A Consensus

𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘱.

𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘱.

𝘋𝘳𝘪𝘱.

Melting, dripping, each wax dropped onto a small metal tray beneath it.

In a dark room, the candle's dim orange fire, dancing and flickering, casted shadows wherever its light shined upon.

Before the candle sat on the table, a young, black haired girl with sunset-colored eyes. Her face and eyes reflected the candle's light.

Before her, on the other side…was a statue.

Utterly stone-cold.

Motionless.

That was what she saw.

That was what she 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 saw.

The light only dimly shines onto the veiled face of a woman. If her eyes closed, she would not be able to even feel anyone sitting in front of her.

As though it was just…a blank space.

Perhaps it would be more fitting to call it a nonexistent entity.

Like looking at the tiny rippling surface of the ocean, no matter how hard she stared into it, she could only see the smallest waves, ripples, and its vast depths.

An empty husk of a light gray-haired woman.

So, the two sat silently.

That is, until the Fifth Apostle of the Descent, Agash'usha opened her mouth.

"I have come with greetings and a message."

"..."

"Are you going?"

"I cannot," the woman said. "I must hold this position, or else it will seep its power even further into the earth.

She fell silent, and that was that.

Then, something ticked the back of her head. She refused to turn around, gripping her fists underneath the table.

'No,' she thought. 'Why did I say that?'

The sunset-colored eyes in the background faded for the gray-haired woman's eyes were drawn to something else.

The candle.

Dancing, flickering-its flame moved in a manner that drew her eyes.

Then, suddenly, the tiny flame became two, and she felt her head moving back and forth, as though it was gonna fall sideways onto the hard wooden floor.

Her eyes throbbed with pain, like water pushing against the dam. Just like the creaking dam, her head also began pulsing with much more pain.

Even then, the dam refuses to break.

The gray-haired woman made it so.

It held against the onslaught of the raging waters.

Even if it was creaking, it was manageable; bearable.

Very miniscule and very simple to ignore.

Now, it was stronger.

Much, much stronger.

So she dug her fingernails covered by black gloves deep into the palm of her hands underneath her table.

Pain coursed into her palm, but the double vision gradually disappeared.

Only the candle, herself, and the Apostle remained.

The single candle flickered in the darkness, casting shadows around it.

The veiled, gray-haired woman clenched and unclenched her gloved hands once more.

The pain was there, clear as day. At least as clear as it should be before the sky becomes eternally cloudy.

'The past few seconds felt like a blur,' she thought.

Just like a dream.

Just like now.

"Ye fell asleep, unaware of the clarion call?"

'The clarion what now?'

"I was always awake," she responded. "But I am watching from afar."

"We must answer," Agash'usha said firmly. "We must, or else the cursed beast will grow in even more power. It's disgusting stench lingers. On every plant, tree, parsley, sage, rosemary, or thyme. It haunts us; it stalks us; it watches us."

"From the winds that blow through the snow; on every leaf, on the side of a hill, within the shadows-even now, it is always watching."

"So will you answer as well?"

"Where is your 'Lord?'" the woman abruptly asked in a demeanor befitting of someone dead.

The Fifth Apostle's eyes blinked.

"The Lord is occupied. Is it safe to assume that you'll keep watching this area?"

The five almost forgotten crown of diamonds spread in five different directions behind her head glowed much, much more ominously. Compared to the candle's light, they glowed a much more dull yellow color.

"Indeed," she simply responded

"So your 'Lord' has agreed upon this matter then."

"Yes, and he is occupied," the gray-haired woman responded. "As long as you do not interfere with his plans, and not enter this area without permission, then we shall keep our peace.

'Hmm?' she then thought. 'Who is? My Lord?'

Then the headache came back, and it furiously throbbed even more painfully.

It pulsed more profoundly. It refused to be ignored.

It told her of what happened.

Of what will happen.

'My…Lord…? My Lord…?'

