CHAPTER 44 – HUES OF DAYBREAK
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
The weight of Lysander's words bore down on me, like a crushing weight that threatened to consume my very soul. I felt a sharp, icy dagger pierce my heart, each word he uttered driving it deeper. The air grew colder, and the once-familiar surroundings blurred as if seen through a haze of disbelief.
I clenched my fists, feeling the sharp sting of my nails digging into my palms. My throat tightened, not from the mere act of swallowing but from the overwhelming urge to scream, to release the pent-up anguish coursing through me. My eyes, usually a window to my emotions, remained shut, shielding me from the unbearable reality unfolding before me.
Drawing a breath felt like pulling air through a straw clogged with mud. Each inhalation was shallow, as if the very act of breathing had become a laborious task. The room's atmosphere grew dense, suffused with an electric tension that threatened to ignite at any moment.
My lips parted, forming a barely audible whisper. "Lysander..." His name lingered on my tongue, heavy with unspoken questions and shattered trust. My mind raced, a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories colliding, making it impossible to form a coherent response.
Across from me, Lysander's anguish was palpable. His eyes, usually bright and expressive, were now clouded with tears, mirroring the raw pain etched across his features. His hands trembled uncontrollably, betraying the internal battle raging within him.
He took a shaky breath, attempting to steady himself. "Hiraya," his voice cracked, teetering on the edge of desperation and disbelief. "I will ask again. Why would you forsake your lover for me?"
I bit down on my lip, teeth sinking into the soft flesh, a feeble attempt to anchor myself against the relentless surge of emotions. The pain in my chest persisted, an unyielding weight that threatened to overwhelm me. As I inhaled sharply, I gathered the strength to provide an unfiltered response.
"It was spontaneous," I admitted, the words escaping through gritted teeth. "In that moment, saving you felt like the only option. All I could think of was preserving a dear friend."
Lysander's reaction was immediate, his scoff laced with bitterness. He gulped audibly, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface. "Dear friend?" he spat out, his words charged with resentment. "Johnny is supposed to be my dear friend. We're meant to stand together, fighting side by side to wipe out Neo Arcadia. With Johnny, not you!"
A searing ache throbbed in my chest at the harsh reality unfolding. "Eh?"
His next words cut through the air like a serrated blade. "Do you honestly believe you can replace Johnny in my heart? You're nothing but a damn bitch!" Lysander's cry reverberated, and as the echoes faded, he bowed, cradling his left elbow. "Haven't you figured it out? I hate you. I despise you. I loathe you. I've tried to kill you, but I keep missing the chance!"
I felt my chest constrict at his brutal honesty, the pain intensifying. With resolve, I moved towards him, closing the distance until our eyes locked in a silent confrontation.
The weight of his words settled heavily on my shoulders, each revelation like a stone added to the burden I carried. "So, all this time, your distant glances and guarded demeanor—they stemmed from this disdain?" My voice wavered, echoing the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within me. "You've preached about saving countless lives from terrorists, but have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps I needed saving too? Was I simply collateral damage in your grand plan? A sacrifice for the greater good, while you save everyone else?"
Lysander's gaze faltered, the weight of guilt shadowing his azure eyes. They shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the turmoil of regret within him.
"Look at me," I pleaded, my voice soft yet firm, compelling him to meet my eyes.
With evident reluctance, he raised his gaze, locking eyes with me. His expression was a mosaic of regret and sorrow.
"Remember our pact?" I pressed on, the intensity in my voice unwavering. "I swore to stand by you, to help reshape the future. That promise wasn't just a fleeting vow; it's etched into my very soul. Whether I ascend as a Dragon Lord or become humanity's adversary, know this—I will honor our pact. Even beyond my mortal existence, I'll find a way to uphold that promise."
Lysander's confusion hung in the air like a palpable mist, his face a canvas painted with bewilderment. "What... What are you saying?" he stammered, his voice a desperate plea for clarification.
"I'll become the darkness to vanquish the shadows," I asserted, a flame of determination igniting in my eyes. The anger in my words cut through the air like a blade. "If that's the path laid out for me, if becoming a Dragon Lord is my destiny, then I will embrace it. But rest assured, I'll wield that power to ensure humanity's survival."
"But, Hiraya, that's impossible," Lysander protested, his voice laced with desperation. "You can't be both a Dragon Lord and an ally of mankind. It's contradictory!"
