CELESTIA - CHAPTER 55 : What Remains
The inexplicable deaths kept piling up.
The news anchor spoke in a grave voice, the kind used for catastrophes no one wanted to name. Behind him, images scrolled by: residential buildings, bodies covered with white sheets, streets cordoned off with police tape.
"For the past week, authorities have reported a surge in so-called 'paranormal' deaths across the country. The victims, mostly high school students or young adults, reportedly bear traces of burns and strange markings resembling luminous seals…"
Arthur D. Blackthorne sat in a black leather armchair, in a windowless room. His hands were folded on his knees. His face showed nothing.
Before him, a giant screen broadcast the news on a loop.
"Authorities are urging the public to exercise extreme caution. No official lead has been prioritized, but some experts suggest…"
"Lucan."
Arthur's voice was calm. No anger. No urgency. Just a cold weariness.
"Turn it off."
Lucan, standing near the door, grabbed the remote. The screen went black. Silence returned, heavier than the images.
"What do we do about it?" asked Lucan.
Arthur stood slowly. He walked to the window. Outside, night. No stars. Just the yellow haze of the city, distant, indifferent.
"We observe."
"We don't intervene?"
"Not yet."
Lucan opened his mouth to insist, but a sound cut him off. The door was opening.
A silhouette entered.
Tall, slender, dressed in a long gray coat that nearly dragged on the floor. Long, straight black hair fell over his shoulders. His face was young — too young for the dark circles carving his eyes.
Arthur didn't turn around. He knew that silhouette. He had seen it disappear, years ago, in a flurry of complaints and slammed doors.
"Arthur. Still so grim."
"Ryo."
Ryo stepped forward. His boots clicked on the parquet. He stopped a few meters from the armchair, hands in his pockets, gaze elsewhere.
"I'm back."
Arthur finally turned. He looked at Ryo without haste, as one examines a relic they never asked to see again.
"What for?"
"To rejoin the Paladins." Ryo shrugged. "I need money."
Lucan coughed. A stifled, suppressed laugh.
Arthur didn't flinch.
"You were banned from the system, Ryo. Seven years ago. You were not worthy of becoming a Paladin."
"Worthy?" Ryo tilted his head. "A Paladin is a savior. A purifier. That's what you always say, isn't it?"
"That's what I say."
"And I've saved people. Lots of people."
Arthur looked at him.
Lucan pulled a file from the bookshelf. He opened it, took out a stack of papers. The pages rustled.
"Do you want us to read them?" asked Lucan. His voice was neutral, almost polite.
Ryo didn't answer.
Lucan began.
"Ryo Kajima. Former Seraphim. Suspended for executing three suspects without a warrant, 2016. Permanent expulsion in 2018 for causing the death of two civilians during an unauthorized intervention. Since then, flagged for artifact trafficking, repeated curfew violations, and…"
"That's enough," Ryo cut in.
Lucan put down the file. He didn't smile.
"You remember, at least?"
"I remember."
"And you want to come back?"
Ryo looked up. His eyes were empty, but not cruel. Just tired. Tired of lying, perhaps. Or tired of having to remember.
"I want to come back."
Arthur looked at him for a long time. Very long.
"A second chance."
Ryo blinked.
"What?"
"I'm giving you one. You probably don't deserve it. But I'm not here to judge what you deserve. I'm here to protect people. And if you can help us, even with your dirty hands…"
He paused.
"… then help us."
Ryo was silent. Then he nodded. Once. Without excess.
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me."
Lucan put away the file. He turned to Ryo.
"One thing, though."
"What?"
"The labyrinth exam. You heard about it."
Ryo smiled. A slow, almost soft smile.
"I heard, yes."
"There was a boy. Kai Kurogane. Do you remember him?"
"Kai…" Ryo closed his eyes. His eyelids trembled. "The little one with absorption. He impressed me back then."
"He was in the exam."
"He survived?"
"Yes."
"Good." Ryo opened his eyes again. His gaze had changed. Clearer. More present. "I'd like to see him again."
"Why?"
"Nostalgia." He laughed. A dry laugh. "The blood in that trial wasn't enough. Not to my taste. But it's a start."
Lucan and Arthur exchanged a glance.
Ryo didn't see that glance. He turned on his heel. He left.
The door closed.
In the hallway, his footsteps faded, then disappeared.
---
The air smelled of salt and wet grass.
Zayn sat on a rock, at the top of a hill overlooking the sea. Before him, the ocean stretched as far as the eye could see, gray and calm, under a low sky. The waves rose, fell, rose, fell — an infinite movement, without anger, without haste.
Beside him, Azel stared at the horizon.
They hadn't spoken for a while. It wasn't necessary. Sometimes, presence is enough.
Zayn held his wrist. Borealis was off. No glow. No vibration. Just a white bracelet, cold, inert.
"In the labyrinth…" Zayn began.
"I know."
"You weren't there."
"I couldn't be."
Zayn looked up.
"Why?"
"Because if I had intervened, the trial would have been canceled. And you would have stayed at your level. You wouldn't have progressed."
"People died, Azel."
"I know."
"Rex. Kofi. Masamune."
Azel lowered his eyes.
"I know."
Zayn waited. He waited for an excuse. A justification. A word that would ease the guilt.
Azel said nothing.
"You have nothing to say?"
"Yes." Azel turned to him. His face was calm, but his eyes… his eyes had aged. "I'm sorry."
"That won't bring them back."
"No."
Zayn clenched his fists.
"I saw them die. I saw Kofi burn. I saw Rex lose his arm. I saw Masamune fall, his head twisted. I saw…"
His voice broke.
Azel placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You saw hell. And you came out alive."
"That's not enough."
"It's all we ask of you."
Zayn looked at him. He wanted to answer, but the words didn't come. He looked at the sea. The waves continued, indifferent.
"Why do we fight?" he asked.
"So that the sea can keep rising and falling. So that ordinary people can look at the horizon without knowing what hides behind it."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
Zayn thought.
"I fight for my friends. For Cynthia. For Rodrigue. For Blanche. For Yojuro. So that no one I love ever dies in a stupid trial again."
Azel nodded.
"That's a good reason."
"You think?"
"The best."
They were silent.
The wind rose. It brought sea spray, iodine, and the distant cry of seagulls.
Zayn stood.
"I'm going to train."
"Not today."
"Why?"
"Because you need to cry."
Zayn stopped.
"I don't cry."
"Yes, you do. But not in front of me."
Azel stood as well. He held out his hand.
"Go to the beach. Walk. Let the sea look at you."
"And you?"
"I'll wait for you."
Zayn looked at the hand. He didn't take it. But he nodded.
He walked down the hill toward the sea.
Behind him, Azel remained standing, still, hands clasped behind his back.
In the distance, the waves continued.
Always.
---