Aromatic Precipices: Perpetuity of Ardor: Part 2

Hika’s face was lit with worry. “I may no longer be an Aurei, but I can still sense Lacia and when she is in trouble.” Even though she could no longer use magic of her own, she was still her guardian. She knew losing her Aurei status meant she was vulnerable, but still. “Something happened. She was supposed to be here, with you, but she was pulled away…”

“Things are finally starting to heat up, huh?” Licht seemed unsurprised. “It was only a matter of time. The devils need Lacia, and they’ll stop at nothing if it means getting their hands on her.”

The stillness of the night faded away, leaving the cratered border gate behind but not before Licht caught a glimpse of a large sign. Rust crept up the crumpled steel supports; the sign itself was a little faded from years of harsh summer sun. “Okina Islands Amusement Park” was plastered in chipped, white lettering against a red background. He stored the image in the back of his mind for later reference though he couldn’t help but wonder what something like that was doing so far north.

As the scene transition completed its sequence, Licht and Hika found themselves amidst a rubble-filled hallway—he’d been expecting a return to the white room. Roller beds were strewn across the corridor like toy cars. Cracks etched themselves up the walls and into the ceiling tiles, threatening to bury any unsuspecting victims in plaster and dust. It didn’t take a genius to realize they stood in the middle of a ravaged hospital. The damage must have been recent as patients’ room doors still swung open on their hinges. Lights hung from their wiring, flickering and buzzing.

Hika entered a full-on sprint down the hall, her feet grazing shards of broken glass, tearing more holes into her stockings. The faint blips of a monitor slowly worked their way up the hall, reaching Licht’s ears as he ran after her, now realizing where she was headed. Either someone was still around, or a random piece of medical equipment had shorted out, but Hika’s hasty reaction told a different story: she knew where they were and, likely, who was still around.

After a minute-long journey down a crumbling corridor, Hika finally stopped, cradling the wall outside a nearby room; Licht wasn’t far behind. She turned to face him, finger to her lips, shushing him. He slowed his pace as he crept along the wall beside her, avidly listening to the conversation taking place inside the room.

“I hadn’t imagined you would find yourself trapped between two worlds like that. I have greatly underestimated the power of the devils, seeing as Kuria was able to create an entire world that fell outside of my jurisdiction.”

A female voice winced in pain, exasperated grunts winding the corner. “But why is it I’m the only one inside this hospital, and who even did all of this? The bandaging and what nots. This place looks like it should be the last place I need to be.”

“Listen to me closely, Mana. Despite not having the omnipotence to see much into your future, I do have answers for you—one’s you’ve likely been seeking for some time.”

Licht poked Hika’s arm to get her attention. “Where are we right now?” he mouthed.

“Chronid Hospital… in Chiipha,” she whispered back. “Remember, what we are seeing is not real-time, but a memory of her recent past.”

After more shuffling, a displeased “Hmph” returned their attention to the conversation Mana was having, though it was still unclear with whom she was speaking.

“That’s great and all, but what the hell role do I have in all of this? Why was Kuria so hell-bent on making sure I didn’t leave alive, and how did Aria survive the hihouyo? Lacia?”

“You recall the Searing Wounds event, correct? I was hoping you’d have stumbled upon the truth like Brendan did, but it can’t be helped, considering our current situation.”

Finally, it clicked; the other voice was Omnis. Licht was shocked. Not only was Omnis just around the corner, speaking with Mana, they had likely manifested themselves as well, considering it was a full-on, two-way conversation. Mana was just on the other side of the wall as was the fabled Omnis. He poked his head around the doorframe for a better look, still wary. Even if it was just one of Mana’s memories, apparently pretty recent—at that, he didn’t want to do anything that might disturb the sequence.

Omnis opened a large book as the pages fluttered, handing it to Mana, the palms of her hands supporting the leather binding. Her eyes darted back and forth, examining every word, absorbing information like plants in sunlight. Omnis patiently waited for her to finish.

