"…Forget it."
In the end, he chose to stop thinking.
If so many questions had appeared, the biggest problem was probably him.
If he hadn't decided to rot and "just go through the motions" in several previous cycles, maybe he would already have answers by now.
Or…
Maybe some questions simply had no answers.
After all, the Tarnished weren't welcome on this land. Every faction wanted them erased.
And even among the Tarnished, it was endless scheming—countless splinter groups, each with their own agendas.
So why think so much?
Better to go see Fia—someone he hadn't seen in far too long.
He closed the group chat and turned toward the open doorway beside him.
As for Fia… it was hard to put into words.
Affection?
Mutual need?
He couldn't quite pin it down.
But respect—there was no doubt about that.
Even if she was the Deathbed Companion.
Tap. Tap.
The hard soles of his boots clicked against the floorboards, the sound weaving with the quiet crackle of the fire in the hearth, forming a strange little duet.
The room's furnishings were unchanged, as though time had never touched them.
The first thing that caught his eye was the massive portrait of the Erdtree on the wall—
Except the trunk was shaped like the Eternal Queen, Marika, arms spread wide, as if she had been hung there.
It was disturbingly accurate.
Almost identical to Marika's real condition.
Sometimes the paintings in the Lands Between were eerie like that—as if they reflected the future.
Like the one in Stormveil Castle.
Like this one.
If he could, he truly wanted to meet the artist who painted them.
Yet despite the room's quiet and the faint fragrance lingering in the air, there was nothing especially "girlish" about it.
Beside the bed sat a small round table: a candle burned down to its midpoint, a book, and a teapot.
Perhaps that was Fia's only pastime here in the Roundtable Hold.
And Fia herself seemed indifferent to all of it.
She sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her loose dark robe concealing her figure, as though she had been waiting for her champion to arrive.
His footsteps echoed softly.
Fia, her head covered by a wide hood, lifted her gaze and offered him a gentle smile.
"O champion, guided by Grace… it is our first meeting.
A pleasure. My name is Fia."
"First meeting. Hello, Lady Fia."
Seeing that familiar face, something like nostalgia surfaced in his eyes.
A delicate beauty that could topple kingdoms—bright green eyes, a hint of life in them, and with her movement a strand of pale golden hair slipped loose.
Everything felt familiar.
Truly like their first meeting.
Across countless cycles, others would change in subtle ways—
Yet Fia remained the same.
Or perhaps she had changed… and he had simply never noticed.
"O champion… would you allow me to hold you? Just for a moment…"
Her voice softened.
"I hope you will share with me a measure of your vigor—your will to live.
And while I hold you, let me feel your warmth… and grant you what little blessing I can.
…Would you find this shameful?"
At the very end, there was a trace of uncertainty in her tone.
Because in the Tarnished's eyes, she didn't see desire.
What she saw was something clean and pure—without a single impurity.
It made her feel, for a moment, unworthy.
"Of course not. If I may… I'd like a hug from you as well."
"…Thank you."
Fia slowly opened her arms, offering him her embrace.
And he allowed her to draw him in, little by little, until he was held against her.
That familiar touch.
That familiar scent.
It had been far too long.
A faint drowsiness rose within him.
He could clearly feel a thin strand of vitality leaving his body, flowing into hers.
But it didn't matter.
At his current level, losing such a tiny amount meant nothing.
Or rather—
Even knowing he would lose something, he still wanted to enjoy Fia's embrace.
In a land filled with lies, deceit, and slaughter…
Only the embraces of Melina, Ranni, and Fia could give him this kind of warmth.
But compared to Melina and Ranni, Fia's embrace carried a little more life.
A faint heartbeat reached his ear through that softness—
And the rhythm seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.
"…So warm…"
The words were like a dream murmured into his ear.
And while she savored the warmth, Fia was quietly startled.
She could feel it.
This Tarnished's vitality was monstrous—stronger than anyone she had ever held.
How can a living flame burn so fiercely…?
Yet even so, she took only the smallest thread.
And in exchange, she bestowed her unique blessing into him.
"Now, what I have kindled within you… is the Baldachin's Blessing.
But it is brief, and it fades quickly…
So when you need my blessing, come to me again.
Any time… as many times as you wish… I will hold you again…"
"I understand. Thank you, Lady Fia."
He eased himself free and stood.
For a brief instant, he felt a strange emptiness open inside his chest.
Looks like I'll need to go get a hug from my wife later…
With that thought, under Fia's quiet gaze, he turned and headed for the door.
As for Fia… he didn't know how to judge her.
What he felt wasn't the same fierce devotion he held for Melina and Ranni.
Toward Fia, it was something else—
A pity for the Deathbed Companion's fate, and the brief solace she offered.
He felt no disgust at all for what she was.
Because it wasn't Fia who chose that role.
Fate forced it upon her—just as fate had dragged him into this world as Tarnished.
The difference was that Fia didn't resist.
Perhaps she couldn't.
Perhaps she simply accepted it.
And in the Lands Between, what she did was, in its own way, a sacred ritual.
And when he had been at his lowest—
When he needed comfort most, when madness clawed at his heart—
It had still been Fia who stayed with him quietly.
She never demanded more than she should.
Never asked for more than she deserved.
Even when she killed D, she only asked him to deliver a dagger.
In the end, she bore the sin alone, and faced the pursuit of D's brother alone.
Whenever you found Fia, she would give you an embrace—without condition.
Even if your request was a little too much, she would still accept.
The hundreds of Deathbed Dress he had stashed away were proof enough.
Yes.
Tap—tap—
As he stepped out, he heard Roderika calling him.
