Chương 43: Vol. 2 - You and I

ISABELLA NIGHTFALL'S POV: I jumped out of bed, beads of sweat trickling down my forehead.

"In this life, you are eleven," Azelarion had said.

"Congratulations on being awakened. We had all unanimously agreed to let you keep your memories at the age of eleven." Azelarion's words echoed through my mind. I looked at my hands.

"So I'm Ella now," I smiled.

"No, I have always been, and always will be." Then, memories flowed back to me. Mama screaming, Papa moaning, Brother rushing to my aid, the house in flames. No, no, no, no, no!

"Not this again," I clutched my head.

"Ella, I'm home," A familiar voice came from the entrance—brother. He walked in carrying a bouquet of…lavenders? But when he saw me…he dropped the flowers on the floor, mouth agape.

'That's what Ace would've done," I giggled inwardly.

"Ella…you've grown?" He asked, confused.

"A side effect of getting an element, I guess," I quickly made up an excuse.

"What element?" He questioned.

"The opposite of you, light," I said, lifting my palm. Tiny motes of light swirled around it, slowly forming a white orb of light. Thank goodness that worked, or who knows what would've happened. For now, I can't trust anyone, not even Azelarion, except for Brother. For all we know, he's the one behind all this mess. Those people took away the two people I care about in this world and continue to live freely. My eyes turned dark and murderous as killing intent filled the room.

I hope Brother can find the murderer soon, and when that time comes… I will definitely kill them. The white orb of light in my palm turned dark, as if it had absorbed all my murderous intent.

"What's wrong, Ella? You look weird," Brother hung his coat on a chair. Of course, he can't sense the darkness in my eyes; he's too strong, way too strong for anyone in this world. If it's anyone, it would be him, silently tracking them down without telling me.

"I was just thinking that now we're only two years apart," I looked up and smiled cheerfully, my eyes turning back to normal. Ah, these talents to switch personality come in handy when you were once an actress/idol. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking me how I knew.

"Azelarion told me!" I chirped. His face darkened, and his smile, which was only there when I was around, vanished. The air grew heavy. He definitely knew something. Or…judging from his expression, and as the great sister I am, I knew that he also suspected Azelarion to be behind all this.

"Brother, is something wrong?" I played the unsuspecting younger sister.

"No," He shook his head. The atmosphere returned to normal. He patted my shoulder, saying, "I got my paycheck today. I was thinking we should go out shopping." I peeked at him. He seemed…I can't tell, but sure, why not?

"Sure, Brother! There are a whole lot of things I want, no, need to buy!" I exclaimed, waving my hands up and about.

"Ok…get ready, we'll leave at night," He said. I nodded eagerly. My big brother has always been kind and loving to me, just like him. It felt special, knowing that he would only smile, talk freely, or even take off his blindfold if it was with me. But I know, the blindfold is for my own good. Wait till he can control it in a couple of weeks, knowing him, and he should be able to take it off when he's home.

"Kyu!" Stella leapt into my arms.

"Aren't you a cutie pie?" I cooed and patted her head. She curled up into a ball and slept in my lap.

"Now then," I gently placed her on my bed and stood up.

"Now that I've gotten back my memories, let's give me a nice, cute look!"

"This body is soooooo cute!" I poked my cheek. ALISTAIR NIGHTFALL'S POV: Her name was Reine. You could say we had known each other since kindergarten. While others kept their distance, she was always there—playing catch with me in empty gardens, sharing meals when no one would sit beside me, studying together in quiet corners of the classroom as if the world beyond us didn't exist. She would be there, even if others thought I was dark or creepy.

And I still remember that day as clearly as if it were carved into my bones.

"Reine! What are you looking at?" I had padded over, curiosity tugging at me. She was squatting in front of a small garden, the scent of flowers faint but soothing, her eyes fixed on a cluster of soft purple blooms.

"What are these flowers called? They're pretty," she said, gently poking one of them as if afraid it might vanish. I crouched beside her and answered, "Lavenders."

"Lavenders…" she repeated, tasting the word, thoughtful. Then she smiled at me—bright, sincere, unguarded.

"I like this flower! It's so pretty!" She never stopped coming to my house after school, staying for an hour or so to study with me. Even if I was feeling sad or broken that day. Like every child, Reine had a dream. She wanted to enter the entertainment industry. And honestly, it would have been easy for her. She was talented—she could sing, she could dance, and her features were slightly prettier than average. Not that it mattered much. Ella is obviously far prettier than she ever was, heh.

