Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In another time, a pooka woke up in the land of the dead.

This time, Cornelius woke up to a blade stabbed to the spot next to his head on his pillow, and to a familiar face growling down at him.

“… we need to talk,” his not-assailant said simply, and Cornelius could only nod in agreement lest his brother-in-law decided to smite him again.

“Let me get this straight. Instead of using exact wording like, ‘I wish for the curse to be broken’, you instead used the word ‘undo’?”

Ingway seemed like he didn’t know whether to laugh or to rage about it. He shrieked the last word and what came off next was more like a sneer. He’s more hysterical than Cornelius was, who was awakened by a sharp blade to his pillow.

“Undo the curse! Are you stupid? No, don’t answer that. I know you are.”

It was an accident.

The problem was that by wording it like that, the magic brought them back to the time before Ingway cursed Cornelius instead of just dispelling it. It was probably one of many reasons Ingway was outraged. Not even him, a peer to the Wise Men, was aware that it was possible to turn back time.

“… Ingway, how come you also remember?”

“No idea. Twin connection thing maybe.”

If Cornelius was telling the truth, then Velvet would be with him when he made the wish to the ghost of King Valentine. Perhaps Velvet also remembered, and currently panicking in their forest.

It was really a miracle that Ingway remembered just in time before he cursed Cornelius into a pooka once more.

Ingway made sure Cornelius knew how close he was to redoing history, rambling non-stop about what could have gone wrong and everything that had gone wrong.

Cornelius followed after such Ingway back to the forest.

Surprisingly, Velvet didn’t remember anything.

She was extremely confused as to why her brother suddenly woke her up and announced that he didn’t curse her lover this time.

Said lover stood awkwardly with Ingway’s arm slung around his shoulders as if the two of them were the bestest friends even though Velvet was sure Ingway couldn’t hate Cornelius even more than he already was just that morning.

Ingway stared at his twin, decided that Velvet really knew nothing, then turned to his not-yet-in-law.

“A moment, if you please. Come with me, Cornelius.”

A moment was approximately five minutes in modern time measurement, Cornelius found out. Ingway just folded his arms and closed his eyes as he thought, until he finally seemed to have gotten an idea as to what was happening, snapping his fingers and pointing at Cornelius's face with wide eyes.

“I get it. She’s not cursed yet, that’s why.”

“… what?”

Admittedly, the all too familiar gesture made Cornelius a bit nervous, but he managed to force himself to stay firm and not follow his instinct to go to Velvet's side like a coward.

“She got the pooka curse, I assume, only after reversing the cauldron. You remembered not because you made that wish, you remembered because your cooperation is necessary to prevent her from getting cursed.”

And, maybe, Ingway only remembered because the magic would need him to not go after Cornelius to make sure he’s not cursed again.

“Right… right, right, right…!”

“… Cornelius, Ingway? What's going on?”

The two men turned to their beloved and held her tight.

It was wilder than even Velvet’s most bizarre dream.

The first order of business would be to go to the Netherworld.

Darkova was there, and he was also the one who wrote the epic poem based on the prophecy regarding Armageddon. Coming to him to ascertain their recollection was a must.

Needless to say, Ingway took his Graveryl and went there with Cornelius in tow.

“Princess will surely get mad at us.”

“She’ll thank us later.”

Ingway might be one of the strongest sorcerers alive, and he was mad, but not even he would be mad enough to venture into the Netherworld empty-handed. With psypher-less Cornelius in tow, he was even more reluctant.

Truthfully, his preparation doesn’t necessarily include having Graveryl as his choice of weapon. He’d gone to Netherworld without it before. Still, depriving Velvet of her main weapon lest she charged into Ringford to retrieve Titrel was a priority. Even Velvet would hesitate to go anywhere without her trusted weapon.

Ingway swore he was not going to let go of the chain ever again.

“… Ingway, if I may ask.”

“What?”                                                    

“What exactly do you remember last?”

People imagined that life would end with death and that the dead couldn’t interfere with the living. Yet, Cornelius knew full well that life continued on in the Netherworld, and some ghosts there were still plotting Armageddon and some actually managed to return to the living world.

It surprised Cornelius not that Ingway seemed to remember Netherworld like he’d roamed the land for years, knowing the ways almost as certain as he knew the paths in the forest or the veins on his hands, but it did get him thinking.

Silence.

It wasn’t him asking Velvet to do her duties, it seemed.

“… a flower.”

“Pardon?”

“A small flower was blooming in the Netherworld. That’s what I remember last.”

King Gallon had seemed to be more than happy to give Cornelius his sword again.

He was content to stay where he was and not cause Armageddon and returning the psypher to Titanian royalty in preparation for the future was something he deemed necessary.

“I was meant to be the new Darkova.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah. This guy stopped me. Shit decision on my part. Not planning for a repeat performance.”

The beast laughed as if he could understand, and Ingway and Cornelius left before the Halja arrived.

On their way back, they stumbled upon a crowned soul carrying a giant candle. Ingway killed the spirit without giving him a chance to even speak.

Cornelius yelled in outrage, remembering vaguely of being helped by said spirit once upon a time but not much else, but Ingway just laughed quite maniacally.

“I would also prefer for him to be tormented forevermore in this forsaken land, but alas, that was my loathsome grandfather, controller of Cauldron and the one who would release Leventhan upon us. I would recognize that crown anywhere.”

The crown glowed eerily, and even Cornelius could tell that it was similar to the coins he’d gathered in his previous life. It contained magic, and he knew that Ingway knew it.

“Cornelius, you’d thank me later.”

It was only then that Cornelius remembered the darkness within his brother-in-law.

Humans couldn’t be expected to remember thousands of years’ worth of memory, and recollection was difficult for Cornelius who ended up relatively happy in his eternity with Velvet.

The happiness had dulled his memory of the time before.

They were resting, and there was a merchant ghost playing with Valentinian coins, and Cornelius suddenly remembered the Pookas, terrified from the prospect of their King returning. He remembered being outraged seeing the spirit Ingway had slain with a newly hatched dragon in the lava pit, and he fell to his knees as a headache assaulted his skull.

“… Ing… way…”

The Valentinian sighed quite loudly but deigned Cornelius with a healing spell. Admittedly, despite the lack of bodily harm, his mind cleared thanks to that.

“Thank you…”

Not for the healing spell. Not even for not cursing him this time. Ingway seemed to understand.

“Hel, it’s sooner than I thought,” he sneered.

Cornelius shuddered when he imagined what could happen if only the spirit was able to sneak past Queen Odette once more.

“He must never realize what he is truly capable of. If he realized he could turn back time, then… it would be beyond our control.”

“It is tempting, I must admit. Odin’s destruction would be more than certain. But, I’m not keen on having my mother and sister relive their nightmares, even if they wouldn’t remember it… even if it means undoing my sin and better the lives of all cursed Valentinian.”

Such reasoning, and it’s unbelievable that such thought appeared in the instant Ingway spotted the King's spirit. Even if Odette was no longer there to torture the souls, Ingway would always find a way to punish himself, Velvet had said.

He must have mulled everything over, thinking of what-ifs and if-onlys. The terrible things in his life over and over again, wishing for revenge and yet unable to exact it. His hatred was for the dead and knowing that their souls had been vanquished before his own demise.

Thousands of years, all that frustration and nothing could be done to it.

The cruellest kind of torture.

“I can only imagine all the self-loathing you must have endured to remember so clearly what happened during our previous life. It has been so long, hundreds of lifetimes ago. How torturous it must have been.”

And yet, Ingway just shrugged as if it was nothing.

“It wasn’t that bad. I was asleep most of the time anyway.”

It couldn’t be true, and yet Cornelius couldn’t help barking out in laughter. He reflectively covered his mouth, couldn’t believe what just came out of him. Ingway smiled at him, positively amused to see the less than refined side of his brother-in-law.

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t lying.”

“Asleep by the blooming flower?”

“Now I understand why people like to put flowers in a vase.”

Chapter Text

Ingway’s mind was extreme as always.

His priority after their return was apparently to kill the three Wise Men. Cornelius tried to talk him out of it, but it was no use.

He was especially grudgeful towards Beldor, and who could blame him? Ingway turned himself into Darkova and he blamed no one for it, but his hatred for being controlled like a puppet and made to destroy the land he loved again was not that easy to quell.

Infiltrating Ringford’s court became his priority.

Though the prospect of being with Mercedes again was tempting, Ingway really meant to sneak into the palace to find that blasted sorcerer Beldor.

In their previous life, Ingway had wanted nothing more than to destroy Odin. Even so, what had transpired in Armageddon had caused his hatred for Beldor and the other Wise Men to grow to rival even his grudge for Odin.

Of course, Cornelius knew nothing about the guilty pleasure Ingway was trying to satisfy by aiming for Ringford. He also wasn't entirely against it. It's just that though he agreed that Beldor had to be stopped, poor Belial didn’t deserve his torment, Urzur deserved to be burned at a stake, and Skuldi was surely bad by association, Cornelius still thought that Ingway needed more plan than just to go to Ringford and literally stab Beldor in the back.

Maybe a distraction. Killing the Wise Men and Odin were understandable desires from Ingway, but surely he would rethink his action since avoiding Armageddon had to be prioritized.

“Ingway…”

“What?”

“About the Armageddon-”

“It’s avoidable. As long as no one turns into Darkova, we’re going to be fine. We’ve killed King Valentine too, so no Leventhan, and no one is likely to mess with the Cauldron. No one, except for the Wise Men, who I really should kill as soon as possible.”

“How about the Vulcans attacking?”

“I’ll find that elusive World Tree and smack Onyx with its branch if necessary, but he is more likely to stay in the fiery pit where he belongs.”

Then he winced, hand unconsciously went up to his temple.

It wasn’t as terrible as Cornelius, but even Ingway had difficulty remembering some parts. He’s not sure what triggered the recollection, maybe the talk about Armageddon, but his blood boiled as more and more came back to him.

That damned sorcerer had directed him to Ringford of all places.

Ingway knew that most of the fairies had died burned by the flame of Onyx, but he also remembered killing them, Mercedes’s beloved people, with his own jaws and claws. His sole solace was that he didn’t remember encountering his beloved Queen during all of it, but still, it was like Valentine all over again.

“… back then, I remember… them attacking Ringford. The World Tree had to be somewhere in Ringford. Haha! Listen to that, Cornelius? More reason for me to go to Ringford and kill that slimy bastard.”

“I know of the tree. It only appeared after Armageddon.”

