All Stars In The Sky

(...)

Peter had finally returned.

“Heh, looks like you finally learned to call me professor.”

“Seriously, that's what you're focusing on, old man?” Peter smirked. “Save the thanks for later, it's time for me to finish off this bastard!”

“Ho ho, that's the fighting spirit I taught you. Go all out, brat!”

The beastly demon that had torn off Belchior's arm leaped at Peter, but the boy countered with a punch, effortlessly defeating the demon.

“Now you're the last one left!” he shouted, turning to Galle.

Galle recovered from the blow he'd taken, standing back up to face Peter once more. The demon could sense the sudden change in the boy, who now carried a much heavier aura than before. His newest opponent had been decided.

A frenzied battle ensued. Peter unleashed punches and kicks imbued with flames, but his attacks seemed to have no effect on the demon’s robust body. Galle, in turn, attempted to slash at Peter with his claws, but the boy was faster and dodged in time. As the fight progressed, Peter’s blows began to take effect, just as Galle’s attacks started to come closer, leaving scratches on Peter's body.

Suddenly, their bodies clashed, their foreheads slamming into each other, and then both leaped in opposite directions. Peter avoided falling by using his left hand for support, while keeping his right hand raised. Galle fell far less gracefully but quickly regained his footing, preparing his ultimate move. The demon dug his claws into the ground, tilting his body forward and lowering his head as his horns began to emit a black and red energy. The demonic energy emanating from his horns rapidly gathered into a black sphere just above them.

“EVIL BALL!” the demon roared with his distorted voice as the dark energy sphere shot toward Peter like a cannonball.

“Arghwaaaa!!” Peter tried to dodge to the side, but the sphere exploded upon impact with the ground, sending the boy flying backward from the shockwave.

The battle had finally tilted in one direction—it seemed that Galle would be the winner once again. The demon observed the boy lying on the ground, then immediately began charging another sphere.

“THE CHAIN!!!” With what little remained of the chains wrapped around his right arm and using every last ounce of his strength, Belchior delivered his final blow. It was the same punch Peter had used, slamming the demon’s head into the ground.

“Who said an old dog can't learn new tricks?” Belchior withdrew, as the chains on his arm vanished. He staggered toward Peter but still had a smile on his face.  “You alright there, brat? You better not be too hurt.”

Peter got up and ran to Belchior, catching him in his arms before he could collapse. The old mage had lost all strength to stand, but thanks to his resilience, he had managed to land one last attack.

“Worried about my injuries? What the hell are you talking about, you old fool! Look at your wounds—we need to do something!”

“There’s nothing more to be done, brat. My body can't take any more than this.”

“Don’t say that! You have to survive! I don’t want you to die!”

In his mind, Belchior began to relive moments from his past. The shy gaze of his wife when they first met, the secret meetings under the moonlight. He remembered his daughter, how her red hair flew past the window as she ran back and forth playing. Inevitably, he also recalled how painful it was when he lost them both. Finally, the last memory that came to his mind was of Arya, a poor girl, confused and afraid, lost in a cruel world.

“...Memento Mori.”

“...Huh?”

“Remember, Peter, you don’t need to fear death. Mors is kind and gentle to all humans. I’ve already done everything I could; all that’s left is to pray for the future that awaits you. You're making the most of your life, aren’t you?”

Tears began streaming down Peter's face. He truly didn’t know how to deal with death. “Yes, I'm doing my best!”

Belchior started coughing up blood, his eyelids growing heavier, while his breathing and heartbeat slowed.

“Professor! No!”

“It’s alright, Peter. If you can, do me one last favor.”

“...Yes, anything.”

“Tell Arya that she will always be my beloved daughter, and that she will always be a Belchior, no matter what happens.”

Belchior closed his eyes for the last time. He could finally reunite with his wife and daughter. It was time to turn to dust and return to the sky as a star.

(...)

CLANK! … The chains locking the chest had broken.

Before Edward and Arya could leave Belchior’s room, fate had one last cruel twist in store—the chains had shattered. Arya’s attempts hadn’t made a dent in them. The only reason they had broken was that Belchior’s magic had faded from the world. Magic comes from the human soul, and just like that sealing magic, Belchior’s soul had vanished.

Arya swallowed down her urge to cry at that moment. She knew what it meant. She tried to hold back, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling. The girl ran toward the chest, kicking its lid open. Edward quickly followed her, desperately grabbing her arms to stop her.

“Arya! Stop! He wouldn’t have wanted this!”

“Noooo! Edward, I have to do something!”

"Please, don't do this!"

"... Edward."

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry for this."

Taking advantage of the position that left Edward open, Arya landed a powerful kick straight to his intimate parts, causing him to collapse to the ground in agony. Arya quickly retrieved the flute from the chest and ran out of the room before Edward could recover.

"Aryaaaaaaa!!!"

"I'm sorry, Edward, but I need to do something."

Edward took a few seconds to recover, just enough time for Arya to put some distance between them as she ran toward the center of the village. It didn’t take long before they both encountered the traces of destruction left by the demons—the blood of the villagers scattered everywhere. They found Peter, who was kneeling on the ground, holding Belchior's body in his arms.