But that never diminished Reine's light. Her charm wasn't in her beauty; it was in how earnestly she loved the world, how she believed life would eventually reward kindness. But fate… is cruel. In middle school, Reine was admitted to the hospital. Late-stage lung cancer. A diagnosis that sounded unreal, too heavy for a girl who still laughed over trivial things and dreamed of stages she had never stood on.

"I brought you lavender," I said, sitting on a small stool beside her bed, placing the flowers carefully where she could see them.

"Thanks, they're pretty!" Reine exclaimed. But something was wrong. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. It felt… forced.

"Are you sure you're fine?" I asked quietly.

"The doctor said it's late-stage lung cancer. That's… serious."

"I'm fi— cough, cough!" Her body jerked violently, and blood splattered onto her palm.

"It's okay if you're not fine," I said, handing her a tissue, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be.

"You don't look fine at all." She paused, then suddenly changed the subject, as if clinging to a fragile escape.

"Hey, Ace… I just had a thought. What would you do if you ever got reincarnated?"

"Don't be silly," I replied then, unwilling to entertain such an idea.

"But… what if?" She looked straight into my eyes, deeper than she ever had before. Taking a careful breath, she answered her own question.

"I'd want to dance again. And sing." She tilted her head back slightly, gazing at the ceiling as if it were the sky.

"I'd want to look up at a blue sky and smile, thinking—'I'm so fortunate to have this life.'""If there were such a world," I said after a moment, "I'd probably become a doctor. I want to save lives instead of ending them." She raised an eyebrow. Crap.

"The world takes too many lives," I added quickly. She smiled then—a sad, knowing smile.

"Ace… can you promise me one thing?" She reached out and held my hand, her grip weak but warm.

"Will you see the sakura trees with me once they bloom?"

"Yeah," I said.

"I'll be there." This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. But that spring never came.

"Reine!!!!" I remember dashing into the hospital, heart pounding as if I could outrun reality itself. It can't be true, I told myself. This is all a dream. But reality struck the moment I saw her empty bed. The hospital staff quietly cleared her belongings, their faces heavy with practised sorrow. Her parents stood nearby, dressed in black, mourning a future that had been stolen from them. No… this can't be true, I thought as my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor. No. I haven't fulfilled my promise yet.

