Aura of the Moon

Ayla never imagined she would need to hide her face in Shanaine, the Imperial capital. Simply traversing the roads on the way to the cathedral steps was met with hostile crowds of people and she had even seen effigy’s burned in her image. She wore a hood over her long, dark hair and pulled it particularly close to cover her silver eyes. It was a colour that was stigmatised before, but her status added new context to that stigma. She did not understand the disdain at all. She had performed her duty as a Knight-Commander and aided the Crown Prince in his crusade. It was the last crusade that would need to be carried out within the Empire, so she found it strange that the people were ungrateful for their newfound safety. As she passed into an alleyway she ran into a group of wandering civilians carrying sticks. Males, heavy set with ragged appearances.

“Down with the Holy Order!” The lead figure called out as a greeting. Ayla passed by without saying a word.

“Hey!” The man called out, walking briskly after her to grab her shoulder.

“The hell’s wrong with you?” As he felt her shoulder underneath her cloak he grinned.

“Just as I thought. Hey, this one’s a Knight!” He announced.

“I thought he was shady.” One added just to pile on.

Ayla rolled her eyes. You didn’t even notice me until it was pointed out. She turned around and lowered her hood while lifting her chin to taunt the men with sticks.She was trying to avoid trouble to save time, but she was not afraid of it.

“Well?” She moved her cloak off to the side to flash the pommel of her holy sword. Each of the men exchanged nervous glances. Ayla smiled, noting that none were willing to advance. Cowards will call for the downfall of the Holy Order but who among them has the will to actually fight? She felt satisfied.

It’s like I thought. These people are completely- That thought was cut short by one of the men in the back picking up some rubble to hurl it at her. It collided with her Aura a foot from her head and bounced off. Ayla began to draw while centering her eyes on the man.

“Attacking a Knight of the Empire is a sentence.” It was not a warning, because she truly intended to kill the man. It would be easy and she had justification to do so. She stopped as the others closed around the man to protect him.

“You’ll have to kill all of us. Not that it’ll be anything new for you, right? Silver-eyed witch.” Ayla clicked her tongue in annoyance and ceased the draw of her sword. She began making her way to her destination a little faster while hiding her face once again. She heard taunting and shouting after her as more rubble from behind collided with her Aura.

“A reckoning is coming!”

Ayla found her way to the Cathedral square. She knew a sermon was going to be held in honour of their accomplishments during the crusade. She could trust the Church of Sol to offer the proper respect for their efforts, because the Church was wholly in the pocket of the Emperor and the Crown Prince. She knew it well. The Church through political ties and the supposedly independent Holy-Knight Order, led by her, was completely loyal to the Crown Prince. She was waiting for him at the Cathedral, on top of listening to the sermon. She began pushing her way to the front of the crowd.

The Grand Chaplain of Sol led the sermon in his white and gold robes. Aside from the Imperial family and the highest members of the clergy, white and gold could not be worn at the same time. It was a status symbol.

“Allow me to begin with a prayer to Sol, the almighty.” The Chaplain opened his arms wide and stared up at the sky. His faith was denoted by his ability to look upon the sun itself without pain or injury.

“Sol bless these lands with longer days and shorter nights. Allow shadeless light to be cast upon this world to eliminate the Night in all its brutal forms; not only in this Empire of Sol, but in all other kingdoms and lands.” Shadeless light was a concept that had risen to prominence in Ayla’s time. It was the concept that a pure light need not cast a shadow, in contrast to those that would suggest balance by offering the fact that even Sol casts a shadow. It removed compromise from the ideology.

“Corruptive forces, for the first time in centuries since our Empire’s glorious expansion from the Original Chapel, thrive only outside of this Empire’s borders; not within.” The crowd cheered. It was a stark contrast to the crowds protesting in the streets outside the square. It had something to do with the blocking of the square by Knights and soldiers.

“Demons, Vampires, Werewolves, Goblins and Orcs have all fallen before our Crown Prince, Small Sun of the Empire, Caelin Dagda Luachaire.” Only Caelin’s name was spoke, but that was to be expected.

He’s the main character. Ayla admitted, looking to her left where two Nobles were whispering in response to the sermon.

“The Prince can not let this stand.” One muttered.

“The Crusade was good overall, but too much was committed to its completion and too much is left to question.” The other leaned over to remark while keeping his eyes forward.

