Tragic Heroine

“Countless individuals, from the most impoverished of orphans and urchins to the most privileged of nobility, all seek out the chance to enter through their local temple’s doors when they come of age. Do you know why, Christiana?” a bespectacled teen asked the girl sitting in front of him, making her perk up in attention. With bright eyes, she earnestly replied,

“I know, brother!. It’s so we can all become friends with the spirits, and become closer to heaven.” The boy chuckled at his younger sister’s innocence.

“Well, you are correct. Part of the Temple’s role is to facilitate man’s communion with heaven, most notably through helping children of age to initiate their once in a lifetime Bestowals, and contract a spirit.” hearing this, Christiana puffed her chest up in pride. Although her brother used words that were somewhat difficult to understand, she knew that he was complimenting and affirming her answer.

“But,” he continued. “That is only part of the reason why. The truth is that most people either want to turn their abject lives around or to further their already large fortunes. Forming a contract with a spirit can be a quick path to success. The lucky chosen few are able to advance their ambitions practically anywhere on the continent, and are given perks in admission to many prestigious academies, governments, and militaries.” 

“You should know that a powerful bonded spirit bestows the potential for near limitless growth as long as a person dedicates themselves towards growing stronger. A weak spirit would give little to no benefits aside from minor conveniences in daily life. In this way, even a commoner can usurp a king given enough luck, time and effort, and even the lowliest of the low could one day dominate over all others.” As he continued to drone on, his chin digging deeper into his hand in thought, he began to ignore everything else..

“How ironic it is that the gods decided the best way to bridge glaring inequality in our feudal society was with another system of inequality…” he muttered before realizing he was off on a tangent and snapped himself back into attention. He turned to his sister.

“But anyways, do you understand now how important this ceremony is to your future?” he asked. The girl nodded. 

“Yes, brother. I’ll make sure to get the strongest spirit, so that I can protect all of you!”

“Good grief, this girl…” James wryly smiled.

 

 

Christiana couldn’t help but reminisce about one of her one on one tutoring sessions with her older brother as she stepped past the massive open gateway to the Bestowal chamber. Glancing back at a long line of children from all walks of life, her naive promise as a little girl came back to haunt her.

Who am I kidding? I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself.

Realizing that her thoughts were running awry, she slapped her cheeks and steeled herself back to the situation at hand. At least, she tried; her anxiety at the present made it hard not to think about the past. 

She was but one of many here who wanted greater power and greater purpose. However, unlike the excited youths eagerly waiting in line for their turn --an exceedingly long and arduous task that could last almost the entire day-- she was a shaking, nervous mess at the moment. 

The girl did her best to relax: taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, clenching and unclenching her fists, admiring the elaborate patterns on the walls, and even counting the tiles on the marble floor to help ground herself. 

She turned back to see if her family was still watching her. There they stood, at the entrance to the chamber, sending encouraging nods and smiles in her direction. All of them, even her brothers, came to support her on this occasion: the day of her Bestowal.

There should have been one more person standing there with them, reassuring her and wishing her well for the future. But they weren’t here at this grand temple, nor were they in this world any longer.

She felt a needle striking at her conscience, a phantom pang of regret that came back with a vengeance every time she remembered the events of that terrible night. The struggleHad it not been for her own weakness, maybe her personal maid would still be alive to cheer her on, either with a choking embrace or a much too enthusiastic pep talk.

But Griselda wasn’t here, and it was all her fault. Because she stayed cowering as her maid bled and died for her safety. Even on hot summer mornings, she woke up feeling so unbearably cold without the comforting warmth of the one who always stood at her bedside to greet her.

And every reminder of this sin was a knife that stabbed deep into her chest. She thought her heart had long since bled dry, with warm, life giving essence no longer able to flow in her veins. She thought that after all the grief, anger, and lashing out, she would be numbed to the pain of loss. But it still hurt all the same, no matter how many days had gone by.

