“What… does that mean?”

Menglan looked at Varie, eyes blank as a lake with no wind.

After a while, something clicked; dew glazed her emerald pupils, and her long brows trembled like leaf-tips in rain.

“Why… why say something that cruel, Varie…? After everything I did, I still don’t deserve to stay by your side?”

Varie shook her head again, like a bellflower refusing the wind.

“You’re still the same, spiraling into shadows, silly girl.” She wiped the tear at Menglan’s eye like brushing off dew. “I meant it, word for word—the letter wasn’t a lie.”

Menglan’s gaze stayed clouded, like mist that wouldn’t lift. Varie kept going.

“Dummy, didn’t it cross your mind? The Nacha Tribe held the coming-of-age rite far from where you slept. So how did I end up, right on time, in that sea of roses that night?”

Her brows arched in a tiny frown. She tapped Menglan’s forehead with a finger, light as a firefly.

“Because I didn’t leave everything here. When I wrote that letter, I’d already decided. Even if the rest of my memories couldn’t survive, the place we chose to meet—I’d carve it into my bones.”

Varie spoke to Menglan, and also to the knot in her own chest.

Why had her reaction flared so wildly that night, like lightning under cloud? What was that voice steering her feet toward the rose-field? With her memory restored, the tangled skein finally loosened.

“I kept our promise. I went to the place we chose, like the letter said, Menglan.”

See? I didn’t lie—Varie’s voice carried like a lantern. Menglan blinked, hope kindling like a small hearth—and then…

In the next breath, her lids lowered. The spark in her eyes died like a firefly in frost.

“But you still only carried out a sliver of memory… You didn’t even remember why you went to that flower sea, did you?”

Menglan looked at Varie with sorrow, a wound laid open to moonlight. She knew it was true, and the hurt showed.

This time, Varie didn’t dodge behind words. She nodded, simple as falling snow.

“Yeah. I only remembered I had to go. The reason itself slipped away.”

The bluntness hit too clean. Menglan froze, then the grievance in her eyes climbed like high tide. “So you really still—”

“—None of that matters now.”

Varie cut in like a blade through knotted reed. Menglan stared, as if thunder had struck a clear sky.

“H-how can you say that? How can our past not matter…?”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean.”

“Eh?”

“I mean… whether I remember or not, it’s about the same. Because I… I…”

Her words tangled like grass in streamwater. Her small round lion ears quivered, and her voice shrank to a mosquito hum.

“(Because right then… I fell for you again…)”

“Varie…? What are you saying? I can’t hear you…”

Varie looked at the lost-light in the eyes of the woman in her arms. She shut her own, struggled for a heartbeat, then drew in air like courage, face burning. She flung the doors of her chest wide and shouted.

“I’m saying, what’s the difference if I remember or not? The moment I saw you, I fell in love with you again!!!”

“…Eh?”

The naked words stunned Menglan to stillness, like a bell struck silent. Varie, already committed, charged on.

“So I told you—the letter wasn’t a lie!”

“No more foolish stunts, okay? No more dying together, no more ‘stay by my side forever’ through blood and bone. Not needed!”

“No matter how many times I’m reborn, memory or no memory, I’ll find you on the far side. I’ll fall for you again. That’s it. Remember that, Menglan!!!”

Would Menglan understand?

Did her feelings cross the river?

And… wasn’t that line a little too cheesy?

Varie honestly didn’t know. Across two lives, her literary stash was a near-empty inkstone. Even if she had a verse or two, nothing better came. So she just shouted the truth, straight from the ribs.

Menglan only stared, dazed, cherry lips parting and closing like a fish in moonlit water. Finally, in a trembling voice: “B-but…”

“What ‘but’ now?”

“But… that morning, you ran off without a word, you pushed me away and fled. After that you kept dodging me, kept running till you slipped past the barrier. I even gave you a key to come and go, and you never came back to see me, not once—pwah—ahhhh…”

Seeing Menglan flip open the old ledger—and not about to stop—Varie sighed, helpless. She gave her a gentle hand-chop on the head. Menglan’s yelp was almost cute, like a startled sparrow.

“You… really have zero self-awareness, do you?”

Menglan tilted her head. She truly seemed lost. Varie gritted her teeth and poked at her skull with a finger, like drilling into stubborn wood.

“That was because you, the moment we met, just forced yourself on me…!”

“A—ah?!” Menglan flushed like sunrise. “I just… saw your face and… lost control a little…”

“Lost control? Do I need to remind you what ‘sexual consent’ means in law? And did you not notice the full moon was wringing me inside out?”

Varie pinched both her cheeks, kneading them like soft dough, hating iron for not becoming steel.

