The sound of pages flipping in an endless rhythm filled her ears as she sat before a pile of books, adding to the comforting noise. All around her, books flew and went, like a metropolis of stories.

It was no wonder she missed this place. Years have gone by, and yet the Grand Dungeon Library continues its ever astounding growth. Perhaps this was nothing more than a reflection of the answer she was seeking to begin with…

The march of time was unending.

Mistress Sienna smiled as she flipped to the next page. "I found it." Her crystal-like eyes gazed at the words at the top: Chapter 5: The Creation of Ages. The first paragraph read as follows:

In with the new, out with the old. As that saying goes, nothing truly lasts forever. Even history is numbered in such a way. Perhaps it is fate that drives us to the next stage, or simply our own desires. But when the inevitable comes, the ones who suffer the most are those left behind in the past… How tragic it is indeed for time to march forward, while those who usher in the new beginning fester and wither? But then again, not even the Gods can escape this cycle…

I wonder… When will that idiot king realize this truth?

As she read the words, a flare of emotions returned to her. It was as if her longing had once again been ignited.

To think this book is the reason it all started… She couldn't help but sigh.

"Mistress Sienna. Why the long face? Did that book contain something unpleasant?"

She turned to her left to see the visage of a young woman. Chiseled abs, a stoic face resembling a statue, and vibrant ginger hair that flickered occasionally from winds blowing up from below… The ever-shifting labyrinthine bookshelves and the swarms of books flying in all directions had a tendency to cause that.

She smiled warmly at her then shook her head slightly. "Nay. It just made me remember my past…" She leaned back against her chair, flicking her cone hat away from her line of sight. Up above, Sienna could see it all unfold before her very eyes. Scholars entering floating rooms just like the one she was in now, shelves realigning to their needs, books reorganizing themselves into their proper places… Like cells within an organism, they all played their part.

"Remember the past, huh…" Tina crossed her arms and smiled. "Who would have thought I of all people would end up in Luvinica—your old home… I get why you always missed this place now. This library alone puts everything I've seen to shame. The one in Celestine that you managed was nowhere near this in scale…"

"My true old home is the Temple of the Stars," SIenna corrected with a chuckle. "But yes… I used to love being here. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my books. Drowning in endless stories and scriptures. As a young magi, there was no place better than this in the entirety of Luvinica. Some even started calling me the Star-Twinkling Hermit—a title I never really minded."

"And yet now, you are the librarian of the fifth floor." Tina said, beaming. "Not even the Archmages who live within these academic walls get that kind of honor."

"Its not as if I wanted it," she sighed. "The Headmaster can be so aggressive with his suggestions at times… I suppose that's the price I must pay if I want to read these forbidden tomes again."

Tina nodded. "So what exactly is up with that book?"

"A Journey of New Eras," she answered, the stars in her eyes flickering radiantly, "A book written by some mysterious magi from long ago… If not for the words in this tome, I perhaps might have lived an entirely different life. I may not have even met you or my precious disciples."

"It's that important?" Tina's eyes widened.

"Yes… It was these words that made me realize my ancestor's goals once more… The reclaiming of this world's Celestial Fate—the ushering of a new era… That has always been the destined goal of all Witches of Star Fate.

"And yet, I ran away from it. My responsibility. My burden. For the longest time, I did not want anything to do with it. My younger self believed in themselves more than in fate."

Tina glanced at the book in her mistress' hand, an inkling of desire welling up inside her. "That's certainly interesting… If only Soren was here—he would probably eat a horse just to read this book."

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Sienna chuckled. "I personally don't think so."

The Silver Archer titled her head slightly. "Why is that?"

"Because the answers found in this book are not the ones he seeks." She sighed as she leaned forward, flipping the page once more. "As one would expect from the Third Foolish One of History."

Tina shook her head. "If you want to call him stubborn, just say that." She glanced up, far past the ever-shifting tomes and scrolls to where this library descended from. A grand, circular opening leading to somewhere beyond this very space.