“Too bad, but not a problem. Then, he shall be stopped even if we do nothing.”

“I wonder if it really will go like that…”

“Alternatively, I can always sell my soul and gain the power of the dead. The Shadow Knight is unbeatable due to that power, is he not? Surely the Queen would be generous enough to bless one more person. Since we’re in her domain, should we come to visit her at once?”

“Ingway!”

Ingway had, obviously, been more than serious.

He’d cursed so many people and had been cursed himself so many times that he could no longer care about what happened to him. So long as his precious people lived on, he thought he would even be willing to lose his mind and body or be tortured forevermore in the Netherworld.

Cornelius grabbed Ingway’s arm.

“Thousands of years in the Netherworld is enough, brother. Dispel the thought, I can’t bear to see Princess Velvet mourn your fate again.”

“Who are you calling brother?”

“Please.”

Ingway scowled, clicking his tongue in obvious distaste.

“I get it. So let go of me.”

Cornelius reluctantly did.

“Then? What are you suggesting?”

No answer could come, but Cornelius knew of one who might have an idea.

It amazed Cornelius that Ingway could stand being on the mountain barely wearing a top, while he was freezing almost to death. It’s at times like that that Cornelius wished he had fur.

He wouldn’t say it though. Ingway would never let him live it down.

Thankfully, Ingway was kind enough to provide him with potions.

“… Hindel, huh? Never met him. I heard he died, killed by the Shadow Knight.”

“That very Shadow Knight defeated King Gallon in his march to Titania as the Lord of Darkness. I heard from him that Hindel told him that his father’s name was Edgar, who turned out to be my uncle.”

“So, you’re cousins.”

“He was more surprised to hear that than I was.”

“I imagine so. You must have been a pooka at the time.”

“It’s not as if he didn’t know pookas. He was more surprised to find that one who shares his blood survived after Armageddon.”

“Hmm…”

Oswald also told him of how he’d slain Hindel and Wagner. Both at the order of selfish men greedy for power that wasn’t theirs. Cornelius himself had slain Belial and remembering him being thankful for it always gave him heartache.

“Ingway. I shall stop him. The dragons are necessary to prevent Armageddon from happening.”

“Sure. If we came in time, I’ll help.”

That’s surprising.

“… you will?”

“What’s with that look? I’m all for keeping the dragons alive. Maybe they’d somehow lay another egg and Leventhan ceases to be the last dragon.”

Ingway said it with a shrug, but somehow Cornelius felt as if he wasn’t telling the whole truth. He knew Ingway knew that the three dragons were male, and another dragon egg would be nothing less than a miracle.

“Have you met any of the dragons before?”

“I have,” Ingway confirmed with a nod.

“Belial is under Beldor’s control. What about Wagner?”

“I was there when he rampaged in Ringford, searching for your dragon-slayer cousin.”

Ringford.

Why would Ingway be in Ringford?

There’s absolutely nothing that could have interested Ingway in Ringford. Obviously, since he wished for Odin’s death, he would be on Vanir’s side. Even so, Cornelius never heard Ingway aiding the fairies other than him giving Queen Elfaria the ring of Titrel soon after the cataclysm.

The ring had moved from hand to hand, and not once did he remember Ingway fighting for it. He was too busy trying to get the Titanian Book of Transformation.

There’s Beldor, who Ingway now hated with a passion, but he only cursed Ingway in the Armageddon. Besides, after the civil war in Ringford, Beldor hadn’t been in Ringford.

Cornelius mentioned that, and instead of answering, Ingway only warned him that he still needed that book.

“I’m not turning into Darkova again, but you should really burn that book just in case.”

Somehow though, Cornelius felt as if Ingway was diverting his attention.

“By the way, as I’ve mentioned, Urzur wants you dead. So, give me your best ‘me’ impression.”

“… what?”

“After this, you need to pretend you’re me pretending to be you trying to get the Book from your senile father after having sent you personally to Netherworld.”

“What?”

“It’s either that, or you’ll have to go into hiding for a while. Your choice.”

The dragon stirred as Ingway and Cornelius walked closer. Glassy eyes stared at them in wonder, and Cornelius felt as if they could see through into his very soul.

“… old souls. You both have lived for millenniums, almost as long as I have, while enduring curses and darkness. Devourer of land and the Lord’s line, side by side working together. I did not foresee this.”

“This idiot accidentally turned back time, and I have no intention of letting Armageddon pass once more.”

“Time is a fickle thing, and no amount of magic should be able to defy it. Or so I thought.”

Hindel stared at the bag slung on Ingway’s shoulder, where he’d kept King Valentine’s crown. He must have sensed the very magic quite literally in Ingway’s hold.

“Ingway, is it? Prince of fallen kingdom Valentine.”

“My mother spoke of you.”

“I gave her my blood, just as my friend gave his to Odin. What she spoke of was all that I can see.”

“Her prediction had passed. I’ve died, and Velvet had spent years being cursed. I’m here to know if the same thing will happen again, and how to avoid it. At least her fate, she doesn’t deserve another millennium of pain.”

Hindel glanced up; glassy eyes half-closed.

“I have seen myself dying soon, and yet the vision is now clouded. What have you done?”

“O wise dragon, Hindel. I am kin to the one tasked to claim your head. I am here to make sure it won’t come to pass.”

“A dragon slayer, and yet you wish not to reclaim your past glory?”

Ingway turned to him with a raised eyebrow. Cornelius didn’t think Ingway would forget that he’d killed Belial, especially when it was Ingway himself who’d sent him to save Velvet. Then again, it had been millenniums ago.

“There is no glory in spilling the blood of innocent.”

“If my death does not come to pass, then your kin will lose everything.”

“Ha, as if a mere tool can claim possession of anything.”

“Ingway!”

“Don’t yell at me, Cornelius. That’s what he called himself in Ringford’s court. A mere sword to be swung at whomever his dear father pointed.”

He didn’t think he remembered Oswald mentioning that he’d met Ingway in the past, but Cornelius remembered being told of something similar.

Ignoring their spat, Hindel continued on.

“The future is changing. I can no longer see the dead marching on Titania streets, or Leventhan flying over the continent. And yet… fire still floods the land.”

“Armageddon still will happen then?”

“My death was to be nutrient for the small seedling of World Tree. Only after my death can those who damage her roots reveal themselves.”

Something seemed to have clicked in Ingway’s mind.

“Her roots were to keep the land afloat. If it wasn’t for my death, not even that possibility will be allowed. I resigned my fate for the sake of the world’s rebirth. Not only the Shadow Knight, but the world shall also lose the chance to live past Armageddon."

“… it can’t be…”

“The World Tree is currently but a seedling? But I saw it proud and tall after Armageddon.”

“Cradled by winter’s embrace, her growth is slow. And yet, she is full of vigor and spirit, excited for her time to bloom. The world’s ash shall nourish her, and in the end, her roots shall reach even the Netherworld, as she searches for her betrayer.”

“Hindel…! Tell me! Is there another way to stop the Vulcans?!”

Ingway’s sudden desperation surprised even Cornelius.

“The future has been completely covered with fog. What I told you was what had happened before. There is no telling what will happen now. As you said, the prophecy has passed. My death or not, you will not see her again. No matter how hard you try, she will be nothing more than a mirage.”

Ingway all but sobbed hearing that. He staggered, clutching his chest and head in agony.

“… she? Ingway, you know what the World Tree is?”

“Cornelius, I thank you. I wouldn’t know this piece of information if you hadn’t suggested going to the dragons. There is still time, but you were right. Beating Vulcan has indeed become a priority.”

“Ingway?”

“The World Tree… the description is familiar. She’s a fairy. The World Tree would only come to be after she returns her body to the earth and her name to heaven.”

Cornelius was familiar with the concept. 

"You know who she is."

Ingway laughed, even more hysterical than when he awoke a few days before. He didn't deny it.

Chapter Text

Ingway had betrayed many Kings.

First, he betrayed his grandfather by making Cauldron go on a rampage for Odin, cursing and destroying everything he held dear.

Second, he betrayed Odin by handing over Titrel to the faeries.

Third, he betrayed his Queen.

He’d betrayed her by giving her an empty promise.

They ended up never meeting again.

And that was alright.

Ingway knew that he didn’t deserve her. Faeries were heavenly beings, pure and holy, unlike him who was drenched in blood and curses. He only realized he wanted to be with her in his dying breath, and not even then did he regret anything.

Not even his affection for Mercedes could stop him from walking down the path of revenge and destruction.

His ending up in Netherworld was something he expected.

He’d known how it should go. He’d seen how King Gallon was chained down and tortured by Halja. Instead, whenever his mind was clear enough for him to recognize what was happening to him, he could only feel the comfort he didn’t deserve.

He wasn’t chained. Roots were cradling him. Their hold was firm, but they didn’t dig into his bones. There was a faint smell of daisies.

It hurt. It hurt more than he ever imagined.

He couldn’t help remembering her.

He didn’t regret anything, but he missed her terribly.

And, as if he was a prisoner under torture, he started talking.

Confessing.

Wishing.

Everything and anything.

If onlys.

What ifs.

If only he didn’t do this. If only he did that.

What if that didn’t happen?

Begging for forgiveness for something that wasn’t even related to her. Regret only came to him like this. A thousand scenarios came to him, and he told them all to her, whose presence he could feel through the roots.

Thousands of years passed like that.

Remembering, regretting, confessing, cursing, wishing…

When everything had come out of him, the roots moved and let him down, and he noticed a small daisy blooming on one of the roots.

“Don’t forget. You promised, alright?”

“… I don't exactly remember making any promises.”

“You did! You really did! You said we'd meet again.”

“Did I?”

“Fulfil your promise, then ask for forgiveness for being so late! Alright, Ingway?”

He didn’t dare to imagine what happened at Armageddon. He didn’t think she would survive, though he did think that in death his Queen would certainly be prouder and nobler than he remembered her. Even so, her being the World Tree was beyond imagination.

Her roots reached even the Netherworld.

Just for him.

His love, his torment, his heart---

Idiot. What an idiot.

Sad to say, Ingway never planned on fulfilling that promise. Not back then, not now.

God, specially not now.

After he could stop Armageddon from happening, he thought of living without ever meeting her again. Perhaps he’d hide in the shadows and watch over her, but he didn’t think he should approach her.

He’d watch her, mourn, and be comforted with the fact that she gets to grow not in a pool of blood this time.

Apologize? That’s impossible, Queen.

The one he should apologize to would never come to be, and he preferred for it to be that way.