“Even if we ignore all that, forget that I’d lost my memory—say we were just lovers reunited after a long road. Even then, you didn’t have to pounce without a word and start using your fingers, right? And strictly speaking, I wasn’t even of age yet. How did you dare to strip me right there!”

“Uu… uuu… my face—ow, it hurts, Varie…”

When Menglan began to beg, Varie finally let go and huffed, turning her face aside like a cat flicking its tail.

Menglan peeked at her, then after a spell, asked again, carefully.

“I-I’m sorry… but, if that’s the case…”

On the road to slay Soul Devourer Sormaidon, you didn’t actually hate me, did you? She stammered out the truth seeking light. The flush racing over Varie’s cheeks answered for her, as plain as sunset.

Words weren’t needed, but Varie still answered.

“Yeah. But your first impression that night was god-awful. I wanted nowhere near you,” she confessed with a sigh, surrendering to it. “And you kept fidgeting with that dagger called ‘Widow’ right in front of me… So dumb, so dumb. You clinging to those memories was dumb to bursting. So what if we can’t take them back? We can make new ones, right now.”

“New memories…”

Menglan blinked, rolling the words on her tongue like a warm plum. Her hand on Varie’s clothes tightened like a knot.

“Then… can we still go to the Icebreaker Strait to watch the sea?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t we? No tollgate on the road.”

“…But the little wooden hut we built… by now it’s probably…”

“You’re so fussy. A little hut is a flick of the wrist.”

“Mm… mm, you’re right… Oh—speaking of which, the Jade-Plum should bloom soon—”

“—Yeah yeah, the Jade-Plum, Twinflower Jade, Red Sakura Geode… I don’t know why you Elves love stones that bloom like flowers. But if you want them, whether it’s rocks or anything else, I’ll go with you and make it happen.”

“Eh? Really? Anything at all?”

“Yeah. Once we get out of here, whatever you want to do.”

“Then… I heard Ayu and the others cultivated a super nutritious energy fruit. It tastes several times worse than Sara-melon. I accidentally promised to be a taster… You’ll come with me, right?”

“…I take it back. You dug that pit. You eat it alone.”

Varie squeezed Menglan’s cheeks again. Menglan giggled like windbells, learning nothing at all.

Watching her relax like that, Varie couldn’t stay angry. The corners of her eyes softened like dusk light.

Her body uncoiled. She propped up the beauty in her arms and watched Menglan sketch in the air, her long fingers trailing emerald lines of magic. She drew the places she wanted to go, the things she wished to do, the future she wanted to weave with Varie.

In those dreams, some earned Varie’s yes, some earned a poke in the temple and a dry quip. No matter how wild the idea, how ridiculous the demand, the faint curve at Varie’s mouth never faded, like a crescent moon clinging to cloud.

The heavy air around them melted away without notice, leaving only the hush of shared breath. It felt like clock hands spun backward, backward for countless circles—back to before the Chaos Uprising, before the final choice, back to a spring that hadn’t broken.

Soaked in that mood, time itself seemed to lose weight.

“It’s fine. Once this is over, whatever memories you want, I’ll be there to make them with you…”

After who knew how long, Varie murmured it, half to herself, half to nail down her resolve like a peg in earth.

Hearing that, Menglan lifted her face to meet Varie’s eyes and smiled.

That smile tightened the heart Varie had just unclenched, like a hand closing on glass.

“Thank you… Varie.”

It was a happy, peaceful smile.

The same one as when she first said she could stay forever by her side.

A sharp pain shot through Varie’s chest, cold as iron. She jerked her head up and scanned the space. But the world around them was covered by Menglan’s green threads of magic, paintings upon paintings, hiding the true shape of the room.

Only then did she realize what she’d missed.

She tore a swath of the magic threads with one hand. The sight hit like winter.

Void Rifts yawned everywhere.

Most of them had already filled, particle by green particle, while she hadn’t noticed.

“You… you’ve been…!”

Varie stared at Menglan, stunned. Her hair had shortened again, and her whole being looked thin as a moon-reflection on a lake—one touch, and it would shatter.

She’d been leaning into Varie the whole time, giving her weight wholly over.

Varie, drunk on the tender air, had taken it as closeness. She never thought it was because Menglan no longer had the strength to hold herself up.

“Mm. Sorry, Varie. I… I guess I’m the liar here…”

At her apology, Varie’s last sliver of hope guttered out. She grabbed Menglan’s hand. The warmth was there, but the pulse was faint as a moth’s wing.

“Stop. Don’t pour your power into mending the formation! Keep this up and you’ll vanish!”

Her panic met only Menglan’s wan smile—and words that broke like surf on stone.

