WOSE Chapter 19

She dreamed.

No—for the woman she had once been, it was reality, so calling it a dream would be inaccurate.

Yes. She endured a wretched recollection.

The first moment she faced the darkness.

Pushed forward by expectations, the woman stood before the darkness. The darkness she witnessed for the first time looked like the inside of a ghost's mouth, or perhaps the entrance to hell.

They'd said it devoured the world, that it was a symptom of the star dying, so she'd imagined a black hole. But the darkness possessed no strong gravitational field, nor did it pull the surroundings toward it.

It was simply pitch black, as if it could swallow even light. And it writhed like a living creature.

The darkness couldn't possibly have eyes. Yet as she stared into it, goosebumps crawled up her spine unbidden.

If she fell into that, invisible sharp teeth would chew her apart and swallow her into a place of no return.

Seized by instinct—no, by certainty—the woman trembled with fear.

The sense of responsibility she'd painstakingly built, her resolution, all crumbled like a sandcastle.

'Why should I be doing this? This isn't even my world. Is this really okay? And how can I trust their words? How can a person possibly absorb something like this...'

"Can't you do it?"

The voice had turned cold. Her mind snapped back to attention. Kelgrida's face, which had been full of kindness and affection, became indifferent in an instant.

"No! I, I can do it."

The woman hesitantly stepped toward the darkness.

Losing the first kindness, the first affection she'd ever received was more terrifying than shoving part of her body into something unknown.

Kelgrida's voice softened again.

"Nothing will go wrong. It will hurt a bit, though... I'll watch from beside you. I won't let it become dangerous, so don't worry."

The woman swallowed dry saliva and nodded weakly.

Yes. If she didn't trust them, who else could she trust? Besides, she had a duty to help Kelgrida, to save this world.

She pushed her pathetically trembling body into the darkness. The darkness slowly condensed around the woman, then began wrapping around her body like a snake.

The sensation was so unpleasant, so revolting, that strength drained from her legs and she nearly collapsed.

But the ordeal didn't end there.

The darkness that had coiled around her body began gathering at her left arm, and soon violent pain arrived.

"Ahhh!"

A terrible scream tore from her dry lips.

Her arm felt like it was burning to a crisp. No, like it was being crushed. No, it was definitely being shattered into pieces.

Otherwise it couldn't possibly hurt this much...

"Ah, ahh. It, it hurts!"

The woman clutched her arm and desperately raised her head to find someone to lean on.

But those who had pushed her here watched her from a distance, as if observing an insect writhing with its legs torn off.

Overwhelmed by indefinable shame and helplessness, the woman curled her body tightly. All she could do was press her forehead to the ground, panting, waiting for the pain to subside.

Only when the darkness had been fully absorbed into the area around her arm did they approach the woman.

"You didn't tell me purification was, was like this."

The woman sobbed, clutching her blackened arm.

She hadn't been told that the pain would make her want to faint, that she'd end up in such a hideous state. She'd heard nothing.

"If you'd known the details, you would have been more frightened. It couldn't be helped, for the Savior's sake."

...Was that true? Had it really been for her sake?

The woman tried desperately to understand her words with a mind soaked in pain and stripped of judgment.

Yes. If she'd known her arm would end up like this, she might have run away in fear.

So not explaining to her beforehand was the right choice.

"Don't worry about your arm. I'll make you an assistive device so it won't be inconvenient at all."

Rough hands gently wrapped around her shoulders.

'Someone who cares for me this much couldn't have done something harmful to me.' So her choice hadn't been wrong. The woman decided to believe that.

But pain doesn't decrease in inverse proportion to resolve, and the woman eventually lost consciousness.

And she was sick for a long time.

Fever rose until it felt like the fluids in her body were boiling, then she grew so cold her teeth chattered together.

All the while, the unsettled darkness rampaged through her wrist and forearm as if it wanted to burst through her skin right now.

Still, thanks to that aching pain, her hazy consciousness was occasionally dragged to the surface.