“When it comes down to it, the answer is to punish the Holy Order.”

“And that woman, too.”

Ayla sneered. `Bold to talk about the Holy Order in the Cathedral Square.

The first man she heard ended the hushed conversation by saying. “Even my subjects are complaining. But, if it’s that woman and the Holy Order that gets punished alone for the atrocities this could all be swept under the rug.”

“Out with the old, in with the new, hmm?” The other Noble chuckled.

Ayla felt a bit disquieted. The crowd surrounding them continued to cheer shallowly. Near the back however there were people that hung their heads. More that were whispering and spreading rumours. Ayla stepped away from the sermon.

I have a feeling they aren’t going to mention me at all. That’s fine. Ayla truly felt that way.

Caelin wandered up beside her, also cloaked to hide his appearance. “Sorry for the lack of mention. Rest assured, even Nealin was left out. Nothing personal.” Caelin assured her. He was the First Prince. The Imperial-Knights Order Commander that she had trained, studied and bled with at the Imperial Academy, and over the course of the series of wars and conflicts grouped into what was simply called ‘the crusade.’ He acknowledged Ayla’s skill and usefulness despite her being of common origin. She had long since shed that stigma when she was set to become a Marchioness of some land taken from the last enemy they defeated together. A traitor Lord. She had even gained her own last name to accompany the title she was given; otherwise, for the past ten years Ayla had simply been Ayla, even when she was the Holy Knight-Commander. She bowed her head and crossed her right arm over her chest diagonally in salute.

“I greet the Crown Prince.”

Caelin was disappointed by the stiff greeting. “Always so formal.” Caelin carried the Emperor's appearance and manner and only looked more like the man as time passed. Ayla could see a reflection of the Emperor in the First Prince with his short, cherry blonde hair and golden eyes that belonged to the Imperial bloodline. He was a head taller than her and had filled out his build over the course of their many wars and operations with a welcome amount of muscle, though he still maintained his lithe shape.

“How could I not be? I am still a servant of the Empire.” She knew that Caelin was disappointed that she began to treat him differently after she left the Academy as a graduated Knight, however she could not ignore his status compared to her outside the Academy walls. Hierarchy was hierarchy. As much as he wished for it to be otherwise, Ayla considered herself a servant, and Caelin her better.

His smile nearly cracked. “Have you considered what we talked about?”

She nodded solemnly and explained. “I have no interest in political power. I know it is an honour for Commoner-turned-noble to become a concubine but that's not a position I am after. I accomplished my goal of avenging my family. I am going to live quietly. Probably take on a few students into my old age and hunt on the borders of the March. Though, I will naturally use all at my disposal to support you should the need arise.”

“It's just a position to you?” He asked, a sudden coldness washing over him.

“I see. You know, here within the Cathedral Square people are cheering, and if they protest they protest meekly. However, outside they refer to a silver-eyed witch. A monster among those claiming to be holy.”

“Your Highness?”

He wore his smile once more. “The award ceremony is tonight. You will get everything that's coming to you there.” He looked at her very pointedly as he said to her.

“You should understand that I’ve done everything I could for you.” Ayla nodded. After a momentary pause while he searched for any emotion from her he sighed and waved his hand flippantly.

“It's hard to believe ten years ago we were both just graduates. Then the incident with your family happened and-”

“Say no more. I still think about it. It was the reason behind everything I have done so far.” He seemed to get an unusual enjoyment out of that sentence. She gave a curt bow. As soon as she left the Second Prince appeared in her way. He was a skilled mage and the leader of the Aura-Knight Division. Aura-Knight was a class of Knight that was allowed to utilise Aura, despite the closeness it placed one to Demons. Only those with minds emotionally and intelligently strong were allowed to utilise Aura freely. Those who showed potential, but a lack of quality would be silenced by the Church; meaning their Aura would be cut off by an insidious kind of poison that was known only to high ranking members. The second Prince was a man of pale complexion with fiery orange hair to match his late mother's. He was conscious of his freckled face and was therefore known as a man who wore makeup, though no one would ever be brave enough to point it out within earshot. He blocked Ayla's path with his lithe build. Robes draped over his form to make him look bigger than he actually was.

“Oh dear! Is it my lucky day?”

“I assume you were spying on our conversation?”

The Second Prince winked slyly. “I just guessed based on the fact that he is walking off in another direction sulking that you refused him. Can I take it to mean-”

Ayla raised her hands in a stopping motion. The attention was making her flush. “Your Highness, I am not planning to 'join' with anyone. I do not have that kind of need.”