“… how surprising. Not even Velvet knows about it. To think you’d have someone you care about, and a fairy no less. They’re not exactly fond of humans.”

“That’s because I haven’t met that naïve child at this point. I don’t plan to.”

“I honestly think you bonded with her through mutual hatred of humans. She must have adored you.”

“Didn’t you hear the dragon, Cornelius? I betrayed her.”

Ingway had no intention of saying how he did. Only he and the dragon would know, and he didn’t mind even if Cornelius imagined the worst out of him, deeds worthy of someone who had spent millenniums in the Netherworld.

He let out a loud sigh as he tried to compose himself. Obviously, it’s not the time to freak out over the realization that a part of Mercedes was always with him even in the Netherworld.

“Hindel. If you say the only way to beat the Vulcans is to let a young girl live out her fate to die, then I’ll ruin that fate of hers. I owe her almost as much as I owe my sister, you see? The World Tree will not take root in the Armageddon.”

“If the World Tree doesn’t take root, Erion will break apart with nothing to hold it together.”

“She will only take root after she’s old and wrinkly and has lived out her purpose of driving frogs to extinction.”

There are so many that Cornelius wanted to comment on, including the fact that to his knowledge, fairies don’t age the same way humans do, but he kept his mouth shut. He felt like Ingway would just stab him If he commented on that and on the fact that he really wanted to know how Ingway could be interested in a fairy who claimed to be born to exterminate the frogs.

“I told your sister that it is her duty to struggle and deny her fate. Your conviction is something else.”

“I’ve seen what will happen. Velvet might be able to accept that kind of ending, but I will not. Who can accept that the world’s rebirth depends on their precious people dying or being cursed?!”

And yet, Ingway didn’t seem to understand it was as hard for Velvet knowing that Ingway was fated to be cursed and that death was a release for him.

“Hindel, if you say that the future is now uncertain, tell me all that I didn’t witness. In exchange, I will show you the scene beyond the fog. I’ll prove to you that fate is avoidable.”

“…”

“Tell me. I beg you.”

What convinced Hindel was, ultimately, Cornelius and Ingway’s success in preventing his death.

Oswald the Shadow Knight came to Hindel as fated. Instead of finding a dragon already resigned to his fate to die, he found two unknown psypher users determined to stop him.

Ingway was especially in a bad mood due to his pleading with Hindel being disturbed. Graveryl slithered like snakes and shot out to where Oswald was in lieu of a greeting. Of course, Oswald himself didn’t announce his arrival like the chivalrous knights Cornelius looked up to in Titanian court.

For a knight, he was more like an assassin. The living Halja. No wonder Queen Odette loved him so.

Cornelius unsheathed his psypher sword, and screw chivalry, he immediately closed the distance and struck to where he expected Oswald would move to evade Graveryl. Of course, he managed to parry him, but not even Oswald could immediately disarm a swordsman with thousands of years of experience.

Granted, those thousands of years were spent as a pooka, and Cornelius’s body still couldn’t quite match his mind’s expectations. If only he hadn’t gone to Netherworld and tried out his blade against the hungry and violent ghosts, it could have gone worse.

Nevertheless, Cornelius wasn’t alone.

He’d heard of psypher wielders fighting one another. But, he’d never heard of a psypher wielder being outnumbered by fellow psypher wielders. Psyphers are rare as it was, the mere possibility was close to none.

He could hear Ingway reciting spells, and he gritted his teeth in frustration as the memory of fighting him in Velvet’s form returned to him. That had been the hardest fight he’d fought, but at the same time, that hadn’t been Ingway’s true power.

He was a sorcerer; a skillful one at that.

He managed to beat the Wise Men even without a psypher.

Cyclones came into being, and Oswald was stopped in his tracks. Not even the Shadow Knight could fight the force of nature.

“We’re having a conversation. Do kindly piss off,” the sorcerer said once the wind settled down. Fireballs appeared on his fingertips, and he shot them in succession at Oswald. Of course, Oswald evaded them all.

True to his epitaph, he turned to shadow.

Cornelius was unfamiliar with his speed, and he could barely follow him with his eyes. Black and red flashed by, and Cornelius realized that Oswald had decided that it was Ingway who stood between him and his target, and he lunged.

He probably thought he’d be faster than Ingway could cast or Graveryl could ensnare him, and Cornelius knew that his attempt to run after him was futile.

But, Belderiver never reached Ingway.

The blade stopped mere inches from Ingway’s face.

Except, that wasn’t him.

Standing in Ingway’s place was a fairy, a rare sight in Horn Mountain. The fairy wore Ingway’s cocky smile, but the hair color was wrong, and it was now reaching his back. Ingway’s cape and turban had been replaced by a green jacket with a pair of grasshopper wings protruding on his back.

That one second was enough, and Cornelius managed to hit Oswald on the back of his head while he still hadn’t recovered. The same time as Graveryl hitting his unprotected side. He fell to the icy ground, groaning, and Ingway laughed.

“At this point in time, this person is your weakness, isn’t it?”

Oswald snarled, but he couldn’t bring himself to cut Ingway in his new form.

“I’m not sure which I hate more, magic or that tendency of yours to morph into your enemies’ beloved as you murder them gleefully.”

“Hey, you’re the one who hit him in the head. And he's still alive.”

“You hit him too, didn’t you? ”

A wave of his hand later, and Oswald lost consciousness.

“How did you even know?”

“I told you. I’ve been to Ringford,” was said as light danced around his form. A blink later, Ingway was already back to his original form.

A light kick to Oswald’s shoulder was enough to give Cornelius an idea of how enraged he was with the encounter. Rather, Cornelius was glad Ingway didn’t choose to stab Oswald for good measure, since he didn’t think it’d be beyond him.

“… he will return,” Hindel rumbling voice said. A certainty. It’s impossible to appeal to Oswald in this point in time.

And yet, the dragon’s words were full of wonder.

Chapter Text

Hindel decided to give Ingway his blood.

He found the feeling of not knowing strangely exhilarating, and since it would take an eternity to tell everything that Hindel knew about what was fated to be, he decided to just give Ingway the ability of precognition.

But, that wasn’t exactly true.

As Hindel had said before, the future can no longer be seen. Ingway would only be able to see what was fated to be if he tried to glimpse into the future.

For anyone else in Erion, it would seem as if Ingway had gained precognition. For Ingway and Cornelius though, the vision would only show the things that had happened in their previous life.

The intended future was their past, and they’re striving to move forward to a new beginning.

The problem was that after millenniums, their memories of what happened in this time period weren’t intact nor perfect. Cornelius was even more so forgetful. No matter how cunning Ingway was, it’d be difficult to make plans to prevent Armageddon when he couldn’t even remember what was happening.

Cornelius would probably be able to sort through his memory better if he also drank Hindel’s blood, but the dragon stopped him.

For what reason?

Apparently, a dragon’s blood isn’t always compatible with the human body. Rather than the blood itself, it’s the power that came with them. Not anyone can withstand it. But it wasn’t because both Ingway’s birth parents had proven themselves capable of accepting dragon’s blood that Hindel chose him. Lineage had little to do with that.

A certain conviction was necessary, and Hindel deemed Ingway to have it stronger than Cornelius was.

Yes, thinking back, Cornelius had always been going with the flow.

He only dealt with the problem he was facing. It’s not always a bad thing, honestly. It’s better for a monarch to be calm and focus on improving their territory rather than always declaring war on other nations.

On the other hand, Ingway was all for revenge.

He should be the leader of the cursed Valentinians, but his priority was always to kill Odin instead of breaking the pooka curse.

From a point of view, it’d make him a villain.

Another would say he’s proactive, despite choosing the wrong thing as his priority.

Hindel proclaimed that he’d never met anyone so insistent on changing the future and showed the very proof right in front of him. His stubbornness also made it less likely for him to be crushed under the weight of destiny as Hindel did.

To be fair, it was Cornelius who suggested preventing the dragons’ deaths and he also helped in subduing Oswald. Still, it was Ingway who had pulled him first to the Netherworld to prevent more than just the appearance of Darkova.

They returned the Knight to the fairy soldiers, declaring to visit their palace to have a talk about this incident with their superiors, then returned to the pooka village. No matter what, Cornelius was a prince, and he had his own duties in Titania. They parted and agreed to reunite in three days’ time. Ingway needed a bit of time to get used to his new power anyway.

His head throbbed painfully, and he didn’t know if it was the blood or frustration that caused it.

It became a necessity to go to Ringford.

Oswald would definitely go back to kill Hindel again, and the only possible way to stop him was to convince his handler. Though Hindel said Wagner would come to him soon, not he nor Cornelius thought it’d be enough since Oswald managed to kill even Wagner in the past. Ingway remembered enough to know that Melvin wasn’t likely to listen to him, so trying to talk to him would more likely be useless.

There’s no other way. He had to talk to Queen Elfaria.

Hindel’s death would just cause Wagner to run amok. Ringford being burned to ashes while she’s away in battle would not be something she wanted. At least there’s another bargaining chip in Ingway’s hand other than the ring Titrel that he’d given her years ago.  

Unlike his initial plan to just sneak in and kill Beldor, he’d have to actually show himself and talk to the fairy nobles. Maybe he even would have to officially align himself with the fairies and fight with them openly on the frontline.

He might have to meet Mercedes.

“… I never planned to involve you this time, you know?”

He could imagine his Queen giggling childishly at this predicament of his.

That night, Ingway dreamed of a lone flower blooming in the Netherworld.

Ingway was quite rudely awakened in the morning by his sister shaking him. He figured his expression must have been similar to what Cornelius showed him when he woke him up with a stab to the pillow.

“Ingway!”

“Hm? Good morning, Velvet. Did you do something stupid in my absence?”

Obviously not appreciating his cheekiness, Velvet slapped him.

“…”

“… explain. Where have you been?”

His ears rung. It’s a bit too familiar to his liking. For a moment, he wondered if Velvet had somehow come to also remember the future. Her question made it even more likely. She had never been like this in the past.

Even so, despite not being able to see the future, Ingway seemed to be able to see what had happened.

After Ingway and Cornelius left for the Netherworld, she went to ask their teacher Kroiz about Hindel’s words. At that time, Skuldi was with them and provoked her into coming to the Netherworld to meet King Gallon, who had written the prophecy.

She was fated to go to the Netherworld. Ingway knew she normally would. Even so, her not having Graveryl with her made her reluctant. Realizing that it must have been him who took Graveryl, she was forced to wait for Ingway to come home.

Only to hear from someone that Ingway returned with Cornelius of all people, and another pooka claiming that he saw them talking with the fairies on the battlefield.