"Father!"

"It can't be..."

Peter looked at them with a face full of tears, confirming that the worst had happened. The three young ones broke into tears, crying bitterly over the death of their teacher, father, and protector of the village, Heinrich Belchior.

However, the tragedy was not over yet. With Belchior's death, the path was now open for Galle, who had yet to be defeated and was now rising to his feet again, brandishing his sharp claws against the sky in a gesture of triumph.

"Was this demon the one who killed everyone?"

"... Yes."

"Leave him to me," Arya said.

"Arya! N—"

"Edward. You said you would stay by my side forever. I'm about to return to being a necromancer. Do you still want to keep that promise?"

Edward drew his sword from its sheath. "I won't abandon you for anything in this world. If this is how it has to be, then that's fine by me. I'll still stay by your side." He stood beside Arya, facing the demon that was now charging another sphere of demonic energy.

Arya firmly grasped the flute she had taken from the chest. It was a silver-metal flute, engraved with red markings resembling the petals of a peculiar flower: higanbana, the red spider lily, a flower used to symbolize death. Just as higanbanas bloom after a strong storm, the sweet melody flowing from the flute once again awakened the forbidden magic within Arya. The presence of death in that place made her magic flow even more intensely.

Galle fired the black sphere toward them. It was much larger than the one launched at Peter, with the potential to obliterate them.

"(CERBERUS!!!)" Arya's flute melody activated, summoning the legendary Cerberus, the three-headed fire-breathing hound. Cerberus' flames clashed with the black sphere, causing it to disintegrate.

The battle between the two beasts was about to begin, with the village as their battleground. As Cerberus growled with its three smoldering mouths, Galle once again charged demonic energy to attack. With a few musical notes from Arya, Cerberus charged toward Galle.

"EVIL BALL!!!" The demon responded by launching multiple black spheres at once, which flew at high speed toward Cerberus. Cerberus dodged the spheres while continuing its advance until it finally reached the demon, engaging in a fierce exchange of claw strikes. The heads of Cerberus moved in impressive coordination, preventing Galle from escaping unscathed.

Arya intensified her melody, and in response, Cerberus began to smolder even more from its heads, preparing to charge an attack just as Galle had done earlier. The demon, in turn, concentrated the remainder of its demonic energy, releasing a flurry of black spheres in a final effort to win. Cerberus endured several of the spheres until it finally unleashed its true power, channeling an immense amount of fiery energy through its three mouths. The flames combined into a massive fireball that annihilated all the spheres in its path before striking Galle.

The demon was exhausted and severely wounded, struggling to get up. Cerberus approached, preparing its coup de grâce. Unable to do anything, Galle could only watch as Cerberus used its side heads to bite his arms and lift him into the air, aligning his head with the central one. With a burst of fire from its mouth, a new explosion of flames emerged, incinerating Galle’s head entirely. Cerberus emerged victorious as Arya finished her melody.

Edward and Peter stood in awe—they finally understood the level of power Belchior had referred to when speaking about Arya. The girl's power was terrifying, but it did not come without a price. By using necromancy again, Arya was once more drawing Mors' attention to herself.

"Are you two okay?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, I didn’t even need to lift a finger." Edward sheathed his sword again.

"You’re really strong, Arya."

"If I had used my power from the start..."

"Please, don’t think like that..."

"No, it wouldn't have made a difference. It all happened too fast. When Belchior and I arrived, almost everyone was already dead." Peter swallowed his frustration, remembering that he hadn’t been able to save anyone.

"I just wanted... to save them..." That was what Arya wanted to believe at that moment.

"Dwelling on it will only hurt your heart."

Meanwhile, a grim thought crossed her mind. What if... she used the flute to bring them back?... Arya considered the possibility, and without realizing it, her body moved on its own, bringing the flute toward her lips. Before her lips could touch the flute, a hand gently stopped her, holding it in place.

"No." Peter had a serious expression. "That’s not what Belchior would have wanted."

"..."

No, she wouldn’t do it. But the way her body had reacted so naturally to that thought filled her heart with agony. Arya began to cry, and Edward gently embraced her, resting her head against his chest—not only to comfort her but also to be comforted, as he too had started to cry. That same day, Arya was faced with the decision to leave the village, to leave them all behind... But that was not the way she wanted to say goodbye. The comfort they gave each other was the pillar that kept their minds standing amidst a valley of despair. 

As the two held each other, Peter remained standing, still shaken by Belchior's death, while observing the flute Arya had used. "(No, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted that... After all, he waited so long to reunite with his wife and daughter. He can finally become a star in the sky.)"

Peter’s thoughts seemed to materialize, like a dream coming true. Right before his eyes, Belchior's body, along with those of the other villagers, began to emit a faint glow. The light from their bodies took the form of small luminous orbs that detached and floated upward into the sky, like fireflies at night, while their bodies turned to dust, scattering like petals on the ground.

The three young ones remained silent, watching the souls ascend into the sky... It was all over. They were all gone. But they weren’t gone forever.... They had become stars in the sky.