TBATE: Djinn's Theatre

Re-255: Next Message

The screen flickered as the words "Next Message" appeared on it. It quickly faded away to reveal the scene from the previous episode. It showed the roof of some huge room with Regis floating and Arthur lying down on the floor.

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Confusion gave way to surprise, then to anger.

"Why...?" I ground out through clenched teeth.

"Why what?" The will-o-wisp's light dimmed, and it twisted slightly in the air, like a dog tilting its head in confusion. I found the simplicity, the sentience of the expression infuriating.

"Why?!" I roared, funneling all my frustration, anger, and fear into the dry scream, feeling it tearing at my dehydrated throat but caring little in the moment. I lunged forward, taking a slow and painful swing at the black ball of flames.

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Everyone was taken aback by the sudden outburst of emotions. They had never seen Arthur this weak.

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My hand passed directly through the will-o-wisp, and I didn't have the strength to halt my forward momentum. I toppled forward, slamming my face hard on the smooth, cold floor.

"Hey, keep your hands to yourself, buddy!" the will-o-wisp snapped. "That is a major infringement of my bodily autonomy."

Heaving myself back up into a sitting position, I let my rage seethe and bubble within me as I stared at the spot on my left palm that Regis had come from.

"Why? Why the hell are you here now? After years of draining my mana, but doing nothing useful, why appear now?" I turned my glare on the black flame. "If you had come out earlier, I could've won. I could've saved everyone!" My voice cracked as I thought of my loved ones back on Dicathen, my vision blurring as tears welled up in my eyes.

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The raw emotions in Arthur's voice were too potent, spreading and affecting everyone in the theatre, through space and time.

Ellie was among the most affected. Tears welled up in Ellie's eyes. Her heart ached with feelings so intense she didn't know she could feel them. She could sense the sorrow in his face, the desperation, the anger, the despair and guilt and most of all, powerlessness. She wanted nothing else than to look away, and cut herself from these raw, unfiltered emotions, but she couldn't. Even in her pain, she grew more curious. She wanted to know the sides of him she didn't.

Varay's knuckles had turned white from clenching her fists. She has failed to save so many people that she felt ashamed to call herself a Lance. She could not save her soldiers in Slore, she couldn't protect her liege, and she couldn't even save her best friend Aya. Memories of her time in Beast Glades' hideout surfaced as if to remind her of her failures. Each day hiding was excruciating, to be living in a hole while her people were tortured, treated like a commodity and thrown around. She wished so many times to charge into a city to liberate it, even if it meant dying in battle, at least she would rid herself of the constant guilt eating her from the inside. There were also so many times she just wished to curl up in a corner and wait for someone to take care of all the bad things. She glanced at her fellow Lances, and their expressions told her that they too felt the same as her.

Even Lyra, who had been on the opposite side of this war, felt the same. Many people died in this war, on both sides. In the time she was Regent, she had seen many things. Unlike her peers who still say Dicathians as savages, she was disillusioned. She saw through the Vritra's propaganda. She saw that they were no different than the Alacryans. But what could she do? At the end of the day, she was a soldier in service of the Vritra and any actions against them would not only get her punished but also her friends and family in Alacrya. So she closed her eyes to the suffering and mindlessly followed the orders. Luckily, she doesn't have to anymore.