"I will defy the limits," I declared, a fierce resolve in my voice. Tears streamed down my face, a testament to the emotional maelstrom within. "I may not know the path to prevent my transformation into a Dragon Lord, the darkness that consumed me in your past. But I'll harness every ounce of strength to safeguard humanity.”
Lysander's shoulders slumped, his face etched with a poignant sense of defeat. "Hiraya," he whispered, the weight of our shared destiny pressing down on us both.
Drawing a shuddering breath, I allowed the tears to flow unchecked, each droplet a tangible manifestation of my turmoil. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, as if trying to contain the overwhelming emotions threatening to engulf me.
An oppressive silence settled between us, thick and tangible. Time seemed to lose all meaning, its usual markers of seconds and minutes rendered inconsequential in the face of our shared anguish. Only the subtle shift in lighting, the gentle transition from darkness to the soft hues of daybreak, hinted at the passage of time.
As the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, a poignant tableau unfolded before us. The absence of buildings allowed the unobstructed sun to cast its golden glow, transforming the remnants of Tasty Town into a juxtaposition of beauty and desolation.
"Lysander," I whispered again, my voice barely above a breathy exhale.
His gaze locked onto mine, the dawn's ethereal light dancing across my features, painting them with an otherworldly glow.
"I've pledged to safeguard humanity, but there's something crucial I need from you in return," my voice wavered, each word heavy with urgency and vulnerability.
Mustering every ounce of determination, I locked eyes with him, the intensity of my gaze unwavering. Slowly, I reached out, extending my hand in a plea for understanding and assurance.
"Promise me," I began, my voice catching as raw emotion threatened to overtake me. "Promise me that you'll be my salvation. No, not just a promise," I interrupted myself, the gravity of my request sinking in. “Lysander. Please, save me."
Lysander recoiled, his eyes widening in a mixture of horror and anguish. He retreated, putting distance between us as if trying to evade the weight of my plea. His gaze averted, he murmured to himself, his voice tinged with regret and self-reproach.
Turning away, he muttered softly, his voice tinged with remorse, "I made promises, so many promises. Promises to protect my family, to save my town. Yet, I've faltered, failed them all. How can I save you when I couldn't even save them?"
"Yet, I beseech you to try," I pressed on, desperation evident in my plea. "Even if in a past life I was the adversary you despised, I urge you to rescue me now. Without you, I fear I'm destined to remain stuck in this unyielding fate."
The transformation in Lysander was palpable; the dullness in his eyes began to give way to a glimmer of hope. His features contorted with indecision, yet beneath that uncertainty lay a determination, a flicker of resolve that urged him forward.
With deliberate steps, he closed the distance between us, each movement weighted with significance. "Hiraya," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and longing.
With a blend of vulnerability and hope, I extended my hand once more, a gentle smile gracing my lips and a faint blush coloring my cheeks. "Lysander, I'm begging you—save me."
Each entreaty I'd voiced weighed heavily on my heart, but now, in this pivotal moment, our shared desperation forged a bond stronger than any words could convey. While our losses were profound, and the path ahead uncertain, the promise of unity offered a glimmer of solace.
Tears glistened in Lysander's eyes as he reached out, his hand trembling slightly before enveloping mine in a comforting grip. "Hiraya," he vowed, his voice unwavering as he returned my smile with genuine warmth, "I will save you. This I promise."
Overwhelmed with emotion, I nodded fervently, my smile widening. "And I will honor that promise," I affirmed, determination evident in every word and gesture.
The first rays of dawn bathed Lysander in a soft, ethereal glow, transforming him into a figure of mesmerizing allure. His silver locks danced gracefully, caressed by the gentle breeze that heralded the day's beginning. Gone was the listlessness from his eyes; they now gleamed with a fervent vitality that seemed to breathe life into his very being.
As I held his hand, an unexpected sensation washed over me—a fluttering in my chest, a rapid acceleration of my heartbeat. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the sensations I'd previously associated with Alris and the distinctive rhythm known as the Vesryn Pulse. Yet, upon reflection, I realized this sensation wasn't new; it had stirred within me during the tumultuous battle against the Rene Volk and the Arctic Dragon when I'd desperately called out Lysander's name.
Our moment of reflection was abruptly interrupted as a powerful gust of wind roared through, drawing our attention skyward. Dominating the horizon was an imposing airship, its vast wingspan casting a shadow over us. Emblazoned upon its sails was a striking emblem—a fusion of a pair of wings and a sword, unmistakably marking it as the insignia of the Dragon Knight Academy's esteemed Chevalier Unit.
