Xiver lay in his bed as Elizabeth held him tightly, her arms wrapped around him while she struggled to hold back her tears. Behind them, Emelia stood silently, watching the scene unfold.
Elizabeth gently wiped her tears.
"Elizabeth… can you leave me alone with Emelia for a moment?"
Elizabeth froze, taken aback by the sudden request. After everything that had just happened—after nearly losing him—he wanted her to be alone with someone else?
Her voice trembled.
"W-what do you mean…?"
Sensing the tension rising, Emelia stepped forward.
"It's alright, Miss Elizabeth. It won't take long."
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded. Wiping her tears once more, she left the room. Emelia closed the door behind her and pulled a chair closer, sitting beside Xiver.
"Did you find anything about Sonic?"
Xiver stared at her blankly.
That wasn't what he wanted to talk about.
Emelia paused, realizing her mistake.
"Sorry… you just woke up and I— no, what did you want to talk about?"
Her expression turned serious.
"Why do you care about how I see you?"
Emelia blinked in surprise.
"How you see me…?"
"Yes."
She gave a small, quiet smile.
"I liked the reflection of myself I saw in your eyes. That's all… nothing more, nothing less."
"I see…"
Xiver lowered his gaze slightly.
"Then tell me… why am I here?"
"Huh?"
"Why am I alive?"
Emelia fell silent for a moment.
"I'm sorry, Xiver… those aren't questions I can answer. They're questions only you can answer."
"I see…"
Emelia leaned forward slightly.
"But people can help you find that answer. You don't have to walk your path alone. There must be something you want to achieve."
"Do you want to achieve something?"
Emelia stopped for a moment, a faint look of discomfort crossing her face.
"…No."
"Then what about me?"
"Does having a goal truly define the meaning of one's life? Does it really give life meaning?"
"Even animals walk with a goal."
"To survive. But what about us, Xiver? Why are we alive—that's the question you asked."
"Why are you so fixated on helping me?"
"I'll say it as many times as needed… I see myself in you. I want to become the person you see in me. I want to help you because you need it… and that is my purpose."
Xiver looked up.
"So that's your goal, isn't it?"
"It's not really a goal… it's something small. Something everyone does. More like a duty."
"I guess that gives your life meaning."
"How so?"
"I never saw my life as something I had to achieve anything in. My whole life has been about achieving everything."
Emelia adjusted her glasses, still trying to follow his words.
"So your goal in life is to accomplish small tasks?"
"I think the idea of having a goal is depressing."
He sighed, placing his hands behind his neck.
"I'm tired of achieving, of perfection… I can never reach it. I can't even get close."
"Why would you want perfection?"
"Because I don't want to have flaws. I overthink everything. I make simple things complicated. I run around problems instead of facing them. But in the end… I just didn't want to regret anything I never had. I didn't want anyone pointing out flaws in me. I didn't even want to think about having flaws."
"So having a goal is depressing?"
"Having a big goal from the start is depressing. On your journey, you'll be faced with the harsh reality that you may never achieve it. Deep down, you know you can't. You'll only end up facing that reality… and falling into despair."
Emelia stood up suddenly and slapped Xiver across the face.
The sound echoed through the room.
Xiver held his cheek, stunned, as he turned his gaze toward her.
Emelia's face was red, her eyes filled with tears streaming down her cheeks. Without another word, she turned and ran out of the room.
Elizabeth stood in the doorway.
"That didn't go well."
She stepped inside.
"Goals and all that… that's what you were talking about, right?"
"Yeah."
"Did you say something that made Emelia cry?"
"You already know we were talking about goals. Obviously, you know more than that. You were listening… but i didn't really care."
Elizabeth's expression hardened.
"Don't you think that's what made her cry?"
"Hm?"
"You act like you don't care about other people's feelings. You have no empathy… or you simply refuse to show it. Try having some human manners next time."
Xiver snapped.
"Human manners? Don't mess with me! Don't act like you know anything about me or Emelia—you know nothing! You only cared because I almost died!"
He pushed himself up, his bandages stained with blood visible beneath his shirt.
"I'm alive, so go back to being useless!"
Elizabeth's gaze lowered.
"I never wanted my son to become like this… I truly never raised you this way."
"You're not my mother. You never were. And you never will be."
Elizabeth said nothing. She turned and walked out of the room.
Xiver tried to catch his breath, but it came out uneven. Slowly, he lay back down, pulling his shirt back into place.
Sleep wouldn't come.
So he simply stared at the ceiling… lost in thought
Xiver finally fell asleep after a long struggle.
Later that day, he woke up and picked up a book, sitting quietly on his bed. Over the past years, most of the books he had read were about magic—how to control it, how to use magic staffs, how to create spells, and how to craft magical tools. Others explained the three branches of magic, the source of mana, and countless stories about mastering it.
But none of it mattered.
Before Emelia had arrived earlier, he had been trying to understand the strange symbols inside the book Alexander had left him.
Xiver got up from his bed and began searching through his books, looking for anything related to decoding symbols. After flipping through several pages, he finally started to understand.
Breaking those symbols required mana.
They weren't just drawings—they were containers, locking massive amounts of mana inside them. When activated with the correct words, they would release powerful, pre-constructed spells.
For example, creating hot water normally required combining fire mana and water mana—or water and light mana. But most people struggled with that. Some could only produce fire, others could only control one or two types. Even those who could use both often failed to balance them correctly.
That was why people specialized in certain types of magic.
But those symbols…
They made everything easier.
Xiver picked up the book Alexander had given him, along with the one explaining how to break the symbols. He took a deep breath and tried to cast a spell.
His hands trembled.
Sweat ran down his face.
Nothing happened.
Xiver : "…All those years of learning magic… wasted."
His grip tightened.
In frustration, he threw both books against the wall.
Xiver : "What the hell is my goal…? Why am I even here…? Do I even have a goal…?"
His thoughts spiraled as he scratched his arms, his nails digging into his skin until it started to bleed.
He suddenly stopped.
Slowly, he stood up and picked the books back up.
Xiver : "Am I supposed to be a hero here…? A hero who can't even use magic in a magic world…?"
A bitter laugh escaped him.
Xiver : "Don't make me laugh… The only thing I'm good at is swordsmanship… and I can't even use it to protect myself."
A memory flashed in his mind.
Himself—bleeding, crying, begging for his life.
A wave of shame washed over him.
Xiver : "Was my real ability… just crying?"
He clenched his fists.
Xiver : "Don't…"
His voice lowered.
Xiver : "I miss my old life… I thought I could adapt to this world… but deep down… I can't."
His legs gave out.
He fell to the ground.
Lying there, he glanced at his arms.
They were covered in scratches… and scars.
Xiver let out a hollow laugh.
Xiver : "I don't even know if I caused these… or if they're from training with that axe… Is that what he left me…?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Xiver : "Scars…"
He tried to stand.
But his body didn't respond.
Xiver : "…Hm?"
He tried again.
And again.
Nothing.
His strength was gone.
The room slowly grew darker as his vision faded.
And just like that—
He lost consciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in bed.
A sharp pain struck his head.
Xiver winced, raising his hand to touch it—his fingers came back stained with blood.
He must have hit his head when he fell.
He stared at the ceiling in silence.
After a long pause, he exhaled softly.
Xiver : "…I should apologize to Emelia."