1 [1]
Sure, it would be saddening. Even for her, which hands had long been bathed in blood, she was still only human.
The thought of the things she would never get to see, nor experience, the thoughts of the few regrets that had hindered her till this day. Indeed, it was right to say she felt conflicted, maybe even a bit fearful.
However, this was something she had long decided. It wasn't as if she had spontaneously awoken one day and wanted to let it all end. No, she had thought about it for the last years of her 14-year life.
Amidst that small room she called a house, that hole to which no light was to ever gather. She sat, atop the chair, and with her hands grasping the knife, looking deep into her memory. Still lingering on the few wishes she had never accomplished.
As strong as she was, she too still feared the unknown. Just what was on the other side of that border? Was it a dreamy land like she had wished for, or was it the same scorching nightmare of endless purgatory her life had become?
What comes after it all? She didn't know, yet, here she was.
She traced the silver edge of the blade, slowly across her neck.
"Goodbye...uncle."
She felt it was within her to say her goodbyes and, even as the words spewed out of her lips like a bitter aftertaste, she was satisfied to a degree.
Did she feel regret? Yes, she felt it in the bottom of her heart. How weak she had been to stop anything and how her life had spiraled out of control and into his hands.
She wished she could rewrite it, change it all from the ground up. However, although history repeats itself, it cannot be changed; much less by the hands that had forged them.
"I'm coming home...father...mother.." Her voice had grown more somber over the years, a result of learning to live with both what she had become and what he had made her.
Finally, her silver eyes gleamed their last, and she plunged the blade into her scar-riddled flesh.
There was never a single tear, nor a cry.
As her body fell, and her eyes closed one last time, she smiled. Something she hadn't done for a long time.
It was a bloodied smile.
***
The Royal Castle of Albion.
The marble halls shown in glittering splendor befitting the status of its inhabitants. Blue rugs stretched from one ends of the corridor to the next, and small lamps glowed in a faint blue light as they hung on the walls. An overall grand and serene atmosphere exuded from the building.
However, just then, a cry broke through the innards of the complex. Like a bell, although not loud, it was of striking note.
Within a specialized room prepared for the sake of labor, a woman of blonde hair and emerald colored eyes watched as the priest passed the baby into her hands.
Cradling it's small body in her arms, she smiled a content filled smile as she looked down onto it.
A man stood beside her with the same warmth she showed. His robust body overshadowing both the woman and child and his spiked hair of red and full beard added to the beastly aura around him. Yet, as he stood there, he looked not one bit out of place.
Next to him, a child peaked his head to get a closer look at his new sibling. His ruffled red hair matched his father's well, and his mystifying emerald eyes peered up at the baby in the arms of the woman in curiousness. Finally, he seemed to giggle at a thought only he knew of.
The baby opened its curious eyes as its head wobbled amidst the warmth.
The baby thought to itself 'I didn't die?'
It certainly had a recollection of plunging a blade into its own neck, and certainly remembered the last moments of its life flashing by. However, although she remembered all this, strangely, she couldn't see beyond any of that. Like a hazy film, it only remembered the beginning of its life and the end.
Finally, as she watched, the robust man of spiking red hair called upon the priest and pointed towards her.
"Show us her Sacred Text." His voice was calm, but carried with it an aura of authority.
The priest nodded, "right away, your highness."
He gently placed his thumb on her forehead and began to chant.
"I'm just a vessel of your power. Goddess Gaea, please grant me the divine right to view this human's Sacred Text." A faint light wallowed out of his finger and into her.
Words of white slowly floated amidst the air, just above the baby's small body.
[Name: NA
Strength: A
Speed: A
Mana: A
Skills: <Cannot be Seen>
Overall: S-]
"..."
The room descended into silence as the adults swallowed their saliva while the small child with red hair tilted his head in curiosity. It was obvious he didn't understand why everyone in the room suddenly started to stare at each other in disbelief.
"Abraham....this...is this our daughter?" the woman holding her baby finally asked.
Sure, it may seem wrong for a woman that had just birthed a baby to question whether it was hers or not.
However, of course, she had every reason to ask so. This was not the Sacred Text a baby should hold. In fact, many grown adults around the world wouldn't even pass the rank of C in any of the plates.
"Don't joke around Martha, this is most definitely my daughter!" The man answered with a nod after a moment of silence.
"What do you mean 'my daughter'? Are you forgetting the one who pushed her out?" Martha snapped back with a sneer.
"*cough* hmm....that's not....anyway we have a more pressing issue at hand." Abraham regained his composure after a fit of 'coughing'.
"Oh? What is it?" His wife asked
"My daughter's overall ranking is higher than mine!" Abraham finally spoke his thoughts.
"Is this how a king should act Abraham?" Martha asked in disbelief.
"What do you mean? Have you ever saw a father who was weaker than his own daughter!? Not only that, she still has room to develop! They say everyone can break the limit by at least a rank!"
"How am I supposed to protect her in the future!? Wouldn't I be hiding behind her instead to escape from you!?"
"What do you mean escape from me?" Martha narrowed her eyes.
"...." Abraham
"Tell me, Abraham, why would you need to escape from me?" Martha asked with the sweetest and brightest of smiles.
The priest by the side still had his mouth hung open. He was astonished by both the argument of this royal couple and the Sacred Text of this child. This was the first time he had encountered such a situation!
The baby who was being talked about was quite confused.
'What's all this talk about Sacred Text?' It asked itself.
Just as it thought this, its eyes glowed a faint gold and a white window appeared for it to see.
[Name: NA
Strength: A
Speed: A
Mana: A
Skills: Ruler's Soul (U)
Overall: S-]
It stared at this words in confusion 'Was this a Sacred Text?'
'Name...Strength...Speed...Mana...Skills...Overall.' All these words sounded a bit familiar to it yet they weren't deeply welded into its minuscule memory.
'Ruler's Soul? What's that?'
Just as she thought this, the screen shifted as a smaller window propped up.
[Ruler's Soul: Able to see the Sacred Text of a living being.]
"Ohh." It unconsciously blurted out.
The gaze of the two parents immediately switched to the child as they regained their good-natured aura.
"Umm, right, we still haven't named her yet." Abraham spoke.
"No worries, I already thought of a name for my little princess." Martha answered lightly as she showed him off.
"What!? You didn't consult me?" Abraham was shocked.
"I will name her Maria. After my grandmother." His wife splendidly ignored him as she looked at her child with a smile.
"Maria Springfield, Mmh, much better than my choice of Cecilia." The husband mumbled some nonsense.
The baby watched in real time as its Sacred Text changed. The plate 'Name' updated and the 'NA' was replaced with the words 'Maria Springfield'.
'Maria Springfield.' She thought to herself.
'Just like my previous life? Is this the work of fate?'
"You were going to name her Cecilia?" Martha finally paid attention to her husband as she raised her brows.
"What? It sounds good doesn't it?" Abraham asked in puzzlement. What had he gotten wrong this time?
"Do you know what that name means?" His wife asked with a small chuckle.
"What? What does it mean?" The husband couldn't take it anymore.
"It means blind Abraham. You were going to name our child blind."
"What isn't Maria just the same? Doesn't Maria mean bitter!?" Abraham finally recalled and quickly denounced her allegations.
"That's the name of my grandmother so it's ok." Martha turned her head away.
"..."
"Maria." The long forgotten boy smiled brightly as he looked at his little sister. His name was Arthur Springfield, the two-year-old son of the royal family.