It hurts.

Even her ears started ringing.

'Why must they do this to me?'

The tiny crackle of the candle's fire was only a small sailboat amidst the stormy sea that was in the sound of silence.

Just like her.

'Why? Why? 𝘞𝘩𝘺-'

That was when the Apostle spoke up.

"Then I agree. If that is all, and if that is so, the agreement has been made, I shall take my leave."

Saying that, she began standing up.

Her legs shook; they trembled terribly.

If it was because of tiredness or something else, no one knew, but the girl kept trying to stand up.

That is, until the gray-haired woman slowly, yet surely, stood up along with a long, strange black blue-patterned staff in hand, taller than six feet in height.

It glowed slightly, and somehow it slightly elongated.

They both towered over the 'shaking' girl.

'𝗞𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗹,' she then thought.

Then, the stranger fell onto her hands and knees.

The candle's light flickered out, and everything was casted into almost total darkness.

With the light gone, the room became freezing cold. Even without the sliding door opening near them, cold wind somehow whoosed into the house.

Only the thin dark-gray light entering through the sliding door barely shined upon the foot of the long black dress that barely just covered her foot.

Her entire upper body and face were entirely shadowed.

'𝗪𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽. Profess your loyalty and heart to me.'

So none can betray me forevermore.

'𝗦𝘂𝗯𝗺𝗶𝘁. The moment you dare enter this place, you are a guest.'

Yes, that is correct.

'You must've known,' she thought. 'The moment you leave, you can possibly be my enemy. All problems must be nipped in the bud. Here and now, I can finish this. Only when I let you go, can you go.'

"...no."

The gray-haired woman looked down at the kneeling girl.

Her long black hair draped over her entire head, and the five diamonds behind her head shined and dimmed, and she trembled.

"No," she said, much more strongly than before.

''...no?'

How perplexing.

"No," the Apostle said again, as though answering a silent question.

'Kneel, and I shall grant thee repentance,' the woman thought.

'You already have, and so I shall forgive you.'

"...no."

'Submit, and I shall grant thee peace.'

It is an honor.

'Worship, and I shall grant thee paradise.'

It is a promise.

'If you do not, blood shall be spilt, and the waters of the 𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗻 shall consume you entirely.'

"...no." the girl said again.

The Fifth Apostle of the First arms and legs furiously trembled as she shakingly began standing up once again.

Even with her fiercely trembling legs, even when sweat fell from her face and onto the floor, she forced herself to stand up over and over again.

She kept trying, trying, trying, trying, and trying.

Until she stood up ramrod straight and stared straight at a shadow.

A shadow in the darkness. A shadow in which she could see naught but a tall figure outlined, surrounded by the blue light of mana.

A light so illuminating, but very, very menacing.

As menacing as looking down into the deep depths of something vast and large.

Just like the 𝗢𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗢𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗻.

"No," the Apostle said again, and a dead yellow glow began radiating around herself, and the diamonds behind her head shined brighter.

…

"Was…was this part of the plan?" a white-haired boy murmured.

What was happening?

They were having their talk, right?

Then they agreed for peace, right? At least Avalow and Jonah thought so.

Then the Apostle began trying to stand up, the candle's flame suddenly died, Anna silently stood up, and the Apostle-? fell onto her knees and kept repeating "no?"

When the boy saw her on her knees…

"..."

This 'Apostle' was the culprit who put him to sleep. Yet…

He felt something burn in his chest.

Was this…pity? Sympathy? Simp-athy?

Inside the reflection of the bowl of water, with even more shaking legs, the Apostle slowly, but surely, began standing up straight.

Then, a strange dead yellow glow started shining around her.

Was that mana?

What does yellow represent? Blue is vast and stuff, but what is yellow?

What is even happening?

So he could only turn to the only person who knew what was probably going on.

"Avalow, what is even-"

The sound of someone quickly getting on her feet, running across the creaking wooden floorboards loudly, and resoundingly opening the door with a 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨.