The Second Prince, Nealin frowned. “Are you sure?” Something felt foreboding about those simple words, but Ayla trusted Caelin and Nealin implicitly. They were by her side throughout the entire crusade. They had shed blood together countless times. The three of them together had completely rid the Empire of Monsters for the second time in history. It was her life's purpose after her Father and Brother died.

“Ayla, you... Understand that wheels are turning in the Palace due to efforts outside of it?” He motioned his thin hand towards himself.

“I know Caelin’s mercy better than anyone. If you refuse it you will lose his consideration and you do not want it to be left up to the Emperor.”

Ayla sighed. “When we fought the last Vampire, Duke Castezin... There were so many people in that household that pleaded their innocence to the end. But everyone claims their innocence. Is it because some people don't understand the lengths we had to go to to clear the Empire completely? I feel like anything that happens from this point on is fine.” She shrugged evenly.

“I have accomplished my goals.”

Nealin looked at Ayla like she was crazy. “Sometimes I really can’t tell if you know nothing, or too much.” The Prince smirked.

“I agree with you, though. They were serving a Vampire so there was no helping it, right?” He winked, which confused Ayla. The confusion amused him, because it suggested the former was true in his first statement. Nealin shook his head.

“I suppose many of them would not even know that they had been corrupted and brainwashed. That is the excuse. However... More troubling is what is happening outside. Those who are protesting seem to be looking for someone to blame, Ayla.” Nealin hinted.

Ayla nodded. “I will leave that to you both as I always have. I am sure Caelin has a good idea on how to proceed.”

“Haha... Some decisions are made easier than others. I will see you at the award ceremony.”

“I will. I need to be there, at the very least. It will also be my first event as a Noble.”

“Any regrets, looking back?” Nealin asked the out-of-place question out of curiosity.

Ayla thought deeply but as was the case with reflection for her, the only answer she could arrive at was. “I do not know. I have not really thought about it.”

Nealin let out one final chuckle and gave her a curt bow. “Never change, my dear 'Noble' comrade.”

Later that night Ayla wore her uniform as the Holy Knight-Commander to the banquet; she had worn dresses before, but found no reason to wear one in this instance. The ceremony was set up to reward all of the figures that were pivotal in the completion of the crusade. As soon as she entered the palace the third prince rushed to her with a bundled up sword. She recognized the white and gold cloak it was wrapped in as her own from her full armour and smiled gently at him.

“Your Highness.” She bowed.

“Ayla! Why'd you leave your sword with my attendant?” He asked in a concerned tone. The third prince was about as old as her brother would have been if he had lived. With her closeness to the First and Second Princes she wound up becoming something of a mentor to the Third without intending to be. He never accompanied them, he only heard stories second hand, so his eyes were always washed with admiration when he saw her. Out of all the brothers, even if Prince Salem was the youngest and she had not fought alongside him, she was able to feel a closeness with him that she could not with the other two. It was why she left her sword with him. It was a Sword that was important to the crusade, and therefore a shame to let it leave the Capital. All she needed was a strong sword of any kind and she guessed that her sword specifically would mean more to him than it did to her.

May motivate him to practise more. She relayed as much to him.

“I am leaving it to you. You will use it as soon as you become a graduated Knight like your older brothers. I hope you will make it yours. Keep me in mind when you use it. Or don’t.” Ayla shrugged.

“Does this mean-”

“I am not retiring. I am just moving to a new hunting ground. The March bordering Orcitanaea was given to me.”

“You're leaving? Why didn't you tell me?” The Prince was saddened by the News, but unlike the other Princes who seemed to show perturbation at her choice, Salem just smiled softly and let out a slight sigh. He was happy for her.

“I understand, though. You deserve a rest, Ayla. Don't just keep doing the same thing. Try some rest and relaxation.” He looked at her with big eyes. He did not say it, but she could read his thoughts through his expression.

“If you want to visit my land at the march I would be honoured to give you some more pointers.” She resisted the urge to rustle his short curly blonde hair, since it would technically be a Sin to touch him without permission.

He looked at her impishly. “What if I ordered Father to have you return and teach me?”

“I would not refuse.” Ayla admitted flatly, prompting Salem to offer a guilty look.

“I was joking, of course.”