CHAPTER 44 – HUES OF DAYBREAK
HIRAYA MISTELTEIN
The weight of Lysander's words bore down on me, like a crushing weight that threatened to consume my very soul. I felt a sharp, icy dagger pierce my heart, each word he uttered driving it deeper. The air grew colder, and the once-familiar surroundings blurred as if seen through a haze of disbelief.
I clenched my fists, feeling the sharp sting of my nails digging into my palms. My throat tightened, not from the mere act of swallowing but from the overwhelming urge to scream, to release the pent-up anguish coursing through me. My eyes, usually a window to my emotions, remained shut, shielding me from the unbearable reality unfolding before me.
Drawing a breath felt like pulling air through a straw clogged with mud. Each inhalation was shallow, as if the very act of breathing had become a laborious task. The room's atmosphere grew dense, suffused with an electric tension that threatened to ignite at any moment.
My lips parted, forming a barely audible whisper. "Lysander..." His name lingered on my tongue, heavy with unspoken questions and shattered trust. My mind raced, a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories colliding, making it impossible to form a coherent response.
Across from me, Lysander's anguish was palpable. His eyes, usually bright and expressive, were now clouded with tears, mirroring the raw pain etched across his features. His hands trembled uncontrollably, betraying the internal battle raging within him.
He took a shaky breath, attempting to steady himself. "Hiraya," his voice cracked, teetering on the edge of desperation and disbelief. "I will ask again. Why would you forsake your lover for me?"
I bit down on my lip, teeth sinking into the soft flesh, a feeble attempt to anchor myself against the relentless surge of emotions. The pain in my chest persisted, an unyielding weight that threatened to overwhelm me. As I inhaled sharply, I gathered the strength to provide an unfiltered response.
"It was spontaneous," I admitted, the words escaping through gritted teeth. "In that moment, saving you felt like the only option. All I could think of was preserving a dear friend."
Lysander's reaction was immediate, his scoff laced with bitterness. He gulped audibly, a turbulent mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface. "Dear friend?" he spat out, his words charged with resentment. "Johnny is supposed to be my dear friend. We're meant to stand together, fighting side by side to wipe out Neo Arcadia. With Johnny, not you!"
A searing ache throbbed in my chest at the harsh reality unfolding. "Eh?"
His next words cut through the air like a serrated blade. "Do you honestly believe you can replace Johnny in my heart? You're nothing but a damn bitch!" Lysander's cry reverberated, and as the echoes faded, he bowed, cradling his left elbow. "Haven't you figured it out? I hate you. I despise you. I loathe you. I've tried to kill you, but I keep missing the chance!"
I felt my chest constrict at his brutal honesty, the pain intensifying. With resolve, I moved towards him, closing the distance until our eyes locked in a silent confrontation.
The weight of his words settled heavily on my shoulders, each revelation like a stone added to the burden I carried. "So, all this time, your distant glances and guarded demeanor—they stemmed from this disdain?" My voice wavered, echoing the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within me. "You've preached about saving countless lives from terrorists, but have you ever stopped to consider that perhaps I needed saving too? Was I simply collateral damage in your grand plan? A sacrifice for the greater good, while you save everyone else?"
Lysander's gaze faltered, the weight of guilt shadowing his azure eyes. They shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the turmoil of regret within him.
"Look at me," I pleaded, my voice soft yet firm, compelling him to meet my eyes.
With evident reluctance, he raised his gaze, locking eyes with me. His expression was a mosaic of regret and sorrow.
"Remember our pact?" I pressed on, the intensity in my voice unwavering. "I swore to stand by you, to help reshape the future. That promise wasn't just a fleeting vow; it's etched into my very soul. Whether I ascend as a Dragon Lord or become humanity's adversary, know this—I will honor our pact. Even beyond my mortal existence, I'll find a way to uphold that promise."
Lysander's confusion hung in the air like a palpable mist, his face a canvas painted with bewilderment. "What... What are you saying?" he stammered, his voice a desperate plea for clarification.
"I'll become the darkness to vanquish the shadows," I asserted, a flame of determination igniting in my eyes. The anger in my words cut through the air like a blade. "If that's the path laid out for me, if becoming a Dragon Lord is my destiny, then I will embrace it. But rest assured, I'll wield that power to ensure humanity's survival."
"But, Hiraya, that's impossible," Lysander protested, his voice laced with desperation. "You can't be both a Dragon Lord and an ally of mankind. It's contradictory!"