“Have you ever wondered what the last name of Earth’s previous princess was? She came from a race of ancient people that once tilled the land and enshrined peace. After the Searing Wounds event, they went underground for fear of persecution by the remaining members of the Lhumin and Greyriter families.”

“Hang on,” Mana said. “So, what we’ve believed to be a historical conflict brought on by an unfortunate accident wasn’t the actual truth?”

“No. It was the makings of a mass-cull of magical families and Ahzef’s previous attempt at rewriting the world. The blame was shifted towards the Greyriter family and from them to the Lhumin family when the reality of the situation was,” Omnis paused, ensuring Mana was still following, “that it was Kuria who instigated the violence. She knew that if the two mage families went to war with each other, it would force the Iliern to quell the violence. With this, Ahzef would swoop in and take the Iliern princess. He would use her as bait to lure out Chiipha’s.”

“Thus enter Earth’s princess who I’m assuming is of this ancient race, too?” Mana asked.

“Precisely. These were the beginning stages of what the devils are currently attempting to do, a Rezertia—a revival, if you will. Earth’s princess was keen; she uncovered the truth not long after. However, she was also the official Greyriter recordkeeper, hence why an official record was so hard to find. Before she died, she made sure to hide the records well.”

“And that’s why everyone believed there was no official record… It’s all starting to make sense finally! Oh my god.”

Omnis continued. “You are on the right track, but that is not the whole story. While the attempted Rezertia was stopped, there remained a heavy price to pay, though you are already aware from the conversation you had with Mikaun.”

“Are you saying that Mikaun ended up with the official record, and that’s why he knew so much?” She looked like someone had just splashed cold water in her face. “The deaths of Earth and Chiipha’s princesses was planned… Is that right?” She was shocked. Another piece of the puzzle had finally snapped into place. “Because of their premature deaths, there wasn’t any time to pass along their powers to their children, or lack thereof, I suppose. This would present an issue because who would there be to take up their duties?”

“You’re getting quite good at this. Yes, their deaths severely weakened Earth and Chiipha’s defenses while giving the devils a new foot in the door from the Reverse World.”

“The only thing I’m not understanding is how Mikaun obtained the records. If Earth’s last princess died with the only copy, how was it retrieved? And how was it found?”

Omnis gave a small sigh. “Well, she wasn’t the best when it came to secure recordkeeping, and once the devils broke her, she told them everything she knew in hopes they would spare her—she was desperate. At this point, nothing could be done to stop the damage she had just inflicted.” The mood in the room fluctuated; a calming aura quieted the tense atmosphere. “Now… This is where you come in, Mana.”

She sat up in bed, tangled in untucked sheets, now fully engaged with what Omnis was telling her. To her, she felt dragged into a war she didn’t belong to and had no reason being a part of and, in the early days, she wondered if she should even be trying to find Lacia, lest she be part of something far greater than herself. Of course, the fact of the matter was that her best friend was embroiled in something so complex, so grand, but even with that understanding, she remained unsure of what her role was. Finding Lacia? Pretending the last two years weren’t real? Truthfully, she wanted the answers that pertained to her own identity more than anything.

“The Lhumin family is indeed a magical family, and not just because they married into the Greyriter family, an often-misunderstood dynamic between the two mage families. Your friend, Brendan, only had half the story. That little star on your cheek marks you as a child of Ethera, one who inherits great magical prowess.”

“Child of… Ethera?”

“Yes, you are a child of Ethera, though that term has multiple meanings. See, you have only seen me in my ethereal form. Until now, you were not ready to learn of my true identity.”

The white aura surrounding Omnis began to fade away: two human-like feet emerged first, followed by a hasty dimming that revealed a full, feminine figure. Mana did a double take as the last of Omnis’ aura faded away, both dazzled and confused by the sudden reveal. The corners of Omnis’ mouth turned upward, a lipstick-red smile complimenting two lightly blushed cheeks.

