Angeline crouched and cowered, holding her head. She was like a young child trying to make herself smaller out of fear. Her arms and legs had already turned as black as the other shadowy figures, and that darkness had already slowly crept farther up her body, now encroaching on her face.
The wind whipped around her like a vicious storm, causing the black fog to spiral around. The howling wind was almost like a scornful laugh, sneering at her misfortune.
“Urgh...”
It’s your fault. If it hadn’t been for you, no one would have had to suffer.
A voice had continued to scream out in her head all the while. Percival, Kasim, Satie, and Belgrieve—it felt like all of them were pointing at her in rebuke.
“Dad... Dad would never say something like that...”
The words unconsciously poured from her mouth. But the moment they entered her ears, a different voice would cry out from her heart.
Who are you calling ‘dad’? You stole his leg and snatched away the bright future he would have had. And then you infiltrated his life, pretending to be his daughter as though nothing had happened.
Ishmael—or rather, Schwartz—had been right. She was a brood parasite, a cuckoo. She—parasite that I am—had stolen his warmth and his love as though she had any right to it at all. A cuckoo would kick out the other eggs, but she was worse. She had taken the futures of Belgrieve and everyone around him.
Had he continued as an adventurer, then surely those four would have lived a blessed life as renowned adventurers. Kasim wouldn’t have been trapped by his own pessimism and fallen into misdeeds, while Percival wouldn’t have drowned in hatred, throwing himself into endless battle. Satie wouldn’t have had to experience so many tragic goodbyes. And, surely, Belgrieve would have lived a better life too.
Angeline gritted her teeth at the endless mockery of that critical voice resounding in her head. She also heard the same voice she’d heard when she’d fought that shadow in Bordeaux once upon a time.
The same! The same!
“No... I don’t...”
Tears poured from her eyes. She longed for salvation, but she knew she had no right to seek it.
Why was I even born? Why did I ever try to find happiness?
Finally, her entire body had become one with the shadows, featureless but for the clothes she wore. Her eyes and nose and mouth could no longer be discerned, and yet tears continued to pour from where her eyes had once been.
Hurry and become a demon. Hurry and forget about everything.
She tried to convince herself, but there she still was, lamenting that she couldn’t do it. A voice continued to condemn her; a voice continued to call to her. She felt like she was going crazy.
“Urgh...” she groaned. The voice that came out no longer sounded like her own.
Her mind grew hazy. Warm memories of pleasant days she had spent as Angeline flashed before her mind’s eye one by one before fading away.
Ah, now I can forget.
She felt relief—at last, she didn’t have to be Angeline anymore. Her heart, pleading and lamenting for salvation, was still in the way, but that was just a matter of time. Just like the memories, it too would eventually melt away.
Just a little longer.
“Ange.”
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard Belgrieve’s voice beyond the howling wind. It wasn’t a hallucination—she heard that voice with her own ears. She looked up to see a figure standing just beyond the violent storm.
Why?
Her slowly calming heart was once again beset by tempestuous waves.
Why did he come here? Why couldn’t he let me forget?
Angeline stood, clutching her restless heart.
“Ange, are you there?”
Don’t come any closer! she tried to cry out, though it was more like the void itself had vibrated to her will.
Even so, the figure beyond the wind came closer, first one step, then another. Angeline staggered back, beset by the simultaneous desire to race over to him and cling to him and the urge to flee.
“Come home. You don’t belong in a dark place like this.”
She fled with teetering steps.
I don’t have the right to do that! she cried out. So just leave me be!
It was almost like she was pleading with him. The figure halted, but it had already come quite close now.
Belgrieve gazed at Angeline, his red hair swaying in the breeze, his eyes as kind as ever. But now, his presence was all the more painful to Angeline, and it felt like a dagger to her heart.
He knows everything. He knows that it’s all my fault, so why can he still look at me like that? she wondered, her tears still falling ceaselessly.
Please, just leave. Angeline buried her face in her hands. Everyone was hurt because of me. I don’t have the right to be loved. It’s just painful. Someone like me...should never have been born.
“Hey, Ange,” Belgrieve called out softly.
Angeline shuddered.
“Back when you were still young, we went out for a walk one night. The moon was beautiful, and it made the nighttime dew twinkle all around us like stars. You rushed ahead and got your trousers sopping wet as you ran across the field.”
Angeline clutched her chest. The memories that should have faded were coming back to her vividly.
“One time, you woke up in the middle of the night... We drank warm goat milk together.”
Belgrieve gently set his foot forward, another step closer.
“You said you’d had a bad dream. That you were alone in the darkness. That you were terrified.”
Daddy isn’t going anywhere. The Belgrieve in her memories smiled warmly at her.
Angeline fell to her knees, holding her ears. Stop. Stop!
“Right before you set off for Orphen, daddy made a promise. Even if the whole world is against you, I’ll always be on your side.”
Stop!
“Ange... Thank you for being born. Thank you for coming to me.” Belgrieve stood right before her now, holding out his arms. “Come home.”
Angeline writhed in pain. There was a violent clash within her between the part of her that longed for her father and the part of her that rejected him. She struggled to breathe. She was in pain.
No. No! Go away!
She thrust out her hands to push him away, but without willing it herself, her shadowy arms turned into long, pointed spears. She heard a splattering sound and felt sudden warmth—the top of her right hand had pierced Belgrieve’s side.
Ah, agh...
She pulled her arm out. It was covered in blood. Her knees quivered beneath her at the realization that she had wounded him again. The voice of condemnation within her grew louder, speaking over every other thought in her head.
I knew it, I knew it, I knew it. I’m hopeless. Hopeless. I don’t have the right to be here with him.
Then, she felt a large, gentle hand pat her on the back, instantly quieting the reproachful words. She looked up at him in surprise.
Belgrieve was smiling. He didn’t appear to be even slightly pained. “It’s all right, Ange. It’s all right now.” He gently pulled her close and patted her head with the same rugged hands that had taught her to swing a sword, till a field, and that had hugged her many times—the same hands she loved.
Ah, ahhh... The shadowy carapace flaked away from Angeline’s face, revealing her fair skin. It continued to slough away until all the shadows that had covered her body were gone.
“Agh...” she mumbled through her tears.
Belgrieve held Angeline tightly, gently caressing her hair. “It must have been painful. You did well, coming back.”
“Yeah...yeah...” The inside of her chest was warm. This was the warmth she had yearned for even before she had existed. The strength drained from her body. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”
“It’s okay, Angeline. It’s okay.”
“Will you...forgive me...?”
“I forgave you from the very start. For everything.”
“Can I... Can I...” Can I really be here?
“Of course you can. You’re daddy’s little girl.” Belgrieve combed his hand through her hair.
Angeline sniffled. Her dad was her dad after all, now and forever. She lifted her eyes.
Belgrieve softly put a hand on her cheek. “That expression doesn’t suit you.”