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Black and pink hair sweep up in airy waves as a chilly current flows through a dark chamber, all bare except for a looming coffin sitting in the center and a small girl laying on its side. A gust of wind bursts from the top, where small windows are carved out of stone, and travels down to the bottom of the room, brushing dust off the floor. Gray specks diffuse through the air and find their way towards the girl, coating her fingers that rest lazily upon the coffin.
Columbina sighs. White strips form a lattice mask over her eyes and tie together the silky locks on the side of her face. The feathery headpiece attached to the back of her head and the black faux fur from her winter coat ruffle lightly as she takes in a breath. A soulful tune emerges from her lips, encasing the entire chamber in a somber, yet eerie mood. Her voice is breathy, as if she still hasn’t recovered from the revelation of the Harbinger’s death.
Columbina shifts to let her head rest on top of the Starsilver blue and golden dotted coffin. Once the melody comes to a close, the ends of her lips creep up to form the sliver of a smile.
Her fingertips lightly trace over the stone carvings of the coffin, tapping the edges of the golden star in the center. A stinging giggle escapes from her mouth, cutting sharply against the serenity of the chamber.
“Foolish Rosalyne,” she whispers softly, “you should have listened and stayed back with me in Snezhnaya.”
She pauses. “Well… Dying by the blade of the Electro Archon is certainly one way to go.”
Columbina’s fingers languidly trail back to the several strands of hair near her head and she starts to draw small circles upon the stinging cold rock, mesmerized by its glitter under the moonlight.
“Oh, how I wish I could have seen the look in your ice-blue eyes as you were slain. In your last breath, were you perhaps on your scarred knees, begging the gods for mercy? Or did you attempt to fight against the searing pain snaking through your entire body, shrieking mindless threats as the Musou no Hitotachi’s purple slashes struck upon you?
Columbina’s lips draw up to form a faint smile once again as she imagines the scene playing out in her head.
“Though it is quite amusing you turned out to be the first to die out of us. And I was sure that it would have been the Balladeer. Perhaps I should help Tartaglia with hunting him down? Seeing his blood sprayed on the tips of my knives would be quite lovely. Though I’m not sure if Tartaglia thinks of me fondly…”
“Columbina, what are you doing upon Rosaylne’s coffin?” A sharp voice cuts through her musings.
“Oh!” She giggles, hands moving to cover her mouth in feigned surprise. “Arlecchino, I was simply… paying my respects.”
She turns back to the coffin. As seven more looming figures materialize from the dark, she locks her arms together, takes in another breath, and begins to sing once more. Her voice dances vividly upon the misty atmosphere, worthy of a final goodbye to a dear friend.