As he finally turned his head, he saw very familiar legs hurriedly disappear into the hurriedly opened door.

𝘍𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘩…

The cold air entered the already freezing shed, and the door left ajar creaked as it pushed further into the shed.

Jonah stared at the creaking wooden door.

Then, he blinked.

Blinked.

And last of all, blinked.

Then finally, he understood.

Didn't Avalow ditch him just like this today?

'No wait, was it yesterday?' he thought. 'Well, this was midnight, after all, so…'

"...oh shi-!"

"Jonah," Chaya said. "No bad words."

"O-oh, right. Sorry…" he said. The boy began apologetically scratching the back of his hand with his warm gloves.

'...wait.'

"...wait, I should go-!"

Grabbing the metal staff thing on his side, Jonah also ran towards the opened door in a manner befitting of someone in a hurry.

Before he darted out the shed, he looked behind him.

"Stay here, Chaya."

He then made haste and followed behind the clearly deep footprints imprinted into the once flawless snow.

Chaya refused, of course.

The crunching noises behind him made certain of it.

'Welp,' Jonah thought as he sighed and turned back.

The little imp smiled brightly.

…

The waters of the placid lake.

Neither a ripple nor an echo.

Where nothing was taken.

Where nothing was unshaken.

The eyes speak many untold words while the mouth stays closed.

That was how vield gray-haired woman saw it.

The Apostle's sunset colored eyes, they were not the cold and empty look she saw.

The look she 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 she saw.

It was filled with unending stubbornness. A childish stubbornness.

'How familiar.'

So very familiar.

It was stubbornness so, so familiar to her.

'But what was it,' she thought.

Then, she remembered.

A stubbornness just like when that girl faced her-

The gray haired woman blinked, and Anna shook her head.

The dark, yet bright blue glowing brightly dimmed until it was nonexistent. With it, the candle's light reappeared, and the room was suddenly lit by an orange glow.

The freezing air bated somewhat, and the cold wind left the room seamlessly and silently.

"Since I have agreed, it is the host's duty to protect the guest until they leave. I shall escort you out."

The black-haired Apostle nodded.

She turned around, and took a step forward.

Then, she stumbled forward, immediately putting her arms sideways in the air.

Like balancing on a tightrope.

"..."

"..."

After a moment of standing still, slowly, very slowly, Agash'usha stood upright.

"..."

With shaking and trembling steps, the Apostle slowly walked towards the hall.

Anna followed behind.

…

Jonah yawned.

He scratched the wrist of his hand.

Then he yawned again.

Finally, he wrapped his arm around the even more covered little white-haired girl next to him.

Just in case.

'I should've taken a nap when I had the chance,' he thought as he, Avalow, and Chaya sat behind a bush near the front porch of the house.

He couldn't help it, alright?

Nothing is happening.

The minutes with his stomach pain no longer pained him with anxiety.

The heavy feeling on his chest had ebbed away.

It's still all there, yes, but it's so little now.

Nothing that tries to make him stand on his toes all the time.

It's just…boring.

'What's taking them so long?' he thought.

Earlier, Jonah and Chaya ran down the small path from the side of the house. They turned the corner, and they saw the door hadn't been opened yet.

Avalow was nowhere in sight.

Before he could run up to the two steps of the porch, he suddenly felt someone grab his arm and pull him into the shrubs.

Before he can even attempt to squirm or scream, someone puts their brown leather gloved over Jonah's face.

"Hey, calm down, it's me," a familiar voice said.

The white-haired boy relaxed, and with it, the glove fell away from his mouth.

He sighed, and white mist escaped from his mouth.

"Why aren't you going in to help Anna?" he whispered, patting away the dead branches for Chaya to sit.

"It looks like they stopped before I could enter the house," Avalow whispered back. "So I'm just outside just in case anything…strange happens."

Jonah nodded.

