CHAPTER 124B: YOU REFLECTED IN THE MIRROR
While facing the witch who stares back at her from the mirror, Emilia sighs.
Composed solely of monochrome black and white, the WITCH OF GREED, Echidna. Having discovered Echidna in this dreamworld reproduction of her room, Emilia keenly feels that this truly is a place constructed from her own head.
A peaceful, tranquil, kind world where her life in the forest continued forever. A world where she could spend her days alongside Fortuna's, Juice's, Arch's, and everbody's smiles.
Emilia: “But that world doesn't exist, does it...”
Echidna: “Utterly not. This is a false world constructed with your memories and wishes as the basis. However, the world-arranging algorithms that precede over the TRIAL transcend human knowledge. The people you see in this world are most exactly who they would have been, had there been just one flick of the switch.”
Emilia has just remembered the truth the day of behind Elior Forest's freezing. Had there been no casualties back then, and the forest's tranquillity have been preserved, their lives would have been ones where everyone smiled. The sight of Fortuna and Juice, seated jovially at the dinner table, has seared itself into Emilia's mind.
It is exactly the scene that young Emilia had wished to see from the bottom of her heart, and equally was so for the present Emilia, with her memories restored.
Echidna: “Has witnessing the uncomeatable present made you want to submerse in this world?”
As if peering into Emilia's heart, Echidna assaults her with sweet temptation. Emilia raises her head. Echidna gazes back, her eyes as cold as her voice. She strokes her snow-white hair, letting it flow over her shoulder and down her back.
Echidna: “Your mother, and that goodman. Does witnessing their happiness give you no desire for this to continue forever? I'm sure you've thought it pleasant and so dreamed of spending your days with everyone in the forest, and of your friends being so familiar with you.”
Emilia: “...What are you trying to say?”
Echidna: “Just some resentment, or something like it. That you've found me means that you've already reached your answer regarding this world. And I know that this answer of yours is to choose reality over dream, and exceedingly dull. If we're going to be seeing results regardless, I may as well leave some faint indentations behind.”
Emilia: “—”
Echidna: “Rather than the happiness of your mother and your peers, you elect for a reality where they met unfortunate demise. The result of your TRIAL is: you are ultimately a wretched woman who prioritises herself over others.”
Echidna's fierce criticism lances through Emilia's chest. Her words are so cutting that Emilia feels pain, and though she has not actually been stabbed, she puts her hand to her chest and impulsively retreats a step. Emilia's reaction makes Echidna snort.
Echidna: “So long as that's given you some self-awareness. Anyway, the TRIAL doesn't take the personality of its challengers into consideration. So long as they're qualified, be they a hopeless moral bankrupt, or be they a conglomerate of egotistic narcissism, the TRIAL will accept them equally. Rest assured. You'll achieve your goals in short time.”
Emilia: “It's sooo... sore a spot you're going for. Are you like this with everyone?”
Echidna: “Not at all.”
Echidna shrugs in response to Emilia's strained statement.
Echidna: “Other than you, there's only two people in the world who I interact with spitefully.”
Emilia: “It doesn't make me happy at all to be chosen for that world three. ...I don't remember ever doing anything that would make you hate me that much.”
Echidna: “There's no need to look so worried. My hatred for you has nothing to do with you being a half-elf. It isn't a question of your pedigree. With no connection to blood or nature, I just hate you. ...Or no, that may not be strictly correct.”
Emilia: “—?”
Echidna lowers her gaze, feeling something off about the latter half of her statement. Emilia furrows her brows at the brooding witch, before giving a small shake of the head. There's no way she can turn tail and just leave those previous comments sitting there. Echidna has said so many things that need to be invalidated. Not only for Emilia's sake, but for the honour of everyone in the forest.
Emilia: “I don't think there's much to do about you hating me. I know how hard it is for absolutely everyone to like you. Since so many people have told me they hate me.”
Echidna: “If that's the case then it would've been nice of you to show some prudence and stay in the forest.”
Emilia: “Well I'm not going to do that. I'm sure I said it in the last TRIAL. I'm going to melt the ice and save everybody. Then I'm going to hold my chest high and teach everyone that now, the world's an easier place to roam.”
