At this exact moment in time, Leopold Iverncrest has found himself in the presence of a god.

How could he tell?

Perhaps it is the first peaceful sleep in a while, after finally quitting his job as a bounty hunter relieved him to the point of imagining grandeur. Perhaps it is the peculiar pair of new people who found themselves in Rapsa that made him imagine a fantastical world that is quite foreign for Wydellian’s to have.

He is neither a believer nor is he open to being persuaded. There are many reason why he would be inclined otherwise.

Despite all this, there is a presence embracing him in this eternal void that is too palpable to ignore. Like the warmth of parents’ he’s never known.

“Help!” The booming voice from within his dormant consciousness resonated.

He turns around, from endless glaring white emptiness to a snowy red night.

He’s never been to Compadol, the capital city of the Empire, but he knows of the Blazing Palace.

He’d seen it in posters during festivals after festivals after festivals in Jardin. It is a shining monument of marble, stone, wood, and brick but they are ornated with golden caps and vibrant paints.

It sat, lonely at the island in the heart of the Great Middle Lake; connected only by a singular stone bridge that is as wide as fifteen carriages.

They say Rapsa is older than the castle itself. It took a century for it to be built, continuously renovated to fit the current seating crown, yet it remained glorious for two centuries more to come. Withstanding coups and disasters.

Yet it stood there, in Leopold’s dream, broken.

Snow and dead bodies piling up simultaneously.

“Stop… her.”

Chill.

Haunting.

The disembodied voice reverberated through him, and it didn’t need to if it wanted to sell the tragedy of this massacre.

Slow, as if time had stood still and the weight of the snow is glacial on his shoulders. He trudged the powdered fields of the Blazing Palace, watching blood melt the ice on the pavement.

The screaming of the people escaping.

It was as if he was hypnotized to watch, he couldn’t help himself walk towards the danger. Each step, each cry from fleeing noblemen, each body falling over with the light fading behind their eyes suffocated him.

As if he never left his job, as if it’s still haunting him. As if the god inside his dream is punishing him for the choices he’s made before and mocking him for thinking he could be free.

Akin to a fire running lose, burning everything it touched, Leopold watches an enlarged version of Sunniva Glasse cleaving bodies left and right at the center of the palace grounds.

There is a delightful grin on her face that he couldn’t stomach.

Granma’s braised root crops threatened to climb up his throat watching the gore Sunniva ensued. Slitting throats and stuffing them with gems?

He isn’t weak-kneed but her apathy to the lives of others tested that. Could someone exist that is deprived of all morality that they would be capable of killing that remorseless? Is it a mirror he’s seeing?

Then the vision faded back to white.

The endless white void welcomed him.

Back to nothing.

Except, it isn’t entirely nothing.

There’s a small flower, yellow and drooping not far from him. Beside the flower, he notices a hole.

Small at first but it grew larger and larger. Almost swallowing him but it stopped just at his feet. A patch of land he was standing on, falling in. Then, a single lilac butterfly flew out, landing on the yellow flower.

“Hi,” Leo kneels down.

“Hello~~~” there is a hesitancy in the way the butterfly replied. “You replied. Oh. Finally. Someone did! The vision! You have to help. Please.”

“Are you a god?”

“Does it matter?”

“I reckon it does.”

“Look at me. I am but a butterfly in your dreams. You have seen bodies fall before you, a vision of what is to come, and you turn to me, asking if I am primordial?”

Leo nods, understanding the situation that is before him. This being, whether they are indeed a deity or not, does not matter when they have shown a scenario far more horrific than anything he’s seen or done before.

His job, as a mercenary, isn’t pretty but there was turmoil there that he battled for great lengths of time and only recently dared to step away from. If this is a chance of atonement, then what right does he have to question the messenger that gave him such opportunity?

The will of the gods will not be made manifest by those incapable of moving and Leo was not raised to look away.