“You see, while I may be omnipotent, it doesn’t detract from my humanity. I was once an ordinary girl, just like you, but someone had to restore order after the attempted Rezertia. Earth and Chiipha were in disarray, undefended and distraught.” Omnis approached Mana’s bed as a flowing white gown manifested around her body, flowers blooming beneath her feet with each tap of a sandal-bound foot.

“Are you… responsible for Lacia? Everything we’ve been through? W-w-what does this all mean?” Mana stammered. “Who—”

“Ethera. That is my only name as I’ve long forgotten who I used to be,” she smiled, though it was clear the very thought of her past still held some level of distress. “Mana, you are a beacon of hope. You were woven into Lacia’s story because you are her beacon of hope—not because I wanted you or your friends to suffer.”

Still in shock, all Mana could do was just sit there, on information overload. Child of Ethera? Multiple meanings? What did that mean? With a quickstep, Ethera placed her pointer finger on Mana’s forehead, trace lines of crimson and magenta coursing through her body. They moved with alacrity, reversing the two-year long misery of her battle with mana-contraction syndrome. Her skin glowed with energy, flesh tones replacing the pearly hues. For the first time in two years, she felt normal: no more dizzy spells, slow mana regeneration, or breathless breaks between tasks.

“More to the point, I assumed physical form for two years, trying to enjoy the last of my humanity… The last time I could truly enjoy being human.” Ethera took a couple steps back, folding her arms behind her. “It was bliss. I had forgotten what it was like to be so free, and that’s when I met your father—a typical romance story. He was so kind, so sweet, and when I explained everything to him, he believed me.”

“I’ve never met my father,” Mana said, stretching to test her restored strength. “How do you know him? What was he like? And I still need an explanation on this ‘child of Ethera’ thing.”

Ethera took a seat in a nearby chair, settling in as she crossed her legs. “To be a child of Ethera, you must be chosen by me and be someone who exudes great magical prowess. Likewise, there must be potential that has yet to be tapped. Now,” she paused for a moment, “as for the other way you become a child of Ethera, you must be of my own flesh and flood and, that, is why you are a child of Ethera—my own daughter.”

“…I’m not sure how to take that. Like, you gave birth to me ‘flesh and blood’, or do you mean something else?”

Ethera giggled. “You’re definitely my daughter, always curious and straight to the point.” Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light. “Yes, I gave birth to you, making you my daughter. I know this is probably a bit confusing for you, but I promise you it’s nothing but the truth.” She uncrossed her legs for a moment. “As for your father, he was caring and thoughtful. He did everything while I was pregnant with you. Cooked every meal, did all the chores, made sure we were financially stable— Ahh… I’m getting off-topic,” she laughed.

“So, that means Lacia is also technically your daughter, just not by blood. Ok,” Mana said, “so, I guess that all kind of makes sense. That being said, can you tell me about my father? What was he like?”

“I’m surprised how well you’re taking this so far,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “As for your father, just after you were born, he had to leave on an important business trip. It was an ordinary, sunny day when he left—the last day I saw him. I was on the back porch, watering the plants as I carried you around, and that was when I watched his plane explode mid-ascent.” Ethera struggled to handle her own emotions, voice quivering. “I was never told the truth of the event. It was played off as an accident for months. He wasn’t the only victim, of course, but we never received an actual answer—what happened the day the plane erupted into flames as it crashed back onto the runway.”

“Do you suspect…”

“The devils? Perhaps. I’m certainly not that omniscient, so I don’t have all the answers, but it is an explanation I’ve considered. Someday, I hope these will be questions you discover the answers to.” She cupped her hands around the back of her head as she leaned back in the chair. “I was on the verge of losing my ethereal form if I didn’t return to the White Room—the same place you’ve visited. It was at that time I was forced to abandon my search for the truth.”

“There can only be one reason you’re here now, then,” Mana concluded. “It’s because the two princesses have been chosen and revealed, right?” She wanted to ask more questions, but she figured those answers could come later. “Still, I feel like I’m missing part of the story. How were Lacia and Mille chosen as the two princesses? Why brand Lacia and I? How did you even become Omnis?”