"So that's why you ran out and didn't say anything just like when you ditched me," he said understandingly.

The blonde girl eye's began looking everywhere except his general direction, "heheheheh-ed," and scratched the side of her head.

And that was that.

Now, the boy yawned once more, stretched his arms, and closed his eyes for just a little bit longer…

𝘛𝘩𝘸𝘢𝘤𝘬-!

"Hey! What the-!"

"She's the Fifth Apostle man!" the blonde girl whispered very loudly. His eyes trailed down to her arms. On one hand, she had her wooden staff as always.

On the other hand was a very familiar metal stick…

Wait, how did she get his metal speat thing!?

"Come on dude, get your head together…"

Saying that, Avalow handed the staff back to the boy.

'What is even an Apostle,' Jonah thought, taking the staff back. Still he just nodded his head.

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know."

Saying that, Jonah sighed and shifted his body, cracking a bone here and there.

After making sure Chaya wasn't too cold-he should've brought her back to the shed, but he felt anxious thinking she would be out of his sight-his eyes looked back at the silent front porch.

'Wait a minute.'

The boy looked back again at the blonde girl.

"There's this very, very interesting chair floating in front of the house. How about we get it?"

"Did I not say that we can't? It's bonded to her."

"I don't remember…" he murmured.

Then, they returned to silence.

All of a sudden, Jonah blinked and swiveled his head to the blonde girl.

"Wait…did you not say this Apostle might be a trap?" he quietly asked.

"That is then, and now is now," Avalow whispered seriously, her sight still on the door. It hadn't opened.

"You mean "this is now?"" he whispered back dryly.

"Same thing," she whispered and waved her arm.

"Um, Jonah?" a voice suddenly said. They both looked back at an innocent white-hairedl little girl.

"What's a trap?" she asked.

""...""

The blonde girl and white-haired boy looked at each other. They looked back at the little girl's eyes, and then back at each other.

Then they looked back at the girl again, and then at each other.

"...this is your fault," Jonah seriously whispered.

"Hey, language," Avalow seriously whispered back.

"How is that even-no, it's your fault that you even mentioned the word trap in the first place!" the boy very intently whispered.

"Also, I think I've asked this earlier, but how do you even know what a trap is-?"

"Don't try to turn away from the topic, Jonah. I've also noticed that lately you've been cursing these past few hours-"

"I'll stop you right there, good fellow. I'm the one trying to turn away from the topic? Do you need a mirror? I think I got one for you-"

"As a matter of fact, I do…and oh my, what a coincidence! I also have one just for you-"

𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘢𝘢𝘬-!

The two immediately ducked and crouched deeper into the shrubs. Very quietly, they peeked through the opening in the shrub.

Or rather, they tried to.

"Hey, move, I can't see anything," the boy whispered.

"You're the one taking the most space though? Go find another shrub to hide," the blonde girl whispered back.

"How about-"

…

'A turtle can move faster than this,' Anna thought.

Her apologies, that was an insult to turtles.

A 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭 can move faster than the stumbling girl.

In front of her, the poor girl was using the wall as a means to assist her moving forward ever so slightly with each step.

With each step, her legs trembled as she hugged the wall.

Anna's head never turned. She just slowly walked forward with the staff within her left hand and always looked in front of her.

But her eyes strayed from the front and onto the poor struggling girl.

The veil was indeed the perfect item to wear to hide one's face, expressions, and eyes.

Truly, it was a work of wonder. Whoever invented it was a genius.

…anyways, she took solace in the fact that she hadn't degenerated to that point.

Time had passed, and after an unnecessary and exceedingly long time, they made it to the door.

Anna necked with her finger, and the door made a loud 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘢𝘬 as it slowly opened.

Of course it was just a tiny, invisible string of mana which she quickly constructed on her foundation.

Earlier she had tied it around the doorknob.

Finally, they stepped outside.

