[78.5] Mystery POV: Compassion

[Author's note: This part of the chapter is from a "mystery" character's perspective.]

My feet swayed as I sat on a tree limb. My pale blue eyes were stuck on the ground below.

When I saw a child running towards my tree wearing a simple white dress, I jumped down and produced a small sword made from Holy light. The child who was two years younger panicked and fumbled to make a small knife of Holy light.

I pursed my lips watching the child stumble.

How did she even get this far?

I flipped the blade to hit the child with the dull end.

After a few bruises, the child was crying, "Please don't kill me!"

But I'm hitting you with the dull end?

I blinked in confusion, "Are you getting cut?"

The child paused, "...No."

"So why are you crying? This exercise is to make you a better fighter."

The child looked up in confusion, "But the others… They were killed. They want to kill us."

I paused as a momentary memory flash passed through my pale blue eyes.

Ah yes…

They killed my comrades back then too…

Just two years ago, I was in a similar situation as the child in front of me.

I tilted my head, "What number are you?"

The child answered, "Number 7548."

My eyes lowered somberly, "They are already at that number…"

"What do the numbers mean?"

It's better not to know.

I didn't answer and instead pointed my sword, "You can't get past me unless you defeat me."

The child heard this and immediately turned around to run away. I watched her run but didn't chase. 

From the beginning, I only decided to prevent anyone from getting past me.

I'm not like the others in my class.

How could I kill such small children?

Don't they remember what it felt like to be hunted down?

Why would they want to do the same?

I leaned against the tree and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of the forest.

It was only in moments like these that I understood the word peace.

Over the next few days, I stayed in my spot, playing with my Holy Magic.

My eyes watched as a dozen short swords flew around in the air, stabbing into the trees and slashing leaves without me having to hold them.

I played around until I heard the sounds of distant bells.

*Ding dong*

It's time to head back.

I stood up and hopped onto a sword, flying quickly back to the temple. Once I landed, I was greeted by a priest glaring at me.

That's never a good thing.

He spoke in a venomous tone, "For what reason did you have for letting so many go without killing them?"

I lowered my head, "They are children."

…Is what I wanted to say.

But I would never dare talk back to a priest.

I opted to say nothing instead.

"For years we have tried gently to get rid of that filthy compassion of yours. I told you over and over, that only the Holy Goddess is allowed to be that compassionate. You don't get to decide who lives, only she does."

"Yes."

"Now to prepare for punishment."

I entered the blood-filled room and noticed the nails sticking out of the wood. I kneeled down on it, wincing from the sharp metal digging into my skin. The priest didn't even wait for me to get used to the pain before he started whipping me.

Each lash ripped apart my skin and clothes, however, my body healed without leaving a scar.

After the priest got tired, I was sent to my room where I was locked inside.

There were no windows, only darkness and an old worn-out bed used by many before me.

Bored, I held my palm out and created a ball of Holy Light. I played with it, tossing it up into the air and catching it. With the flex of my wrists, it scattered into several small balls of light and rose to the ceiling. I stared at those twinkling lights feeling as if I was looking at the stars.

I let out a sigh, "How beautiful…"

My eyes closed and soon those lights faded out once I fell asleep.

*Ding dong*

My eyes jolted open and I hurried out of bed. I made it quickly and placed on a new pair of robes and stood at the foot of my bed. I stared at the handle, wondering if I would be let out today.

It had been several days without food or seeing another person. 

I only had the faint light leaking in through the cracks in the door.

I heard footsteps and lowered my head, however, they moved past my room.

Not today either, I guess.

I remained standing for a few more hours until I heard a pair of footsteps coming to my door. I knew the other girls were gone by now so it had to be for me.

I lowered my head as the door was unlocked and opened. A pair of footsteps entered and an alluring voice I had never heard spoke, "So this is her?"

"Yes, my lord." The leading priest answered, "This is her."

"Hmmm. How interesting." A pair of footsteps came into my lowered view, "Give me your hand."

I gave my hand over and felt something hit my wrist bone. I stifled a startled scream as my eyes caught sight of my missing hand and blood rushing from my wrist.

What…

What-

The blood ceased and a hand started to regrow. I watched in horror as it materialized slowly just like a flower budding.

It…

It hurts…

"Wow!!!" The man laughed as if he had heard a good joke, "You weren't joking. Her body is capable of restoration and there isn't even a mark left."

The priest spoke politely, which showed just how important this man was, "Yes. She must have inherited her body from her father-"

My face was suddenly grabbed and forced to look at him. My eyes widened when I finally saw the man who had just cut off my hand.