Love Me After The Last Page

Days have passed since Darren had turned into a dragon, and caused chaos. The city was still in a rubble mess, but there hadn't been any sightings of any creatures of shadows…and the cries of chaos were replaced with a calming silence. The beginning of an eternal calm.

Darren laid motionless, his body caught in a deep slumber as if his very soul was trying to knit itself back together from the strain and grief. The healers said he lived, though his breathing was shallow and weak. The Black Dragon had been subdued, but at what cost?

Historia’s powers had vanished. The last embers of Krono’s curse had been burned away when Darren was purified, and she was left powerless. The woman who had gone mad with trying to rewrite time over and over again now sat behind iron bars, arrested for the crime of turning back time over and over, and for giving in to the evil powers of Kronos. My heart twisted, seeing such a beloved character in a state of pure insanity.

They said she muttered to herself at night, fragments of timelines spilling from her lips, as though she still had the power to make herself the hero. She had been charged with treason, for tampering with fate, for dragging the kingdom into ruin. No one cheered her name anymore. They only whispered it like a pitiful curse.

I went to visit her one day. The dungeon was quiet in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Not the peaceful, but a heavy silence that pressed down with the smell of rusted iron and damp stone. The air was cold enough to sting my lungs, and every step I took along the corridor echoed loudly, as though the walls wanted to remind me that I shouldn’t be here. That no one should be here.

The guards said Historia had lost her mind. That she spoke nonsense, and that she laughed at shadows and whispered to no one. The guards warned me once again before letting me through, their eyes wary. But still, I had to see her, I had to see Historia for answers. Why Darren? Why take Krono’s Power? When I reached the barred cell, I almost turned back. My stomach churned at the pitiful sight.

Historia sat against the far wall, knees pulled tightly to her chest, her once gleaming hair hanging in dull, tangled strands around her face. The girl who had stood in the chapel like a shining savior was gone. What remained was a gaunt, wild-eyed, and shaking woman who looked like she had seen and lived horrors beyond her youth. Her lips moved in fragments of words. At first, I thought she was praying, but then I heard her mumblings.

“Again… I’ll try again… Estel will live next time. Next time… next time…” Her nails scraped across the stone floor, leaving shallow lines like she was trying to carve a path backward. I tapped the bard of the cell,, her eyes were dilated and rimmed red with exhaustion.

“You,” she whispered. Her voice cracked into venom and bled into laughter. “Of course you would come. To gloat? To look down on me now that you have what I could never hold on to?”

“I’m not here to gloat, Historia.” I said softly, though my throat tightened. “I came because I wanted to understand. Why Darren? Why not Estel? Why was it always him?”

Her laughter swelled, sharp and broken. “Why Darren? I never loved Darren. Not once. Do you hear me?” She rushed forward, clutching the bars with trembling hands. “It was always Estel. He was my everything. My first friend, my only light. I loved him with all that I could ever give to him.” Her voice cracked again, falling lower. “And I lost him. Again and again. Do you know what it is to hold someone as life leaves them? To beg Amor until your voice is raw, to turn back time until you cannot even remember which death was the first? I stopped counting, Rosaria. I stopped counting long ago.”

I swallowed, words sticking in my chest. The harrowing parallel we both shared, sticking out like a sore thumb. “I know how that feels. More than anyone else. You wonder what went wrong, what you could have done. It’s a maddening endless cycle. One you can’t escape once you’re in it.”

Historia faltered, but quickly felt enraged. “Hah! As if you ever could have? You’re the King’s daughter! You were given a family that loved you, that spoiled you. I came from nothing! Until Amor felt pity for me. I went from some street pauper to a noble. But in return? The one I loved the most always died! A curse I could never escape no matter how many hundreds of times I rewound!”

“Then why Darren?” I asked, snapping at her. “Why choose him if you loved Estel so much?”

Her grip on the bars tightened, her smile twisting. “Because Darren’s heart was the key. The Black Dragon’s heart has enough power to turn back time. That is all he was to me. A vessel. A tool. I thought if I could just use him, I could save Estel. That I could rewrite the world until it bent to my will.” She laughed again, though it sounded more like a sob. “But no matter how many times I looped, no matter what I did… Estel always died. Every timeline, every path, the world mocked me, Rosaria. And when you finally became more aware of things changing, you ruined everything! You did so easily what I never could. You saved him.. It's not fair…”

Her voice broke, her nails scraping blood against the metal. “Why you? Why you, when it should have been me? I loved him first! I gave up everything, I became a monster for him! And still he chose you! You, who clung onto him like a leech, despite him never loving you, never looking your way…”

Her laughter rose into something unnerving. It echoed off the stone walls until it barely sounded human, until it collapsed into ragged sobs. She pressed her forehead to the bars, her shoulders shaking along with the bars of the cell. “I never wanted to hate him. I never wanted to hate anyone. But after so many lifetimes, what was left of me except hate? What else could I be but this?”