It was now that I realised that that day, when I had jumped off that cliff to save Elara, finding myself in that alley with Reine was not real. It was all a dream. Always have been. Always will be. For she had long left me, carried away by a spring that never bloomed, leaving behind only lavender-scented memories and a promise I was never allowed to keep.

~~~~~~~~~~ Meanwhile, in an unknown heaven far removed from mortal sight, Valtheris reclined upon a throne that could not be named—an edifice shaped from neither gold nor stone, but from authority itself. Light bent unnaturally around him, as though reality knew better than to stare directly. In his hand rested a crystal goblet filled with red wine, dark as coagulated blood. He lifted it languidly, the liquid within swirling in slow, hypnotic circles.

"Ah, Alistair… oh, Alistair," he murmured indulgently, amusement lacing every syllable.

"You are so painfully naive." He brought the glass to his lips and drank, savouring the taste as if it were more than wine—perhaps memory, perhaps inevitability. The silence of the heavens pressed close as he spoke again.

"Growing five years in a single day," Valtheris continued, voice smooth yet edged with quiet mockery, "is not merely abnormal." He let the word linger, rolling it across his tongue.

"It is an impossibility—by every law they believe governs existence." Another sip. A faint sigh of satisfaction.

"Even if one were to attribute it to an awakening," he said calmly, "such a phenomenon has never been recorded. Not once. Not in any era. Not in any world." His gaze sharpened, piercing unseen distances.

"Yes, you were right to suspect there was a reason those men from Project Atlas coveted you alone." His lips curved faintly.

"But you were also wrong—partially." Valtheris leaned forward slightly.

"In truth, they would have preferred to take both of you, had circumstances allowed it." There was a flicker of genuine interest now.

"Two variables, born of the same origin. Two outcomes from the same experiment." His smile widened, predatory.

"However, their priority was always you." He paused, as though inviting the universe itself to answer the question.

"Why?" The air before him rippled, forming a translucent sphere. Within it, Alistair could be seen seated in meditation—blindfold removed, eyes closed, expression serene yet burdened. Moonlight poured through an open window, catching in strands of his white hair as the wind stirred it gently, lending him an almost ethereal allure. Valtheris gazed upon the image with unmistakable satisfaction.

"Because," he said softly, finally unveiling the truth, "your sister was designated Project Failure #302 —one of the five failures that survived." His tone was clinical. Dismissive.

"But you…" His eyes gleamed.

"You were one of the few marked Project Successful." Silence fell like a verdict. A smug, unrestrained smile spread across Valtheris's face, pride and possession entwined within it.

"And because I am nothing if not kind," he continued, reclining once more, "while you struggle beneath the weight of such grand mysteries, I shall spare you the inconvenience of the smaller ones—questions you have not even realised you should ask." He turned his palm upward, threads of light briefly coiling around his fingers before fading.

"Your last name," he said casually, "is a noble's surname, my boy." His gaze shifted toward a distant shadow standing at the edge of the heavens—a figure swallowed by darkness, form indistinct yet unmistakably present.

"Help him," Valtheris commanded coolly.

"Or I may be forced to twist the threads of fate once more… for the sake of my great design." The dark figure inclined its head in silent obedience. In the next breath, it vanished—leaving Valtheris alone with his wine, his throne, and a future already bending to his will. ~~~~~~~~~~ ALISTAIR NIGHTFALL'S POV: It was 07. 00 p. m.

"Isabella, it's seven, we need to go for dinner now, or the queues will be long." I beckoned from downstairs.

"Coming~!" Ella called back. From upstairs, Ella began to walk down the crystal-glass staircase of our house. Each step chimed softly beneath her feet, light refracting through the transparent stairs and scattering across the walls like falling stars. She didn't rush—she never did. Her movements were graceful, effortless, as if the house itself had slowed just to watch her descend. The glow from above framed her figure perfectly, turning her silhouette into something unreal, something meant to be admired from afar.

I found myself frozen. Her hair caught the light and shimmered as she moved, swaying gently with each step, and her expression—calm, warm, faintly amused—made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't explain. In that moment, she didn't feel like someone from my everyday life. She felt like an idol stepping onto a stage, radiant and untouchable, the kind of beauty that pulls every gaze without ever asking for it—just like Reine. I realised then that I wasn't just looking at her. I was completely, helplessly captivated.

Not by her beauty, but by their resemblance.

"Once we step outside, I will be calling you Isabella, got it?" I reminded her.

"Yep!" She smiled happily as she clung to my arm.

"Let's go to the food fair hosted by Frostveil!"

"Ok…" I sighed. This girl loves to eat, and she never gets fat. At the food fair, Isabella's eyes once again proved to be far bigger than her stomach ever could be. The moment we stepped into the bustling avenue of stalls, awash with warm lights and drifting aromas of sugar, spice, and grilled delights, her entire demeanour changed. Her gaze darted everywhere at once, sparkling with unrestrained excitement, as if each booth were a treasure chest waiting to be opened.

Before I could even finish taking in the scene, she tugged at my sleeve with barely contained enthusiasm.