She still couldn’t completely trust Ingway to have let go of his dislike of Cornelius, so knowing them going somewhere behind her back must have been a surprise. The idea that her lover Cornelius, a prince of a supposedly neutral nation, getting dragged into the war by her brother must have been terrifying.

Ingway didn’t blame her for the overreaction. He himself knew of his track record.

“Oh, you know. Here and there.”

“Where!?”

“Hel, for one,” was said with a grin. Velvet slapped him again, but he just laughed.

“You took Graveryl with you… Those eyes…! Ingway, what happened to your eyes?! They’re…”

Ingway’s purple irises had turned into cloudy gray. Once upon a time, it was said that Wagner’s blood also transformed Odin’s body into his current gigantic form. Even so, Hindel’s power lay not in his strength, but in knowledge.

Ingway hadn’t noticed anything else that was different other than that change in eye color. He didn’t have scales, nor did he suddenly grow two feet overnight. Which was good, actually. Ingway would prefer to not attract attention, or worse, become even the slightest bit seemingly resembling Odin.

“Like Mother’s, aren’t they? I became a Seer of sorts.”

“What did you do?!”

Sharp nails dug into his shoulders, but they were barely painful. Harmless. They’re not like Ingway’s own, which could turn into claws that destroyed everything. It’s a comfort, really, that even in her maddest, Velvet was incapable of harming anyone.

In lieu of answering, Ingway apologized instead.

“… you were right. I’m sorry.”

“What…”

“About Mother. She didn’t curse us.”

“You… you decided to be a Seer to prove me wrong?!”

“I didn’t. It just happened.”

“Ingway…”

“Hey, don’t put on that face, I’m fine! And I wasn’t alone, I had Cornelius with me, didn’t I?”

“That too! What happened?! Ingway, I swear, if you did something to him--”

“I swear, I haven’t harmed even one strand of his hair. I didn’t curse him or manipulate him or anything.”

“Then why was he with you?! Why were you talking with the fairies? What is going on?”

“Velvet… What if I were to tell you that I know the future?”

“You have somehow become a Seer.”

“No, to be exact, I came to know bits and pieces about the future. But they’re too fragmented and incomplete. Cornelius suggested going to the dragon Hindel for a solution.”

“Hindel…”

“I managed to convince him, and he gave me his blood.”

“… I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

“It’s true. It’s just not the whole truth. You’ll get mad.”

“Try me.”

He licked his lips.

‘I was too focused on revenge against Odin that I ended up being one harbinger of Armageddon, but your lover whom I had cursed into a pooka stopped and mercy-killed me. He got to live for thousands of years with you who also ended up as a pooka before accidentally turning back time in his attempt to break your curse. Now we’re working together to prevent Armageddon for your sake.’

Of course, Ingway didn’t think he should say all that.

If Velvet hears about how the Cauldron could be reversed to return phozons into the land, then she would undoubtedly run to the battlefield and do it herself right that instant. With the fairies and Aesir both on full alert on the battlefield, that would just be tempting her to repeat her past mistakes.

Stealing the ring from the fairies. Getting caught by the Aesir, then the Wise Men.

Previously, he was too focused on revenge that he even chose to let another save her from her predicament. Ingway however, didn’t want to repeat that mistake of his.

It’s not that he couldn’t entrust her to Cornelius. Ingway himself knew that. It’s just selfishness of his, born out of one of his regrets that only sprouted during his time in the Netherworld.

His sister. The only family he had left. The only one he didn’t completely break in cataclysm.

She reluctantly climbed to his bed and lay on the spot Ingway tapped in invitation. Her hand went to his, and they entwined their fingers. It’s been a while since they last lay side by side like this, even discounting the thousands of years memory Ingway alone had spent in the Netherworld.

“My idea had been to go see King Gallon in the Netherworld. That’s why Cornelius tagged along.” 

“You literally went to Hel…”

“Yeah. So, don’t go there, alright? I already have. Also, don’t listen to the Wise Men. They’re slimy gramps who deserve a thousand deaths each.”

“You are always with them.”

“I’ve never liked them. They just have something I need. After seeing the future, I’ve come to loathe them.”

“Then, you suddenly getting close with Cornelius…?”

“Yeah. I saw about him too. He took great care of you. I still hate him, but he’s tolerable. And he gives good advice. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to break up with him again. I also promise I won’t curse him or kill him or anything.”

“…”

Ingway could feel Velvet’s eyes on him, giving him a prickling feeling on his skin. But her warmth was as comforting as always.

“It’s as you thought, Velvet. Cornelius and I will be doing things together from now on. Cornelius and I don’t see eye to eye on many things, but we both agree that we want to protect you. I know you won’t like that, but… Can I ask you to hold off talking me out of it? I’m still tired having just returned from Winterhorn Ridge.”

“Ingway—”

“Really the worst time. I’ll also answer some of your questions later, but can I have some more sleep? Please?”

Velvet didn’t answer. But, she didn’t let go of their entwined hands either. That was answer enough, Ingway thought as he returned back to sleep.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, Cornelius was having trouble.

Since Ingway was supposed to have cursed him into a pooka, the story they agreed on was that Ingway had decided to personally send Cornelius to the Netherworld. Hence their absence for the past few days.

Hence, the one coming back was Ingway shapeshifting into Cornelius.

Pretending to be Ingway pretending to be him proved to be harder than he thought. It’s because he and Ingway were not that close to begin with, and Cornelius had no other idea on how Ingway would act around the Wise Men other than with scorn since he knew that Ingway now hated them with passion.

Rather than acting in front of his father, it’s harder to act in front of Urzur.

So he just tried out how he thought Ingway would act when he wanted anyone to off his back.

Ignore him. Curse him. If Cornelius had any magic, he would shoot him with fireballs. Since he couldn’t, he figured it wouldn’t be beyond Ingway to tell the vile sorcerer to shut up with a threat to shove a blade down his windpipe.

Cornelius felt the same towards his court sorcerer, actually. He was also thankful that Ingway was blunt and violent most of the time, so he had an excuse to screw pleasantries when talking with Urzur. Still, even then he wasn’t sure he was acting properly.

That being said, Ingway was really a slave driver.

Acting or not, convincing Edmund was also as hard as he imagined it’d be. Ingway did say that he managed to get it over the course of a few days, but it’s not a guarantee that his real son Cornelius would be able to coax it from the king faster.

And Ingway asked him to do it in one day? He’s mad.

Cornelius couldn’t help grumbling about the impossibility of a monarch relinquishing something so important, even to their rebellious child. To make matters worse, Cornelius had forgotten about most of his duties and his father’s counsels. Edmund was being kind calling him rebellious, though sadly he’s blaming Cornelius’s sudden incompetence on Velvet instead of disorientation because truly, he couldn’t recall anything about this time period other than ‘Ingway cursed him’ and ‘Armageddon happened’.

He wondered how Ingway was with his father, but then he remembered that he and Velvet didn’t have one.

They both didn’t consider Odin their father.

Velvet might end up having a soft spot for her half-sibling Gwendolyn, but that’s because she ended up sacrificing everything to save her. There’s little to do with Odin. If a random Valkyrie was the one who saved her, she’d love her all the same.

Ingway might have a glorified view of other people’s relationships with their parents.

Since both Gwendolyn and Velvet didn’t have a good impression of Odin, and Oswald was merely used by the person he considered his father, Cornelius thought that Ingway might have gotten that absurd expectation from the fairy that would become the World Tree.

Perhaps he’d seen her parents spoiling her and thought not even a national secret would be beyond parental love.

“… that would make the list short. The fairy is one of the nobles, surely.”

Ingway refused to call her by name, obviously preferring to keep her uninvolved, but it wouldn’t take long for Cornelius to find her. She would be in Ringford after all.

He couldn’t help chuckling.

He wondered what the odds were of that girl being the crown princess of the fairies.

As much as Ingway wanted to see the continuance of his dream about Mercedes, he ended up seeing Cornelius instead. It must be because Velvet made him think of him before they went to bed.

It’s too vivid to be a dream. Thus, despite his new ability not having a manual, he realized immediately that it was probably a vision. Ingway cursed under his breath.

“He wanted it to go away, that idiot. I had a hard time because I asked to use it. It’s not as if I’m asking him to bring that Book to me.”

Thankfully for Cornelius, even though Ingway could see him even from afar, he couldn’t exactly read into his mind. Unfortunately, someone like Ingway could easily see through him.

That face as he looked through his list of important fairies was so telling.

Next to him, his sister blinked awake. They both had always been light sleepers.

“… what’s wrong?”

Ingway sighed into his hand. He didn’t bother even hiding his ire from his sister. He never bothered in the past, and he wouldn’t start now. He knew that would instead make Velvet wary.

‘I think your lover already has some idea as to who owns my heart, and I’m wondering if I can make him forget about that with a head wound,’ was not what Ingway said, however.

“Cornelius is having trouble in Titania. He might come here later than promised.”

“Hmm…”

Looking out the window, the sun was already well on its way to set. He hadn’t eaten since last night, he remembered. He rose from the bed and stretched lightly as he wondered what he should get from the restaurant.

He could feel Velvet’s eyes on him.

“If you’re wondering, I saw myself stealing the Titanian Book of Transformation to kill Odin. It ended horribly, so I asked Cornelius to make sure no one gets that book.”

“By bringing it to you?”

“I told him to burn it. You can go over to Titania and see it yourself if you want. As long as you don’t go to the sewers.”

Velvet sat up with a sigh, then fixed her hair. Having put on his turban and mantle, Ingway leaned on the wall, waiting for her. He did promise.

Velvet glared at him all the while, and Ingway couldn’t help the scoff he let out.

“Hey, don’t blame me if you’re starting to doubt Cornelius.”

“Then stop reading my mind.”

“You are my twin. I don’t need to be a Seer to know what you are thinking.”

“Meanwhile, I can never know what you’re thinking.”

“That’s a surprise. I thought I’ve always been obvious.”

Silence. Their eyes met, and Ingway raised an eyebrow. Velvet was obviously studying him.

“… consommé?”

Ingway burst out laughing.

Chapter Text

There’s no time, and Cornelius really didn’t want to delay his meeting with Ingway. Especially since a pooka came to deliver a message from Ingway suggesting he just burn down the castle and the book with it.

He didn’t even question ‘why’ Ingway decided to message him. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ingway somehow knew about what he was doing even without his new Seer ability.

Needless to say, Cornelius came to fear for his people’s lives.