Ayla nodded. If her little brother was alive, she hoped he would be like Prince Salem. A dovish boy just shy of his coming of age ceremony. He did not lack skill due to his light demeanour; on the contrary, he showed potential. He had light blonde hair and shared the green eyes of his mother.

“May I see you inside, Marchioness?” He held out his arm.

“Of course, your Highness.” She bowed and took it, entering as a lady despite her uniform.

The hall where the banquet was taking place was one of the many palaces inside the Imperial residence. People were already dancing and there was atmospheric string instrument music wafting through the hall and out into the night. A servant came to retrieve Salem with a whisper into his ear. “Ah, I should try and find Mother. Meet me after the ceremony, Ayla. Don’t just leave, alright?” He knew her well enough to know that he had to ask.

Ayla watched him go, then bowed and saluted as the First and Second Prince met her by the door. “I greet the Imperial Princes.”

“Lighten up, Ayla.” Caelin chided, handing her a flute of bubbling white liquid.

“But-” She abstained from as a Holy Knight throughout most of her life. She had only tasted it once or twice before she took her vows and it was with Caelin.

Nealin laughed and pointed at her in a teasing manner. “You're about to quit the Holy Knights. How about I gift you with a bottle, as well? All there will be to do day-by-day is drink and get fat on your property.” He said jovially. There was a common hint of mischief in his eye as he said it, though she was not sure why it had snuck in at that moment.

“I suppose you're right.” She looked down at the bubbling drink before bringing it to her lips.

“Ah! It bites my tongue.” She covered her mouth. After the carbonation the taste hit her.

“And it's sweet. I feel like you have introduced me to something dangerous.” She remarked.

Nobles drink this all the time? She stared into the clear liquid, sensing an odd note.

The Crown Prince grinned, stuffing his hands into the jacket pockets of his white and gold suit. “You have no idea how right you are. Care to join us to talk about a private matter away from the guests?”

“Of course.” She followed the two men, taking the glass with her and sipping from it along the way. They lead her into a dark hallway adjacent to the Palace garden. Moonlight was the only thing that lit their meeting space.

“What did you need to talk to me about?”

“It's actually about the of your Father and Brother.” Caelin mentioned casually.

Ayla nodded. “I suppose this all started after that. I had not really felt any drive to do anything before that point. Why bring them up now, though?”

“Do you really not know?” He looked at her. Nealin stood in the background observing with an impish grin.

“I am not sure what you are referring to, Your Highness.”

“On that day, a monster didn’t kill your father and brother. The fires that we lit killed them.” He admitted. Her eyes widened in shock, but oddly, it did not affect her as much as either Caelin or Nealin expected. He continued.

“It was easy to say that the bodies were burned after, because that’s protocol. However, the simple fact of the matter is that the little home belonging to your family was burned without much thought as a way to kill the monster inside. Your family was collateral.” He sighed.

“That being said… I actually had no idea they were your family. It was a strange coincidence.” Caelin inspected her and noted her flat expression. Muted surprise and contemplation.

“Do you… Feel anything from knowing that?” It was almost like he was begging her to feel something.

Ayla looked down. The shaking of her hand could be mistaken as her being shaken, but she did not feel particularly emotional over the fact he presented. So much time had passed. The of her family was a decade ago, and she had killed many people in similar ways to how Caelin described. She gritted her teeth, an odd pain shooting through her veins while bile rose up in her stomach. She tried to breathe slowly and think.

I didn’t really like Father all that much, and I know Brother and Father didn’t like me. But I did care about them. I did mourn them at the time. The thought of how they died was frustrating. She opened her eyes and moved her gaze around the dark room in idle contemplation..

It is frustrating. Thinking about the time I could’ve had with them that was lost. Time where I could’ve done something to show them I can be good. Would them being alive improve me in some way? Her hand rose to rub her brow. She was beginning to sweat profusely and her face was becoming red as well.

Good… Was- am I good? I don’t even think it was wrong for them to die the way that they did. It makes sense. It probably had to happen… But it’s frustrating. I wouldn’t have this consideration for anyone else. Slowly, with some effort she began to imagine herself in the place of the many children that wept over the parents she killed as a way to contextualise what she was feeling. It was surprising and confusing that she could find some pain in it for herself only after imagining herself in someone else's position. It was something she barely ever thought to do.