Echidna: “Easier to roam. What a brazen lie. Discrimination between races remains great, and people cannot easily accept those who differ from themselves. Which is why places like SANCTUARY retain their function even today. The disagreements you're referring to will forever result in compounding casualties throughout the world. Am I wrong?”
Emilia: “...You're not wrong.”
Echidna's severe comments put Emilia on the border of pessimism. Emilia still remembers the days she spent with Puck in the forest. How the nearby villages feared her, and showered her in more than a few curses and more than a little spite. Echidna's merciless attitude makes Emilia think about those days. She can try not to recollect on them, but the wounds and their unhealed scars continue to assert their pain.
Emilia: “But I'm going to act as if you are.”
Echidna: “—”
Still focused on that pain, Emilia firmly rebuts Echidna. She watches Echidna narrow her eyes, and bites her lip, strength entering her eyes.
Emilia: “Being unlike others does, sometimes, make painful disagreements happen. Whether there's lots or not many of you might be a big factor for what determines the victims and assailants, sometimes, too.”
Echidna: “And it's been repeats of that, throughout history. People cannot accept those unlike them. The disparity in numbers represents exactly the disparity in strength. The many oppress the few. Now that you understand this truth, and have gotten a little bit wiser, what are you going to do? Gather up the few, and create a utopia for weaklings? Now wouldn't that be exactly the essence of this place we call SANCTUARY?”
Emilia: “That's... one option you could choose, I think. But I want to choose a different path. Even if I can't change that there were victims or assailants, the future's another story.”
The second that Emilia says the word 'future', Echidna's expression freezes numb. To Emilia, it feels like Echidna is angry, as if this is something she absolutely doesn't want to be hearing from Emilia of all people. But Emilia continues.
Emilia: “I'm sure I'm going to do lots of things throughout the Royal Selection. I might face even more insults and spite than I did before. But I want to always say that I will never stop. To ask what's so wrong about being unlike someone else. To ask what's so scary about being unlike our neighbours.”
Echidna: “I'd rather you stop making be say this, but this is fundamental truth. People cannot accept the discrepancies between themselves and others. By essence, all creatures desire for others to be the same as themselves. To like the same things, love the same things, hate the same things, abhor the same things—they feel secure when matters are so, and love their capacity to sympathise. Your platform will be denied. As the ramblings of the weak.”
Emilia: “But that's just a neglect to think! It's lame!”
Echidna: “L-lame...?”
Yells Emilia. Echidna's eyes shoot open, looking not to have expected that word in the least. Emilia puffs out her chest.
Emilia: “It is!”
Emilia: “It's so lame. You're not like your neighbour, so you hate them... are you a child? It's ridiculous that someone would block their ears for a reason like that. I'll say it countless times to any of those nitwits. Rather than mindlessly yell that you don't like it, if you're looking to quiet my endless tirades, it's easier to change your thinking a little.”
Echidna: “Absolutely self-centred. Incredible self-deception. You'll eliminate the opinions of others that you wish not to hear, so that you may enforce your own?”
Emilia: “I'm not eliminating anything. It's up to them whether they unblock their ears. —I'm just confident that I'm the more stubborn.”
Her hand to her hip, Emilia demonstrates to Echidna that her will will not bend. Echidna's expression turns sour and she averts her gaze from Emilia.
Echidna: “Whatever you may assert, the world has not changed yet. The forest-dwellers, frozen in ice—supposing that they are alive, and you do bring them into a thawed world, society is not prepared to accept them. All you are doing is tossing those who were kind to you into adversity. All for your hypocritical beliefs.”
Emilia says nothing.
Echidna: “You wish to free your friends as soon as you can. But should you free them, your friends will suffer as the world rejects them. Living is suffering, and death too is suffering. In a world like this, what can your individual willingness do? What can it change. What does it change?”
Echidna is sincerely inquiring this of Emilia. She has verified Emilia's resolve through the two TRIALS of the past and impossible present. Now, Echidna is asking Emilia about her resolve for the future.
About Emilia's prospects should she follow her intentions through. About the route she will take to reach her imagined future. About what Emilia will use as her cornerstone, and upon what concrete basis she will create this path.
Emilia nods in reply, and:
Emilia: “I'll think about that after I finish the TRIAL!”
Echidna: “—Huh?”
