“Because it was...”

“ ‘Fair’, right?”

Memories of the last time she saw their friends came rushing through her mind. Her sword cutting their necks—because it was the quickest and most painless way given the circumstances—haunted her. Truth is, regardless of the method, it was painful for all of them. She couldn’t do anything at all to prevent their deaths.

I know I'm being presumptuous... No... I should say... Arrogant? But I am absolutely sure that you, even after having lived everything that you have lived, cannot determine the weight of the sword you are carrying about to cross the body of a precious person to you. A weight that had become null over my constant training suddenly hurt my muscles. I can even bet that you are unable to calculate the strength required to do it. No. You don't have that strength. I didn't... And I know it just made it more painful for them. But then again, you look like a deity, so how can you understand?

'Ilty, it's alright, nothing will change between us.'

Iltier clenched her teeth as she tried to swallow the tears that came hurting her throat. The guilt was so overwhelming that the most logical thing she thought she should do was to kill herself with the same sword.

“...Yes, fair.” she swallowed the offered drink in an attempt to stop her tears, and as the scent hinted, it was sweet with a taste she had never experienced. Her mind became curious again.

The taste, the scent, and the warmth calmed her heart as curiosity got the best of her. She sighed while wiping her tears.

“What is this drink?”

“It is what we call ‘tea’.”

“Is it made of something special?”

“No. But, the fruit that is dried, rested in boiling water and then sweetened, does not exist in your world, so I should say ‘yes’? It comes from that tree. It's called a pomegranate. The fruit, not the tree."

Not in my world. As I thought he must be a deity of some sort?

People of Iltier’s world had a similar drink to ‘tea’ but the one he made had a stronger taste. A shame they didn’t have this fruit in Mardrake as she would love to drink something like this again.

...’Again’?

“Fascinating. Do you mind if I...”

“Go ahead.” His voice was encouraging, unlike the calmness from before. The pomegranate tree was not very tall, and the fruits were large enough to bend the branches of the tree.

Can a branch break if there is too many fruits?

Iltier took one fruit in her hands and she could sense the faint smell, same as the tea. It was soothing. Everything about that place was soothing like a narrative in a calm book. She could even feel and hear a gentle breeze while looking at the swinging leaves.

“So, do you know who did this to you? I talk about framing your friends.”

Iltier’s heart skiped a beat as questions she did not have answers came crushing along his words.

Before knowing who, she was obsessed with why. Why did they do that? How could they? If Danair -one of her friends- was not quick enough she could have died and then they would be framed. But she was saved thanks to him, thanks to them. And in the end, Iltier had to kill them. It was frustrating. It was enfuriating. She wanted to look in their eyes, she wanted them incapable.

She wanted them.. Dead.

‘My heart should not be dusked by anger, and I don't want yours to be too.’

...No. That’s not it. I should not be like them, right? Raon.
I want them to understand that what they did was wrong. Even though I believe they do, and in this case I want them to pay for what they did. What you couldn't do to your family, I will do to the people who framed you.

“No. I don't know who framed them.”

“Do you have any idea? Any clue?”

With the fruit in her hands she sat again in front of him.

“Honestly? No. ...Can I eat it?”

“Of course.”

“How does one eat this fruit?”

“Let me show you. Can't you think of anyone who would be able to do something like that to you?”

“...No.” She sighed as she handed the fruit to him. The feeling of incapability was starting to compete with her guilt, and she hated them both.

“Well, I know who did this to you.”

Iltier looked at him in horror.

He knows? “...Wha? Who?”

And then, as if ignoring her question, he proceeded to explain the way to eat the fruit in his most calm manner, looking at his hands.

"You need to cut the skin of the fruit first, like this, with a blade or your nails. Don’t put too much force, just enough to graze it. And then you open it. You want what is inside, the outside is all for show. ...Just like them."

“Ah.” It intriguied her how she could just go with the flow when she was with him, almost as if he was dictating the pace. Almost like he was teaching her something very important.

“However, it is in my nature not to say who did it. ”

“...Why??”

“Because you need to learn and realize the presence of arrows that are chasing you behind your back. It will do no good to make you go back and resolve this situation with you knowing who it was. Because if someone else tries to do it again you will die again.

This is your only chance to return. That's why you need to learn.”

“Am I... going back?”
“Yes, you are.”

He handed her half of the fruit as if he was handing her a second chance. Regardless, his words made sense within her.

And the fruit was... charming.

"...Do I eat the seeds or this white part?"

“Only the seeds. If it is to your liking, you can chew and swallow it. The white part is really... bad.” he frowned and she wondered what happened for him to be so traumatized by a harmless fruit.

She looked back at the red seed in her hands.

Yes, Iltier needed to know. She had the means.
Who were they, why they did it. It looked like a Coup D’etat but her mother and father weren’t directly included in their plan. Or were they not yet included? She needed to know.

“It’s fair. I indeed need to learn. It’s an extremely valid condition since I died because I didn’t know.”