The cold freezing air blew by, ruffling her long white-gray hair and black veil. She exhaled, and a white mist escaped from her mouth.

Then, suddenly, Anna looked to her right.

Not so deep into the forest, she saw a staff sticking out along with a puffy gray hat that almost camouflaged with the snow.

"Hey, move, I can't see anything."

"You're the one taking the most space though? Go find another shrub to hide."

A certain two people were whispering. Yes, they were whispering, but they were whispering very, very loudly.

"How about I don't do that, and you do it instead?"

"How about-shhhhh, they're here!"

"Oh cra-I mean oh…macaroons."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...did you really have to curse?"

"...I'm sorry."

Finally, it became quiet.

Anna looked back at the Apostle. The Fifth Apostle was looking intently at the wooden handrail. As though it was the most important thing in the world.

She then looked back at the shrubs.

Was that…was Chaya waving her hand at her behind them?

Very nice.

Then, Agash'usha took a step to the wooden handrails. Her legs trembled, but she walked forward with a strange stubbornness.

Each trembling step, she moved forward. Step by step, she finally made it to the handrails.

She reached to grab it, but then one of her trembling legs gave in, and she stumbled and fell sideways.

Then something managed to hold onto her-her right hand per se-before she fell face first onto the ground

"Holy macaroni and fudge sticks."

Indeed, it truly was a holy macaroni and fudge sticks.

…

Everything seemed to have frozen as a white-haired boy held onto the sunset-colored eyes girl's right hand with his left.

Let us review what had just happened, shall we?

So here he was, arguing with a blonde-haired girl.

Then, he saw the door open, and he felt something tugged his heart strings the moment the first person walked out.

The girl whom he saw hours ago, sitting on the floating throne. The radiance behind her head, like a dead-yellow halo, glowed and dimmed almost interchangeably.

The way its glow shone onto her silky black hair, the way her sunset-colored eyes illuminated brightly amidst the snow, like the color of twilight-

It was like the nostalgic color that he…

That he cannot see anymore.

"..."

So many thoughts ran through his head. So many thoughts flowed through him, like a river that flows wherever it wants. A raging river that cannot be stopped with mortal hands.

The river keeps flowing forward as far as his eyes can see. It weaves, connects, intertwines, and flows.

Before his own eyes, in which he cannot contain it all, the river gradually became smaller. Smaller and smaller, it went, until it was the size of a stream. No, it was the size of a braided string.

A string that weaves, connects, intertwines, and flows.

A string that converges and takes shape. Twisting, tangling, splitting apart, but only till one day will they come back together, becoming something more.

From him to the sunset-colored eyed girls, he saw it was wrapped around each of their wrists.

The white-haired boy saw it flowed, and he flowed along with it.

Something told him to go with it. It pushed him, whispering to him about a distant future.

A future where-

He grabbed her hand.

𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘨-!

The bell rang clearly in Jonah's head.

He blinked.

And there he was.

The red string disappeared, and there he was, holding her. The cold wind blew past his face, scratching it.

He didn't know what to do. He felt sweat, even in the cold, dripping down from his forehead and neck.

Blink? Gulp? Vomit and scream?

Was this what "fight-or-flight" is?

Time slowed to a crawl, in which he felt as though he could make any decision in an indiscernible amount of time.

Even then, he cannot comprehend why his eyes can neither leave nor drift away from the girl's eye.

Those sunset-colored eyes…they were the ones that made him faint.

As he looked into her eyes, something fell from his pocket.

It landed on the soft, pillowy snow, and it abruptly-

𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬.

As it clicked, whirring noises came from it. In just a matter of moments, a series of sounds was made.

A jumpy, yet 'classy' type…

A familiar song that compels him to dance along.

Wait, wasn't this…Lambada?

Rather than "fight-or-flight," what about dance?

'So,' the boy thought.

'Let's dance.'

And he danced.

…

The white-haired boy brought his right leg forward, then the back.

Front, then back.