>><<>><< 

Truscott turns to him, “Leo, is this normal? This isn’t what I heard the lady would be.”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. We started this heist not knowin’ where she was. This could be who she is.” Leo sighs, his speculation not sitting right with him either. “But you did a good job sticking to the plan.”

Truscott didn’t hear the compliment and honed in on Leo’s ability to just accept things. Being like that kept him alive for this long?

“It’s upsetting that I have to be the one to clue you all in, I haven’t heard much of the Lady herself in high society, and if that’s the case, it’s most definitely because she’s neither impressive nor atrocious.” Gray proclaims, glancing at the rock where Sunniva hid to change. “And that woman is atrocious. You would all see me dead first before I wear simple clothing, much less take it from Leo.”

“But weren’t you dying?” Feravis reminds him.

“Hush, my ugly friend. Clothing will elevate your unique circumstance.”

Monica comes out from behind the rocks, dressed in a simple brown v-neck tunic and an itchy pair of pants but it’s soaked right now, so it’s not that unpleasant. She smiles at her captors and sits in front of them.

“Does she have a twin we don’t know about?” Feravis jumps in.

The conspiracy quickly took over Truscott’s entire thought. Leopold couldn’t help the glare he gave his friend at his enabling.

“Who are you?” Gray asks, though he couldn’t tower Monica, his presence made her shrink.

With a step back, Monica answers. “Uhm, hi. I’m Monica Alexandra Torres.”

In life there isn’t a clear boundary for right and wrong answers, but there are things of which people can be certain of.

The sky is blue. The land is green. Mountains can be moved. The Wydellian Empire is the greatest Empire in all of Thorsia (though Gray would have a word with anyone who would say this is so). And what stands before them should be Sunniva Glasse.

“No,” Truscott was the first to deny.

It isn’t that she doesn’t believe her, the way Monica answered, there was no hint of deceit, but she couldn’t accept it.

Only Leopold stayed unmoved by her words, “Truscott’s right. We can’t trust her and the things she says.”

Not when he saw who Sunniva truly is. Letting his guard down meant putting everyone in danger.

“Surely you are not as foolish as him.” Gray turns to Feravis.

“Hey, man.” Feravis hesitates, seeing the way the lady acted. Only a fool would ignore the evidence gathered through observation, but he cannot say that, not when it would clash with Leopold’s stance. “Truscott doesn’t believe it too.”

“Do not blame her this.”

“I’m standing right in front of you,” Monica says.

She waves her hand in an attempt to be included in the conversation.

“Look, I don’t really get what’s going on but, if you need more proof.” She takes out her phone.

The obsidian box catches everyone’s attention.

“Don’t!” Leopold grabs the hilt of his greatsword. “I’ll cleave you.”

Monica jumps at the sudden command yet much like Feravis’ threat, she shrugs at it.

Gray, without a word, matches Leo’s movement, his hand place on the hilt of his scimitar that rests by his waist.

“By all means.” She raised her phone, clicking the power button on the side as demonstration.

Leopold mistook it as an attempt against them, his greatsword slashing diagonally down at her hand that is holding the phone when Gray intercepted it.

His greatsword digging into his scimitar. The taller man’s strength pushed Gray on his back with sheer strength, but it was enough for Monica to yelp and dodge out of the weapon’s reach.

“The fucK!?” She croaks.

Truscott jumps at the opportunity to snatch the phone away from Monica, grabbing it successfully.

“Give it back!” Monica roars, rushing towards Truscott who darts to the opposite side of the cave.

“I wasn’t going to kill her.” Leopold roars at Gray.

“Oh, really? Because from where I’m sat, that was a killing blow!” He groans.

“Feravis!” Truscott shrieks, evading Monica with all her might but in the end, the taller woman managed to pounce on top of her, pinning her to the ground and grabbing her phone back.

Feravis walks away from the chaos, merely observing the other four.

“Here, here, here!” Monica frantically opens her phone, it’s light making Truscott scream at such a high octave, one would think she’s being flayed.

“Darling!” Gray scrambles up his feet, pushing pass Leo to get Monica off of his friend.

