The susurration of leaves grew louder around us, but the air was so still and unmoving that I could scarcely breathe.
“I apologise, I realise that is quite the redundant question,” the lady said with a chuckle. “I was created for the sole purpose of preserving the memories of Stefania. Your presence here means that my purpose has been fulfilled.”
“Ste…fania?” I felt a lump in my throat as I croaked out the strange, yet familiar-sounding name. “Stefania…was that my name in my past life?”
She simply nodded her head. “I’m going to assimilate my memories with yours now, then everything shall be revealed.”
Suddenly, the dark forest around me vanished in wisps of white smoke and I found myself standing before a tiny old-fashioned cottage house bathed in aureate sunlight; its gabled moss-covered roof, rustic wooden door and glazed lattice windows seemed like something straight out of a fairy tale, I immediately thought.
“Where am I…?” I said to no one in particular while I took in the bizarre sight.
As I looked around at the garden bursting with curious blossoms and peculiar flowering vines in front of the house, a strong sense of deja vu enveloped me. The scenery, the smell of fresh mountain air and the cooling sensation of wind on my skin—everything about this place was unsettlingly familiar, as if I once belonged here.
No, wait a minute…I did belong here. I knew this house and its garden from top to bottom. This was where I, Stefania, was born in the world of Eltshion and lived with my single mother until my innate divine powers were manifested and discovered by the Resistance.
It was this realisation that opened up the floodgates; memories of my past life came flooding back to me in an instant.
The supreme domination of the omnipresent demons over Eltshion and the subjugated races, who wanted to free themselves from their millennia-long tyranny, forming the Resistance in secrecy; they believed in the prophecy that a ‘Hero’ sent by Heaven will one day descend upon Eltshion and aid them in vanquishing the almighty Demon Lord. My affinity for magic, something that was forbidden by the demons, was discovered when I turned five and the Resistance took me in, training me to wield the Holy Spear in a dilapidated temple far from the demonsʼ eyes. At the age of ten, I killed my first ever demon and the Demon Lord quickly knew of my existence, the only threat to her eternal rule. Eltshion soon was swept up in a devastating war between the rebels and the demons—
—until the fateful day my comrades stormed the Demon Lordʼs castle, the last stronghold of the demons, and bravely sacrificed themselves to bring an end to the bloody war.
“Pathetic weakling, so youʼre the Hero every being in Eltshion has been harping on about lately?” the Demon Lord, a thousand-year-old vampire queen who even the highest of all demons feared, regarded me with total contempt. “You are with no doubt the most presumptuous human Iʼve ever heard of.”
In the grandiose hall of the ancient castle, I was acutely aware of the intimidating aura emitted by Lukterasiaʼs entire presence. Her mocking tone sent a chill down my spine; as expected of a near-immortal vampire, eight years of bloodshed and violence were all but inconsequential in the Demon Lordʼs dark, languid eyes.
“But…” I smiled faintly in her amused face. “...you have heard of me, Your Excellency.”
Her facial expression distorted in anticipation of battle. The deaths of her loyal subjects and lesser demons all over Eltshion must have gotten under her nerves; no matter how much she tried to hide her fury, her killing intent was too palpable.
In response, I sharpened my consciousness—slowing time around me to a lengthy crawl—and readied my spear.
Thus began a beautiful slow dance to our deaths.
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