I stood frozen, my fingers curled tightly against the bars. My chest ached, and not just from anger. For so long I loathed her. I hated her for always choosing Darren in the novels. Always shattering Estel’s heart. For being adored when she felt like nothing but a manipulative heroine to me.

But looking at her now, broken and twisted, I only felt pity, and remorse. I had done this to her. I decided to change Estel’s fate, along with Darren’s.

Historia had been the heroine so many girls adored. The girl who lived the dreams we projected onto her, our self-insert into her world. She was meant to be radiant, a savior, someone loved. King and beautiful, the heroine who was flawless to a fault, and fought her demons in great strength… And now she was nothing but a shell, locked away in the dark, clinging to a love she had destroyed with her own hands, over and over.

I still felt a tinge of anger, but I pitied her more. No one should be forced to watch the person they love die over and over until even their devotion curdled into madness. No one should live through that kind of torment.

And yet, part of me felt guilty. Because despite all her failures, all her cruelty, Historia had been the self-insert of countless girls who read her story and wanted to be her. To see her like this, hollow and lost, was like watching those dreams crumble into ash.

Historia retreated back, huddling in a corner as she hugged her legs close to her. Her whispers followed me as I left the dungeon, a haunting mantra I don’t think I could ever erase from my mind. “Next time… I will save him. Next time he will smile. Next time… next time…”

But there would be no next time. Not for Historia.

Things slowly went back to normal… or as normal as they could get. Buildings were being rebuilt. School was back in session…

And I…

…

…

I was fading.

It started slowly. The tips of my fingers phased through like they did before.. Until it spread to my whole hand. Sometimes I was even afraid to go out when my whole arm phased in and out of existence like a ghost. Time was running out… The story had ended, and I, an outside, was being pushed out.

My reflection in the mirror grew faint at times, sometimes switching between Rosaria and my old self.. My body was turning less substantial with each passing day. I tried to ignore it at first, tried to pretend it was only exhaustion from the fight, but the truth gnawed at me every time I looked at my own hand and saw the faint glow of the world beyond shining through.

One day, when I was hiding from my whole arm phasing out, Amanda and Sylvia barged into my student apartment. Classes had finally continued in mid spring, and the Phasing became more frequent, and terrified me of what was to come. Would I go back to my old world? Or would I cease to exist from both planes?

We sat in my room one evening, the curtains drawn, the faint hum of the academy’s outside muffled. Their faces were pale as I showed them, holding out my hand as it slipped through the edge of the blanket without resistance.

“I.. I’m vanishing… Does… Does this happen to you two?,” I whispered.

Amanda had grabbed my wrist immediately, as if to hold me in place, her eyes fierce with denial. “No… No it doesn’t Rose.”

“But look,” I said, and I pressed my hand against the wooden floor. It phased through, vanishing past the surface before I pulled it back. “It is happening more each day. Soon there will be nothing left of me.”

Sylvia sat quietly, her silver eyes sharp and sorrowful. Then she said, “That is because ..”

I blinked at her. “Because what?”

“Because…” she said. “Because… It’s time.. And.. Sylvia and I will be waiting.”

Her words haunted me. Waiting for what? For the end? For my demise? For damnation? It made me frown, and with how casual Amanda was with the whole situation… I almost wanted to yell at her, and shake her for answers.

“Rose,” Sylvia said in her usual calm voice. “We’re outsiders in this whole ordeal. We don’t belong to this world. We’re… essentially going back home.”

I felt my heart drop. Home… Home where life would be mundane. Home, where magic didn’t exist. Home where Estel, Darren, Baron Drewitt, the Professors, or even Historia were just characters on the pages of a book. Home… Where I wasn’t even sure if I was still alive or not.

Now that the days had grown warmer, summer was creeping into the air, and the Academy was holding its final ball of the year. The halls were alive with music, laughter, and perfume. Girls dressed in gowns the color of gemstones. Boys in pressed uniforms with medals gleaming. It should have been a night to remember. A night of joy. The school's annual ball.

I couldn’t bring myself to go. In fact, I rarely left my student apartment aside from classes. Sylvia and Amanda’s words hit. And with more and more of my body phasing in and out of existence. I felt my own darkness in my heart come back. The fear and misery of having to live with living in agony again from losing people I loved. Only this time, it wasn’t just Edward, or a version of Estel in a book… It was a whole community of people. The Drewitts, the people in the academy, and the people in the kingdom. All of them, gone.

I sat on the floor of my small apartment, the dress I had been given was still on the mannequin. A beautiful silvery pink gown fit for a Saintess, and yet, at this moment… I only felt like Rose, not Rosaria. My hands were clasped tightly around my legs as I listened to the muffled music drifting from the grand hall. The sound made my chest ache.

That was when the knock came.

“Rosaria?”

The voice was steady, familiar. My heart lurched, and I almost wished it wasn’t him. But when the door opened, Estel stepped inside. He dressed in his formal uniform, the silver trim gleaming in the lamplight. Gods, he looked every bit handsome as he could be. His eyes swept over the empty room, and then landed on me.

“Why aren't you at the ball?” he asked, though his voice softened when he saw me sitting there, small and pale against the floor.