“The answer to your first question is, yes. Because the two princesses have begun to move, the devils are aware of their presence, to some degree—it’s not an omniscient thing, however. Lacia and Millee were chosen because they share a bloodline but have a different mother and father, making them highly susceptible to potent magecraft. Not only that, but they are also strong in their convictions which solidifies their loyalty to their roles. The same goes for you, Mana, hence why you have been marked as a child of Ethera. I know it sounds complicated, but it’s really quite simple.”

“I mean, I guess that’s fair, but what makes Lacia and Millee so special? Why do the devils want them so badly? Did you choose them?”

Ethera chuckled. “You’re just like how I used to be—question everything. I’m glad some part of me rubbed off on you,” she said. “Now… The princesses of Earth and Chiipha are the two keys that open the doors to what I suppose you could call an elysian kingdom. I never really had a choice in the selection process. Once I was chosen as the next Grandeur, and once I inherited the title, I was the one in charge of choosing the next princesses based on a limited selection.” She sighed. “Had I known being Grandeur meant I could never, technically, be human again, I’m not sure you’d be dealing with the reawakening of Nertiia and the devils at all. There is a chance we could have avoided the tragedy that is set to unfold had we just not chosen new princesses at all. Alas, that wasn’t a judgment I could make.”

“Ner…tiia?” Mana asked, confused. “And, who is this ‘we’ you keep talking about?”

“I wish we could spend more time talking as I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to have all of your questions answered, but your friends will fill you in. For now, however… Let’s go somewhere less… decrepit.”

Ethera waved her arms in a wide arc, transforming the crumbling hospital into a wonder of flora. Lavenders sprouted from the tile around Mana’s feet as the artificial lights evolved into warm sunlight. Red poppies grew into an expansive field of crimson vibrance, stretching beyond the horizon.

Licht and Hika watched as the world around them also transformed into the flowery elysian where Mana and Ethera now stood. Aromatic pleasantries brushed Licht’s nose, filling his senses with a combination of sweet scents: calming lavender, humid reminiscence of rain— He looked around, realizing Hika was nowhere to be seen… until he suddenly found himself in the dirt, face full of flowers.

“Sorry, Licht,” Hika apologized. “I tried to control the landing, but I thought landing on you might not hurt as much as the ground would.” She awkwardly rubbed the back of her head.

“Compared to the ground, huh?” he muttered, unamused. “How did you fall out of the sky, anyways?”

Hika bobbed her pointer finger up and down. Towering above them was a singular willow tree, but it was in full bloom and strangely decorated with red and purple blossoms, just like the lavenders and poppies that encircled them. Blossoms scattered in the sweetly scented breeze as the adjacent leaves flourished their verdant hues in waves.

“Right… Of course you managed to land on the only tree around,” he said, defeated. “Where are we, though? I’ve never seen a place like this in my life except maybe in a picture book, but still.”

“I’m not certain myself, but the combination of these flowers is frighteningly symbolic. I do know enough about your world, even if I’ve only been human a short while,” she explained, referencing the look of uncertainty on Licht’s face. “Lavenders are flowers of peace, but red poppies represent the remembrance of war and bloodshed. Eerily fitting, no?” She scurried past him, finishing her thought. She was far more interested in Mana and Ethera’s conversation. “Now, please let me listen.”

“Huh. She’s using contractions all of a sudden. I guess we’re all changing in our own ways,” Licht thought to himself.

Mana and Ethera had picked up where they left off, now standing in the center of a ring of lavenders, subsequently surrounded by an even larger sea of red poppies. Ethera grabbed Mana’s hands and held them in her own, face beaming with excitement but, more than anything, she exuded a smile that radiated happiness. She seemed overjoyed to have her first-ever conversation with her adult daughter. Licht could only imagine what it must be like to feel so loved by someone, especially when they’d been apart for so long.