He didn’t think Ingway would actually burn down Titania’s royal palace just to destroy the book, but since Ingway had also caused the Cauldron to malfunction in the past, he couldn’t be sure. To make matters worse, Darkova or not, Ingway was definitely capable of reducing Titania to ashes by himself.

Okay, maybe the whole kingdom was a bit far-fetched. The capital though? Certainly doable, Cornelius had no doubt. The growing slums were very flammable and now Ingway was probably Wagner’s favorite person.

How a kindhearted princess like Velvet could have someone like Ingway as her twin was beyond Cornelius.

When one says a sibling getting all the good genes, it probably meant this.

Velvet was the good to Ingway’s bad.

Nevertheless, Cornelius agreed with Ingway. They really needed to hurry, especially since Ingway foresaw the war reaching its climax soon.

They needed to get to Ringford before Queen Elfaria’s supposed time of death, but they also couldn’t let the Wise Men get their hands on Titania’s Book of Transformation. Even though Ingway wasn’t going to be Darkova this time, the possibility of another being pushed into the role had to be eliminated.

It didn’t help that they’ve basically taken control of three kingdoms out of five in Erion.

Just as he was fretting, the same pooka that had given him Ingway’s message yelled out.

Apparently, another page of Ingway’s message had accidentally been left behind in his bag.

Cornelius’s breathing hitched.

Back then, you told Velvet you have something to tell her.

What was it?

Cornelius joined Velvet and Ingway two days later in Eltrit Forest. Upon spotting him, Ingway raised his hand and waved lazily. The sight obviously disturbed Velvet.

Ingway’s eyes turned glassy and out of focus, then he’s the one who seemed disturbed.

“You can’t be serious…”

“That is what came out of your suggestion.”

“I suggested you burn down your castle town. I suggested Velvet to see you burn your castle town.”

Velvet shook her head in denial. Cornelius, guiltily, couldn’t bring himself to believe her and sighed.

“Your other suggestion.”

“I didn’t suggest anything else,” Ingway insisted. Cornelius sighed once more.

“Ingway---”

“I will kill him,” Ingway announced, and Cornelius caught his arm before he could teleport to Titania.

Of course he would.

Telling the King of Cornelius’s intention to step down as crown prince and just focus on preventing Armageddon with was obviously met with resistance. It didn't help that no one bought his reasoning, everyone somehow having no doubt that Cornelius only wanted to step down because Edmund disapproved of Velvet. Edmund reminded him of his uncle and his tragic fate, but Cornelius also knew that his uncle only died because King Gallon called for his assassination. Hence, he argued back that he’d be happy with Velvet and not die in a ditch so long as Edmund doesn’t call for his murder.

And even then, he was certain that Velvet and Cornelius both would survive.

Just in case though, he also warned that hurting Velvet would undoubtedly lead to Titania’s end. Cornelius himself would destroy the kingdom before Ingway could.

In the midst of it, he accidentally let slip his plans to go to Ringford.

And… the King commented that it’s better for Cornelius to be matched with the fairy princess rather than the princess of no land.

He suggested tying the two kingdoms with marriage between him and the fairy princess, making do with Velvet as a mistress.

Even Ingway in his previous life, who was too caught up in revenge, wouldn’t forgive such an insult towards his sister. And, even if it’s just a guess, Cornelius had figured out that Ingway’s other precious person was the fairy princess. 

For royalties, it’s not unexpected to be in a loveless arranged marriage for politics’ sake. Ingway, as a prince himself, would know about this. But, knowing the expected and accepting it was a different matter.

Even though Ingway had considerably softened up with Cornelius, he would do worse than cursing him and sending him off to Netherworld if Cornelius decided to entertain the King’s suggestion.

“If you can see what happened, surely you can see how I reacted to that suggestion.”

Ingway snarled and yanked his arm away from Cornelius’s hold. Though not fully appeased, he was still there and did not drag a dragon to destroy Titania, which was a win.

“… did you at least manage to burn that book?”

“Yes.”

Ingway raised his hand and Cornelius slapped it. Then he announced that the third wheel would now leave, and left Cornelius with Velvet.

“Ingway!”

“You got mad when I disapprove, and you also get mad when I don’t. Make up your mind, Velvet.”

That’s just him teasing, Cornelius knew. Skuldi (and possibly also Beldor) was around, and it would be bad if Ingway and Cornelius were spotted at the same time. He told them that he’d see them later in the abandoned castle, where he’d put up spells and runes to prevent unwanted company from coming, before he disappeared in a poof of smoke with a snap of his fingers.

“What was that about?”

“It is nothing. Ingway just saw something unpleasant, and I managed to convince him to not destroy Titania.”

“… yes?”

“He wanted to kill my father the King.”

“Yes?”

Cornelius laughed. Velvet looked at him in a mix of confusion and horror.

“It’s alright, Velvet. I wouldn’t let him. We have an agreement.”

It’s not like they made a contract. But, Cornelius believed that Ingway would abide.

Ingway didn’t want to make Velvet sad too.

Of course, killing people can be unavoidable during the war. Cornelius wouldn’t ask Ingway the unreasonable. He just wanted Ingway to not lose himself or die in pursuit of stupid things.

He could so easily say, “I can sell my soul to attain power”, and it’s actually scarier than his death threats. Cornelius had a terrible feeling that at the end of everything, though he might be spared from ending up in Netherworld, Ingway would be under a horrible curse or two.

Either that, he would die.

Convincing Ingway that Velvet would be unhappy without him with her was still work in progress, but at least he was cooperative.

Miraculously.

“… Cornelius. Ingway has told me what happened.”

Doubtful.

Cornelius knew Ingway, and there were things he was not willing to tell anyone, including Velvet. He was sure that Ingway hadn’t changed in that regard. So, he stayed quiet, just waited until Velvet elaborated. If he accidentally revealed something, Ingway would just be more of a pain than he already was.

“He said you are now working with him to prevent Armageddon.”

“Yes, that is true.”

“I don’t understand. Ingway said it’s because he saw the future. But, it’s too sudden. I find it impossible that Ingway would so easily agree to work with you.”

“I saw the future he’d seen too. That’s how our goals become aligned.”

“You’re not a Seer.”

“There’s a magic mishap, you see? I happened to be affected. Ingway said he might also be affected because he’s part of that future I saw. After all, we saw the same thing. I assure you, he raged that night he realized. He didn't so easily agree to work with me, as you put it.”

“That night he showed me that you two have somehow made up?”

“Yes.”

“… what did you see?”

“Us surviving Armageddon.”

Silence.

“I don’t understand.”

Cornelius understood how absurd it might have sounded.

The current Velvet knew of the prophecy and that Armageddon was incoming. She knew that her brother wanted to prevent it. That was why, she might have expected to hear about how they failed to do it.

Wanting to change things despite having succeeded in overcoming Armageddon…

“We survived, but it wouldn’t be a happy thing. Not to you, not to Ingway. We lost too much.”

Everything got destroyed.

The two of them, Gwendolyn, and Oswald were the only survivors.

They tried. They had a peaceful life together.

Even so, the grief was too much for Velvet.

“What about you?”

“I was happy. I was with you, so how could I not? I would be happy just by being with you even if it’s in the darkest part of Hel. Even so, that doesn’t mean I will let you go to Hel if I can help it. Ingway has his own motivations, but he is still your brother. He heard me out and is willing to work with me.”

“… why?”

“Because he loves you. Even his dislike of me is due to love for you.”

“You would accept him, just because of that?”

Cornelius couldn’t help laughing at this. So Velvet understood how problematic his brother was. In his previous life, the worst Velvet ever called him was an idiot. The current Velvet would probably agree with Cornelius that Ingway was insane.

“I love you, Princess. I am willing to let go of everything if it means being with you, and I am willing to do anything to make you happy. Having to work with the devil himself is not that hard to accept.”

“Did you just call my brother the devil?”

“Yes.”

Velvet laughed a bit but didn’t rebuke Cornelius.

He offered his arm, and Velvet took it with a smile.

She’s not completely appeased, but apparently whatever she’d heard from Ingway and Cornelius both were enough to calm her anger.

That’s good enough for Cornelius too.

Chapter Text

“I need to go to Ringford. I’ve been thinking of getting back Titrel from the faeries, and the Shadow Knight’s attack on Hindel might serve as justification. Though I’m sure they wouldn’t accept the logic,” was Ingway’s announcement before he bit into his omelet.

Ironically, they deemed Pooka Village to be the safest place for a strategy meeting. The Wise Men knew not of its entrance, and they had never been spotted in it. Remarkable, really, since people from Titania, Ragnanival, and even Ringford had come and go.

“… you… gave Titrel to Queen Elfaria?”

“I did.”

“…”

Velvet was too afraid to ask why. Her brother had gone mad due to what happened during the Cataclysm, and so he couldn’t exactly be expected to think things through.

“I just rather someone else held it than that blasted Demon King. The Vanir are the ones who seem to be able to rival the Aesir’s military might. That's all there is to it,” was his explanation, an answer to an unvoiced question. He'd said it so simply with a shrug.

Gray eyes clouded by mist glistened.

“Ingway…”

“I stand by my decision.”

That decision being the reason war happened was inconsequential. Ingway was too broken to be able to feel anything regarding that.

“Still, I concede that we need Titrel if we want to destroy the Cauldron.”

Having no particular attachment to the ring itself, Ingway seemed to be willing to let the fairies keep said ring. They were the ones embroiled in war, and taking away the very reason they were at war was cruel. Still, having a conversation and setting boundaries for the mutual goal of avoiding Armageddon feels necessary.

Ingway seemed to have thought about it since days before, and so Cornelius felt bad to have to ruin it for him.

“Forgive me, but I think one of us should maintain contact with Urzur in Titania, and the other shouldn’t be anywhere near the other Wise Men meanwhile. Ringford included.”

As to why, it’s because Ingway was asked to look for the Book in the first place by the Wise Men. It would be suspicious if they simply cut contact with them, and it’s not hard to imagine what they’d do to Velvet to encourage Ingway to give up the Book to them.

They wouldn’t believe that the Book of Transformation had been burned. The idea that anyone would even attempt to would be unthinkable to them.

Still, it’s the truth. Cornelius himself had burnt it. Even so, he hadn't managed to convince his father to trust the Book to him, and his father hadn’t noticed that the Book was no longer where he’d hidden it.

King Edmund might once had been a brave warrior king, but he was currently a mere shell of his former glory. The trauma of that time haunts him still, a powerful and unbreakable curse crueler than even the worst spell in Ingway's repertoire, crippling him to the weak, cowardly man he undeniably was at the moment. That being said, Cornelius knew his father.