One day she thought she heard Kalix shouting at someone. Another day, she thought someone was holding her hand, saying they were sorry. Yet somehow, through all of it, she never heard Kelgrida's voice.

Her anxious consciousness soon sank somewhere into pitch-black darkness and drifted there for quite some time.

How long did she suffer?

Finally, when the darkness finished devouring her arm and grew quiet, the woman regained consciousness.

At the touch of a cold wet cloth, she barely managed to lift her eyelids. What filled her vision was an unfamiliar ceiling where crimson candlelight flickered, and Kelgrida's shadowed face looking down at her.

"Are you awake?"

'Yes. Kelgrida couldn't have not come for me.'

She was someone who would rush over in alarm even if the woman merely tripped on a stone.

She was someone who had leaped into a beast's jaws without hesitation to save her.

So she must have worried about her very much.

So...

"Thank goodness."

The murmured voice, the way she looked at her—it was exactly like looking at a stranger. That must just be her imagination.

...She would believe it was imagination.

The woman—no, 'Our One'—closed her eyes again with effort.

"Ahh!"

Iyu woke with a start, gasping urgently for breath. She hurriedly lifted her left arm. Smooth skin showed. Not hideous, not immobile.

Only then did she finally distinguish dream from reality. The terrible thing was the dream. Now was reality.

'Another nightmare.'

Since the regression, it wasn't particularly surprising.

Iyu exhaled her ragged breathing like a sigh and sat up from her body damp with cold sweat.

Tamia, who had claimed the spot beside the bedding purely through her own stubbornness, slept soundly.

She carefully climbed down from the bed so as not to wake the child, roughly slipped on her shoes, and headed to the window.

Outside was still dark as midnight. However, judging by the people occasionally passing on the lower floor and the savory food smells wafting up, it seemed to be early morning, just before daybreak.

As Iyu dried her sweat and discomfort in the fresh breeze leaking through the window, she suddenly felt hungry.

She'd barely eaten last night while listening to various stories, so naturally she was hungry.

'Should I go down?'

Iyu wiped her face with the wet cloth Tamia had prepared in advance and roughly combed through her tangled hair with her hand.

Then, instead of changing clothes, she casually threw on the shawl draped over a chair and left the room.

The corridor made of uneven sandstone pieces was quieter than expected. Her footsteps echoed in the silence.

She was descending the crude stone stairs while yawning when she encountered someone coming up.

"Odynne?"

Whether he'd just returned from morning prayer after arriving late last night or was only now coming home, she couldn't tell, but judging by his attire, he'd clearly been to the temple.

Iyu glanced over the priestly robes, neat as always even in the early morning, and smiled awkwardly.

Though she'd risen early, she felt oddly caught being lazy. Perhaps it felt that way because her own state was utterly raw.

"Did you go to the temple? Morning prayer?"

"Yes."

She'd greeted him quite brightly despite her embarrassment. But the response she got back was strange.

He couldn't hide his even more uncomfortable expression than usual and eventually averted his eyes as before.

"Um, did you eat breakfast?"

"...The celestials do not require meals."

"Ah, right. That's true."

Though he answered dutifully, his gaze remained fixed somewhere above her head.

She'd thought the distance between them had narrowed a bit since that night. Had she been mistaken?

Her sleep had been troubled enough—she didn't want to drain herself clinging to someone who clearly disliked her this early in the morning. Feeling somewhat offended, she likewise turned her gaze from him.

"Then I'll head down. Rest well."

But she had to stop before descending even one step. Surprisingly, Odynne had blocked her path.

Of course, still without meeting her eyes.

"...Do you have something to say?"

"Are you going down for breakfast?"

"Why?"

When he spoke, he showed his reluctance, but now that she'd noticed, why was he engaging?

When she asked back somewhat sullenly, he answered faster than usual.

"I'll have the meal sent up through the servant child, so it would be better if you ate in your room."