Thinking back, through all the years I’ve done this, most people mourn and feel sad. Most people want their relatives to be saved, even if it doesn’t make sense. I… Don’t, but now I am wondering if that makes me wrong? Was I wrong for ignoring the cries and the pleas of others just because they were experiencing a pain that I don’t get? Did I only not get it because I didn’t try? Her silver eyes became somewhat misty as she carried on with the sympathy exercise in her mind.

So frustrating. Even when it’s my own family I still have to struggle to feel something. But it is there, now that I’m trying to find it. Ayla stopped moving her pupils in thought and stared ahead blankly, almost through the First Prince.

“Well?” Caelin asked, sensing she was done and had something to say.

“I do feel something.” She offered in a vast understatement of her internal struggle.

“What a surprise.” There was no hint of sarcasm in his tone. He was surprised.

Ayla added. “I am something of a monster, aren’t I?”

Nealin laughed out loud, covering his face with his hand. “You’re realising it now!?”

Caelin shot his brother a withering stare before returning his gaze to Ayla. He looked upon her sympathetically.

“You had a disposition that made you very, very useful to me. It’s something that saved me numerous times.”

She noticed him speaking in past tense and looked down at the flute glass, nearly empty. “I am going to be punished for your sake, I am guessing? No… I already have been.”

Caelin inhaled before letting it out into a deep sigh. “I never understood it, because of how clever and observant you were. You weren’t just hired muscle. You were more. It’s like you have the demeanour of a statesman with the attitude of a pawn. No ambition, no drive to do anything with yourself. Everything you have is something I’ve given to you. Everything you’ve done is something I told you to do. If you were bad at anything, I wouldn’t even need to think about what I am doing right now.”

“What’s done is done.” Ayla shrugged, staring into the flute glass, swirling the liquid. The bile swelled to an intense degree in her stomach while her veins themselves felt like they were crawling beneath her skin, trying to get out. Ayla’s head was pounding and she felt tired and powerless.

“I suppose so.” Caelin nodded, watching her closely.

Ayla lifted her glass. Both Princes' eyes widened at the gesture. She dropped her practised, noble tone that she had adopted by being in proximity to the court. “I have no time left to improve myself, or to right any wrongs. I don’t even know where I would start. So much has been done already.” She drank the remaining liquid, curling her stomach.

“Ugh…” She almost threw up, but kept it down.

Caelin moved to her side and propped her up. He looked frustrated. “Come on, now… For some reason I was expecting you to get angry. It would’ve been easier if you were upset or hurt.”

She shook her head, feeling incredibly airy. “I can’t. I don’t think what you’re doing is wrong, necessarily.”

Caelin let her go with that, allowing her to fall to her knees. He looked down on her and asked.

“Not… Wrong?”

“It makes sense.” She offered weakly.

“I don’t want to be sacrificed like this, but I understand why it has to happen.”

Caelin shook his head. He was so shocked that he had to laugh. “Ayla, I’m betraying you. If you say it like that, I now feel like I have to owe you something.” He stared at her in thought.

“What is it you want?”

Ayla paused and closed her eyes to think. She was worried that any moment she could pass out, so she thought quickly. The poison running through her system was a dissipating agent for Soma. Not deadly, but she would lose all of her power.

“Do whatever you want, say whatever you want. I’ll go along with it. I just… Don’t want to die just yet. I want some time to think.”

The Prince nodded solemnly. “It’s a humble request. Originally this poison was just to make it easier for us to kill you. We thought there would be a fight and I wasn’t sure if I could activate my Shape faster than you could kill me.”

Ayla let out a frail chuckle. “I’m flattered.”

“You’ll have your time to think. It’ll leave some people unsatisfied, but I’ll deal with the consequences. How does that sound, Ayla?” Ayla smiled and nodded to him. She collapsed.

When she opened her eyes she was still at the banquet, but she was being led down the carpet towards the throne. All around her she could hear gasps and the clacking of hard soled shoes and heels. She saw many Nobles from all across the Empire watching like it was a spectacle. Many were those who had been involved in the crusade, just not to the extent that she was. They were stunned, but also amused by the sight of her being dragged. She could hear them whispering among themselves.

“That’s the silver-eyed witch?”

“Father.” Caelin began in a showy tone.

“Dame Ayla, The Holy Knight-Commander confided in us that she has committed grave sins against the citizens of the Empire for her own pleasure, in excess of her duty. She acted alone, on no one's orders to carry out atrocities against the empire’s citizens.”