"Ooh! Brother, look at this!" she exclaimed, poking my arm insistently as she leaned toward a display piled high with doughnuts, each one glistening under the lantern light. The sign above bore the familiar crest of Frostveil, and I couldn't help but feel a quiet swell of pride. They'd come a long way—judging by the crowd gathered around the stall, Frostveil had clearly expanded its reach and was thriving.

"Miss, could we have the gingerbread man–shaped doughnut?" I asked, sliding the payment across the counter as Isabella bounced on her heels beside me. The vendor handed it over, still warm, the spiced scent curling invitingly through the air. Isabella wasted no time.

"Mm, Brother, it's sooooo good!!!" she declared dramatically, clutching the doughnut like a priceless artefact. I raised an eyebrow, half-convinced she was playing it up, but curiosity got the better of me. I took a bite—and paused.

"This is good," I said flatly, though inside I was anything but calm. The texture was perfect, the sweetness balanced, the spices lingering just enough to make you crave another bite. I felt a surge of internal triumph. They'd finally done it. Frostveil had truly mastered the legendary standard—the mythical level of comfort and indulgence of Bunkin' Doughnuts. From that point on, there was no stopping her.

Isabella flitted from stall to stall like a sugar-powered comet, dragging me along as she pointed out skewers sizzling over open flames, cups of jewel-bright drinks stacked like potions, and pastries dusted so thickly with powdered sugar they looked like they'd been kissed by snow. Each stop meant another purchase, another delighted gasp, another bite taken with the seriousness of a seasoned food critic—despite the crumbs on her cheeks and the growing pile of half-finished treats in my hands.

The fair buzzed around us with laughter and music, but all I could really focus on was her boundless joy, infectious and overwhelming, as she sampled the world one snack at a time, utterly convinced that the next stall would surely hold something even better.

"Ace! Is that you?" A voice called out. We both looked up to see a woman standing in front of us, her mouth agape.

"Who's she?" Isabella whispered to me.

"I don't know," I whispered back.

"I'm your colleague, Artemis, Alstair," She frowned slightly.

"Oh, I remember now," I murmured and looked away.

"And she is?" Artemis asked, looking between Isabella, clinging to my arm and me.

"Oh," We immediately pulled back our arms, purposely leaving a gap between us.

"She's my younger sister, Isabella."

"I see," Artemis took off her sunglasses, looking unconvinced.

"Look, we look almost the same, except her eyes are lighter than mine," I stated.

"Uh-huh," She said 'very convincingly'.

"Someone has a brother complex," She muttered under her breath.

"What did you say?" Isabella puffed her cheeks.

"Nothing!" Artemis waved her hands.

"I was just thinking that you two were a very elegant and good-looking pair of siblings!" She said nervously.

"This is getting boring," Isabella said.

"I'm going to get more food. Sit there and wait for me," She pointed at an empty table nearby.

"So what brings you here?" I asked, sitting opposite her.

"The same reason as you. To cool off," She said.

"And I have a feeling that you know what our first mission is," She looked at me. Ah, so she knows.

"Unlike the rest of you, I have been doing my research." I stirred my cup of coffee.

"There is no big news happening lately that would make people request to assassinate anyone, except for this one." I paused and looked at her.

"Lord Hastings, a corrupted politician who has blood relations to the royal family. The King turns a blind eye to whatever he does, for the sake of honouring his father, who gave him the only licence in the whole of Lucarion to bring in artifects from Durnhal. Accepting bribes from the rich, he brought in dangerous and lethal artefacts capable of destroying a town. And just last week, one of the artefacts was used to destroy a small town named Violetstorm."

I looked towards the stalls, watching Isabella from not too far away, buying mochi.

"So, of course, the survivors of Violetstorm would like to take revenge on him for letting in such lethal weapons. And, as reasonable as it sounds, The Elite Circle will definitely approve of this mission, and thus give it to us, the genius newbies." Artemis nodded.

"Because it's easy?"

"No, in fact, it will be challenging, unless we can get the royals to help us."

"This mission," I paused and turned my gaze back to her.

"Is to prove whether we are worthy of being in the Special Grade or if we are actually Grade 1." I stood up from my seat.

"And my goal," I walked towards her.

"Is to be that Special Grade." She stared at me in awe.

"So you predicted all this?"

"Yes."

"Mark my words, and they will come true," I said.

"I need to go to the lavatory, tell Isabella," I said to Artemis.

"Did you really need to go to the toilet, or did you feel my presence?" A female figure with chestnut brown hair and warm hazel eyes leaned against the wall of the entrance to the bathroom, blocking my path.

"What do you want?"

"Ara~ara~, little brother, don't need to be so hostile," She said gently, like a big sister I never had.

"My name is Kaori Nightfall, the real Nightfall, and you have been using my surname for far too long."

"..." I silently reached for the knife in my pocket.

"But it's ok," She smiled warmly.

"Since I have no parents and am the sole heir to this noble family, I declare from this day onwards, you and your sister will be true Nightfalls, my siblings!" She exclaimed like a little kid.

"Thank you for your kindness," I said bluntly.

"We will meet again soon, Alistair," And she disappeared into thin air. Wow, what was that? Great, so now I am a real noble, yay.

"Brother! You're so slow! Hurry up and eat this mochi before I finish them all!" Isabella called out.

"Yes, yes," I sat down beside Isabella. Artemis was munching on some doughnuts. Good choice. And this is how I spent my break and all my money.