't realize how dangerous it was." He shook his head with a bitter chuckle. "I thought I could handle anything, but those things... they came out of nowhere."
His eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, I saw something in them—fear. "I've faced a lot in this life," he said quietly, "but when those screams started, I wasn't sure I'd make it out. All I could think was, I hope I'm not the next one to scream for help." His voice faltered slightly, the weight of his words sinking in.
So far, I thought he was fearless but hearing him talk about the Noctis—how they shook him—was a side of him I hadn't seen before.
"I didn't even know what was lurking," he said, his voice lower now. "I've fought a lot, but those Noctis... they were something else. I wasn't sure I was prepared for that." He let out a nervous laugh, but it was hollow. "I guess I wasn't."
There was an eerie vulnerability in his words, a stark contrast to his usual cocky demeanor. It reminded me that, despite his tough exterior, Kaiser had his own fears, his own doubts. Just like me.
"I wasn't expecting to get saved, especially not by someone I thought was out to kill me," he added, a wry smile returning to his lips, but there was still a hint of unease behind it.
"But you..." He paused, his gaze locking with mine. "If you'd stayed quiet, those Noctis would've caught me. You knew that. You could've let me die, just another hunter gone. You could've stayed back, listened to the screams of the others, let it feed your anger, your need for revenge. It probably would've felt good."
He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but firm. "But you didn't. You stepped in. You wanted me to live, even though I was just another hunter, one of the ones who could've easily been your enemy."
His admission, that brief crack in his confident mask, made something stir in me. When I first met him, he had that cocky attitude—always confident, always joking, never showing any hint of doubt. But hearing him speak like this, so raw and uncertain, made me realize how much I had misunderstood. It was hard to imagine someone like him, who always seemed unshakable, could feel fear like the rest of us.
I looked away, unsure of how to respond, my mind struggling to make sense of his words. They didn't make sense to me.
"I didn't do anything special," I mumbled, my insecurities bubbling to the surface, a familiar self-doubt creeping in.
"That's where you're wrong," he said firmly, his voice carrying an intensity that caught me off guard. "You felt sympathy for me, even though I didn't deserve it. Even after everything, you didn't want me to die. That's why I trust you." He looked at me, his eyes soft but steady.
"No 'Queen of Curses' would ever act the way you did."
His voice softened even more as he looked at me, a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes.
"I don't know how to say it, but... because of you, I think I can finally see the beauty in this world again. You've given me something I thought I'd lost forever."
He paused, his eyes holding mine, before adding quietly, "Thank you, Lia."
His words hit me harder than I expected, and I found myself speechless, lost in the raw honesty of his eyes.
Tears welled up in my eyes, unbidden and relentless, as I thought about the name—Lia. It was the name my sister always called me, the one that had slipped from my lips in my dreams.
Was he… the person she had been talking about? The one I was meant to find? The thought made my heart race, a mix of hope and fear, as if the pieces of something bigger were starting to fall into place. Hearing his words, I didn't even know how I felt—there was too much to process. It was overwhelming.
I hadn't realized it at first, but tears were streaming down my cheeks. Nobody had ever understood me this well—not even my sister. But he did. Somehow, he saw the parts of me I kept hidden from the world, and his words had reached a place no one else had ever touched.
These tears… they weren't because I was sad. No, they came from somewhere else, a warmth I couldn't put into words. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was crying because I was happy. Tears of happiness.
Kaiser furrowed his brow, a deep concern settling on his face. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked, his voice soft and hesitant, as if searching for reassurance.
"I heard you say that name while you were asleep, and I just... I thought it was yours. I didn't mean to assume, and I'm sorry if I overstepped."
His eyes softened further, regret glimmering in his eyes as he waited for me to say something, clearly worried that he had made a mistake.
I shook my head left and right, signaling to him that I was okay, though the slight smile on my lips might not have fully convinced him. I didn't want him to worry, not when his own burden seemed so heavy.
He raised his hands, showing his palms in a calm, open gesture, as if trying to assure me he meant no harm. The uncertainty in his eyes mirrored his words, his body language softer now, trying to read me, to understand what I was feeling.
I felt a lump in my throat, but I didn't want to speak. My thoughts raced. No one had ever seen me like this. No one except my sister. Everyone else only saw the witch, the monster. But he... Kaiser, he looked past all of that. He wasn't afraid to trust me, to see the person beneath the scars and the rumors. He was seeing me for who I really was, and that made me feel something I hadn't felt in years—hope.
Kaiser hesitated, his usual confidence faltering for a moment. He moved closer, gently placing a hand on my shoulder, his touch tentative but warm. "Hey, it's okay," he said quietly, his voice soft with something I couldn't quite place—genuine care.
"You don't have to keep it in. I'm here now, and I swear I'll do everything I can to make sure you never have to feel this alone again." His words were slow, heavy with sincerity, as if trying to pull me from the storm inside myself.
His hand moved hesitantly, brushing away some of the tears from my cheek with a tenderness I hadn't expected. For a moment, I just let him. His kindness felt strange, yet genuine, and for once, I didn't feel judged, didn't feel like I was broken beyond repair.
To lighten the mood, Kaiser flashed me a mischievous grin and raised his arms dramatically, striking a mock-heroic pose. "And then, just as I was cornered by a wild monster the size of a small mountain," he began, his voice dropping to an exaggerated whisper, "I did the only thing any sane person would do."