“Of course, I struggled as Grandeur. The devils waited nearly two centuries before attempting another Rezertia, as you already know, and they came back ferociously stronger. You see,” she sighed, “I had to expend much of my remaining energy the last time, which is why they’re back so soon. My best was only enough to buy approximately two decades of time, hence why, now, at twenty-one, you’re finding they’ve come back with a vengeance.”

“What are you saying?” Mana asked cautiously. “There’s, like, seven of us this time. We can—”

Ethera sighed. “It’s not that simple. Your issue isn’t the numbers you have—it’s the amount of strength you have combined which, at the moment, is hardly enough to banish just two of the devils.” She frowned. “I’ve been watching as you grew up, and I know you’re awful at hiding what you’re thinking sometimes, something you inherited from me. See,” she turned Mana’s palms toward the sky, “as is part of my duties as the omniscient, I must pass the role of Grandeur on. Though, seeing as you’re my daughter, and a wonderful friend to Earth’s princess, I have a feeling you’d do more with this power than I ever could.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What exactly does the Grandeur do, and why pass the duty on to me now of all times?” Mana pulled her hands back. “At least answer me that, first.”

Ethera studied her face for a moment. “Good. It looks you learned how to tell people “no”, too. I wish I could have been there to raise you, but your foster parents did a wonderful job in my place.” She folded her arms across her chest. “The role of the Grandeur is a simple one: they are tasked with monitoring the princesses of Earth and Chiipha, ensuring they are using their powers appropriately and only for the betterment of others. To that avail, the Grandeur must also monitor the weakening seal of Nertiia’s entrapment, something that has been passed from Grandeur to Grandeur for centuries. However,” she paused, “there has never been a lineage of Grandeur—an inherited bloodline and, for that reason, each succession of power has grown weaker and weaker, thus why I could only guide you along at certain intervals.”

“I see… So, there’s something to do with me that, if you passed the title on, would restore that power in some way? Why did it even weaken in the first place, though?”

“That is correct. Think of the way water is heated in a shower. If I were to enter first and you came in after I had already finished, with the water still running, it would eventually turn cold over time, right? To always keep that water warm, it must be heated constantly from its point of origin, but that requires enormous amounts of energy if one were to run the water forever.”

“Hypothetically speaking… Ok, so, by transferring the title of Grandeur to me, in theory, the water that ran cold becomes reheated, thus restoring the heat it lost from overuse. Is that right?”

Ethera nodded. “It seems you inherited my smarts as well,” she smiled. “By transferring the title to you, your own mana is amplified and restores the power that was lost over many generations. Because no two Grandeur have been alike, the associated power had to be modified, thus losing that “energy” like a cold shower over time. You are allowed to say no if you feel this responsibility is too great for you, but Lacia and Millee will not have the strength alone to face the Reverse Royalty and Nertiia if she were to be revived.”

“I’ll do it.” Mana’s expression had turned serious.

“Think this through. If you inherit this power, there are no guarantees it will be enough to keep the two worlds safe—they are of the remaining few that Ahzef has yet to consume as he seeks to rebuild the universe. If he is left to devour the energy from any of the aforementioned worlds, he will be able to undo Nertiia’s seal and thus open the Erill Gate.”

Mana shook her head. “I could stand here and refuse as I try to fight with own power, but that would be selfish of me, if I were to refuse what could be the one thing that turns this fight in our favor.” She held her hands back out. “I’ve made my choice, and this is the only way I see us winning.”

“Very well then. If you’re satisfied with that decision, I will bestow the title of Grandeur upon you.” Ethera grabbed Mana’s hands again. “Be warned, it will take about twenty-four hours for your body to adjust to the influx of magical power. You may feel overwhelmed as my knowledge, and the knowledge of past Grandeurs, passes to you and becomes your own. Likewise, this transfer has never been done with the kin of a Grandeur—there could be risks even I am unaware of. With that information, are you still willing to proceed?”

“I’ve come this far, right? I have to give back to those who’ve helped me along the way.” She took a breath. “I’m sure of my decision.”