The boy then stepped right up to her, their chests nearly a centimeter apart. He placed his right hand a little above the girl's left waist and below her arm; right at the shoulder blade.

Holding it gently and yet firmly, he quickly began 'stepping sideways' with her. With each step on the cold snow, his shoulders dipped down and rose up.

As he swung the girl back and forth, the girl didn't move at all.

No, the girl was moving.

Rather, she was just 'letting' the river's currents drift her wherever it goes. Like a human in a swirling whirlpool, she didn't seem to even attempt to resist as the boy pulled her along.

There was no anger, rage, annoyance, or anything that's related to emotions shown on her face.

Slowly moving in a circle, slowly twirling, backstepping, swinging-the girl's black hair swayed left and right.

She simply followed what he did.

Even if the girl did look very stiff.

Very, very stiff.

Then, almost suddenly, he 'spun' her away, their arms fully outstretched.

After that, the boy smoothly pulled her back to him, and raising his left hand over her head, he spun her around, her dress twirling outwardly.

Then, when he placed his right hand on her left shoulder blade once more, he repeated the steps.

'One step, two step, three step…'

Again.

Again.

And again.

…

Two kids, around the age of thirteen, danced in the cold snow outside at midnight.

A boy and a girl, dancing with each other.

One wore a gray coat, and the other wore a dress not meant for a cold day with slits.

Even as they were dancing in the freezing cold, their eyes never left each other. It was like they were in their own world.

It was like they were in their own world.

How lovely out of the box this is.

This would've been better if it was twilight.

Nearly brought a tear to a white-haired little girl's eyes in the shrubs.

'This is just like mommy and daddy…' she thought. The girl suddenly shook her head with great strength.

Then, taking a deep breath, she placed both open hands at both sides of her mouth. Before a blonde girl could even notice, she shouted-

"Triple step! Polka! Swing Dance! Waltz!"

"Hey, get down-!"

It was too late.

Each shout, the white-haired boy changed to various forms each step he took. One moment, his hips were sashaying-the next it was smooth; refined.

Fast, quick, or slow-he did them all.

The little white-haired girl, a girl, and a gray-haired veiled woman watched them from a few yards away.

"This is…ballroom dancing? Jonah actually knows how to dance?" one of the two asked. Her eyes were looking as though a miracle happened.

…which it really did.

"How come this guy knows?" Avalow asked.

"My mommy and daddy taught him, of course," Chaya said. Then, the little girl's shoulders fell.

"They…they loved classical music and ballroom dancing."

The blonde girl's face became incredibly pained.

"My daddy was big and tall, and people didn't feel like he shouldn't even be doing such a dance, but he still did it anyway. He always loved dancing with mommy…" she whispered. Her tiny legs, appearing large because they were covered by layers of clothes, began shifting here and there

The snow, flawless in beauty even under the dark-gray night sky, was pushed and kicked away by her shoe.

Chaya's head suddenly perked up.

"When did Jonah get a recorder?" she asked. The blonde girl scratched her cheek and looked away ever so slightly.

"I gave it to him a few hours ago," Avalow said. "I didn't know what it was, so I just gave it to him."

"Oh."

And that was that.

On the wooden porch in front of the door that just closed, a veiled gray-haired woman found herself in the front seat of something truly out of this world.

It was utterly fantastic.

She ingrained it all into her memories, 'recording' it all. She also 'turned' up the volume to maximum.

Time seemed to stop for the two, for many minutes passed and the two continued dancing under the lightless black-gray sky.

The soft, tiny snow fell around them, as though they were parting ways for the dancers to dancer unimpeded.

"This is something…" Avalow muttered. Then, she blinked, blinked, and blinked again.

"Wait," she suddenly said. "Should we even be trying to stop them?"

Jonah's dilated eyes, hurried breaths, a downpour of sweat…the poor guy's brain must be running on a potato XL.

It didn't take a genius to know that Jonah was improvising and panicking.

