That had been three months ago.

How could she leave for so long without even saying goodbye? What if she left me forever? What should I do then? What if Mom never comes back? The mere thought brought tears to Ariadne’s eyes. She buried her head in her arms by the windowsill and sniffled.

Something tickled her arm. “Huh?” When she looked up, she saw a morning glory vine that had climbed from the ground up the side of the tower and over the windowsill. The long, light purple flowers swayed without any wind, brushing gently against her arm again.

Ariadne knew those vines. “Mom?” she called.

Gloria was an elementalist. While her powers weren’t strong enough for battle, she handled plants with ease. Sending signals using the morning glory plant was her specialty and her hobby. Ariadne would often be woken up by a morning glory flower tickling her cheek. A vine would lead Ariadne, still mostly asleep, to her mother’s greenhouse garden.

There inside the sunlit greenhouse would be her mother, waiting for her by a table set with breakfast. When her mother waved, smiling brightly, the morning glory would wrap around the half-asleep Ariadne and guide her to the table.

Those mornings with her mother, buried in flowers and trees, were so sweet. The feeling of waking up surrounded by that fragrance was unbelievably refreshing. Ariadne had loved those mornings.

“You’re back, Mom? Your trip’s over?” Ariadne asked, grasping the vine in a joyful greeting. The tendrils gracefully wrapped around her arm and tugged her toward the window, to the bottom of the tower.

“You want me to come down? But I’m not allowed to leave the study… Dad will be here soon.” No matter how much she refused, the vine was persistent, continuing to tug her toward the steep drop below.

“I, I’m going to fall...” Ariadne whimpered. As the panic-stricken girl held onto the windowsill, more vines came toward her, pushing her gently but firmly out of the window. “No!”

Unable to withstand their strength, Ariadne teetered out of the window, but she didn’t fall. The vines gathered together and wrapped securely around her, readying to take her to the bottom of the tower.

“Mom…?” she called.

“Ariadne!”

The duke had entered the room while she wasn’t paying attention. Looking shocked, he ran toward Ariadne when he saw her hanging from the window.

“Dad?”

He immediately took out his sword, slashed through the vines, and grabbed his daughter. The severed vine flailed helplessly. The flowers turned to Ariadne, and the tendrils tried to reach out to her from the windowsill. Somehow, she thought they looked sorrowful, as if her mother was desperately reaching out to her. She stretched her hands out toward it, but the duke stopped her and slammed the window closed with a loud bang. “I didn’t think she had enough strength left for something like this...” he mumbled.

“Dad, Mom—”

“Aria, those aren’t your mother’s flowers. She’s on a trip, remember?”

“But—”

“I said, it’s not her. You’re mistaken.” Pushing Ariadne toward the chair and closing the curtain, the duke said, “Now, it’s time to study.”

Right before the curtains blocked out the window, Ariadne saw the morning glory flowers on the window wilt and fall one by one, the petals swept away by the wind. The falling flowers somehow felt like her mother. Her heart broke, and she couldn’t help herself from tearfully asking, “Dad, what about Mom? When’s she coming back?”

The duke did not respond.

“Is she not coming back because she’s sick? Can’t I go to her?” As she continued to ask, the duke looked at her with an odd expression and said, “Ariadne, if you finish your studies today, I will tell you about your mom.”

“Really?” she said, hopefully.

“Of course. And if you do really well, then you can even go see her,” he added.

“I-I’ll do my best. I can do this,” she promised.

“Of course you can.” With a gentle smile, he sat Ariadne on the covered chair.

There were shackles on both armrests. The duke skillfully rolled up her sleeves and used them to fasten her arms to the chair. Her exposed arms were covered in red scars, scars formed from infection after being cut and jabbed with sharp objects.

The duke indifferently searched her arm for a patch of less scarred skin. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and placed a towel in it once she obeyed. “Let’s start.”

Using a dagger, the duke drew a new wound on Ariadne’s heavily scarred arm. She flinched, but couldn’t move because of the restraints. “How many times have I told you that it’s dangerous if you move? You said you could bear it,” the duke whispered harshly.

