₊ 𖦹﹕𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗦𝗬𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗦！(🩸)

⩩ ┊❝ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐞 ❞

第二章 . . . 000
@/mxtsuro | AO3 & Wattpad
Myrddin Emrys © 2025

﹒  ◠  METEMPSYCHOSIS    ⊹    ﹒
— “ reincarnation ” !
Your memory is a monster; you forget---it doesn’t. It simply files things away. It keeps things for you, or hides things from you---and summons them to your recall with will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you!”
★ . John Irving » +

೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐞 ⠀ᰋ

Fuyuki City
5th of September 2004, 12:00 PM

           It was a quiet afternoon in Rin’s manor. The light of the midday sun filtered gently through the windows, casting soft, golden beams across the room. The scent of old books and polished wood filled the air, a tranquil ambiance that contrasted sharply with the tensions of the ongoing war outside. In the study, Romani sat at the large wooden desk, his amber eyes skimming across the pages of an ancient tome, one hand turning the fragile paper with a delicate, practiced motion. The traveler's cloak still covered his face, the hood casting a shadow over his features, though his presence remained warm and comforting, as if a sense of calm emanated from him.

           Nestled in his lap was Galateya, her small body curled up against him. She had dozed off after a brief lesson on magic, her soft blue eyes now closed in peaceful slumber. Her hands clutched a corner of Romani’s cloak, her breathing slow and rhythmic. Despite the strangeness of her circumstances, she seemed, for now, at peace.

           Romani, ever the vigilant guardian, continued to read, but his attention never fully drifted from the small girl in his lap. He was aware of her fragile state---both physically and mentally---and he worried for her, though he never voiced it. This child, so young and innocent, had become entwined in a world far darker than she could understand. The traveler could not help but feel protective of her, even if his own role in this war remained shrouded in mystery.

          The quiet murmur of voices reached Romani’s ears. Archer and Saber were speaking softly nearby, their conversation measured and deliberate. The bow-wielding male, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, wore his usual stoic expression, while the blonde knight, ever composed, stood tall and dignified, engaging in tactical discussion. The war may have temporarily paused within the walls of this manor, but outside, the battle continued, and they both knew it. Their words, though indistinct, carried a weight of seriousness that echoed through the manor’s halls.

           As Romani turned the page of his book, Galateya stirred in his lap. Her face, once peaceful, contorted with discomfort. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and her small hands tightened their grip on his cloak. Her dream was vivid---far too vivid for a child of her age. In the dream, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood. A battlefield stretched out before her, an endless sea of corpses---ancient warriors clad in armor, their swords still clenched in cold, lifeless hands. The ground beneath her feet was scorched, the remnants of fire licking at the edges of the earth. The sky above was dark, choked with smoke, and the scent of lilies hung heavily in the musky air, fluttering unnaturally among the chaos.

           In the midst of this devastation, she was not alone. A figure stood beside her, their form slightly blurry but unmistakable. They had long, wavy blonde hair that flowed past their shoulders, and ocean-blue eyes that seemed to pierce through the haze of the battlefield. Their androgynous features were serene, calm, as if untouched by the horror surrounding them. Despite the chaos, they held her hand gently, pulling her through the destruction as though guiding her through a nightmare. Galateya could feel the heat of the flames and the weight of death all around her. The bodies of the fallen warriors lay motionless, their faces obscured by smoke and shadow. But the figure beside her, with their ethereal presence, did not waver. They did not speak, not at first, but there was a strange comfort in their touch, as if they were protecting her from the horrors of this broken world.