Emilia: “It's putting the cart before the horse if I get so focused on the future that I forget where I am. I know how this sounds when I'm the one saying it, but I'm a bumbler. When there's a wall I have to scale, but I'm worrying about what's on the other side of it, I'll wind up falling into the hole at the foot of the wall.”
Between the TRIALS and her argument with Subaru, Emilia feels that she has a rather correct, objective view of herself. She feels that her appraisal of herself is also unrestrained.
She is not someone so adroit that she can manage many things on her own.
It's a question of whether, after putting in her very best effort on the thing right in front of her, she'll manage to procure results.
She has hope for the future. Prospects for the future. Resolved to aim for those hopes and prospects, she must take the very first step on the road to achieve them. What she should be establishing right now is that exact, first step.
Echidna: “...I finally remembered how pointless it is to debate with you. Honestly this was all rather idiotic of me.”
Emilia: “I know that you're smart, but I kinda think it's sooo unfair for you to shut down other people's opinions like that.”
Echidna: “Do you believe that we exchanged any opinions? I presented questions, and you replied with empty platitudes. I'd forgotten. That you're a hopeless child, unable to stand on your own, constantly relying on others, a weak woman.”
Emilia: “You're right... I am a weak child.”
Emilia lowers her eyes and gives a small shake of her head. But she immediately looks back up, and matches her gaze to Echidna's.
Emilia: “But,”
Emilia: “Is being weak really so wrong?”
Echidna: “...What?”
Emilia: “I know that the person who taught me something very important would say this. It isn't wrong to be weak. It's wrong to want to stay weak.”
She thinks of the black-haired, nasty-eyed boy. Lamenting his powerlessness, but kind and thus suffering more wounds than anyone else in his efforts, a precious boy.
If it were him, who borrowed everyone's aid but nevertheless took a place for the most painful parts, he would absolutely say that.
Echidna: “Reorientation.”
Emilia: “Mm. I was slow to reorient.”
Seeing how a smile arises on Emilia's face, Echidna perceives that there is truly no room for debate. Echidna has no methods to stop the persistently optimistic, overly-enthusiastic Emilia. Meddling in the issue any further would even begin to impact her dignity as a WITCH.
Echidna: “...Well, enjoy the remaining TRIAL. Once you've completed it, a reality far harsher than these TRIALS awaits you. I'm sure you'll come to understand just how difficult it will be to uphold your shiny platitudes.”
Emilia: “Thank you for going out of the way to talk to me. I'll make sure to remember what you've told me. And...” She must be moments away from dissappearing from the mirror. Seeing how Echidna's reflection begins to fade in the mirror, Emilia continues her speech. Echidna furrows her brows, looking sour. And Emilia,
Emilia: “Thank you for showing me this world.” Echidna: “—” Emilia: “It might be an impossible world, but it's still one I wanted to see. I never thought a day would come where I'd see them, Mother and... Father Juice laughing together like this. Thank you.” It did hurt when Echidna told her that this world was not real.
But even if it is an impossible world, these scenes are what would have occurred. These scenes full of happiness and love, enough to make Emilia tremble in joy and sorrow. I'm so glad I got to see this, thinks Emilia from the bottom of her heart. Echidna: “...You.” And so Emilia expresses her thanks—and Echidna's expression shifts.
Her expression has been one of witnessing something disgusting, her attitude has been one of withstanding displeasure, her stance has been one of scorn toward all of Emilia's action, and she has shown many such faces until now—but this expression is different from all of them.
—Echidna, looking close to tears, simply gazes at Emilia. Emilia: “Echidna?” Echidna: “I hate you. —I just, hate you.” Says Echidna, voice strangled and face cast down.
Her image in the mirror then warps, and the white-haired witch disappears from the glass in an instant. Instead what appears is a girl with long, silver hair and—
Emilia: “—hk!” A wave of rejection spears through Emilia's chest as she promptly averts her gaze from the mirror. Her pulse has accelerated, and her breathing has grown slightly ragged.
She's supposed to have steeled herself for this, but it still terrifies her to be reflected in a mirror. Emilia: “—” A century passed in the frozen Elior Forest before Puck saved Emilia from the ice. —She has never seen what she looks like grown up.
The reason's simple. She's just scared.