Ariadne bit down into the towel to forget the pain. “Yes, like that. Endure it,” the duke encouraged, then brought out a large syringe made of ivory. Because the needle was so thick, it could only be injected after an incision had been made. He inserted the needle into the cut he made on his daughter’s arm and injected the golden liquid inside.

Ariadne’s body started to shake. It felt as if there was a fire burning through her veins. Cold sweat formed all over her. “There’s more than usual, but you’re doing all right. Good job, Ariadne,” her father praised. With those words, he gently brushed back her hair, then donned his gloves. Opening the box sealed with a magic circle, he used long tweezers to take out a small glass bottle containing an eerie, red-black liquid.

Burning up with a fever, Ariadne saw her father suctioning the liquid into another syringe. “Let’s move on. This much is good enough, right?” The duke smirked as he approached her.

No. I’m scared. I don’t want to do this. The first golden liquid, the injection her dad had called “Elixir,” was still manageable. It burned and made her dizzy, but the pain was endurable. But the second injection, the “contaminated water,” was different. The agony was unbearable. The first time she had been injected with the contaminated water, she threw up blood and spent days unconscious. And after that, every time she was injected with that red-black liquid, she lost consciousness.

Each time, her dad tsked and reprimanded her,

“What are you going to do if you can’t even stand this? I thought my daughter was a good, clever girl, but your progress is too slow. You need to try harder.”

It had been only after a few months of trying that she was able to endure it without fainting, but the duke had immediately upped the dosage of the red-black liquid. It had taken more than half a year to be able to endure the increased amount, and it was only recently that she barely managed to become used to it. But to increase it again... Ariadne turned ghastly white.

“Are you scared?” the duke asked, caressing his trembling daughter’s cheek. “Don’t be. You know I would never put you in danger. Dad loves you so much.” His voice was warm and sweet. She closed her eyes in defeat. “Yes, that’s right. That’s a good girl,” the duke praised.

Soon, the other thick needle went into the wound. Ariadne’s eyes teared up, but that pain was nothing compared to the contaminated water seeping into her body.

She gasped. Her vision flashed white, then turned black. As Ariadne struggled in pain, the duke’s gloved hands held her in place. The towel covering her mouth turned red and fell to the floor. Blood and screams flowed out of her mouth, and the white fabric covering the chair was stained red.

“Tsk, she’s doing worse than I expected... Maybe I’ll increase the Elixir,” the duke pondered. Sighing with exasperation before the child who was throwing up blood, he brought back the syringe filled with the golden liquid. “Honey, you have to be strong if you want to hear about your mom.” The duke then injected more of the golden liquid into her.

It felt as if Ariadne’s brain were on fire. Her vision was covered by intertwined golden and dark red lights. She felt like someone was strangling her. She couldn’t breathe.

And just like that, she lost consciousness.

* * *

Ariadne lay in the dark for quite a while, then suddenly realized, This is a dream. I am dreaming. Even though she knew it was a dream, it was hard to wake up, so she continued thinking.

What is my name? I am Ariadne Eldier. I turned seven this year. Her head should only contain the memories of the seven years she’d spent in Eldier Castle and no more, but the memories of another lifetime floated through her mind: A place where there was science instead of magic, and machines instead of elementalists. Twenty-eight years’ worth of memories in a completely different world.

What exactly are these? she wondered as she looked up into the empty darkness. The foreign memories slowly became organized. Ariadne slowly came to realize what they were. These are the memories of my past life.

At that moment, the darkness disappeared and the surrounding scenery changed. She gasped. She was now in a room with bookshelves made of gold that covered the walls from floor to ceiling. The floor was made of transparent glass, as well as the ceiling and the walls. Beyond the glass wall and glass ceiling were rooms like the one she was in. Endless expanses of studies in all directions, lined with golden bookshelves. Strangely, there were no titles written on the neatly organized books.

Where am I? A library? It was an oddly familiar sight. As if she had been here before.

Been here before?

That’s right, I’ve been here before. Several times.

She thought she might have dreamed of this place from time to time, beginning from a very young age. A library with endless glass rooms, golden bookshelves filled with no titles… I’ve seen them all several times before, but I could only look at them, not move around. But now she could.

Why? Was it because this time it wasn’t a dream, but reality? Or was it perhaps because she’d remembered her past life?