She nodded her head. 'It is true enough. Just barely a lie. Your orders.' She looked to her left a nobleman that had inherited some of the land that was taken from a ‘monsterous’ Marquis during the crusade. To her right a Baron whose business flourished when the competitors were taken out. A coincidence, to be sure.

Nealin picked up where his brother left off. “The Dame confessed and it is a fact, no matter how grave her sins were, that her acts were committed in service of the Empire. Her soul is blackened, but her intent was just and she has expressed a desire for repentance.”

The Emperor rested his head on his palm, barely lifting himself from the lazy position he was seated in. “Typically the remedy to grave Sins against citizens of this Empire is .” His voice boomed. There was a knowing glimmer in the Emperor's eyes. The man was the spitting image of Caelin, only with matted skin and greying hair and beard.

Caelin interjected. “That's why she requests permission to be isolated within a convent for what remains of her life after being silenced. Dame Ayla has decided to seek enlightenment and forgiveness through prayer for all that she has done.”

She could not speak to refute any word that was being said and she was being held up, so she could not even move. She did not even want to refute any of it. The Emperor spoke.

“The devotion of making the vow and sealing one's power shows the resolve of Dame Ayla. However, if all she seeks is repentance through meditation her tendons shall be cut so that it is truly all she is able to do.”

“Father, this mercy was the most Dame Ayla said that she could expect. If she could speak she would thank you for your generosity.” Nealin explained solemnly.

“Bullshit!” Ayla heard a voice. It was Salem's. He burst in through a side door and brushed past numerous nobles before he was caught by the Imperial Knights.

“Dame Ayla is a good person! If she is going to be punished then-”

“Enough!” The Emperor boomed.

Caelin shouted down his younger brother. “You disrespect Ayla’s confession, Salem. You are too young to understand the resolve of a Knight.” He looked to the Emperor.

“Father, I will take responsibility for Salem’s lack of education and order more tutors to teach him imperial justice.”

“Have him get some air.” The Emperor nodded, waving his hand coldly. The Third Prince was dragged out with a hand over his mouth as he tried to shout and curse in Ayla’s favor..

Ayla lowered her head and sighed. 'Not that I have a choice, but... I will absorb the weight of their sins. Because mine are heavy, anyway. There are times when I killed and fought for fun. I ignored all but the parts of scripture that helped me and I did everything I was told, no matter how cruel.' She conceded.

'I really do need time to ask for forgiveness and think about what allowed me to do these things.'

A year had passed in the small room she was sent to exist in upon her own request. Ayla laid in bed staring at the ceiling. Her body had all but withered away without her Soma. She had to think, just as she desired. With all the time she had to herself she contemplated her attitude, her lack of empathy, her own lack of drive. Not only a lack of drive but the will to do whatever the Prince asked her to do whenever he asked, regardless of what it was. She could casually kill, casually watch others be killed. Allies could fall and she would care to the same extent as an enemy. She never bothered questioning her behaviour. There were only a few hints throughout the ten years that she was different, but she was never prompted to change. Her own conscience wouldn’t, and Caelin was happy to use her as she was. It was actually a good life, if she thought about it. She lived far better than anyone else who had committed the acts that she had done. Every day she went over the same thoughts in a sequence, since there was nothing else. Counting the stones on the wall felt pointless.

'Now that I know how Hal and Father died by Caelin’s hand... Do I consider it wrong or unjust?' It took months of reflection to come to a conclusion.

'I always thought it had to do with monsters. Cursed people. A cursed person touched my family and killed them, even if Caelin was the torch. But... If it were my family I would want to take extra steps just to make sure. Not much to ask for some stay of execution before we figured it out for sure… I never considered such a thing for other people. I simply decided that they were a risk and took logical steps to end it, as Caelin did with Father and Brother. Because I did not care.` It was easy to admit she did not care. It was obvious in everything she had done so far.

'Knowing that definitely won't secure me a place in heaven, but at least now I know why I am going to hell. I hope Father and Brother are in Heaven. I do not think I would want to meet them after everything I did.' Many months passed thinking about the afterlife, and how much all of her sins weighed her down to an inevitable, permanent stay in the worst layer of hell. Would she do anything different was a question she spent much of the time thinking about. It was an interesting fantasy to her who had nothing to entertain herself.