He’d found the Book deep in the treasury, in a secret room that no one knew about. The room he only found out about after he practically stalked his father from the shadow like a ghost, no doubt terribly influenced by Ingway and his threats to burn down the whole Titania if necessary.

Or perhaps it was Oswald, who once told him of how he first saw Gwendolyn in the Ragnanival castle during a reconnaissance mission.

Inside the room was the proof of darkness in Titania, enough to make even the most patriotic of Titanians to wonder if perhaps they were as bad as the worst figures in history. Documents and artefacts, and one of them was Titania’s Book of Transformation, which had corrupted their King Gallon and transformed him into one harbinger of Armageddon.

It was truly a miracle that none of the Wise Men had known of this room. Perhaps, despite all of their boasting, the ability to see was just too precious and difficult to achieve even through spells. Perhaps that's why they were so proud of the fact that they had managed to enslave a dragon, peer of the wisest seer in the world.

Perhaps that's why in their previous life, they didn't notice Ingway switching the book with a fake.

He was certain that Ingway had planned the switch since a long time ago. And so, he asked Ingway for the forgery.

He wanted to hand the forged Book over to Urzur. Because he still thought it's necessary to maintain the illusion that Ingway was still on their side. King Galleon was still in the Netherworld, and even if a new Darkova would never be born in the world, the Wise Men could simply go there and control him as he wished.

They had the spell to do so.

The prophecy could still be fulfilled. It wouldn't end until those who wish for it perish.

Ingway's smile when he heard his thoughts sent shivers down Cornelius' spine.

“Oh, what's this? The goody-two-shoes getting corrupted? I honestly never expected you to be so assertive.”

“Murder is not something I can readily agree with, no matter how hateful the person is. However…”

Belial was still under their control.

The sooner they kill those three and free the poor dragon, the better it would be for Cornelius' conscience.

Ingway hummed in acknowledgement, his grey eyes focusing on something beyond what others could see.

The threads of fate were unraveling. The tapestry as woven by the Norns was becoming something else entirely. At this point, not even Ingway could see what would become of the world. So, he agreed that maintaining some sort of continuity was necessary until they could formulate a plan to kill those blasted sorcerers, at least so that any potential problems could be anticipated.

If only simply depositing them in the Netherworld would be enough. It was proven in their previous life that not even death could stop them and their ambition.

But surely there's a way. No, there is a way.

“I'll leave it to you, then,” Ingway said as he handed over the forged book he'd made, his smile made it clear to anyone that he had thought of a wonderfully insane plan that could ensure the Wise Men's permanent demise. Probably he's fine-tuning the details and deciding when best to do it.

Cornelius was sure Ingway wouldn't share that with him. He didn't know if he'd be able to stop him, either.

Add to that, Cornelius was supposed to be a pooka trapped in the Netherworld. They couldn't be seen together, and it made things difficult.

“Still, going to Ringford is necessary. Perhaps the matter of Book of Transformation can be dealt with afterwards.”

“Or… perhaps I should go to Ringford and negotiate with the faeries.”

Both men turned to Velvet, who was buttering up her bread thoughtfully.

If Cornelius was supposed to have been sent to the Netherworld, and Ingway was supposed to be personifying him, then they both couldn’t be seen at the same time. In truth, Oswald seeing the both of them together was also a problem. Thankfully, both Ingway and Cornelius agreed that it was not likely for Oswald to talk to Beldor. Oswald was a man of few words, and to both of their recollection, he would only talk with his blasted pest of a foster father during his time in Ringford.

Melvin should not be privy to the Wise Men’s plans, busy with his plans to coup and all that.

If the reason for them having to go to Ringford was to protest the faeries regarding one of them attempting to kill Hindel, with one of the Wise Men in their court, Ingway couldn’t be there even if it’s true the faeries would only listen to him.

Still, they were likely to also listen to Velvet.

She was, after all, his twin, the other heir to Valentine.

It made sense. Especially since with the rate it was going, the battle between Aesir and Vanir would get so much worse, making an audience with Elfaria more difficult than it already was.

“Someone also has to be with the dragons. If the reason Shadow Knight was sent to kill Hindel is truly to test out Belderiver, then it’s likely for him to return to Horn Mountain. Someone has to stay and protect the dragons. As for that someone…”

Admittedly, Cornelius wasn’t confident that he would be able to beat Oswald in a fight. Velvet, despite never seeing him fight, seemed to have noticed it.

“Maybe there’s a reason the dragons go extinct if they go down that easily.”

“Ingway.”

“You’re asking me to just sit still babysitting the overgrown lizard while you go to the faeries who would tolerate you at best? Where the enemies are? You must be out of your mind, Velvet. Did you perchance partake of a poisonous mushroom from the forest?”

“I can do this. Let me help you.”

“Help me, you---”

Cornelius decided to stay quiet and let the siblings talk among themselves, awkwardly playing with his salad. Ingway growled, though it seemed to just be out of frustration. Perhaps a residual wolfish trait Darkova curse had marked in his soul. It amazed Cornelius that Velvet seemed to be the one winning the argument even though previously she was powerless against her brother. 

Ingway only realized at the very end how much he’d hurt his sister, and he didn’t want Velvet to get caught in war or his mess again this time. Cornelius agreed with the sentiment, but he also couldn’t think of any alternatives.

“If you are so worried, return Graveryl to me.”

Miraculously, he agreed to return the psypher, explicitly admitting that he was worried. The jewels glowed eerily as they exchanged hands, pulsing in rhythm to a heartbeat.

“I’ll be fine. If there’s anything, I can simply teleport away. I’m not much of a sorceress, but I can do that much. Besides, you can always see me, can't you? What are your terms?”

“… no killing the dragons. Also, discourage Queen Elfaria from mass-producing psyphers. If possible, enlighten her of the coup brewing in her court.”

“Alright. I shall do my best.”

“Velvet---”

“I know. Beware of the Wise Men. I won’t approach them.”

Such was how breakfast went that morning, before the three decided to part ways.

Chapter Text

“Ah, just a warning. Careful, Cornelius. Tread wrongly, and you might get cursed by those blasted geezers.”

“What?”

“Not a pooka curse. Only I can curse someone into a pooka. Into a frog, most likely.”

“What?”

“’Tis reversible, I assure you. Just a tad difficult to dispel. A kiss from a powerful fairy… infinitely easier than collecting all of Valentinian coins, no?”

“Ingway, what do you mean? Ingway?!”

Cornelius ventured deep into the Titanian sewer. The stench and dampness suffocated him, but of course, Urzur would pick this place as their stronghold.

Dirty places would invite dirty diseased beings. Such was the argument of those who desire the removal of the slums.

The psypher’s glow comforted him. He knew that the sword was an abominable thing, that one day it needed to be returned to Queen Odette or the earth itself, but at the moment, it was his strength.

Ingway wouldn’t ever use it. His preferred weapon wasn’t a sword, and it’s not likely to change anytime soon. Sorcery suited him best, and his dagger was trustworthy enough for when he ran out of magic. It might be the most glaring clue that he’s an impostor, but Cornelius wasn’t confident enough to approach the Wise Men without his strongest blade.

Nothing else could cut through the dragon’s scales.

A low rumble was audible, and Cornelius knew it wasn’t the wind.

How would Ingway be with the dragons? How did he act with the dragons? Cornelius never saw him with the dragons in their past life. Knowing Ingway, he wouldn’t care about them. With Hindel, he’d seemed uninterested until he mentioned the World Tree.

But Cornelius couldn’t not care about them. Especially not Belial. He dug his nails into his palm to ground himself, resisting the urge to stab Urzur and free the noble, majestic dragon tailing after him.

Even after millennia, his encounter with Belial was still fresh in his mind. The dragon had begged to be killed, and Cornelius had fought him with a heavy heart.

He’d been warned. Not until the time is right. Now, it’s still not the time.

“Have you succeeded, Ingway?”

Urzur drawled, bony fingers caressing his long, dirty beard. His voice, more than anything else in the sewer, disgusted Cornelius.

He threw the forged book at the sorcerer. He was certain Ingway would act like so.

“Ooh…! Finally… It finally comes into our hands at last…!”

His laughter grated on Cornelius’ nerves. He watched in disgust as the sorcerer traced the Book reverently, before making it disappear with a hand wave.

“Aah, that sword… is that Almacia?”

Cornelius’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his psypher. Apparently, he’d guessed correctly as to what Urzur meant.

“… is that the name?”

“Where did you get that?”

“Picked it up in the Netherworld. Velvet has been nagging me about using her Graveryl, figured this should be a decent replacement,” he lied. It sounded plausible enough, or so he hoped. “Why?”

“That is the precious blade of the Titanian royal family, thought to be lost when King Gallon was defeated years ago.”

Cornelius knew. He didn’t know the sword had a name, but he knew the reason King Gallon had it. He hummed in acknowledgement, managing to channel Ingway’s aloof attitude regarding everything that wasn’t related to his obsessions.

“So that’s why Edmund screamed when he saw it.”

“I imagined he would. ‘Tis the very sword he used to kill his own father.”

And which had broken his mind, making him easily manipulated by just about anyone.

His court sorcerer, mostly.

“I never knew you were also proficient with a sword, Ingway. Your main weapon is a dagger, is it not?”

“While yours is your dragon. Only psyphers can break their scales; are you not aware?”

Urzur's laughter made him want to vomit, but he managed to hold it in. The sorcerer didn’t seem interested in the psypher beyond that, and Cornelius supposed it was because he didn’t feel the need to go after things he wouldn’t be able to use properly.

“Now, tell me how you would control it.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“I know you three. You want to be puppet masters playing the kings of the new world. True destruction isn’t your aim. You wouldn’t ask for the Darkova if you didn’t think it could be contained. Am I wrong?”

“As sharp as always, Ingway. You would have made a fine king if only Valentine hadn’t fallen.”

If only you hadn’t destroyed it, was unsaid and yet loud enough to make his blood boil.

He’s deliberately pushing Ingway’s buttons. Even if Cornelius thought of himself as more grounded, it’s hard to stay calm and not be angry on his brother’s behalf.

“Just answer me.”

“A trade, then. Give us the ring Titrel, and I shall tell you how to control Darkova.”

“You are mad. It’s in Elfaria’s finger, and she’s in the middle of the battlefield.”

