Swan Song [Dark Fantasy | Progression Fantasy | Slowburn]

[Volume 2 Epilogue | Chapter 84: To The Next Phase (V)]

The sun had long since set by the time Acacia finally arrived back at Pandora's residence. The events of the day—confronting Alaric, meeting with Lorelei, the endless intrigue and half-truths—had left him mentally and physically drained. All he wanted was to retreat to his room, perhaps indulge in some of the mint-chocolate-chip ice cream he'd purchased earlier in the week, and then collapse into blissful unconsciousness.

When he opened the door, the scene that greeted him obliterated any hope of this peaceful scenario.

Noelle Lima was sprawled across the living room couch in oversized sheep-patterned pajamas, surrounded by not one, not two, but THREE empty ice cream containers.

The television blared loudly as the disheveled, lethargic, freckled young woman shoveled another spoonful of his precious dessert into her mouth.

Acacia stood frozen in the doorway.

Then snapped.

"You... ate... all of my ice cream?"

"Mmph."

Noelle didn't even turn her head.

"That was the last of my mint-chocolate-chip!"

"Mmph."

"You're just going to sit there and eat all of it?!"

"Mmph."

"Are you even listening to me?!"

".......Mmph."

Acacia's eye twitched. He leaped onto the couch like a matador and grabbed Noelle's cheeks. With his fingers, he pinched her face, forcing her to drop the ice cream in her mouth back into its container.

"HEY!"

She looked like a hamster with cheeks stuffed to the brim.

"Is it that time of the month or something?" he asked crudely, beyond caring about social niceties at this point.

"EXCUSE ME?! Did you seriously just—that is so inappropriate and—you can't just—" Noelle spluttered indignantly, struggling to swallow the massive amount of ice cream in her mouth so she could properly chastise him. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and outrage.

"My ice cream. THREE containers. Explain."

"Ice cream is a vital post-thaumaturgical-exertion recovery food! Medicine, I tell ya!"

"Medicine."

"Yes! The sugar helps replenish energy after severe prana depletion, and the dairy provides essential nutrients for cellular repair, and—"

"Did you just make that up right now?"

"I did not! It's... well-established Inquisition protocol!"

"Inquisition protocol includes eating all the person's you're babysitting ice gelato without permission?!"

"Emergency circumstances!"

"WHAT emergency?"

"The emergency of ME being starving and the convenience store being closed!"

Acacia pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know, Leila mentioned you exhausted yourself last night, but this seems excessive even for prana depletion."

"YOU try casting Strategic Class spells three times in row and see how you feel the next day!"

"I couldn't cast it once if my life depended on it," Acacia muttered.

"Oh. Right. Sorry..." Noelle deflated slightly.

"Besides, there was perfectly good food in the refrigerator. Pandora keeps it well-stocked."

"But ice cream has a unique restorative quality that—"

"Again, making things up."

"Fine! I stress-ate your ice cream because I was worried about you running off to talk to the same guy who was killing kids to get stronger! And because I performed highly complex Strategic Class Thaumaturgy to protect children from lasting trauma! And because now I have to explain to Pandora why Windsor's most notorious abandoned industrial complex went up in flames while she was away! And—"

Noelle's phone rang, cutting off what promised to be an impressively lengthy tirade. She glanced at the screen, and then literally jumped with joy.

"MY LORD AND SAVIOR PANDORA HAS RETURNED!"

She answered the call, all fatigue and anger instantly replaced by manic glee.

"High Inquisitor Kircheisen! How lovely to hear from you!"

Acacia made a rapid 'cut it out' gesture across his throat, correctly guessing her intentions. Noelle responded with a malicious grin as she deliberately pressed the speaker button.

"—everything going there?" Pandora's voice filled the room, crisp and cool even through the phone's speaker. "I've been receiving rather concerning reports about a fire in the Oakridge district."

"Oh, that! Hahahahaha...! Just a minor incident. COMPLETELY under control. The IPA is handling everything, and there were no serious injuries or casualties."

Acacia frantically mouthed 'don't mention Alaric' while making increasingly desperate hand gestures. Noelle rolled her eyes but gave him a small nod.

"Hmm."

Pandora's skepticism was palpable even through the phone.

"So you're certain there's nothing I should be concerned about?"

"Absolutely certain! Everything's been perfectly fine during your absence! How is Eichenstadt? Did you make progress with your investigation?"

"It's been... productive," Pandora replied after a slight pause. "I'll be returning tomorrow afternoon. My airplane departs in a few hours."

Acacia felt a strange twisting sensation in his chest at the news.

Relief? Anxiety? He couldn't quite identify it.

"We'll have everything in perfect order for your return," Noelle assured her.

Pandora didn't immediately reply.

"...Is Acacia there?" Her voice was suddenly quieter, as though wary of being overheard.

The Irregular froze, then began backing toward his bedroom with the silent stealth of a cat retreating from an unwanted bath.

Noelle flashed a saccharine smile.