“No. You died because after failing, someone deliberately cornered you to the point where you took your own life as a result. Let's not confuse matters. However, in your position, you really need to learn. You died as a consequence of their actions.”

“...”

Iltier looked at her hands while reflecting on his words. Like a branch that breaks with a lot of fruits to carry, she did kill herself because the guilt was overwhelming. But it was a consequence of their actions, her friend’s deaths and her death were a consequence of their actions. They were to blame.

I am to blame too, as I took their lives and my own.

“Besides, have you though, at least for a moment, how could they do that? What exactly allowed them to? I speak about the execution.”

...‘How’? ...Because... It is
“...The Law?”
...Ah.

With her attention consumed by guilt, Iltier had never considered the profound consequences of a system that not only failed to protect innocent lives but actively contributed to their demise. To begin with, they had exploited a very brutal law that was still in effect, even though it was antiquated and long overdue for reform.

Execute people who are considered traitors? What are we? Savages?

The seeds of the red fruit resembled tiny red crystals. Iltier wondered if they were as hard as they looked, but surprisingly, they were really soft and juicy. Each seed held a smaller seed within, contributing to an interesting texture that blended sweet and acidic flavors simultaneously.

“It’s... delicious!”
“Right?”

Death was an uncharted place to them.

At least, to Ashtarians, they believed there was nothing after death; it was the end. A 'place we go when we die' was the only logical explanation Iltier came up with while analyzing his words and the place itself. His calmness helped her process everything. Was the ‘unknown garden’...

 “This garden... Is this the place we go when we die?”

“No.”

Waiting curiously for an answer, she looked directly at him. He had that serene look of someone who knew what they were talking about. Iltier couldn't help but comparing, she felt that she was talking to her mother. Except for the constant tease, it was the same feeling. They both had everything different about their appearances and yet she couldn’t help comparing them.

“This is the place you go when you can go back to fair your roads, for they were not deservedly kind to you.”

Before she could process what had been said, he extended one of his hands at the table holding the sleeve of his clothes with the other hand and as if he was a Materia Almager -some sort of wizard of her world- he made a tiny bouquet of white flowers and a mask of sorts appeared before her, out of thin air. The flowers were the same as she saw in the garden, which painted the scenario as if it was sknowflakes in the beginning of winter.

“It’s time for you to go back.”

“What is this?”

“A.. farewell gift?” The man looked somehow troubled which gave him a more ‘humane’ feeling to her.

“I see.” She took the flower in her hands, curious. It resembled some of the white flowers in the garden. Does this flower hold meaning for him? Should it have some significance for me as well?

“For you to remember and to not doubt our encounter.”

“I fear this tiny flower will not survive long, unfortunately. ...Ah. Don’t get me wrong, I love flowers, it would be delightful if I could have it for a longer time.”

“Don't worry, this flower does not wither.”

“Fascinating. It does indeed have the same feeling as a Kanuria. What is its name?”

“’Sempre-viva’ which means ‘always alive’.”

“’Sempre-viva’, I will remember.” Iltier then touched the mask before her. It was... different from everything she had seen until now. Colors, teeth, horns, a mischievous look. In Ashtaria there was a festival of sorts where they celebrated the mothers and fathers of the Five Found Families, since they were all beasts. The mask he offered as a gift had a familiar feeling of the masks they used in this festival, but regardless, it was different.

“This mask, I have the feeling that is something bad but it is not at the same time.”

“Yes, precisely. It’s ironic, no? How they perfectly put masks, like that, on those six kids. Masks that said the wearer is guilty."

In the Festival of the Beasts, they wear the masks as if they were the beasts, given that they are powerful and beautiful.

Iltier hated the fact that her friends were guilty of trying to kill her, the fact that they put masks like these in them. She hated that.

"But nothing you did to prove their innocence was successful, which means, of course, that the masks were so well placed that no one doubted its legitimacy. Ah... I must admit, easily questionable ends, but perfectly designed means.”

She took the mask in both her hands as she could not question any of his words.

Should I have a mask like that on my own too?

"In the home world of this mask, it is used to hide the wearer's intentions."

...Hide intentions?

“Mhmmm ... In your world, the use of Alma is known to everyone, including you. But this object is unknow, only you know of its existence, only you know its origin, only you know it is special. It’s an advantage that I'm putting into your hands. 

Put it on and pay them back in kind.”

Could it fit? Iltier took the mask and began to put into her face but before reaching her skin, she could see something written on it.

“Thank you, but, I can’t read.”

“七転び八起き” He said but for the first time she could not understand what he talked. It was an unknown language for her but regardless it sounded like poetry with its cadency.

He started to vanish and Iltier knew that their encounter was coming to an end. He then spoked again in a way she could understand. He was smiling softly.

“Fall seven times, get up eight.”

Iltier looked at herself and realized that she too was vanishing.

“Hey, will we meet again?” she asked, with the only thought that came to mind before they parted ways.

Before everything returned to nothing, Iltier heard his answer. She couldn't see his face anymore, but his voice was smiling at her. It was comforting.

 “...Maybe?”