“To close this gate… something must be left on this side.” Menglan shook her head. Her emerald eyes were dim, yet her will shone like a blade. “This is… what I have to do.”

“No—no, there has to be another way—”

Menglan’s fingertip pressed gently to Varie’s lips, stilling her storm. Her gaze told the cruel answer.

Of course there wasn’t another way.

If there had been, they wouldn’t have separated then, would they?

Cold and choking, the pain climbed Varie’s spine like ice. Words fled her. Menglan cupped her face with gentle hands, steady as spring rain.

“It’s okay...” She smiled, fragile as moonlight skimming thin ice. “And at the end, hearing you say that... I’m happy, Varie.”

I really...

Really happy...

Menglan’s voice thinned like mist at dawn, growing faint and breathless. Around them, the portraits drawn by her magic began to shatter, turning into green motes that drifted down and filled the fractures ringing their bodies.

No—don’t leave me, please— Varie dropped to her knees, her voice breaking like a cracked bell. She clutched Menglan tight against her, grief flooding her chest like cold rain.

No matter how tight she held, she couldn’t halt Menglan’s voice from fading. She couldn’t force those eyes to open again, no matter how she prayed.

Varie belonged to the Nacha Tribe. In this life, she would never taste the heartbreak born in the Elf First Generation’s blood.

But if there was a moment closest to that wound, it was this one, carved into the present like a knife across bark.

It wasn’t a complex emotion. Thought guttered out; all that remained was one bare, unadorned idea.

She’s gone— and I don’t want to live.

Yes. Just like the choice Menglan made back then, Varie wanted to stay with her, to sink roots into the same ground and refuse the sun.

That mad thought devoured every thread of her mind, but—

Just as she was ready to act, Menglan’s voice brushed her ear again, warm as breath on winter glass.

“Uh... Varie... I’m moved you love me that much, but you’re squeezing my chest, and it kinda hurts...”

…?!

She let go in a rush. Menglan in front of her still looked fragile, like a flower after rain, but death was nowhere near her door.

“You’re okay?! I thought you died!”

Menglan shrugged, innocent as a cat flicking its tail. “I never said I’d die, did I?”

“But—but you said you’d stay here forever...”

“Ah, seems my wording wasn’t precise. I caused a little misunderstanding.” She pressed her palms together, a sly “sorry” sliding out like a wink.

“Sealing the Void Rift does need a ‘proof of existence.’ But the main seal was already done. I’m just repairing it, so memories from before this awakening are enough. No need to sacrifice everything like you did.”

“...”

“Don’t stare at me with that scary look~ And hey, you left your memories from that period here too. If I leave matching memories, that’s us keeping the promise to ‘stay together,’ isn’t it?”

Menglan flashed a little-devil grin, bright as a firefly in dusk.

“More importantly, you said you’d love me forever, Varie. This memory isn’t the past— we’ll be taking it out with us.”

“...”

“Wait— ow—ow, oww! That hurts!”

In the void, the teaser’s plea for mercy came first, fluttering like a startled sparrow.

“Fine! I admit you win! Seeing me this pathetic must thrill you, huh?!”

Realizing she’d been played, Varie growled, then yanked Menglan’s cheeks— harder than the last two times combined— until Menglan could only mumble for mercy, lips squished.

Even so, when Varie finally let go, Menglan’s smile snapped back like a spring. Her pride didn’t dim by a flicker.

“Hmph, now you get it~”

“Get what?”

“Now you know how I felt when I woke up, and the first face wasn’t yours, but the Human King’s sour mug. The despair? Yeah.”

Menglan puffed her cheeks and poked Varie’s face. Varie wanted to fight back, but she replayed her own panic and wilted like a leaf out of sun.

After a moment, she turned her gaze away, stiff as a spear.

“Fine, fine, I messed up then— but you went too far this time! We’re even, okay?”

Saving face, Varie put a bit of space between them. She stood, muscles coiled, scanning the dark like a sentry on a midnight wall.

Menglan tilted her head, not quite following the sudden switch.

“Why’re you staring at me? Hurry up. Fix it, and we’re out.”

“Sure, I can hurry... but what are you doing?”

“Protecting you.” Varie answered like it was obvious, posture tight and ready. “You’re repairing the seal. The mastermind outside will try something, right? I’ll block him. You focus.”

Menglan’s eyes widened, then she shook her head, a leaf shaking off dew.

“Actually, that won’t be necessary.”

“What?”

“If I’m guessing right, that human never planned to revive the Chaos Uprising from the start.”

Menglan looked toward the far distance, closer to the exit of the Void Rift. There, a blood-red storm burned through the dark, its light pooling in her emerald eyes like dye in water.

“After all, his real goal...”

Is so much smaller than that.