Mean—? Before she could finish that sentence, a high-pitched sound cut her off. It looked like Benedictine waved her hands, then shattered the crystals. It was a breathtakingly clear, beautiful sound, but perhaps the crystals’ shells were too sturdy, because the crystals didn’t fully break, only cracking where they had struck each other and releasing fine fragments into the air.
Benedictine spread her hands out wide, then struck them together again—except she wasn’t gripping the crystals. They were floating in the air and following her hand movements, just inches away from her palms. They clashed against each other, and their crisp sound reverberated through Belle’s body like transparent light, particles of light forming like a mist that sprinkled warmly over Belle.
The mist of red sacred wine and steam fluttered over the bed, forming a dome-like barrier. Its interior was full of a clear, warm, pleasant aroma. Belle sighed in amazement. Taking a lungful of the thick scent, she felt her body heat up, like she was being cleansed from within. The mist fell on them in droplets, and as Belle’s body turned damp with it, she felt something moving across her skin.
It was akin to a caress—not unpleasant. The mist condensed over Belle, clinging to her body droplet after droplet and flowing down. It soon formed a pattern, and within moments, a mystical red spell surfaced all over Belle’s body.
It’s like the songs Undines sing to purify rivers and lakes…
And as soon as she thought that, a voice spoke up in Belle’s head.
They all shoulder a fate they cannot escape from. An essential fate that requires them to rely on others for their personalities, to act like parasites on the thoughts of others to construct their own heart.
It was the Guidance—the being that governed the information she was once given, that unlocked deeper knowledge as she matured—and the only connection she had left with her lost Meister.
Oh, I see.
Belle was flooded with gratitude at the realization that the Guidance’s voice took shape within her again, while at the same time feeling grief for the strange image its words drew. And finally, she felt her emotions stirred by Benedictine, her beauty and warmth, as she sang the song and scattered the mist that formed countless spells over Belle’s body.
The Sea of Spirits, which stands as the mirror image of this continent of reality…, said the Guidance. From there burst forth the pure, untainted droplets that make up the perfected forms of the Undines.
The image surfaced clearly in Belle’s mind, overlapping with the reality before her eyes. She sighed from the bottom of her heart. She felt like she was drifting in the waves of a fathomless sea. And from within those depths, transparent fragments of souls overflowed, like they were falling toward the sky. Those images passed through Belle, rising to the water’s surface like they were ascending into a snowy sky, reaching the heavens that looked like they were flooded with light, and from there descending to the material world.
And they all take in the impurities of the real world, washing it into the river leading to Limbo, where they are forgotten and dumped into the Sea of Spirits. There starts their second journey. They guard the Sea of Spirits, and to maintain its purity, clear those flaws and flow into the river known as the World of Restoration…
The World of Restoration was a place of eternity that went beyond ordinary space and time. It was far from the real world, and it contained within it every passing second and moment that ticked by in reality. The more one reached out toward it, the farther away it became—and gave the impression that its infinite expanse spread within oneself.
That place now appeared within Belle and through Benedictine, who was right before her.
Looking ahead, Belle saw the last pieces of the crystals in Benedictine’s hands scatter into the air. Once she was done with them, her hands began caressing Belle’s body, covering her scars while softly singing the song for the Spells on her, the Mermaid’s lips running over the spells and softly sucking them up, healing Belle.
Memories of pain vividly surfaced all through Belle’s body. Spurred on by Benedictine, Belle willingly set the painful memories of her assault free. Benedictine’s supple fingers and thick lips slid over Belle’s body, healing the pain of those wounds, as if to take them on herself.
Serenity and warmth and a sweet numbness filled the air washing over her body, and at the same time Belle felt it seep into her, overflowing. Her bare body trembled, feeling like it was melting into the air, glistening with a faint light. She found herself closing her eyes, tears running down her cheeks, her limbs moving about as she opened herself up to Benedictine.
“Your defilements and purities, pain and rapture… You will lose nothing.”
As she was feverishly drunk on the mist of sacred wine, she heard Benedictine whisper. The whispers grew distant, only lingering faintly in her ears.
“Those dregs shall simply…return… Only I know of it… With you…”
Benedictine’s voice was like a ripple from afar, her words wavering, reverberating. Belle fought off the sleepiness and opened her eyes, urgently trying to keep her eyes fixed on the Mermaid.
“I’ll go…with you, too… To those depths…”
A feverish tone. Perhaps it was her own voice speaking. But then everything flashed white behind her eyes. A sensation filled her up in both heart and body, making her throw back her head and breathe out hard. Her body twitched and her back arched from the intense wave surging over her, leaving Belle trembling in a burning afterglow. A sizzling wave rushed through her insides, washing away what remained of her consciousness and leaving behind only hazy fatigue.
“So that someday…we will tell each other of our respective journeys…”
Belle’s throat clenched, trying to respond, but all that came out was a groan. Not yet, she thought. I haven’t said it yet. I haven’t said good-bye yet.
“Farewell, Belle.”