"Still, I find it fascinating… Who even wrote this astonishing book to begin with?"

Sienna's lips curled up into a faint smile. "Who knows… All that's left is an alias.

"Pendragon."

The faint echoes of screams and explosions rang in their ears as they walked step by step through the narrow shaft. A hallway layered in darkness and dust, where the only thing to be seen were the faint outlines of metal bars and the disgusting stench of those who lived beyond them.

"So this is the underground prison," Soren said. Though he sounded astonished, it was nothing more than an act. He was no stranger to captivity after all—his very own contracted daemon was stuffed into a cell much more dangerous than any of these.

Walking beside him, Myrella, the Elven Songster Princess nodded. "I had a similar reaction to you. Thanks to your efforts on the wall, a lot of these empty cells have finally found new residents."

As she said this, the howls of the prisoners reached them.

"Let me out! Or just kill me already!"

"Damned long ears."

"I swear on the Night Lord's name, I will kill all of you!"

The pair ignored them. Though, the warrior escorting them sneered. "They're so damn pathetic. If you crave death this much, just kill yourself. Or is that seen as dishonoring your god?" He shrugged as he walked past their curses and screams.

Soren watched him very carefully. After all, this was no mere guard. Ilrune Olatoris—a 5th Class Sentinel with affinities in Earth and Nature. His powers were nothing to scoff at.

Sensing his gaze, the man furrowed his brows. "Damned slave. What are you looking at?"

Soren looked away, but the princess didn't allow it to happen. "Ilrune, have you already forgotten your oath? He is a guest of mine—if not for his heroic actions, we would all be dead. Any disrespect shown to him is disrespect shown to me."

His expression instantly shifted, "I apologize, Your Highness. I just don't see the value in this… Letting that traitor out will stain your honor."

"Do not question my decisions, Ilrune. As the next in line for the Verdant Throne, I must always treasure my words. I said I would honor the request of Sir Soren, and that is what I shall do."

"Sir Soren…" The man muttered. "He is undeserving of a name…"

The princess ignored him. Soren, however, found it slightly amusing. The Myrin he had known was a jolly soul who delighted in teasing others—a slacker in spirit and perhaps in body as well… But he has always shined when it comes to chasing after the desired goal of his mistress. He was also one to cherish life, finding beauty in its simplest of forms… the melodies he plays reflect that truth.

But the Princess Myrella walking beside him was different. She was mature, ambitious, and—above all—imposing. A true royal in the flesh. Every decision she made was calculated and deliberate. Even this request he had made of her was a part of her plan. Knowing she couldn't free Cassia herself without a proper reason, she had engineered the award ceremony to give herself the perfect excuse to do so.

Now that it was his reward for defending the wall, there was nothing the nobles could say that could sway her decision.

As he secretly glanced in her direction, a thought continued to play in his mind:

If Myrin had never been exiled… Would this have become his persona?

It seemed likely. After all, there was a purpose behind every decision the Blossom Sword Flower has made with this… Mirror Game of Hers.

Finally, their long and lonely trip had ended.

To his right, Soren spotted the remnants of what appeared to be an ancient cell—far more rusted than the others. It felt as though this part of the prison had not been visited in years.

As the torchlight flickered beside him, it cast enough shadows for him to see the outline of the one left to rot behind the metal.

Clipped wings. Broken arms. A tail restricted with chains… Skin clung to bone as she rattled her bare feet to the new presence greeting her 'home.'

The pair of magi stood there, unable to say anything. Soren personally had feared the worst, but this was already past his imagination…

They… They fucking tortured her? He didn't know what expression to make.

"Ah… You're finally here…" He heard a meek voice echo past the metal bars. Soren glanced at her once more, anger filling his gaze. Her disheveled hair covered her eyes, but she was still looking at them, as if expecting visitors.

"Hollowed Star fragment…" She coughed. "I've been awaiting your arrival."

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