Now, dressed in ceremonial robes, stifling clothes that felt too heavy on her shoulders, the Lorien princess appeared similar to a holy maiden about to receive benediction from the heavens. 

This was in a stark contrast to her inner turmoil; Christiana still felt like a helpless little girl. She knew that no matter how pure and dignified she looked, the results of the Bestowal ceremony wouldn’t be decided by factors as trivial as appearance, but instead by the potential of her very being. The gods would be peering into the depths of her own pathetic soul.

Because she was royalty, she was given the special privilege of being the first among the many other children to initiate her bestowal --something she was somewhat grateful for as her bare feet touched on the marble surface. No shoes were allowed in these sacred halls, to make sure no surfaces would be marred or dirtied.

The raking sound of scraping stone resounded as the priests on duty slowly shut the chamber doors behind her, gradually reducing whatever light came from outside the room. Eventually there was only a narrow path of dim illumination from the ceiling. 

Slowly, she tread on the path in front of her, approaching a large circular platform that stood at the furthest end of the room. It stood out as it was shrouded in otherworldly radiance, a foggy cloud of stardust that made the area appear holy and sacred.

Behind the platform stood a giant statue of Klet, the divine aspect that governed oaths and honor. It was androgynous in appearance, having delicate features that made it indiscernible from the male or female sexes. The loose fitting garments shaped into the stone made it even harder to tell the sculptures true gender.

Its arms, which were spread out in an open gesture, were adorned in meticulously sculpted accoutrements: bracers and ornaments accented its body’s graceful curvature. The benevolent expression carved into its marble visage made the stone deity appear welcoming to whoever wished to undertake its trial. A somewhat mild appearance for a god that, according to myth and legend, took charge over all pacts and punishments, no matter how light or heavy.

As Christiana gradually approached the platform, her determination faltered, and her mind wandered towards countless what-ifs.The results of this ceremony will either give her the strength to move forward, or send her falling further into the painful cycle of self loathing.

She stepped onto the circular dais to be judged. 

Nothing happened. For a moment that felt like eternity, there was nothing but soul crushing silence. She could only feel her heart thundering in anxiety, hoping that something would happen. Despair began to slowly set in.

Please… I’ll do anything, just give me a chance.

Finally, just as she was about to get onto her knees in desperate prayer, the god’s statue sparked into life, and its eyes began to glow brightly. Runic formations and branching lines along the ground started igniting into arcane light. Ancient mana flowed along winding streams of symbols etched into the stone, and a faint hum broke the silent stillness of the air.

Her heart beat even faster. 

What’s happening? she thought in awestruck wonder. The emanating brightness intensified until it overwhelmed the room in blinding brilliance. Behind the luminescent veil, a thin hand reached out, followed by a tall, slender body. 

She gasped.

In front of her was the most stunning person she’d ever seen. The spirit’s skin was unnaturally pale, almost white in complexion, but this only added to its otherworldly beauty. Wispy garments clung to its lithe, feminine form, giving clear insight to its gender. 

The woman’s ears were long and tapered into sharp points. Silky smooth hair flowed down from her head in rivers of ghostly mercury. Grey eyes that shimmered like silver water under sunlight looked into Christiana’s own.

The spirit kneeled down so that its height matched with her’s. This action combined with its severe expression caused her to inhale sharply in anticipation for whatever solemn exchange was about to take place.

It opened its bloodless lips.

“I was expecting a more dignified looking contractor, but I guess you’ll have to do.”

Seeing the spirit speak directly to her, the Lorien princess forgot almost all her etiquette in a mindless fluster.

For another moment that seemed to stretch on to eternity, there was awkward silence between human and spirit, as the former struggled to find the proper words to say.

“H-hello m-m-miss s-spirit… it’s, er, n-nice to meet you?” she stuttered out, having neither the knowledge nor the mental endurance to respond coherently. It was almost unheard of for a powerful entity to materialize directly from the spiritual plane and immediately put themselves in a submissive position.