He paused for effect, leaning in closer with a conspiratorial wink, and then, without warning, flung himself backward, pretending to dodge an imaginary beast. "I ran like the wind! And by 'ran,' I mean I tripped over a rock and rolled down a hill for ten minutes!" He collapsed back onto the ground with a dramatic sigh, making a show of catching his breath.
I couldn't help but laugh at his antics, the tension in my chest easing just a little. He smiled at me, eyes sparkling with mischief, and launched into another ridiculous tale, full of wild exaggerations and his signature humor. "And then there was the time I fought off an entire pack of grey wolves—while blindfolded!" He winked. "Okay, maybe it wasn't a pack, and maybe I wasn't blindfolded, but still, heroic, right?"
As Kaiser leaned back, fully in storyteller mode, he continued, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone.
"So," he began, leaning back slightly as if preparing for a grand performance, "there was this one time, after a long quest clearing monsters near the desert. I'm starving, right? I'm thirsty too—parched, dry throat, the whole deal. I walk into this bar, and there's these two guys munching away like they're trying to devour the entire place."
"They're sitting there at the bar, stuffing their faces with food like there's no tomorrow. I'm talking tons of food, just piled high, and they're talking between mouthfuls, sounding like a bunch of lunatics. It was like watching a feeding frenzy, but here's the kicker—what they were saying? It wasn't even real words! It was this weird gibberish, just slurring through their mouths with food flying everywhere, and I swear, I didn't understand a single thing."
Kaiser tilted his head, pretending to eavesdrop on an imaginary conversation between the two.
"One of them says something like, 'Grrrmph gubba, shoolah rahrah!' and the other one responds with 'Gggglllk ghhaahh!' It was honestly so strange, I thought I was losing my mind."
He grinned as he went on. "I'm just standing there, hungry as hell, staring at these two idiots going back and forth in what sounded like a mix of a wolf's growl and a camel that's been run over. Like, how the hell were they communicating with each other?"
I laughed, imagining the scene.
Kaiser threw his hands up in mock confusion, exaggerating his bewilderment. "And they're talking like it's the most normal thing in the world! Meanwhile, I'm sitting there trying to figure out whether they're planning an ambush or summoning a demon. I'm just... how are they even understanding each other?"
He shook his head dramatically, his voice rising in frustration. "It was like some secret language only the truly starving could speak."
He looked over at me with a smirk. "And let me tell you, by the end of that conversation, I was ready to start speaking gibberish myself, just to see if they'd invite me to their little food party."
"And I'm sitting there, absolutely starving, ready to throw myself at them for just a crumb of whatever they're eating. So, I finally gather the courage, wave the bartender down, and ask for something—anything—to eat or drink. You know what they told me?" He leaned in closer, eyes wide for dramatic effect.
I raised an eyebrow, bracing myself for whatever absurd punchline was coming.
"They said, 'Sorry, we're out.'"
I blinked. "Out of food? In a bar?"
Kaiser nodded dramatically. "Out of food, out of drink, out of everything. It was like the universe conspired to torture me. So, there I was, starving and thirsty, sitting between these two gibbering idiots who didn't seem to care at all. They just kept munching away like it was the greatest feast ever."
Kaiser leaned in, eyes wide with mock seriousness. "So, what did I do? Naturally, I got desperate. I stood up, walked right up to them, and—" He paused dramatically, giving a mischievous grin. "I started speaking gibberish myself. Just throwing out the wildest sounds I could think of: 'Blorrrr tish togrin zoppo!' You know, that kind of stuff. Thought I'd fit right in."
I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it.
Kaiser snickered, continuing, "And of course, they thought I was mocking them. Big mistake. They whistled, and suddenly, out of nowhere, seven of their buddies appeared. They looked like they just crawled out of a desert storm, but there they were—ready to defend their honor or whatever it was. I'm thinking, 'Great, now I'm the one in trouble.'"
He paused for a moment, shaking his head. "So, I did what any sane person would do—I ran." He raised his hands in mock surrender, "I was in the desert, no water, no shade, and still, they just wouldn't stop chasing me. I swear, they were like a pack of angry birds or something. By the time I lost them, I could barely stand, but hey, at least I wasn't food for the vultures, right?"
Kaiser grinned widely at the memory, clearly entertained by the chaos of it all.
He paused, looking down at his lap with a sigh before continuing. "I felt like dying, honestly. If I could have, I would have probably drank poison and called it a night. But guess what? I was too poor to even afford the poison. All I had was a couple of copper coins and a grumbling stomach."
I burst out laughing, despite the weight of everything that had just been said. It was hard not to find the humor in his misery, especially with the way he told it, his voice full of sarcasm and self-deprecation.
Kaiser leaned back, looking pleased with himself as he saw my reaction. "Yeah, it's always the best stories, right? When you're about to starve to death, and there's not even a chance to escape your misery. That's the true adventure."
I couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all.
He just wanted to make me smile, to stop me from crying anymore. I had only suffered pain and hatred all my life, but he wanted to change that. He promised that he would make sure I wouldn't cry again. I had to live up to that. I couldn't let him down, not when someone was finally trying to make things better.
He looked at me, his usual grin softening just a little. "You know," he said, his tone a bit lighter now, "I like it when you smile. It suits you." He paused for a moment, his eyes studying me as if weighing his words. "We'll figure out a proper name for you soon. I can't keep calling you the 'Queen of Curses,' can I?"
There was a teasing warmth to his voice that made me feel just a little less alone.
I laughed, quieter this time, but it felt real—like a part of me was waking up after so long in the dark. For the first time in years, I felt like I wasn't entirely alone, and the thought, for once, didn't scare me.