🐦🐦🐦
I was deep in thought as I climbed the spiral stairs step by step. For the longest time, a question had burned in the back of my mind—why did all the descendants of the bird priestesses in the creation myth vanish one after another into the gaps of history? If the title of Wagtail Priestess passed from mother to daughter, our powers activating each generation in the woman with the purest blood, in theory, the priestesses shouldn’t have disappeared even if the primary family died out. So why were there so pitifully few of us on the continent?
And an even bigger question: why did I have memories of a previous life in the first place? I wasn’t born with them. In fact, I only started to recall them roughly around the time I experienced my awakening as the Wagtail Priestess. I had no way to ask her right then, but I suspected that my mother also remembered a past life. Throughout my childhood, she sometimes mentioned nonsensical words or concepts, and occasionally solved problems with innovative solutions that no one else could have conceived.
What if, through those memories, she had known the preordained destiny of her daughter, Sai Cutrettola? She had tried to drill as much knowledge into me as she could when I was a child, teaching me various ways to make a livelihood. What if that was because she wanted me to have the means to survive no matter my destiny?
If my suspicions were correct, all priestesses possessed memories of a previous life. But for some unknown reason, despite the automatic inheritance to the woman with the least diluted bloodline, those priestesses disappeared.
Then there were the Saints, summoned from another world. Regardless of where one searched, no records or documents of their lives after they performed their miracles could be found.
“The priestesses exist to return the Saint to her original world,” I whispered to myself. By speaking out loud, I was telling myself to accept my fate. “This world…uses priestesses to send the Saint, a foreign entity, back to her own. Only the priestesses know that the Saint isn’t holy or sacred… Because the priestesses are aware that the Saint is merely a player assuming the role of the game’s protagonist…”
If I was right, then I knew the method to return the player to her original world. The bad ending of the game was a “Sent Home” result wherein the protagonist fails to accomplish her mission as the Saint. In my previous life, the cutscene illustration of that ending had appeared to be just a fancy pattern across the screen, but I’d since realized exactly what it was.
It was an ancient technique that cost powerful mana and the caster’s life in order to connect two different planes of existence—a spell that the modern mages of my current world couldn’t cast because the ancient religion that was its source had morphed from its initial state, the magic lost to time.
But I could replicate it. I could construct the pattern using my memories of my previous life, and my mana pool was that of the powerful and legendary Wagtail Priestess. So many past priestesses must have sacrificed their bloodlines and, indeed, their very lives, to bridge the two worlds. And I would do the same.
With every step up the winding stair, I reminisced about all the happiness I had experienced. My simple and blissful childhood in Centoria. My painful but determined existence after parting with my parents, forging onward with a small light of hope in my chest. The people I had met in Orient and the joy I had found there.
“I’m sorry, Emperor Haruka.” Alone, I whispered a selfish and egoistic apology to him. “If I don’t do this, the Saint will eventually destroy this world. From my memories of my previous life, I know what calamity she can wreak if she is not stopped. I need to do this because I want to protect everyone…and you.”
He’s going to be furious, I thought. I wondered whether he would be able to pick himself up again after I was gone. But he was a dignified emperor who had always accepted all his responsibilities with a resolute smile. Even I’m not around…I’m sure he’ll be fine.
I was scared to leave him behind and all alone,. Yet I was even more frightened that he would suffer misfortune if I didn’t fulfill my destiny.
“I love you, Emperor Haruka. I fell in love with you at first sight, from the moment I saw you in my previous life.”
Words poured out of my mouth like raindrops. Oddly, I felt very…happy. Content. As I scaled higher and higher, my resolve strengthened.
“Your silky, ivory hair, your ash-blue eyes the color of the distant sky, your skin as fair as your snowy empire, your pristine white silk clothing that flutters elegantly like queen of the night flowers… Your majestic golden eagle wings, your—”
The sensation of your soft lips on mine, the heat of your palms…
My entire body sang its affection for him. My love overflowed, sweet like the nectar of a flower in full bloom.
“I like it all—your warmth, the scent of your skin, the slightly painful prick of your canines. Your talent in making tea, how your tone is identical to Lord Raiya’s when you’re speaking solemnly, how you like it when I touch the base of your wings, how you…” I swallowed. “…How you’re a little more emotional than rational, and how when you’re not careful, you reflexively change the weather… I never told you, but I loved you, every single part of you.”
Where no one was present to hear me, I voiced my love so desperately that I almost felt as if I were shouting my throat hoarse. My words didn’t echo, instead melting into the stone walls.
“I loved you, Your Majesty, Emperor Haruka. Thank you for choosing me.”
When I disappeared, my younger sister would become the next Wagtail Priestess. I was sure that as the wife of the Gou heir, she would protect Emperor Haruka. See? There are plenty of people who can replace m—
Re…place?
I stilled. “Wait.”
I felt as though I had been struck by lightning, petrified.
“I have a younger sister… And my mother likely knew the true duty of the Wagtail Priestess from…her memories of her previous life…” Everything suddenly clicked into place, and I was reeling in shock, my mind blank.
“Ah… I see, so that’s how it is, Mom…”
My feet felt light, as if the weight of my body had abruptly halved. I gripped my skirts and ran up the stairs.
My mother likely had memories of a previous life. And she knew that the priestess was a human sacrifice for the elimination of the Saint. That was why she had gone to Meridiona, feigned her death, and birthed my younger sister in absolute secrecy. Because she wanted there to be as many women with the blood and powers of the Wagtail Priestess as possible.
Through Lord Kuze, she would know that I was going to banish the Saint to another world. In that case…maybe I can bet on the slim chance that I can come back to this world one day.
“Your Majesty…”
Facing the door at the very top of the stairs, I caressed the earring I had received from the emperor.
“…I love you.”
✦ ✦ ✦
🐦🐦🐦
THE door opened to reveal Saint Lilly, who looked over at me with a smile. Even then, maids probably still attended to her—she wore a beautiful white dress as she sat on a canopy bed. Her vivid neon pink hair flowed freely down her back, draping to the sheets like silk.
“Took you long enough, Wagtail Priestess.”