Which was why she was wholly unprepared for this encounter; she didn’t know how to act in front of such a noble existence. Especially when they kneeled down in front of her like a servant greeting their master.

Seeing that she was neither able nor willing to respond any further, the grey ghost frowned, and sternly admonished her like a parent would to a child.

“It won’t do for you to be so shy in demeanor, human girl. Warriors must stay firm in the face of anything and everything.”

Hearing those words made her shrink back a little. It was true: she had no redeeming qualities whatsoever that made her deserving of this spirit’s power. But it was one thing to know it, and another to acknowledge it. She defiantly looked the tall female apparition in the eyes, angry tears forming on the edge of her own. Seeing this made the ancient spirit sigh loudly.

“I’ve forgotten how prone to emotion you humans are. But, I’ll admit that I’m at fault as well for starting things off at the wrong foot. Let’s begin anew with our introductions, girl, and make our relations more amicable.”

The woman raised an arm to her chest while in her kneeling position.

“This one is named Raisendel Etren, branded upon my soul in the tongue of my ancient ancestors.” she paused, and then asked, with a microscopic hint of sheepishness in her tone,

“What is your name?”

The young princess broke out of her shocked stupor, and replied as confidently as she could.

“My name is Christiana. Christiana Lapis Lorien.”

“Lorien? Ah, looking at you more closely now I see that you are a distant kin to those ocean dwellers. They would be happy to learn that their blood still lives on in your world… sadly I can’t say the same for our own race.” she muttered.

“...What?” The girl said in confusion.

“Nothing. Nevermind what I said.” A faint trace of sadness appeared on the woman’s face for the briefest of moments before it was quickly replaced by another mask of impassivity. 

“You have a good name… Christiana.” 

“S-same to you… miss spirit.” Another flustered stutter, this time in response to praise rather than rebuke.

“Please, you can just call me Raison. Seeing as we are soon to be bonded spirit and partner. It would only make sense to do away with the formalities.” A rare smile graced Raisendel’s lips.

“But… Why did you choose me?” she asked with her head meekly facing downwards.

“Hmm…” Appearing troubled, Raison awkwardly began her explanation. “I’m not supposed to reveal the official purpose for why we spirits come to your realm, but many of us who do, choose so because they wish to see more of the world that the gods left behind. For some, out of nostalgia, and others out of a sense of adventure. I myself had the individual intent to find a partner. Someone with whom I can journey with, and maybe relive the days of glory from when I was alive.”

“And so, while it is true that the two of us met entirely by chance, I will say that I am interested. In you.”

Raison reached her hands to the girl’s temples, gently brushing aside locks of blue hair and intently staring into her glistening aquamarine eyes, like a jeweler examining the worth of two precious gems.

“Do you know this, Christiana? Our eyes can act as windows into the true nature of our soul. Everything that we would rather hide, and even aspects of our being that we don’t know ourselves, it is all revealed through here.” 

“Perhaps you don’t realize it yourself. But in you, I see a noble soul that is hurting itself. I see chivalry and benevolence being driven to a corner by envy and regret. I see kindness and altruism fading from a loss of self worth. I see you girl, crying for help alone in darkness.”

“How can I answer to the spirits of my forefathers, to the ghosts of my teachers and masters, if I am unable to use my power to help another in need?” a silver sheen of mana surrounded the woman, radiating pure conviction.

“Ah…” Christiana froze in astonishment. Tears were starting to form in her eyes out of an indescribable torrent of sheer emotion. Was the spirit Raisendel the salvation she was looking for all this time?

“We must hurry. Our time is short, and this duration of opportunity wanes with every passing moment.”

“Touch your forehead to mine now, girl. We must both initiate the contract for its bindings to take hold.” Impatience mixed into the spirit’s voice. Seeing that she was still hesitating, Raisendel spoke with more sincerity. “Please, Christiana.”