Then, as though it listened to the blonde girl, the recorder abruptly cracked and stopped playing.

And everything stopped as well.

…

Jonah stepped away from the Apostle.

The girl didn't seem to even care nor have the effort to look nonchalant.

Closest thing she would look like is…disinterested?

Nothing related to her demeanor had changed. Even her trembling legs didn't stop shaking like an actual earthquake was occurring right beneath their feet.

"Thank you for the dance," he managed to get out of his mouth.

Jonah then bowed, crossing his right arm across his chest.

The Apostle just stared at him before looking at the other three.

Then, she-tremblingly and shakingly-almost fell to the ground.

Before Jonah could even move his legs, something gripped his shoulder incredibly hard. So hard to the point he nearly yelped. But the boy never yelped, for he felt something much, much colder than he had been since that time in the supercenter store.

"..."

A veiled gray-haired woman towered over him by at least a foot.

'Who…who is she?' he thought.

"A…Anna?" he somewhat asked hesitantly..

'Anna' looked down at him, and he would never admit he nearly screamed. He couldn't even see her face, but he felt like he was dropped into a tub full of ice.

Then, she looked away from him.

He gulped, as the grip on his shoulders became even tighter.

The boy would admit he almost yelped again.

So he only watched as he walked back up to the throne.

Even as his back was sweating a river.

"..."

The poor boy blinked.

Jonah felt as though the throne was farther away than he thought it was.

Perhaps the Apostle's slow walking made it look so far away and feel longer?

Finally, Agash'usha stepped onto the floating onyx black throne.

Then, with the swish of her dress, she turned around and sat onto it.

"The contract has henceforth been signed, viewed upon by the highest, and my debt to thee has been earnestly returned, and so too shall thy karmic ties no longer chain us."

She looked somewhere at the shrubs to her left, then the white-haired boy, and finally the veiled gray-haired woman.

Then, on her floating chair, she simply flew off into the dark-gray sky.

Within a moment, she was only a black dot surrounded by a landscape of gray white.

In the next she was gone.

Just like that.

…

'That's…it?'

A white-haired boy's eyes followed the flying throne until it disappeared beyond the horizon.

Many seconds passed as he tried to look beyond it.

'Where is that Apostle girl going?'

'What even is an Apostle?'

'Wasn't her name Agash'usha?'

'Why is that name so weird?'

A great number of questions ran through Jonah's head like a galloping stampede of horses, but he just didn't know.

…it felt like everything the past minutes was just a blur.

If he tried to ask Avalow, she would definitely say something confusing. Anna is probably the same-

Someone grabbed his shoulder again.

The poor boy jumped into the air and spun around.

"What the-"

His mouth stopped moving as a black-haired girl close to his height and of similar age. Wearing a coat, she stood before him. The black spear-staff she held in her hand was much smaller, unlike the elongated one previously.

"O-oh, it was you, Anna…" he managed to say. Very gratefully, he finally mustered up a sigh filled with relief.

"Who else did you think it was?" she asked.

"Well…uh…um…"

As Jonah kept sputtering, Anna looked at the horizon.

It was as dark as always, full of white, gray, and very dark gray clouds.

Full of mysteries and snow.

Then, suddenly, her nose wrinkled and twitched. She immediately covered her mouth with her left arm.

"Ah...Achoo!"

As she sneezed into her left arm, Anna began patting around herself.

'Where's the napkins…'

As she almost desperately kept patting around, a handkerchief appeared right in front of her.

It was decorated and sewed quite exquisitely. Actually, it seemed a little familiar to her. No, not just familiar.

It was extraordinarily familiar.

"Bless you, 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘺."

"Thank you."

Anna grabbed the handkerchief that was held out, and placed it just over her nose.

"..."

"..."

Even when a tiny flash blue light appeared as though out of nowhere near them, they still stood in place.

Even when something cracked in the black-haired girl's head.