But she remains unmoved.

“Why is everyone stopping me from showing them proof?!” Monica placed her body weight on Truscott’s stomach, her free hand grabbing Gray and pinning him down as well. “Now, you two behave like good figments of my imagination.”

The two began shrieking underneath her. The sound began to overwhelm Monica, making her cave within seconds. She stood up, freeing them both.

“Okay, okay, okay! Sorry!” She takes a step back. “But you guys are the one attacking me. And, like, don’t take my phone, please?”

Leopold takes her distraction as an opportunity to tackle her to the ground, grabbing the phone out of her grasp but Monica is fighting back as much as she could.

“Please!” Monica groans. “I am cooperating, just don’t take it from me!”

“You are a murderer! A monster! I ain’t riskin’ our lives for your lies.” Leopold pressed his entire weight on her, trying to pry the phone off her hand whilst the woman kicked her feet on the ground trying to get away.

There are lines that one shouldn’t cross and Feravis deemed that line to have been the moment Leopold raised his voice against her.

“Alright, that’s enough outta you.” He says, pulling Leopold away with Gray and Truscott helping him. “That ain’t how we’re raised to treat ladies.”

“And it is certainly unbecoming of you to let a woman’s cry fall on deaf ears,” Gray adds.

Truscott didn’t look at him. Didn’t say anything but her gaze is glued to Monica, writhing on the floor, panting.

Leopold crosses his arm, “you don’t know what I know.”

“That’s because you never tell us anything!” Truscott adds.

Monica pushes herself off the ground, catching her breath and realizing tears staining the corners of her eyes. She wipes them off, looking away while everyone was busy.

Toughen up, Monica. Why’re you even crying? It’s just a fucking dream––– it’s a bit intense though.

She giggled at her own thoughts.

“It’s a phone. It’s not dangerous.” Her hair falling down to hide her face from everyone.

She pushes it to them, her hands still touching it, however. “My mom bought it for me. I can’t let you have it, but you can look.”

“Behave,” Feravis said to Leo.

He walks over to Monica, looking at the object she’s offering. With head tilted, he points at the woman on the lockscreen.

“Is this you?” He points at the younger woman.

Gray walks over, “who did your portrait? It looks far too realistic.”

“It’s a picture,” Monica explains.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she kept the phone flat on the ground as she opened it with her password.

Leo frowns, uneased by everyone’s calmness. Truscott’s curiosity betrayed her as she sat closest to Monica, watching her finger move along the screen of this so-called phone.

“Here.” Monica takes Truscott’s hands, showing her how to hold it before opening the camera app.

Eyes widening in marvel as she sees herself reflected on the phone. Monica angled it so they would both be in the frame and took the shot.

“I don’t know how it can take pictures, something about light or whatever, but it’s basically–––”

“Magic,” Truscott cuts her off. “I told you all! Sunniva is magic!”

Feravis kneels down beside her, “I don’t think that’s what she’s gonna say.”

“Who cares!” Gray claps, pulling Feravis away so he could be in the line of the camera. “Now, do the thing. Catch my good side if you could.”

Smile so wide it hurts, Monica had forgotten how much being surrounded by others warmed her. She coached Gray how to pose with a stalagmite, catching his ‘essence’ as he likes to call it.

Without their necklace, his real appearance shines much like the jewelry he wears. Blue skin with some light furs, deep dark blue curly hair, a strong tail, and horns the branches out much like the antlers of a fallow deer.

Truscott marches towards Leopold whose eyes straining from following Monica move around. Truscott is beside him, explaining how her theory is right.

“I ain’t as smart as you and you’re the one holding all the cards. All I know is, Monica has done nothing to hurt us. Now, you can be guarded all you want but you have to realize that there are others with you, and they don’t know the whole picture so they will act based on what they know.” She said, not caring for Leopold to defend himself before moving on to what really mattered. “Now, will you please listen about my ‘Sunniva is a mage’ theory? I really think there’s heft to it.”