Inside Claire's subconscious, she awakened.
A dream world—still grey.
A dead meadow stretched endlessly beneath a sky that hung low, as if pressing down on the world.
In the distance, a withered old tree stood like a defiance against the heavens.
Claire walked slowly toward it, but every step felt heavy, as though the earth itself rejected her presence. There was no wind, and the air felt like ash suspended in stillness.
When she reached the tree, she saw something carved into its trunk—her name, "Claire," etched in rough strokes. And just below it:
"What's buried is not always dead."
Then—
Footsteps. Light, careful. Behind her.
She turned—
And there she stood: the younger Claire.
Not the ragged, worn-out girl, but a noble child. Her hair was neatly tied, her dress clean and fine. But something was wrong. Her body was stiff, her expression frozen—and her eyes... hollow, as if they had never known love.
Her face was sweet, yet neatly disguised fear lingered behind it. Her shoulders drooped slightly, and her fingers clutched the hem of her dress as though trying to stop herself from trembling. She stood too straight—like a child trained to appear perfect… but who had never felt safe.
The young Claire looked at her and said in a flat voice,
"Why did you come back here? I thought you forgot about me."
Claire:
"…You… are me?"
The girl nodded.
"The part you threw away. The part you buried... just to survive."
The ground around them cracked. Black shadows burst from the fissures—whispers, taunts, sharp laughter from the past.
"Pathetic."
"You still can't use magic at your age?"
"You're just a burden to your father!"
"You've shamed the name of House Noir!"
"You are a useless child."
The younger Claire remained still. Even as the shadows crept toward her, she didn't move.
She stared at the older Claire with restrained hatred—not for anyone else, but for the Claire standing before her.
"I... hate you," she said softly.
"You're a coward. You ran from me. You abandoned me because I was weak. Because I was afraid. Because I wasn't perfect enough…"
Claire tried to approach, to reach out. But each step felt like pushing through thick, wounded water. The shadows reached for her, tried to drag her down.
The younger Claire whispered:
"The old me... never left. I stayed here... watching you... lie to yourself."
Then—blue light ignited the sky.
Kaiser's voice echoed softly, yet unwavering:
"I'm here with you. You're not alone anymore."
The light wrapped around Claire. She reached out and took her younger self's hand—for the first time, the little girl didn't pull away.
She simply held Claire's hand, gently…
Then faded into shards of light, merging back into her.
The shadows vanished.
The sky turned white.
And the dream world crumbled… peacefully.
---
The faint glow of magical crystals on the ceiling reflected softly off stone walls. The air felt warm… and still.
Claire slowly opened her eyes.
Her breathing was heavy, her body still ached—but in her chest, the silence felt warm.
Something had changed.
Not just because of Kaiser's magic surgery—
But because… she had accepted herself.
---
When she opened her eyes again, her vision was blurred for a moment—
The real world felt unfamiliar, as if she had just returned from the depths of her soul.
Slowly, shapes came into focus.
She was lying on a stone bed covered with soft cloth. Her entire body still throbbed, as if it had been burned from within—but the pain felt different now.
Lighter. No longer suffocating.
Then she saw him.
Me.
A man sitting beside her bed, head bowed, sleeping in an awkward position.
But my hand—still gripped hers tightly, as if I had never let go, even when my body was drained.
My black hair was a mess. My clothes damp with sweat.
Faint burn marks traced my arms and fingers—scars from the rough magic I had used to restore Claire's mana.
She could only look at me.
Someone who had always seemed so cheerful, so firm, so unshakable—
Now asleep in stillness, as if refusing to leave her side for even a moment.
Claire parted her lips, her voice barely a whisper:
"...Master…"
I didn't stir.
She moved her fingers slightly, and that faint touch slowly pulled me awake.
My dark eyes were tired—but when I saw Claire awake, my expression changed.
"Claire…"
My voice was soft, barely above a whisper—but it carried a relief that couldn't be hidden.
Claire looked at me, her eyes brimming.
"I… came back," she whispered.
I nodded. I looked into her deeply, confirming everything—her soul, her body, the flow of mana within her.
"Yes… you're back."
I hadn't let go of her hand.
Claire wanted to speak more, but her voice caught.
There was so much she wanted to say—about the dream, about her old self, about the fear and the wounds she had hidden.
But when she saw her teacher's hand still holding hers, she knew—
For now, she didn't have to say a word.
And for the first time, Claire felt safe.
Moments passed in silence. Only the sound of our breathing remained—calm, yet heavy with lingering pain and unspoken questions.
Claire took a deep breath.
"Master… you stayed… all this time?"
I still gazed at our joined hands. My fingers tightened slightly, then I nodded.
"I couldn't leave… Your mana was too unstable. If I let go, the flow might have broken again."
I pulled the chair closer.
And for the first time—Claire saw the deep weariness in her teacher's eyes. But also… something gentler.
Care.
Claire lowered her gaze.
"I… I'm sorry."
I raised an eyebrow.
"For what?"
"For worrying you… For being a burden to everyone. For being weak…"
I let out a deep breath.
"Claire," I said, my voice deep but calm,
"you're not a burden. And there is nothing weak about someone who chooses to survive."
Claire closed her eyes.
That sentence—simple as it was—broke something that had long been hardened inside her.
She held my hand tightly in return.
"I saw… my old self. In that dream."
Her voice trembled.
"She hated me. But she also… waited for me."
I nodded slowly.
"Most adults bury the child within them. But not all of us have the courage to face them again."
Claire looked at her teacher.
"Have you… ever experienced something like that?"
I went quiet for a moment. My eyes looked far away, toward the ceiling, as if searching for something I couldn't fully put into words.
"…Maybe."
There was a pause. Then Claire spoke again, her voice firmer this time:
"Master… teach me. Not just magic. But… how to survive. How to accept everything."
I gave a small smile—just a little, but enough to warm the air between us.
"I can't teach you everything. But I can walk with you."
Claire nodded.
And for the first time, she truly smiled—not the polite smile, not the awkward noble smile—
But one born from deep within her.
And in that moment, her mana began to glow again.
Like a crystal river finding its way home.
---
"Lie down for now. I'll get your medicine," I said, heading to the next room—the alchemy lab.
In a quiet voice, Claire asked,
"Master… can I put my clothes back on?"
"Later. Your body's still too weak to stand. After you take the medicine and rest, alright?" I replied softly.
"Ugh… Fine…" Claire answered with a sour face.
I went to fetch the medicine and returned shortly after.
"Here. Drink it all. Don't leave a drop."
As Claire took the medicine, her face twisted.
"Hueegh?! It's so bitter!"
"You have to finish it if you want to recover fast. You'll be drinking this three times a day."
"Hee?! Three times? Ugh…" she groaned.
"Stop complaining. Now sleep. Let your body and soul rest."
"Alright."
She lay back down and closed her eyes.
Moments later, Claire had fallen fast asleep.
Kaiser looked at his sleeping student.
"Now that I think about it… She's so much like her, isn't she?
The girl who always stayed by my side… even when I was at my lowest…"
And as that memory surfaced, i saw her face in my mind—
The one girl i failed to protect.
"Evelyn…"
Me too, closed my eyes—my body still exhausted after the massive surgery.