FIVE YEARS AFTER: AIZ WALLENSTEIN
It was a dream.
Aiz could tell immediately.
She was a little older now, on the road with Riveria. Somewhere other than Orario. They traveled over rolling hills, through stunning vistas, and toward windmilled villages on the horizon. The sky overhead was peaceful, blue, and mild.
Aiz and Riveria smiled at each other like mother and child.
A happy dream.
It was a dream.
Aiz could tell immediately.
A slightly more mature Aiz sat outside a café, chatting with Tiona, Tione, and Lefiya. Tiona was laughing like she always did. Tione was still chasing after the man of her dreams. And Lefiya was sipping tea gracefully from a ceramic cup.
Aiz was happy, watching them all, wearing a smile more mellow than ever before.
A gentle dream.
It was a dream.
Aiz could tell immediately.
She lay, bleeding, in the depths of the Dungeon, still and unmoving. As did her friends Finn, Riveria, Gareth, Tiona, Tione, Bete, and Lefiya—her entire familia.
The evils of the Dungeon had claimed them all, draining their life and annihilating them.
Aiz shut her eyes, knowing it would be the last time.
A harrowing dream.
It was a dream.
Aiz could tell immediately. It was too strange to be real.
Aiz was an adult and had become a queen.
She ruled deep in a secluded forest, over a fairy village built into a holy spring. There she sat atop her throne, stone-faced, like a doll, as identityless fairies flew through the air or played in the spring waters, cheering her reign. Draped only in white cloth, with a crown of ivy atop her head.
She said, “Whee,” raising her staff and emitting a strange light as she frolicked with the joyous sprites.
Aiz nearly spluttered herself awake.
An incomprehensible dream.
Was this a dream?
At first, Aiz couldn’t tell.
There were swords, spears, axes, staffs, and shields stuck into the wasteland like grave markers. Aiz was surrounded by them.
One of her arms had been torn off. One of her eyes had been plucked out. She was full of holes and covered in blood. Surrounded by half-disintegrated weapons, she faced the darkness alone.
With fierce determination in her one good eye, Aiz raised her sword high. She spat blood and screamed her heart’s greatest wish as the storm winds rose, and her silver sword shone.
But, like blowing out a candle, a wave of darkness stole her away—and that was it. The dream fell apart.
To Aiz, that terrible dream was far more compelling than any other. As if she knew that was the one that awaited her…The fate she could never avoid.
Eventually, once all the other dreams receded, Aiz had another dream.
It was a person.
As she kneeled, Aiz looked up to see a person standing before her, their back turned.
She didn’t know why, but she knew who they were.
It was a hero who fought for her sake.
Softly, quietly, Aiz awoke. A shaft of light peeked through white curtains. Outside, she heard the songs of little birds. It was morning.
Aiz didn’t remember her dreams in detail, but she recalled feeling happy, sad, and confused.
What was waiting for her five years down the line? Ten? Twenty?
Aiz got up, grabbed her sword, unsheathed it, and stood like a knight, eyes closed.
Then the swordswoman opened the door, ready to take one more step toward her future, whatever it may be.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login