I tried to smile, but the effort broke into something brittle. “I… didn’t feel like celebrating.”

He closed the door quietly and sat across from me, next to the mirror. That was when he saw it, my hand half-transparent, fading against my leg. His eyes widened and his breathing stopped.

“Rosaria,” he whispered, coming closer. His hand reached for mine, and though his fingers closed around me, the contact felt muted, like he was grasping at a mirage. His mismatched eyes widened with horror. “You... What's happening?.”

I laughed softly, though my chest tightened. “I’m fading away.. Never to be seen again… Never to be someone in this world again.”

He shook his head, his grip tightening as if he could anchor me here by force of will. “No. You can’t… you can’t just… vanish.”

“It’s the truth,” I said. My voice wavered, but I forced myself to look at him. “And before it happens, I want to tell you everything… I think… It’s only right I tell you… Not like it will matter in the end.”

His eyes met mine, steady, waiting for the inevitable.

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to prevent myself from crying, from utterly falling into misery. “I’m not Rosaria Drewitt or.. I guess Rosaria Romancio, since… you know... King's Daughter and all. My name is close though… Rose.. Rose Evergreen. I came from another world. A world where this life, your life, was nothing more than ink on paper. A story by Amor, who in my world, isn’t a goddess… But an Author. I read it all. I knew you before I even met you.”

His eyes widened, but he didn’t dare mutter a word. His full attention on me, like every word would change the fate of the universe itself.

“I knew you as Estel Misfortuna, a tragic character in a book. I thought… I thought I loved you because… you reminded me of someone I had already held close in my heart. I projected him onto you, and I thought that was love. I fell in love with the you, who was in between the pages of a book.” My throat closed, but I pressed on. “But it wasn’t fair to you. It was selfish of me to see you as someone else instead of who you truly are. Especially when I came to this world… You’re your own person, your own being… and… I learned that the hard way…”

His hand trembled, but his gaze never left me.

“I guess… It's stupid of me to say this now, even when I realized how selfish it is.. And .. Maybe you don’t feel the same..,” I whispered, tears blurring my sight. And yet, the thought lingered in my mind. Should I tell him? It will only hurt him if I fade anyway… But.. with how rapidly I’ve grown to fade.. This may be the last and only chance…

“I love you. Not just as a character in a story. Not as a replacement for someone. But as you, Estel. As the boy who tried so hard to live under the shadow of fate. As the man who still stood even when the world crumbled around him. As someone, who I got to know as my time as Rosaria, someone, who loved you just as much as I do. Someone, who also tried to fight to save you from your demise… I love you, Estel…”

For a long moment, silence filled the room. The music from the ball felt so distant, like it belonged to another world entirely. The only sound in the room was the small sniffling coming from me, as I saw more and more of me was fading away… and would most likely consume me. Time… was almost over. Because, All versions of this world ended at the Ball, and this world would be no different…

Estel exhaled, his hand rising to brush the tears from my cheek. His touch was warm, achingly real.

“All this time,” he said softly, his voice breaking, “I was so blind. I clung to Historia because she was my anchor. Because she was the one I thought I had to protect. I thought love meant loyalty, even when it tore me apart. I ignored you, and Rosaria, even when you were always there. Even when you confessed to me, I was cruel, because I did not want to believe I could love anyone else.”

He lowered his head, his forehead pressing to mine. “I was a fool. To think Historia had been turning time, over and over. Just to act the hero as she let me and Darren die for her sick practices… But now… now I see it. I cared for you, Rose and Rosaria. I just refused to admit it...”

My chest cracked open with sobs I had been holding for so long. Relief, sorrow, love, all tangled into one. He lifted my hand, the one that hadn’t faded yet and pressed a kiss to it, his lips trembling. “Thank you, Rose Evergreen. For loving me even when I didn’t deserve it. Thank you, for keeping both Darren and I alive, and making us see who the true villain in this cursed cycle was.”

I laughed through the tears, shaking my head. “You’re making this harder, you know? I’m supposed to let go, not cling on tighter than I need to. My time in this world is over… Who knows when and if I can ever return...”

“Then, let me be selfish too,” he said, his voice raw. His expression gentle, with a hint of utter remorse.

I looked at him, memorizing every detail. His mismatched eyes, his silver hair falling across his brow, the warmth of his hand holding mine. Even as my body grew fainter, even as the world blurred, he was the only thing that stayed sharp and clear. The character… No.. the person, who my heart hurt so much for. More than something written about in words, more than illustrations on a digital post…

“I love you,” I whispered one last time. “Not the Estel in the book. Not the shadow of anyone…. You. Just you. And if this were the ending of a book… I would hope some day, you would love me… after the last page turned.”

He closed the distance, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was soft and desperate all at once. A kiss that felt like both a beginning and an end. I could feel myself losing sense of myself, Estel's kiss, only feeling like a whisper in the back of my consciousness….

“Then I‘ll wait past the last page for you… Rose...”

And as the world faded to black, his warmth was the last thing I carried with me.