Her century of slumber in the ice means that Emilia's heart has remained immature, while her body has matured to womanhood. Once she regained consciousness, and first realised that she couldn't control her body very well, Emilia was struck with the illusion that her body may not be hers, and spent many nights in tears.
The reactions from the neighbouring villagers helped spur on that trauma of hers. Emilia shared the same distinctive physical traits as the WITCH OF ENVY, and the villagers feared her like a demon. Even though they realised that Emilia was going to do them no harm, they continued to alienate her. Once people knew that Emilia was not going to do anything, what awaited her was a life of discrimination, spite, and curses. During that time, Emilia came to at least unconsciously recognize that people hated her because she looked like the WITCH OF ENVY.
That would be when she started rejecting mirrors and keeping her eyes from her own visage, which others detested. Puck noticed Emilia's mental wounds, and removed everything reflective from her vicinity. He would even call out to her when she was out fetching water, distracting her so that she would not face herself on the water's surface.
—One of the clauses in her contract with Puck, where he was the one in charge of Emilia's daily grooming, was most likely something to protect Emilia.
To protect his daughter, who could not look in a mirror, Puck used the contract as pretext to mask her trauma.
Emilia: “...I really have had so many people looking after me.”
And how long has she spent sulking alone without realising how others felt? This is the end of the time she's spent in ignorance of what she's been given.
She takes a breath. Freezes. And raises her head, undertaking the personally momentous deed of sighting herself in a mirror.
Reflected in the mirror is a girl with long silver hair and amethyst eyes. Who is glaring so intently at her, looking as if it's the end of the world.
Emilia: “—The heck.”
She says, the whole thing anticlimactic. Seeing her matured visage in the mirror, Emilia sighs.
Emilia: “I look less like Mother Fortuna than I thought, it's too bad...”
After her sulky mutter, the world shatters into pieces.
This happy, desired, but inevitably-to-part dream world, ends here—.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※
Emilia: “—ah, hauh.”
After regaining consciousness, Emilia realises that she had fallen asleep while leaned against the wall. She had slumped to sit on the floor with her legs splayed out aside her, relying on the wall engraved with Subaru's messages. She combs her fingers through her dishevelled hair and imagines the sight of her own self.
So that was her appearance, feared by many as a WITCH, and what Subaru constantly said was 'cute' or that he 'loved'. Emilia, with her impoverished understanding of personal aesthetics, cannot tell which party is correct. However, Mother Fortuna is Emilia's conception of the prettiest and coolest of people. And so she does not think nasty eyes are a bad thing, and actually she doesn't dislike how nasty Subaru's eyes are either.
Emilia: “I just got back, this isn't the time for me to be thinking about weird stuff.”
Putting her hands to her cheeks, Emilia pulls the breaks on her own thoughts. It's all so ludicrously spineless of her. She safely ends the TRIAL and returns, and just looking at Subaru's handwritten messages seriously gets her this elated?
Emilia: “But... this does mean that the second TRIAL is really over, right?”
Mutters Emilia to nobody as she gets to her feet and starts thinking about her results. Going from how Echidna was acting at the end, the TRIAL is most likely over. Unlike with the first TRIAL, Emilia feels no particular sense that she has overcome anything. But she indeed did wrest her near-captivated heart away, and managed to return.
Emilia: “—”
Fortuna and Juice. As Emilia thinks back on how close they were, her heart aches. But she suppresses her sorrow and turns her back to the TRIAL room.
Supposing that the third TRIAL is ready, it will require Emilia to exit and enter again as she did with the second TRIAL. She'll coast off her momentum to defeat the third TRIAL, and liberate SANCTUARY.
For Subaru's sake, and for Ram's request, and to actualize the big talk she spoke to Roswaal, people need her to take action.
Emilia: “—It's just pitch black.”
Passing through the dark corridor of the tomb, her footsteps pealing off the stone floor, Emilia narrows her eyes as she notices how dim the light spilling into the ruin's entrance is. Perhaps clouds are blocking out the moon, or this hazy glow is from starlight.
In SANCTUARY, which loses essentially all sources of light come nightfall, only the natural lighting pouring down from above serves to rip through the nocturnal dark.
Emilia: “—huh?”
Is what Emilia ponders as she walks. So when she steps outside the tomb, the horde of gazes focusing on her lead her throat to unwittingly jam.