'Protecting people instead of harming them. Fixing problems instead of removing them. Curbing my... Darker tendencies.' She took comfort in imagining a world where she would have tried to be a better person.

'I am actually becoming content imagining a world where I try to do the right things. But how likely is that? If someone like me could change I would have done so in this life. Most people aren’t met with an epiphany, right? Most people somehow know that something is right and wrong. I am a person that did not hold empathy until I tried.' She felt tired near the end.

'I don't even know if what I’m feeling is empathy, or just regret... If I continued on as I was I wouldn’t feel anything at all from the things I’ve done, but most people feel regret as soon as they do something bad.' As a full year had passed and she had thought through almost everything she had wished to sort out in her mind she began to think about the end, and how much she wanted to meet it finally.

'Punishment in this life is just the beginning. When I do die my regret and remorse will truly be tested. So I just want to die already and get to it.`

The door eventually opened for the last time. It was not the usual maid in charge of feeding and tending to her, but a hooded figure, small in stature with a familiar sword at his waist and wisps of curly blonde hair poking from the hood. It was drenched in blood. He looked at her and choked. He swayed in place for a moment, then curled his arms under her wasted away form to carry her out of the Convent. She could see bodies of soldiers and Sisters lining the halls.

“I know you can't speak so just listen-” Ayla was shocked to hear Salem's voice, and to see what he had done for her. He was bloodied and wounded. It was a misguided attempt to rescue her. Surely Caelin told him it was her own choice, but Salem likely refused to believe the crimes were real.

Ayla had always been kind to Salem, more so than anyone else. For some reason, when he was a child she was more capable of listening to him and did feel some form of empathy towards him out of a conscious effort to do so. To Salem who had not joined them in the crusade, Ayla was a Hero. It was the worst thing for him to believe because it drove him to what he had done.She could not speak for lack of trying over the course of a year, so she mouthed the words in an attempt to explain to him that she should not be saved, and that whatever he was suffering was wasted on her.

“I- I thought I would be able to come and end things for you, but I knew the moment I saw you that I should save you, instead. It’s what a good Knight would do, right? Save the princess?” He chuckled weakly. Salem was the polar opposite of her and Caelin in every way. Ayla shook her head adamantly and tried to tell him to leave.

'He can’t escape with me... He doesn't have the strength or the skill. If he leaves he stands a chance of getting away. Dying by him would be a mercy, but I do not want him to bloody his hands on me. Dammit Salem, please understand.' She tried to mouth the words to tell him she was fine..

“You're begging me, but I... Always had trouble listening.” He smiled brightly. In one of the first instances in her life she felt genuine emotion as his intent reached her, and his inevitable fate dawned on her. The wound in his stomach. Tears filled her eyes, nearly blinding her. Salem tried to sooth her as he carried her.

“I'll take you to a small house in a place outside the Empire. You wont get all your strength back but you’ll be set up with a good maid. Sorry... You won't be able to take on any students and I doubt I'll be able to show up and ask for pointers.”

'Salem... This is regret. I can feel it. It hurts. It’s real and I can feel it, but why now? Why at the end of it all?' She lamented.'

As they were almost out Ayla felt something warm splatter into her eye. She looked to see a sharp bolt poking through Salem's chest from the back.

“Get him! Kill him!” The sounds of soldiers getting closer.

“S-sorry...” Salem grunted, dropping Ayla and falling on top of her as a few more bolts flew through his chest. He bled over top of her as Ayla looked up helplessly. Her eyes stared into his as he drew her old sword.

“I guess this is all I can do.” He coughed, losing consciousness. He brought the blade to her neck, but before he could swipe it he fell over her, his weight binding her.

'So heavy...' She could hear the sound of the men approaching. They would bring her back to the room. She was done living, but she could live for years more. They could see to that. With what she was feeling she could not stand to be alive for that long. In her last moments she sorted through her most important thoughts.

'Salem I am so sorry. If I could do this all over again... I would try to help the people I hurt most. I would myself to care for people even when I don’t. I would try to understand what they are feeling, even if I can’t. I would never get involved with the Royal Family to spare you the horrible fate of loving me. Look what being close to me has done to you... Poor Salem.' She gripped the handle with all her strength and pulled it. As she did, the sharpness of the sword did all the work in cutting her thin, frail neck. As the soldiers surrounded them Ayla and Salem bled out together.

'Most importantly; Holy Knight? Never again...'