*
How long had she been walking? Ever since she regained self awareness... It was inevitable that she also started to perceive the passage of time. Day and night, the sky cycles between light and dark numerous times, without any knowledge of units she didn't understand how much time has passed, only that it has turned bright outside a certain number of times.
At a certain point, she finally met the edge of the forest. Of the continent even, nothing but the sea rose as far as her sight could carry. The breeze smelt faintly of salt, the animals that see her hid away without exception. Even their curiosity would not win over instinct, to permit getting closer to a threat like her. A long dull expanse occupied the full extent of her gaze, swirling deep blue and sparkling myriad colours that rose into the air, rushing into every corner then being pushed out.
There was no rhythm, no rationale, the water just moved wherever the momentum took it. They sink and rise like her thoughts ebb and flow continuously without an end in sight. A breath of life and the ceaseless march it embarks, when there's a beginning there's an end.
She knew that much. She killed demons, consumed their souls. Her skill is unique like no other, a property that isn't ordinary in the least. What did she dream before coming here? What did she hope to achieve before arriving in this continent? Her memories were located in a burnt out region of her brain, but she knew she had some goal before waking up on damp soil. All living things do, much like the demons, she would have had some higher purpose. Some meaning to her struggle that she needed to find.
Looking at the sea, she felt exceedingly lonely. There must have been more of her kind, more humans, more magical girls. Other living beings that weren't as belligerent as the demons that hunted her on sight. What would she tell them if she met any? What could she tell them? Did she possess any means of communication? Language? She breathed in the sea breeze, exhaling softly and slowly, and began to walk along the coastline.
For some reason, she felt reinvigorated by the view. Her heels caused the grass to crunch under, she was still atop a cliff above the beach below wrestling with the waves. The tides mercilessly rush up the shore and drag more sand down, crashing and pulling back, the pounding echoes from the side as she trekked the cliff's edge. Will she recover her memories? Her diagnostics tell her that a region of her mind was damaged by magic irradiation. The passage that brought her to this time and space, the excess information carried by the magic had more than just overstimulated her. It had eroded her cognitive faculties.
Thankfully, she retained her survival instincts. If she didn't retaliate, if she didn't defeat that very first demon, she wouldn't be able to conjure up any thoughts like she's doing now. As she walked, the contact between her low heels and the dirt beneath the grass returned a tactile feedback, clicking softly but rhythmically. It formed into a pace, carrying her forward endlessly.
As her steps grew faster, her legs flashed past the ground and gradually couldn't be discerned from a blur. The air feels warm, she can't feel the wind, she almost can't feel anything anymore. Nothing but the heat sailed across her skin, it's hot, scalding even by normal standards, but it fills her with warmth. Was she distressed this whole time? She was happy for the sake of being happy, drinking in the joy of living as she blasted past the environment.
After all, she survived. She lived to witness multiple sunsets after that entire fight went down, she kept her head, she kept her soul moving in the world of the living. An indescribable joy permeates all facets of her heart, burning into passion. The heat she accumulated was likely burning her surroundings into soot, but she didn't care. She felt... Alive. From a distance, it looked like there was a shooting star flitting past the tree covers, under a bright sunny day.
When the sky casted a mellow yellow, there was an arching spire across the sky piercing into space. A black altar massive beyond compare, if its full height was turned to fit the path she travelled, would it have been the same distance? Sat atop a hill facing the sea, sophisticated architecture lined every little inch of its body. Black on the outside and gold on the inside, it projected an ominous air that made it feel unreachable. It felt like a place that housed an unspeakable monster.
Walking closer, it filled up more than half of her vision. A pitch black castle that reached the heavens, why did it feel so familiar? Her thoughts slowed to a crawl as she arrived at the entrance, an ostentatious display of wealth spread before her. The entire door was made entirely of precious gems, but that isn't all there was to it.
Gems were the most magic conducive natural material, those without the talent or capability for magic would use them to house mystic techniques. Reusability depended on the craftman's ability, when it was first discovered that natural gems could contain and possibly reuse magic skills, the common people rushed to get their hands on them. Needless to say, natural gems were made even scarcer due to disposable usage destroying the supply.
The material's base ability to contain magic even via crude means was already absurdly high. What if the craftsman was a master of their craft? What if the magic fitting was equally sophisticated and the skills were selected and fine tuned to the highest potential? The gems stop being disposable, the magic becomes a permanent aspect of the aesthetic. This door protects the entire castle against curses and similar effects, it likely contained basic material durability enhancement and magic resistance as well. It was outfited with everything that could possibly serve the owner of this castle.
The size of this crystal mesh door was also impressive, a small army could march out of it without issue. However... The door was opened. None of that mattered as long as one could walk through it. She turned on her feet and strolled down the hallway. Her heart began pounding, and her head was beating against her skull like a drum. The pain blurred the boundary of her consciousness, causing drowsiness to seep in. A sharp pain assaults her mind without percy, like a hot knife stabbing into the centre of her head. Stab after stab, she started to grit her teeth tightly as she trudged with heavy steps. She winced every now and then, keeping her voice down and her magic suppressed.
"... So that's how it is... Let's go, Lastia. Time to see the truth. " (Lastia)