???: “W-we are in her presence!”
Somebody speaks up, and a chatter instantly spreads through the crowd. The stir only unfolds further before the flinching Emilia, the overwhelmingly large group of people all focusing their attention on her.
—These are the residents of SANCTUARY.
The people who live in SANCTUARY other than Garfiel and Lewes. Emilia has not interacted with them any more than necessary during her time here. Partly because Emilia's mental state hadn't been calm enough for it, partly because they had not been actively trying to interact with Emilia either.
Emilia has a kind of resignation when it comes to people staring at her like this. The residents detest Emilia's lineage, but hold expectations for her to liberate SANCTUARY, and most of all must ascertain whether she is someone worthy of standing at their head.
And so Emilia had thought it impossible that they would show themselves to her in such great numbers before she had succeeded in liberating SANCTUARY. Emilia had been convinced that interaction with them would only ever come about once she had achieved in attaining results.
So then why were they all gathered here? And why were their gazes towards Emilia—filled not with loathing, but strong expectation?
???: “Can't say it's the nicest erv things...”
Before the bewildered Emilia, a girl steps forward from the group of villagers. With her long, pink hair, this person is Lewes. She steps forward to represent the villagers as she gives Emilia a smile.
Lewes: “Everyone here ers stuck at a standstill. Wondering what answer yer gonner give ter the TRIAL, and... worrying about what will happen ter us after SANCTUARY's been freed.”
Emilia: “...I think it's inevitable that you would. But how would this be 'not the nicest of things'?”
Lewes: “Now thert's easy. Everyone in SANCTUARY, about Lil' Gar and Lil' Su's fight, er about your argument with Lil' Roz, or... well, lots'er things. We've all been derscussing them in detail, and from there...”
Emilia: “D-discussed it!?”
While she watches Lewes scratch her cheek, Emilia's cheeks flush red. Nevermind Subaru and Garfiel's clash of wills, Emilia's argument with Roswaal was just her being pushy with her unrefined opinions. She had rationalized to herself that it wouldn't be embarrassing for anyone to hear it, but now that she knows that someone actually did hear it, it is making her embarrassed.
Emilia: “But, even if you did hear about it... Lewes-san, where did you?”
Lewes: “Hrm, so abert that... fer however I might look, I gert incredibly sharp ears. With it, yer pretty much can't keep anything a secret so long ers yer in SANCTUARY.”
Emilia: “You do. ...Wow.”
Lewes's confession of eavesdropping winds up impressing Emilia more than angering her. Failing to notice how the young-looking old woman sticks out her tongue, Emilia nods in recognition of why so many people have assembled here. And,
Villager: “E-Emilia-sama.”
Emilia: “Y-yes?”
Lewes: “Yer sound like yer met through a dating service.”
He's one of the villagers—and being that he's in Sanctuary, most likely a demihuman half-blood. His canines are slightly long, and his pupils are slit. He looks about as old as Roswaal or maybe a little bit older, seeming somewhat tense as he steps out before Emilia.
Villager: “I'm... no, we are, um... in complete sincerity, we are still undecided.”
Emilia: “—”
Villager: “About whether we may trust in you, or what it will mean to learn of the world outside SANCTUARY. Plainly said, the outside is awash with things we don't know, and scares us. We were all born inside here and have lived inside here. We know nothing of the outside.”
This was what Garfiel had also propounded, the way of life in SANCTUARY. The four-hundred year barrier has forced the people inside into life here for generations. They had no way to escape, and perhaps no need to think about the outside, either.
But now means to escape exists plainly before them, and this utterly foreign and unknown person named Emilia is attempting to liberate them.
Of course people would feel unease and rebellion. And doubtful that many could burst into the outside world, utterly confident.
Emilia had feared that Garfiel's anxieties had been the consensus of opinion inside SANCTUARY. And this man in front of her is saying things that are validating that fear.
Villager: “We could perhaps come into Roswaal-sama's care outside, but how would that differ from our present circumstances? ...Plainly said, we are more anxious than hopeful. The change frightens us.”
Emilia: “...Mm.” Villager: “However.” Emilia nods and edges on lowering her gaze, when the man's statement stops her.