Mana’s palms began to glow as heat radiated through the open air. The sudden onset of a stark breeze carried a mixture of red and purple petals along its invisible trails, showering both Mana and Ethera in a marvelous display of symbolism and color. A rush of vivid color overspread the landscape, transforming the lavender and crimson fields into a fiery rush of auburn amaryllis flowers. Their remarkable beauty symbolized the newfound determination and strength Mana had been blessed with, similarly symbolizing the love in her heart.

Hika laid on her stomach, hidden amongst the flowers, watching as the memory bubble replayed the most remarkable display of emotion she’d ever seen. The outpouring of unfiltered love and magic was unbelievable—she’d never felt such elegance and grace before as she began to tear up. Ethera’s presence alone was soothing, but the restoration of the Grandeur’s powers was even more remarkable: the outpouring of love, the resurgence of determination—even the rekindled spark of strength. She closed her eyes, trying to brace the oncoming flood of emotions but it was no use. Ethera’s dedication to her duties and compassion for her daughter were almost too much to bear; love had become art in its finest form.

Licht wasn’t afraid to shed tears of his own. He wiped away tear after salty tear, trying to clear the watery image they created, hues of orange melting into puddles like ice cream in the summer. They were the perfect expression for words that could never describe such a moving moment between mother and daughter, and he was fine with that. Besides, what more could he do to express not only his gratitude towards them, but to the growth he’d achieved himself thanks to his time with Mana and Brendan? There was no easy way to face the spiraling vortex of sentiment and ardent devotion. He turned away for a moment, understanding that he, too, had to become stronger, his tears a sign of undeterred passion rather than melancholic emotion.

“Mana, this is the precipice. If this were just the devils or just Nertiia, I’d have much more confidence.” She stared into her daughter’s eyes. “You can turn back and choose to fight with your own power. I won’t stop you, and you have the choice to choose what power you will wield in battle. Despite everything else, you accepted my powers as your own, but you realize you run the risk of throwing away your last chance at living a normal life and being an ordinary girl?”

“Me? An ordinary girl?” She laughed. “My life has been anything but normal these last two years, but thank you for trying, really. It means a lot.” Mana smiled, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I’m going to support everyone—even myself.”

Ethera gave a slow, steady exhale. “Mana, I’ve always loved you as only a mother could. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. Unfortunately, fate is something that I am unable to control, and I am so, so sorry for dragging you into all of this. I underestimated Ahzef and the devils, and it cost me.” Ethera’s face was sorrowful. “Had I planned better and paid closer attention, I could have stopped all of this before it started.”

Mana leaned in, interlocking her fingers with her mother’s. “I don’t blame you for any of this. If anything, I should say thank you. I’ve grown closer to Lacia than I ever expected I would, I’ve seen so many different places and have made so many great, new friends,” she paused, “and it has made me the happiest I’ve ever been. I love you, Mama.”

A brilliant luster charged with innumerable thoughts, feelings, and memories burrowed itself into her heart, finding a permanent home—a place as fulfilling as the stars in a twilit sky.

“That makes me so happy! Everything I’ve done has always been for you, to secure a life for you so that you could forge a path that would lead you away from the one I made, but it seems I failed in that department.”

Mana shook her head. “Don’t blame yourself—I’m happy the way things are now. Besides, when all of this is over, I’ll formally introduce you to everyone, and we can go to tea shops, take shopping trips— We can do things normal people do without having to worry.”

Ethera nodded. “To think, my own daughter would be the one teaching me how to fit in,” she said, fighting back tears of happiness. “I’d like that.”

Releasing their interwoven fingers, they hugged each other so tight it could make up for a century’s worth of missed hugs. Silhouettes juxtaposed against the now sunlit backdrop, light rapidly swelled into a surge of wind, tearing the flowers from their rooted positions in the ground.

“When there’s no one to keep you safe from harm, when you’re far from home, I’ll be there… my precious child, always in your heart.”