“The one who controls the Cauldron controls the battlefield and also the world. Sooner or later, all will be ours. It is only a matter of when and how we shall acquire it. You don’t have to agree, just as we don’t have to tell you. We have our ways.”

Belial growled, and it was clear that Urzur meant the dragon as one of his ways. It wouldn’t be above them to betray Elfaria and had her be killed by the very dragon she’s relying on, just so they could get Titrel.

Ingway wouldn’t like that development. Maybe that’s why he’d faked Titrel too in their past life. Of course, back then, Elfaria was already dead, and the one Ingway was worried about would be her successor.

Ingway wasn’t around, but Cornelius could feel his gaze.

If it’s true that the Wise Men already considered it since this time, then his reaction when Hindel revealed the true identity of the World Tree was justified.

Belial was currently here, but soon he’d join the Vanir forces. Remembering past events, Belial shouldn’t be against the Vanir until far ahead, but there’s no telling since the circumstances have changed.

“… fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

He turned and walked away. The urge to vomit was almost unbearable.

No wonder Ingway was always angry in the past, he couldn’t help thinking.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time that was no more, Velvet entered Ringford palace as a thief after the ring Titrel.

Now, she was an official guest, although obviously unwelcomed.

Despite years having passed since the destruction of Valentine, court etiquette had been engrained in her body. She stood tall and proud, chin up and shoulder straight, before performing a perfect curtsy.

Though she by no means shameless, she’d gotten too used to feeling shameful to feel even remotely bothered by the whispers.

“Velvet of ruined country Valentine greets Your Highness.”

“Rise.”

When she did, her eyes met a young faery’s. She was small, barely a teenager. In Elfaria’s absence, her presence indicated high rank despite her young age. The arbalest she was leaning on had a red jewel similar to the ones dangling on Velvet’s hip.

When the Queen and her most trusted generals were on the battlefield, the one protecting the palace would be the Crown Princess Mercedes. Unlike in Ragnanival, where the two princesses were already renowned warriors, Mercedes was still too young and inexperienced for battle. So, it just made sense.

If there’s a surprise, it’d be that Elfaria chose to leave Titrel with her in Ringford instead of holding onto it personally.

Or perhaps, it’d be better in the worst-case scenario?

Still, it’s a risky move. Ingway also left his magic research materials with Velvet, and she knew how disappointed he was when he found out that she’d lent some to Skuldi.

“What brings you here, Witch?”

Velvet snapped out of her pondering.

“Your Highness, I have come on my brother’s behalf to beseech you to return Titrel to us.”

The faeries, unicorns, and lilipats present there roared in outrage. Still, Velvet didn’t even flinch.

Mercedes raised her hand, and they reluctantly quieted down. Her voice was clear as bell as she called out to her advisor. She had been unaware of how Titrel came to be in the possession of her kingdom, but that’s not surprising.

Even Cornelius was still not included in most court matters.

In his case, it’s mostly due to the King disagreeing with most of his input. In Mercedes’s case, Velvet suspected it’s mostly because she could still qualify as a child.

The lilipat Matthew explained to her about the Prince who came almost immediately after the cataclysm that befall Valentine and handed over the ring to Queen Elfaria. Mercedes listened with furrowed eyebrows, deep in thought.

“Your brother entrusted us with the Cauldron, and the ring Titrel is the key for using it. It is the very center of the war raging in the ruins of your kingdom.”

“Yes. He’d believed that the Vanir would be able to protect it from the Demon Lord and prevent the Armageddon. Even so, recent happenings have worried him and made him doubt himself.”

“The Vanir is on the winning side.”

“That we do not doubt, Your Highness. I have no doubt that your army is mightier than even dragons. Still, the dragon Hindel was our mother’s confidante. It shocked us when your Shadow Knight charged without as much as an explanation.”

Mercedes’s eyes widened, lips parted as words lost her. She seemed in shock, and Velvet noticed she had the habit of covering her mouth with her hand as she thought. Apparently, she truly didn’t order the dragons to be slain.

“… where is the Shadow Knight?”

“He is currently in the battlefield, Your Highness.”

“I see… yes, I suppose it’d be stranger if he isn’t.”

One could only hope he’s really on the battlefield. According to the pookas, the Aesirs were already pushed to a corner. It’s only a matter of time before they deployed their strongest warriors. Since the most renowned among them were psypher wielders, Oswald’s presence was necessary.

Elfaria thought so too, perhaps. Maybe that’s why she’s not in the palace, since Ingway was so certain that Belial were in Titania now with Urzur.

“The ancient manuscript spoke of Leventhan as the last dragon. Your Highness, our connection to the dragons aside, it is our belief that slaying them would simply hasten the end’s arrival.”

“… hence your brother’s fears.”

Velvet nodded, although as she understood it, Ingway only used it as excuse. He didn’t really care about dragons.

“It pained him enough to see one enslaved to your service, Your Highness.”

Not really, Ingway felt absolutely nothing about Belial other than for the fact his existence made it a bit harder to kill the Wise Men. But, Velvet wasn’t above using half truths or lies during negotiations.

She’s gotten used to it dealing with her Grandfather.

“Please. Return Titrel to us. Allow us to ensure that the Cauldron no longer usable by anyone.”

Murmurs filled the audience chamber.

Elfaria spoke of ensuring that the Cauldron not used by Odin, because using it would kill off their forest and their way of life. That’s why no one dared to say anything, especially not towards Velvet.

As one of heirs to Fallen Kingdom Valentine, some may argue she had just as much claim to the ring and Cauldron as the faeries.

“… I can not return Titrel to you. The control over it is what pushed my people to war and losing it will belittle their sacrifice. And Mother entrusted it to me.”

Velvet expected that much. She didn’t expect the ring to be returned in the first place. She considered it a victory that Mercedes sounded very regretful, and she was certainly going to talk to Elfaria after she returned from war.

“However, I shall swear upon my true name. No dragons shall be slain by Vanir. I am sure Mother would agree.”

After all, she made the refugee dwarves stop forging weapons, especially with jewels from the Cauldron, because she feared Armageddon. It’s not unreasonable to expect her to also not want to kill of the dragons.

Ingway too, said that she would probably consider positively to the proposal of disabling the Cauldron. Still, for some reason, Ingway was pessimistic that it would happen.

“… thank you for your understanding, Your Highness. And, if I may---”

“Is there anything else?”

“Beware of Haljas approaching your court, Your Highness.”

The mere mention of the reapers managed to silence the whole court. Mercedes visibly gripped Tasla tighter.

“Is that a threat?”

“How dare I? Your Highness, I am simply warning you. Surely you know how your Shadow Knight gain his might.”

From the look of it, she was obviously not.

To be fair, Velvet didn’t think her age or her lack of involvement with court matters can be blamed for her lack of knowledge. Velvet herself hadn’t known until Ingway told her. She didn’t even know it was possible to gain the power of the dead.

“Queen Odette isn’t known for her patience. His time is almost up, Your Highness. Haljas will come after him soon enough, and who to say they wouldn’t harm anyone who happens to caught their eyes in pursuit?”

The prophecy spoke of the army of the dead. Who to say they wouldn’t come to reap the souls of the damned from using the accursed psypher?

Right now, Queen Odette was hostile towards Odin in particular. Who to say her wrath wouldn’t include all of Erion one day?

The air suddenly felt cold.

Everyone who heard it seemed to be getting anxious from the warning.

Haljas have little to do with faeries’ death. Haljas come for men, not creatures as holy as the faeries.

“It won’t happen.”

Mercedes said clearly. Confidently. Innocently.

“I’m not sure about the Shadow Knight, but the lilipats have sworn that they would not forge anything again. It’s impossible for another psypher to be made again in Ringford in, isn’t it?”

She’s the only one who could say that. Everyone else seemed doubtful. It’s undeniable that there were those who opined to make more psyphers, and the young princess was the only one unaware of it.

“… yes. It seems we worry unnecessarily. Pardon my impudence, Your Highness.”

“Yes. And thank you. I shall keep your warning in mind.”

Velvet bowed once more before leaving unescorted.

Once upon a time that was no more, Mercedes went to the battlefield chasing after the witch who had stolen the ring Titrel.

This time, it didn’t happen.

The witch had simply come in warning. The ring was still in her possession, and she’d come to know some outrageous things.

Dragon slaying? There’s no way her mother would order such a quest. Something wasn’t right.

As inexperienced as she was, she noticed the discomfort in the air.

The Witch wasn’t the cause. She’d simply shown how dangerous everything was becoming to the faeries. But, the idea that her people were not preventing Armageddon as she believed and may had even taken part in causing it was unbelievable.

“Gramps.”

“Your Highness?”

Her advisor had agreed that the lilipats would never forge another weapon, and their smithies had mostly closed off. Even so, there was one who got special permission from the Queen herself to keep smithing, as he had been the one who made the psyphers from Cauldron jewels.

“Can you please call Brom?”

Chapter Text

Ingway fiddled with a Valentinian coin as he read through his notes. There’s a faint trace of magic that only the strongest of sorcerers could sense, and Ingway tried comparing what he’s sensing with theories and formulas that he had. Even if he was practically forced to play babysitter for Hindel at the moment, it didn’t mean he would just sit silently and do nothing.

“The pookas think that magic in the coins will be able to break their curse… Still, Cornelius took years to gather all the coins.”

“That he did.”

“I don't have milleniums. Do you know of another way to break the pooka curse?”

“I am a dragon. Humans praise me for my wisdom due to my ability to see upon the picture in the tapestry of fate, not my knowledge of magic.”

“Figures.”

“A powerful curse requires power of equal measure, and praises are still sung about Valentinian’s might. As its heir, no one has more power than you have in your blood.”

Ingway had always been strong, but his time in the Netherworld had most likely brought him to a height no human could hope to reach in their lifetime. Magic relied mostly on the mind and soul, and not even a time loop could erase what’s been engrained in one’s soul.

That was before he got Hindel’s blood. He’d also come to possess a magic artifact that could multiply said magic.

The power radiating from him now was enough to make even a dragon nervous. 

What was left was to find the way to use that power to break the curse. Ingway himself seemed to have realized it and was very frustrated with that fact. Some would say that the joy of magic was from discovering the miraculous happenings it can cause, but Ingway was in no way capable of seeing it that way.

Magic was simply a tool to protect himself and to get what he wanted. 

It’s easier to use tools that are already true and tested rather than inventing a new one. It applied to all professions.

Even Shadow Knight’s capabilities were due to the experiments done to his predecessors.