The girl broke out of her remaining reservations, and nodded. The two of them closed their eyes and approached each other until their bodies, minds, and souls alike met in union. They began the contracting ceremony, and a burst of starlight erupted from where human and spirit made contact.

“I declare the terms of this contract in the domain of Klet. By the honor and glory of those who came before me: I will serve as teacher and guardian to Christiana Lapis Lorien. I will bring out the greatness hidden in her soul. And so long as she remains steadfast in her path, and righteous in her heart, I will lend my aid to her to the best of my ability. While she stays true to her reason for living, my blade will always be at her side.”

Once Raisendel announced the contract’s terms to the gods above, a booming voice echoed throughout the entire chamber.

“It shall be so.”

The room burst into a flurry of motion and sound. At that moment, as if a tiny universe was being born in an exuberant roar of creation, Christiana felt her ears shake and her body tremble from the workings of the divine. She felt her very soul being fundamentally changed in some way.

When the chaos all settled down, the grey spirit Raisendel was no longer to be found. In her place was an elegant rapier that appeared to be forged from the concentrated essence of raging tempest winds. Swirling patterns evoking the image of mighty hurricanes blended naturally into the silver blade. 

The weapon promised power and brutal efficiency. It was thin, long, and deceivingly elegant. Just from the mere sight of it, she knew that once it was wielded it would become a gale that single mindedly cut through everything in its path.

Instinctively, she reached towards the sword’s handle, and gripped cold metal within her dainty hand. Holding it sharpened her mind to a razor’s edge, and her thoughts became vacant of all distractions and worries, leaving only conviction as solid as steel.

And it was then and there, resonating with the beautiful blade gifted to her by the gods, that she knew.

She had found her reason for living.

 

 

Somewhere along the line, the biological clock in Chris’s body signalled that it was time to wake up, all while her conscious mind lagged far behind. Breathing in slowly and deeply, the sleeping girl slowly stirred, her silhouette rising and falling with each quiet breath. 

Finally, gathering whatever scant willpower she had, she opened her eyes with great reluctance to welcome in the brand new day ahead of her.

[Seeing how the host is awake, the download must have been successfully completed.]

“Good morning to you too, System.” Chris replied. Sitting up on her bed, she took a brief moment to clear out the morning brain fog while sweeping an absentminded gaze around the room. 

Ahh damn, that was another memory popping up as a dream. I would rather not have them affect me even in my sleep but… guess it really can’t be helped.

Sleep is a gift.

Whether it be in the span of hours, or mere minutes, the concepts of time and space lose their hold on the mind of the dreamer, and all worries nagging at the corner of their head are flushed out, leaving only blissful slumber and freedom from the shackles of reality.

But for Chris, this kind of liberation was almost nonexistent; all of her fitful dreams in the past month have centered around her inherited memories in some way shape or form. Because of this, she rarely enjoyed restful sleep, as she was too busy reliving someone else’s life. It was yet another struggle she had to deal with on top of learning swordsmanship and honing her control over mana.

“But still, that dream felt so real there, man.” She felt the girl’s every emotion from grief to joy, as if she was actually Christiana. Well, she technically was her, but...

“It’s no use to think too hard about it.”

Yawning while stretching her arms to the ceiling, she started thinking about what changes had been made to the System overnight. Granted, it wasn’t as if she had spent a small fortune to acquire the DLC. However, any new assets could prove to be a valuable boon in her struggle to survive in Irudeia, especially later on as the events of the original novel progressed.

“Alright System, let’s go get ready for a productive morning.” While pondering, she got down from the bed, still in her nightwear. She hoped that she could sneak a snack or two before Griselda came to fetch her for breakfast.

“Hmm, let’s see. Maybe I’ll have a muffin this time?” 

While walking out, she didn’t notice that her grip over her mana reserves loosened slightly, letting a distraught cloud of static energy follow behind her.

 

Yarny Flashback chapter. No one is getting the shit beat out of them until probably 4-5 chapters later.