"Why yes, he's right here!"

He hissed at her, and to that, Noelle just grinned wider, mouthing 'you can do it!!!' as she held out the phone.

Approaching an execution greater than that of the one he escaped from Ocarina, Acacia accepted the device and switched off the speaker function before bringing it to his ear.

"Hello."

"Acacia." Pandora's voice was soft, almost uncertain. "How are you?"

"Fine."

An awkward silence stretched between them, filled with all the things neither knew how to say.

"I..." Pandora began, then stopped.

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He could almost see her gathering herself, straightening her posture as she always did when facing something difficult.

"I want to apologize."

The words were so unexpected that Acacia nearly dropped the phone.

"What?"

"For how I've treated you. For... for what I said before I left."

It was just like how she was back at Windsor Medical Center... after the fight with the Bloodhounds. He hated how she sounded.

So frail.

So weak.

It utterly angered him. It made him pissed off at whoever made her this way in her past. Whoever made her a woman that found her vulnerability somehow offensive to her character.

Whoever broke her, he would never forgive them.

Despite those lethal desires appearing in his head, he forgot that she was apologizing to him, and those next words absolutely nailed him in the gut.

"I'm also sorry for what I said back when we first got here, when I called you... when I said you were just an Irregular."

Acacia's grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles blanched.

"I was... wrong to do that. Denying who you are. It was unfair and unkind."

His vision was blurred with memories of that moment. That moment that hurt more than any of the torture he ever experienced.

A moment when he was just some broken doll for her to fix.

He said nothing to that. His throat was too constricted to speak.

"...Acacia?" Pandora's voice was the quietest, the most vulnerable he had ever heard it.

"..."

"A-Anyways, I was wrong," Pandora continued, rushing now as though afraid she'd lose her nerve. "It doesn't matter what you are or aren't. I shouldn't have used that against you. I was... I was trying to create distance because I was afraid."

"...Afraid of what?" Acacia finally managed, though it was a pathetic whisper.

"...Caring about you."

It shattered him. The Pandora he had known was arrogant, confident, self-assured, and in total control of herself at all times. Most of the time.

This…

This wasn't the Pandora he knew. It was a stranger speaking to him, an imposter using her voice. Or was it? Had she always been like this? Had he simply never bothered to look?

Before, in that conversation at the hospital weeks ago, he was just saying that she cared about him in order to pressure her into not leaving him, but now, she was admitting it? But then, he remembered.

Her holding his hand while he had a nightmare about Gio back when he was in the hospital.

"I'm sorry. I truly am. And... I miss you."

Someone... who never cared about him. Who had no interest in his life or well-being. Would never do that.

She cared about him.

So that's what that meant.

"I understand," he said softly, and he did.

"You do, don't you? You always seem to understand, even when I don't explain properly. Even when I yell and berate you. You just... you understand me, Acacia."

He didn't know what to say to that. What could he say?

"I'm a terrible person, aren't I?"

"You're not," Acacia quickly countered. "I've met some truly evil, twisted people in my life. You're not that. You're far from that."

"But I'm not a good person either, am I?"

"You saved my life. I can't think of anything more 'good' than that."

There was a pause.

"Thank you, Acacia."

"...For what?"

"For giving me another chance. I won't waste it."

"...Mm."

He could tell the "chance" didn't simply allude to their relationship.

Acacia leaned against the wall, suddenly very aware of Noelle pretending not to eavesdrop from the couch.

"Pandora, I'm not good at dealing with people. This is all new to me, and I'm not sure I'll get it right. But... I'm trying. That's all I can offer."

"Neither am I," Pandora admitted with a sweet laugh that sounded almost relieved. "I suppose we're both rather terrible at it."

"Probably the worst," Acacia agreed, surprised to find his own lips curving into a slight smile.

Another silence. But this one was less oppressive.

Pandora broke it eventually.

"When I return, there's a Summer Festival in Windsor next month. It's quite... nice. Fireworks and food stalls and..."

She trailed off, sounding almost embarrassed by her own suggestion.

"I could take you, if you'd like."

Acacia thought about refusing and retreating to the safety of solitude and detachment. It would be easier, safer.

But something in him—the same something that had driven him to save Alaric, perhaps—pushed back against that instinct.

"I'd like that."

He could almost hear her smile through the phone.

"Good. That's... good. Thank you."

"I should go. Noelle's making faces at me," he said after a moment.

"Tell her to behave," Pandora replied, authoritative tone returning, though now he could detect the warmth beneath it. "I'll see you tomorrow, Acacia."

"See you tomorrow... big sist—Pandora."

He bit his tongue. Why did he say that? Why was he like that?

Why did he allow her to hold such a place in his heart that was only meant for those who no longer exist him?

"..."

"..."

"...Pandora?"

He heard a sniffle.

"Is everything okay? Pandora?"

"Ah, no, it's just something in my eye. Maybe allergies. I'll see you tomorrow, Acacia. Bye."