"…L-Lord Tarnished."
She looked… a little shy.
"Ah, Roderika. What is it?"
His tone was casual. He wasn't surprised.
He had seen this kind of reaction many times in previous cycles.
"…You… you just came out of Lady Fia's room, didn't you?"
"Yes. I paid Lady Fia a brief visit. Why?"
"N-No reason…"
Roderika's voice grew smaller, her head lowering and lowering until it nearly disappeared into her chest.
She had heard things about Fia.
Especially after Hewg had warned her not to approach Fia's room.
But the Roundtable Hold wasn't large.
So even if she avoided the place, she still knew what people whispered.
Yet Roderika held no prejudice.
If anything, she admired Fia—admired her for carrying out her duty as a Deathbed Companion.
And still…
What was this strange feeling deep in her chest?
He didn't notice her turmoil.
After a simple greeting, he pulled out his map and studied it.
"…All right. I'll head to the Weeping Peninsula again. And while I'm at it… I'll check on Teacher Sellen."
Decision made, he walked to the Site of Grace and fast-traveled to the Waypoint Ruins Cellar.
The familiar dizziness washed over him like a tide—
Then quickly receded.
When he opened his eyes again, he was in that familiar, dim basement.
"Oh… my apprentice. You've finally come."
This time, Sorceress Sellen wasn't buried in research.
She looked like she had been waiting for him.
"Have you rescued Master Lusat?"
"…I'm sorry, Teacher Sellen. Master Lusat… is already dead."
He lowered his eyes, wearing a perfectly sorrowful expression—like someone who truly had gone to the Sellia Hideaway and searched until there was nothing left to find.
In earlier cycles, his lies might have been exposed.
But now?
Flawless acting.
For that, he really did owe Merlin a debt.
Sellen saw his face and believed him without hesitation.
"…Oh. I see. That is… unfortunate…"
As if to hide her grief, she turned away.
But the slight tremble in her voice betrayed her completely.
Seeing her like that stirred a faint guilt in his heart.
He felt as though he had wronged her—this teacher who had always looked out for him.
But he had no choice.
For her sake—her future—this was the only path.
"Teacher, although I couldn't save Master Lusat… I learned a new glintstone sorcery."
"Hmm?"
Sellen turned—and immediately panicked when she saw him preparing to cast in the cellar.
"W-Wait. My apprentice."
"What is it, Teacher Sellen?"
He looked genuinely confused.
"…If you're going to cast, do it outside."
She weighed it quickly and made the decision.
The reason was simple:
Last time, his Stars of Ruin nearly tore the cellar apart.
If he cast something stronger now, her basement would be gone.
And everything in it—
The work of many years—
Would vanish with it.
"Fine."
He shrugged, not understanding, but obediently followed her outside.
Sellen's bare feet stepped onto grass.
She couldn't remember how long it had been since she had stood beneath open sky.
Even if her body here was only a projection, the sensation still reached her.
In the end, she led him to a hill near the ruins, pointing toward a sentry in the distance.
"My apprentice… use that soldier as your target."
"Understood."
He nodded and raised Lusat's Glintstone Staff.
A vast surge of magic gathered at its tip—
Then a dark green torrent erupted like a flood.
The soldier didn't even have time to cry out before the raging stream swallowed him whole.
"…Oh. This sorcery…"
Sellen's voice carried surprise—and shock—
And beneath it, excitement.
And also, a deep relief at her own choice.
Thank the stars I didn't let him do that in my cellar…
"My apprentice… you met Master Azur, didn't you?"
"Yes. This sorcery—Comet Azur—was given to me by the master himself."
"…But he's dead."
He nodded firmly, apology blooming silently in his heart.
Forgive me, Master Azur. This is for Teacher Sellen. So you'll have to be sacrificed as well.
Sellen didn't notice the guilt he hid.
Instead, she continued, pride and emotion rising in her voice.
"…Is that so…"
"Master Azur founded glintstone sorcery. He was my first teacher."
There was nostalgia in her tone.
"Do you understand? Master Azur was famous for his severity… and yet he acknowledged you."
One after another, the great masters fell away, and it left an unpleasant ache in her chest.
But at least—
At least Master Azur had left a successor.
At least her road toward the Primeval Current would no longer be walked alone.
She looked at him again, her expression growing stern—yet carrying unmistakable approval.
"…My apprentice. I told you I was expelled from the Academy of Raya Lucaria. You remember that, yes?"
She walked to the edge of the cliff and faced the distant silhouette of the Academy, letting the wind tug at her robe.
Whether he remembered or not, she continued anyway.
"The reason is because I sought to revive the Primeval Current—the origin of glintstone sorcery!"
"Not that hollow scholarship the Academy's royals toy with—magic stripped of its core, reduced to petty displays of learning!"
Her voice rose sharply.
Anger and bitterness spilled out together.
Everything she had done had been for the Academy's future—
And yet those stubborn old fools had treated her like a criminal.
Now, with things as they were, what could she do?
All she could do was vent.
What she didn't realize was that the Academy's actions had, in a twisted way, been meant to save her.
The misunderstanding ran too deep.
"My apprentice… what I pursue is glintstone sorcery without taboo. Pure inquiry, pure exploration."
"For that… I am willing to sacrifice everything."
Sellen paused.
She drew in a deep breath.
Then, in a voice that sounded like a prayer, she spoke:
"My apprentice… I will not force you. Even teacher and student may one day walk different roads."
"But with that understood, I ask you—please."
"Will you lend your strength to the revival of the Primeval Current?"
"…Will you strive alongside me?"
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