Eleanor bit back the waves of anxiety that tore at her sanity, her choice set in stone as she passed through the doorway
Neither option was better than the other, each offering equal benefit at an equal cost.
Yet, in the end, the blonde-haired child would place her faith in another, allowing her own selfish desires to win at least once in an ocean of selfless decisions.
And as she gazed at the small book that was propped open upon a lectern inside the chamber, she could only exhale breathlessly.
Aaron Grimstall's soul would endure on its own, she told herself.
That is why, at the final moment before either option would become impossible, she gave in to the left-most choice.
After three trials, she stood silently within the Chamber of Eternal Rest, the information she had come for likely situated within the papers ahead.
Looking back at the door behind her, she felt a transparent wall bar her from return, the time for selection now over.
To prevent the emotions from eating away at her any more than they already could, she filled her thoughts with what lay before her.
The room was medium-sized with very little decoration besides the central altar, the air frigid but not freezing, as if it verged on the brink of certainty.
Biting her lip nervously, the girl exhaled, and then inhaled the air that had sat stagnant for what could be millennia, the Chamber of Eternal Rest not one of easy accessibility.
Feeling it pass nicely through her lungs, albeit with a chill, she began to walk towards the center with a hurried pace, disregarding the lingering pain of the wound, which, while numbed by the positive effects of the Aether, still burned with a ferocity comparable to that of flame.
As she approached, the pages whirled as if blown by the wind, name after name appearing faster than she could read.
Even after standing before the lectern and placing her hands on the book, she could barely decipher a thing.
Located at the top left, runic characters were forged into a miniature image that resembled various powerful symbols.
To begin, it sat open on a page with names written in a dotted language; the symbol resembled that of a sword and spear, which, as written in the Tome of Blood used by the Knights of Crimson, represented their final destination after an honorable death in combat.
Deaths related to their so-called 'final destination'?
She flipped the pages until the mystical book began to cycle through on its own, an endless stream of knowledge passing through each slip of paper that shot by at a speed unreadable to any mortal.
Eleanor noticed that not too long after it had started its sorting process, the ink began to change, shift towards that of a sea-green glow.
In the top left, a miniature wave formed an arch over what appeared to be a smudge of color in the direct center of the runic character.
An error in the Divine Authority's manifestation?
Based on her own intellect, it was almost certain that the pages marked with this symbol would be the Dimension of Waves, and anything contrary would surprise her more than anything else she had seen that day.
Now…
She closed her eyes, placing her pale hand over the book, reciting a chant quietly under her breath.
「Seek」
Envisioning the face of Aaron Grimstall, she felt the hum of pages beneath her fingers, a sinking feeling rippling through her body.
Then, as a flash of mana shot through her pores and into the surface she designated, the papers began to turn one after another.
In a flurry of movement, the pages arrived at a place close to the end of the endless tome, the mana circulating around a certain line in the text.
Eleanor's breath hitched as she read it aloud, the first name she had so desperately wished to check and prayed to never find, resting beneath her fingers.
However, as she read, her brow furrowed inward, and her heartbeat quickened.
"Aaron Grimstall. Cause of Death: Arianna Moon."
Even as the girl clearly read the word 'death' on the page, she doubled back to it, staring at a thick blotch of ink stricken through that one word.
W-was he resuscitated?
Flipping through the pages wildly in search of another person who had died, but had been brought back through the miracle of reincarnation, she only found one other name, one that was an obvious outlier in the data.
"Orion Cosmoti. Cause of Death: Suicide."
Exactly the same as Aaron's, the word 'death' was stricken clean through; however, the cause of death was different.
The Great Prophet of Luck committed suicide…? What could've…
The ground beneath her feet rumbled intensely as if the room itself was breathing, a rush of air exploding from another wall.
Stone began to shift, and dust fell from the ceiling in clumps, the blonde-haired child's eyes darting around wildly.
"That's a…"
Now located directly across from the entrance, a staircase shot upward, allowing free passage up its lofty climb.
The exit.
Bringing her index finger to her lips, she thought quietly to herself about the meaning before sighing.