The same excuse she mocked him for using back when they were driving back from the Northern Spire.

"Bye."

Acacia ended the call, feeling strangely hollow and yet full at the same time. He handed the new SST model phone back to Noelle, who was failing spectacularly at pretending she hadn't been listening to his responses.

"Not a word out of your airhead ass."

"I didn't say anything!" she protested, though her face was insufferably pleased. "But if I were to say something, it might be that you two are adorable in your emotionally stunted way!"

"I'm going to bed. Tomorrow, you're replacing my ice cream," Acacia glared.

"Fine, fine. Sweet dreams, mission man!"

And so, Acacia retreated to his room. After deliberating about how much of an ass he should be to Noelle by possibly shattering her eardrums with a slam, he decided to close the door behind him with a soft click.

Acacia didn't exactly go to sleep; in fact, it was about 3:00 AM. Throughout this time, he had found himself drawn to the window in an inescapable lull.

The Irregular held a particularly incriminating photo in his hand.

One of Giovanni Narma. The dead scion of House Narma.

Of course, he didn't bring the photo all the way from Ocarina; rather, he had some time before waiting in the hospital to talk to Alaric to saunter over to the Windsor Times Square Library. One of their public computational devices granted access to a rather recent invention centrally planned by the Centrum Supremum: the Imperial Web. It was the Empire's first public attempt at showcasing a unified, cross-provincial information network. Unlike Ley Lines, which transmitted data and abstract information through thaumaturgical means and were thus inaccessible to Irregulars, the Imperial Web operated on a purely physical infrastructure. It was a sprawling nervous system of cables and thaumaturgically cooled server hubs designed as a strategic redundancy to monitor the lives of its subjects without fail, on top of spreading propaganda.

Obviously, it would never be advertised as such, but Acacia lived far too long in this crapsack Empire to see any technological achievement or national pride as anything other than cancerous propaganda that would make demons blush.

The Irregular had expected a walled garden of government propaganda and approved commercial sites, and while that was certainly present, there was more. He found public records, digitized newspaper archives from various provinces, and academic databases from universities like Vanguard. It was all heavily curated, of course. Any search for "Irregular rights," "rebellions," or politically sensitive names was met with a polite but firm "Access Denied by Imperial Mandate." Anonymity was a fiction; every query was logged, and every keystroke was monitored and tied to the user's Imperial Registration.

So he made sure to pickpocket a nearby man's ID on his way to a computational device while wearing a glove to avoid fingerprint tracking, so he could do a few curious searches, then search for a photo, then print out Giovanni Narma's school photo on the Heinemann Academy official website.

It was a swift and surgical operation, as Acacia would put the man's ID in the "lost and found" then shove his spare glove in his pocket.

Throughout the whole day, that photo was in his pocket.

And a lighter was in the other hand.

What he said to the blue-haired blueblood earlier was not a lie.

Acacia Belmont did not save Alaric Ptolemy for any other reason than his own sake.

An utterly selfish, greedy, prideful, sinful reason.

Simply to reconcile with Giovanni Narma.

That was the fleeting purpose, rather ephemeral, one could say.

Acacia truly hated Gio for the longest time. He bullied him relentlessly. Mocked his race and ethnicity, nearly killed him along with his friends, and his death was the main reason he was in this new world with an unbearable woman and even more unbearable people.

No one would blame the Irregular for hating his oppressor, just as one would not blame the enslaved for despising their masters.

Yet, Acacia didn't feel satisfied with his hate. There was no bravado or fulfillment in continuing to hate a dead boy, whose death was most likely not even warranted.

But there was a greater hate that festered upon the death of Giovanni Narma, nascent in its recognition, yet crystallized in its roots.

The Tachyon Empire.

A broken system that perpetuated the continuous creation of Giovanni Narmas. Entitled, materialistic, ignorant, solipsistic, and utterly loathsome spirits who only became this way because they were born with a silver spoon yet were never taught the responsibility that came with such favorable circumstances. Whether it was because of their insurmountable gifts or a way to compensate for their inferiority complexes due to secretly not being as talented as society intended them to be, it created the same cogs in the meatgrinder of an Empire.

Alaric Ptolemy was the same way.

Yet Acacia showed him a better path.

Because, in his greedy heart, a heart filled with irregularities, he believed that Giovanni Narma could have truly changed.

Thus, this was the Irregular's atonement to his tormentor.

His fellow cog in the machine.

The flame blazed brightly with a sudden flick of the lighter.

The boy, unloved by the world, placed the photo by the inferno, and watched it burn to nothingness.

Goodbye, Gio.

And... goodbye, Ocarina.

Night had fully descended over Windsor whilst the moon had completed its conjunction with Spica.

In the distance, the great windmills turned steadily, and the faint glow of streetlights and stars illuminated the city.

Crossing the dark expanse of sky, a pair of swans flew in perfect unison, their white forms cutting graceful arcs against the backdrop of stars.

Acacia Belmont slept without nightmares.