"I will defy the limits," I declared, a fierce resolve in my voice. Tears streamed down my face, a testament to the emotional maelstrom within. "I may not know the path to prevent my transformation into a Dragon Lord, the darkness that consumed me in your past. But I'll harness every ounce of strength to safeguard humanity.”
Lysander's shoulders slumped, his face etched with a poignant sense of defeat. "Hiraya," he whispered, the weight of our shared destiny pressing down on us both.
Drawing a shuddering breath, I allowed the tears to flow unchecked, each droplet a tangible manifestation of my turmoil. My hand instinctively moved to my chest, as if trying to contain the overwhelming emotions threatening to engulf me.
An oppressive silence settled between us, thick and tangible. Time seemed to lose all meaning, its usual markers of seconds and minutes rendered inconsequential in the face of our shared anguish. Only the subtle shift in lighting, the gentle transition from darkness to the soft hues of daybreak, hinted at the passage of time.
As the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, a poignant tableau unfolded before us. The absence of buildings allowed the unobstructed sun to cast its golden glow, transforming the remnants of Tasty Town into a juxtaposition of beauty and desolation.
"Lysander," I whispered again, my voice barely above a breathy exhale.
His gaze locked onto mine, the dawn's ethereal light dancing across my features, painting them with an otherworldly glow.
"I've pledged to safeguard humanity, but there's something crucial I need from you in return," my voice wavered, each word heavy with urgency and vulnerability.
Mustering every ounce of determination, I locked eyes with him, the intensity of my gaze unwavering. Slowly, I reached out, extending my hand in a plea for understanding and assurance.
"Promise me," I began, my voice catching as raw emotion threatened to overtake me. "Promise me that you'll be my salvation. No, not just a promise," I interrupted myself, the gravity of my request sinking in. “Lysander. Please, save me."
Lysander recoiled, his eyes widening in a mixture of horror and anguish. He retreated, putting distance between us as if trying to evade the weight of my plea. His gaze averted, he murmured to himself, his voice tinged with regret and self-reproach.
Turning away, he muttered softly, his voice tinged with remorse, "I made promises, so many promises. Promises to protect my family, to save my town. Yet, I've faltered, failed them all. How can I save you when I couldn't even save them?"
"Yet, I beseech you to try," I pressed on, desperation evident in my plea. "Even if in a past life I was the adversary you despised, I urge you to rescue me now. Without you, I fear I'm destined to remain stuck in this unyielding fate."
The transformation in Lysander was palpable; the dullness in his eyes began to give way to a glimmer of hope. His features contorted with indecision, yet beneath that uncertainty lay a determination, a flicker of resolve that urged him forward.
With deliberate steps, he closed the distance between us, each movement weighted with significance. "Hiraya," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and longing.
With a blend of vulnerability and hope, I extended my hand once more, a gentle smile gracing my lips and a faint blush coloring my cheeks. "Lysander, I'm begging you—save me."
Each entreaty I'd voiced weighed heavily on my heart, but now, in this pivotal moment, our shared desperation forged a bond stronger than any words could convey. While our losses were profound, and the path ahead uncertain, the promise of unity offered a glimmer of solace.
Tears glistened in Lysander's eyes as he reached out, his hand trembling slightly before enveloping mine in a comforting grip. "Hiraya," he vowed, his voice unwavering as he returned my smile with genuine warmth, "I will save you. This I promise."
Overwhelmed with emotion, I nodded fervently, my smile widening. "And I will honor that promise," I affirmed, determination evident in every word and gesture.
The first rays of dawn bathed Lysander in a soft, ethereal glow, transforming him into a figure of mesmerizing allure. His silver locks danced gracefully, caressed by the gentle breeze that heralded the day's beginning. Gone was the listlessness from his eyes; they now gleamed with a fervent vitality that seemed to breathe life into his very being.
As I held his hand, an unexpected sensation washed over me—a fluttering in my chest, a rapid acceleration of my heartbeat. It bore an uncanny resemblance to the sensations I'd previously associated with Alris and the distinctive rhythm known as the Vesryn Pulse. Yet, upon reflection, I realized this sensation wasn't new; it had stirred within me during the tumultuous battle against the Rene Volk and the Arctic Dragon when I'd desperately called out Lysander's name.
Our moment of reflection was abruptly interrupted as a powerful gust of wind roared through, drawing our attention skyward. Dominating the horizon was an imposing airship, its vast wingspan casting a shadow over us. Emblazoned upon its sails was a striking emblem—a fusion of a pair of wings and a sword, unmistakably marking it as the insignia of the Dragon Knight Academy's esteemed Chevalier Unit.