I can't stay here forever, and it's warning me to act quickly… I can't waste time… I need to discover the name of Lady Esmerelda's body.
Placing her palm back on the papers, she watched as the names of the possibly former Sea King and Aaron Grimstall vanished, replaced with one still being drawn in real time.
Watching as the names appeared, Eleanor debated inwardly over the method by which one could actually locate the information she desired.
Searching with the Seek spell is nearly impossible without a name and a face, which is exactly what I'm looking for. If I use Decipher, that will only simplify the text into understandable patterns and rhythms that would help me figure out how they are listed. But what I really need is a date-locator spell… I know Lady Esmerelda arrived on January 1st, Abyssal Convergence, so if I could just…
A sudden thought occurred to her.
The Mark of Dreams!
Shutting her eyes tight until she felt the muscles begin to tremble, she could vividly make out a small symbol buried in the darkness of her mind.
Granting the gift of dream-related foresight, the Mark of Dreams is borne by those in the Sea of Dreams, a powerful ability that has produced many great seers throughout the ages.
The highest of prophets, a woman whose identity was strictly guarded and whose privacy was hidden, was a member of the Oceanic Association, providing information that perhaps only a King born in the Sea of Dreams might be able to tell.
Attempting to use the ability intentionally was all but impossible, much less while awake; however, with time running thin and a unique environment around her, Eleanor had no choice.
As such, she blindly allowed the Mark of Dreams to pollute her thoughts with dreams, the vivid nightmares, visions, and oddities all circulating at once.
Her searing headache spiked, her blood pressure rose, and her wound blackened as if becoming rotten.
The flesh on her forehead started to grow with an unusual purple fungus that resembled a lotus flower, while her skin bubbled with pustules.
Her blonde hair fell out in bloodied clumps as she struggled to maintain the state of lucidity even through the agony.
Teeth rattled, muscles spasmed, and blood boiled as she resisted the urge to scream out in liquid agony.
Such a magical engraving should've been impossible to push so far, yet the authority of the God of Dreams had no place within Death's domain.
Plowing forward with absolute certainty, her mind, on the verge of collapse, resounded with a single prophecy.
A short chant that could hardly be called conventional, one so odd and unusual that she would've done a double-take if she hadn't been sprawled against the floor, clawing at her stomach.
The Aether, which had been numbing the pain, gradually began to fade into its stagnant form, a lack of mana drawing the last of its energy into preventing the wound from opening.
Eleanor's vision swayed, and vomit erupted from her mouth, a dizziness shaking her figure until it was nearly motionless.
Not only that, but with the fresh signals of pain, her brain sent her into shock, her pupils dilating and her body threatening to go rigid.
Yet this wasn't the first time; the days long passed during the war, ones of starvation, despair, and grief, far more vile and devastating than a simple mental breakdown.
Propping herself up against the side of the lectern like a dying soldier, she used the remainder of her strength to grab the book upon the table, pulling it down to her eye level.
There, she watched as her blood soaked the pages and the black names were blotted out, the only registry of their death now covered in another's life.
She couldn't look back, her control over her body failing as the seconds went on, and her only goal was right before her eyes.
Verging on a panic attack as well, she inhaled and exhaled hard, barely able to conjure enough mana for one final spell.
「Convergentia Ianuarii」
Eleanor could only lean backwards with relief as the spell took immediate effect, the pages shifting so rapidly that she thought she might get burned if she dared touch them.
Such a scene continued for what felt like hours to the suffering girl, who let out groans of pain far more often than she so wished.
But as it came to its conclusion, and the page listing those who had died at the earliest time on January 1st, 3125, appeared, she tried to look at the first name.
It was almost certain that it would be the first one listed, and as she gazed upon it, she felt a knot in her chest begin to unravel.
She couldn't isolate the feeling, nor replicate it, only read further, discovering the words that would singlehandedly change everything she considered rational.
"Cause of Death: Corruption"
The word seemed foreign yet familiar, the very same thing that she had devoted her time in the Great Beyond to cure, now appearing before her once more.
Slowly, as her vision swayed and her consciousness waned, she tried to look left, the two pieces of a name clear to her for only an instant.
"Ruby Grimstall."