The man straightens his posture before continuing, his expression tense. Villager: “Everyone has heard Garfiel's... has heard the boy's voice.” Emilia says nothing. Villager: “We know what that trooper was thinking, and how he felt. And know the exchanges between him and that black-haired young man, and between yourself and Roswaal-sama afterwards.” His back still straight, the man's expression twists. Regretful, and near to tears. It sticks in Emilia's chest.
Villager: “I, sincerely speaking, thought it pathetic. That a fourteen-year-old boy was so worried for us, and that a child under twenty years old was howling at us like that. ...And even though Roswaal¬sama stated that you could not do it, we listened to your words as well. And so, Emilia-sama.”
Emilia: “—Yes.” Villager: “No matter what the results may be, and no matter what may occur after this, I believe your effort to challenge the TRIAL incredible. Venerable. Not all of us share that sentiment, and not even I have entirely accepted you yet. But I request that we may witness it to completion.” Witness what? No need to ask.
Bathed in his wilful gaze, Emilia looks at those behind him—the crowd of people who are accepting him as their representative—and nods.
Emilia: “Understood. I'll be sure to end everything safely... and you'll listen to what I have to say.” Villager: “Yes. That is a promise. And to think of judging someone off hearsay, without ever interacting with them... we're the last people who should be doing that, huh. —Wahgh!”
The man slumps his shoulders. When Lewes pinches his hip from behind.
The man springs up and turns around in objections, but Lewes just snorts a laugh. Lewes: “Yer sure went on a while, sure are serious, aren't yer. And yer fell back int'er talking casual halfway through. 'Cause yer ain't used ter doing this.”
Villager: “...M-my apologies.” Lewes: “Anyway, there's what we're thinking. Apologies fer the meddler.”
With that charming little exchange, Lewes gets the man to stand down.
Emilia takes a deep breath, something other than oxygen puffing up her chest. Lewes is giving her graces, and the people of SANCTUARY have come to see her efforts through. Who could estimate how greatly it reassured her?
Emilia: “Thank you, Lewes-san. Now, I know I can try sooo hard.” Lewes: “I see, I see. Well, good. ...Next one should be the last TRIAL.” Emilia: “Yes, it is. —I'm going to challenge it right away.” With the strength they've given her, Emilia turns around to face the tomb.
But halfway through her turn she freezes, remembering something, and glances back to Lewes.
Emilia: “Ah, oh... actually, Lewes-san, have you seen Ram? I'd like to tell her that I finished the second TRIAL, but...” Lewes: “...Ram's left here ter attend ter some business. But she she's praying yer good luck. 'You have your tasks, and I have mine. Let us see them both achieved.'” It sounds like Ram, and even though she knows it's just a report, it makes her want to give a wry smile.
Ram's task—where, and with whom, will she achieve it? Emilia feels something astir in her chest, but she consciously suppresses it. Ram is believing in her. And so, she will believe in Ram.
Just how Subaru and the others made a path for her, she wants to proceed from their efforts and make a path as well.
Emilia: “I'm going.” Lewes nods in reply, and the villagers's jabbering sees her off. Filled with even stronger resolve than the first or second times, Emilia steps into the tomb.
Where—, <Face the impending calamity.>
The final TRIAL, approaches—.
※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※
Ram feels how her heartbeat grows a touch distant in her chest. She has never been bathed in such hostility from this person ever before.
Physical contact with him, exchanging words with him, being ordered by him.
Those things were the epitome in joy for Ram, and her meaning in life. And so the fact that she feels girlish elation—even when when he regards her with hostility— overjoys her.
???: “...Hoooooooow dare you show yooooooourself here.”
Mutters the tall man opposite Ram, glaring at her.
His tantalizing voice makes a sweet ache run through her brain. Just by having his heterochromatic gaze on her, everything below her waist feels like it could shatter.
Although, this is naturally not the time to display such weak and girly things. A woman like that would merely be deemed useless and discarded.
???: “Nooooooooow then, what could you have coooooooooome here for?”
Ram: “—That is simple.”
She replies as usual, her face expressionless and manner tranquil. With her pink hair swaying, Ram draws her wand from beneath her skirt, before pointing it at the beauty before her—pointing it at her dearly respected master,
Ram: “I have come to snatch you away from your witch delusions.”
And confesses that she is here to burn her loved one, consumed by an insane love, with her own.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login