Speaking of which---

“The one fated to kill King Gallon was him… huh…”

Fate was certain. That was Hindel’s belief, and Ingway was forced to acknowledge the truth in that. Even his actions until now in attempting to avoid Armageddon were still in line with the prophecy as interpreted by King Gallon. Both now and in his previous life, it was him who set things into motion.

Still, he couldn’t simply not do anything either. The disaster was already bound to happen whether they liked it or not.

Because, if the Aesir were to win the war, they’d use the Cauldron to plunge the world into a sea of fire, and Mercedes was the one fated to stop said sea of fire.

Evidently, asking for Oswald’s cooperation despite their horrible first impression would be necessary if Ingway wanted to completely erase the risk of an army of the dead marching into the living. At least King Gallon would be cooperative and even welcome being killed as long as no one turns into another Darkova.

Ingway’s eyes turned dull for a moment. Past and present swirled together in a nauseating mix, and he clicked his tongue in obvious displeasure. 

Great. Apparently, aside from somehow getting Oswald’s cooperation, he’d also need to keep him from killing the Aesir princess fated to slay Leventhan.

In his past life, after killing Hindel, Oswald proceeded to be sent to Ragnanival to spy on the Aesir’s internal situation. That’s when he first saw his fated other half, and it made him decide not to kill her when they finally met on the battlefield.

Now, since they hadn’t met, death was the more likely outcome if they met. 

Cornelius should be on his way back from Titania, but he wouldn’t get in between them. His conviction to give up the throne aside, he wouldn’t risk getting Titania involved in the war between Aesir and Vanir. 

There’s Velvet, but Ingway would prefer that she stay in the Pooka Village and not in the battlefield, where Haljas and even dragons were lurking.

“I guess, I should, huh…”

It’s not as if he wanted to be some overgrown lizard’s guard dog. Hindel made no effort to stop him either. 

Even though Gwendolyn was his half-sister, Ingway had no particular feelings towards her. He barely acknowledged her existence. That being said, he only wanted to ensure her safety because she’s the one fated to slay Leventhan.

Perhaps, if years ago Odin had acted differently, Ingway would be a loving brother to the two princesses. Still, it’s not the case, and thus Ingway didn’t even think of preventing Griselda’s death.

Velvet would say it’s better than expected, which was Ingway desecrating her corpse out of sheer hatred towards everything relating to Odin.

However, perhaps his doing now would be crueler than that.

Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t Oswald who’d felled Griselda. She’d simply been overwhelmed by numbers due to the late arrival of reinforcements, and it was a random faery’s arrow that had landed on the most unfortunate place. She’d died in Gwendolyn’s arms.

Imagine Gwendolyn’s surprise to see that very sister shielding her from the Shadow Knight.

It took Ingway a few moments to remember that she’s supposed to be dead and thus tweaked his appearance to that of a random valkyrie.

Cornelius must not know. He wouldn’t ever let Ingway live it down.

Although from the looks of it Gwendolyn thought she saw wrong, Oswald definitely realized that the valkyrie standing before him was a shapeshifter. He bared his teeth, more wolfish than even Ingway with Darkova artes permanently affecting his soul.

“… you.”

Belderiver glowed as a dark aura started to envelop Oswald’s body. Familiar aura of death, the very antithesis of Darkova. Flashes of past and present, from this time and his previous life, gave him a headache.

Before, Ingway had Graveryl and Cornelius by his side. Now, he’s not even allowed to use his magic until Gwendolyn leaves lest his presence become known and all of Valentinian would get involved. 

“Leave, Princess. General Briggan’s reinforcement should be nearby.”

“But---”

“Princess!”

Gwendolyn reluctantly left, and that above all else was a relief. 

He let his disguise melt away, focusing his magic on attacking and defending against the knight before him. Killer clouds, cyclones, volcanoes, blazes, spirits… Ingway used all the spells and potions he had, but it did little to stop Oswald. As expected, or rather, Ingway would pity him if the price of his soul was anything less.

He summoned an ooze monster, which somehow managed to slow down Oswald even in his berserk state.

“I feel the need to declare that I am not part of the Aesir. If anything, I’m on the side of the Vanir.”

Oswald reacted to that statement by throwing Belderiver at him, melting into shadow to escape the ooze, fire pillars, and multiple blades that Ingway had summoned. 

Yeah, Ingway figured it’d be like this. 

“As for the princess… I didn’t save her because I wanted to. I need to.” 

Apparently, for Oswald, beating Ingway became something he needed to do.

Whether Ingway was on the side of Aesir or Vanir didn’t matter. He just needed to kill Ingway or else he wouldn’t feel satisfied. 

Ingway was considering using his special blend of metamorphosis potion (guaranteed to last until the proper antidote was taken) when the dark aura enveloping Oswald faded, leaving him panting, drenched in cold sweat, and barely able to stand up.

The berserk state couldn’t last long. Oswald was a human, and that somehow made him last longer than other faeries made to wield Belderiver. Still, it was a few minutes at best, and it ruined his body more and more with each usage.

Ingway healed him.

“… why?”

“Like I said. I’m not an enemy.”

“You saved Odin’s Witch.”

“I need her for something. Trust me, it pains me more than you can imagine.”

“…”

And then, the temperature in the desert dropped considerably.

Rotting fingers slithered out of nothing, reaching out for the Shadow Knight. Hooded figure solidified, and his mere presence caused despair enough to bring one to madness. 

“Your time is up, Oswald. As per contract, you are to be our Queen’s.”

It’s not as if Ingway didn’t see it coming. He knew this would happen around this time. Still, he didn’t expect the Halja to come at the time Oswald was fighting him. 

He didn’t think he’d need any shine potion, but thankfully he still had some from his earlier excursion. He threw the vial at the apparition, reaching out to pull Oswald from the Halja’s grasp as soon as he could. 

It’s the worst situation. Both he and Oswald were weak against the power of death. Oswald’s power came from Queen Odette, while death was the very thing that could suppress Darkova’s influence. Even though he hadn’t and wouldn’t ever use the arte, the curse had marked his soul and the effect went beyond time and space.

The thing that can overcome death is a psypher.

The jewels thrived on death.

Still, the only psypher there was Belderiver, which had been blessed by death. Oswald fixed his stance, apparently managed to gather his bearings, and had decided that the Halja was an even bigger threat than Ingway. 

Something red flew past them, and it hit the rotting heart of the Halja. He wailed, and Ingway watched in amazement as things exploded around the Halja.

It took a moment and the realization as to what those red things were.

“Begone, Halja. You will not claim one of ours today!”

A childish voice, clear as a bell, rang out.

That, above anything else, brought despair to his cursed soul.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time that was no more, Mercedes went to the battlefield chasing after the witch who had stolen the ring Titrel.

Now, she went because she learned the most unbelievable thing.

The strongest warrior in her kingdom was a dead man walking ripe for Halja’s reaping, and that there was a chance the curse afflicting him would bring everyone else down with him.

Even her beloved mother.

The very blacksmith who’d know the most about the curse had been sent to the Netherworld by her own cousin, her mother’s most trusted advisor. She didn’t know what to think. It’s all so horrible and she couldn’t possibly just stay in the safety of Ringford Palace like that.

And so, she flew to the battlefront.

The ray of light that had saved Ingway. The lone wildflower blooming amidst poison and blood. The owner of his heart.

“Queen---"

They’re not supposed to meet. Ingway hadn’t wanted to involve her to his mess.

He’d wanted for her to grow up properly like a precious flower in a greenhouse, but he supposed she wouldn’t have stolen his heart if she wasn’t who she was.

A strong, kind, and pure hearted faery.

She flicked on the switch in Tasla, the jewel glowing in pulses. The bolts coming out of it were as enchanting as they were deadly. The sound flipped a switch in Ingway’s mind too, somehow.

“Human, I saw you healed my knight. You are not an Aesir, aren’t you?”

“… forgive my late introduction, Your Highness. I am Ingway.”

“Save the pleasantries for later.”

Ingway threw the rest of his potions as he chanted, blades and spirits materializing around him, while Mercedes continued her assault using her trusted Tasla. Fighting together with her like that was something Ingway both yearned and dreaded at the same time.

But, he dreaded it even more because it’s also around this time that Queen Elfaria was felled in battle.

This point of time was just so chaotic. The ring Titrel had been the center of a maelstrom stronger than even the desert wind in the ruin of Valentine. Those touched by fate shall scramble for it.

The storm would also blow away the eternal winter blanketing the land.

Ingway was no Hindel, but now he understood why he’s so cryptic more often than not. The vision of the past, even from the time that was no more, was as clear as day. And yet, if Ingway was to try to see how the future changes, what would come to him would be more like a dream.

Abstract images and colors, barely making sense.

Thankfully, Ingway’s knowledge of the past made interpreting it simpler.

What he’d done hadn’t been enough. At this point, Elfaria’s death would still happen.

Even without the ghost of the vengeful King Valentine, that would happen. Such was what was fated.

He expected Halja to appear sooner compared to his previous life, but still he noted that it was sooner compared to his previous life.

Who’s to say Queen Elfaria wouldn’t die sooner too?

When the Halja melted into the shadow, Ingway realized that Mercedes came to the battlefield because of that very possibility.

“Mother… where’s the Queen?! The Halja didn’t reap her too, right?”

The thought of preventing her death never even came to Ingway’s mind. Truly, he’s worse than even the pest gnawing at her roots.

She flew away after ordering Oswald to go away, away from the battlefield and Ringford both, not deigning to even hear the men’s response.

A touch of death was enough to bring Oswald to his knees, and Mercedes had called him his knight.

That’s why Ingway couldn’t just leave him in the dirt.

And that was the reason why Oswald ended up in the castle in Eltrit Forest.

Cornelius stared at the half-dead man on the bed, then at Ingway who was restocking his alchemy potions on the terrace, and flat out asked what happened.

“Shit happened,” Ingway answered as he slammed down his blade and cutting a squealing carrotteer on the mouth.

Cornelius acknowledged that shit was what had been constantly happening in Ingway’s life. But that's too vague as an explanation. 

“He’s now banned from Ringford and also the battlefield until further notice. Queen’s order.”

“I can’t imagine Queen Elfaria ordering that. He’s the Vanir’s strongest asset.”

“Not her. Mercedes.”

“That’s… that’s her daughter’s name, isn’t it? The Queen is dead?!”

 “Our Queen is not dead.”

Oswald managed to quip despite looking almost as white as the sheet under him. Cornelius had this urge to get the Belderiver away from his grasp, but surprisingly it was Ingway who stopped him.

“Psypher is the only thing that can triumph over death, and that one has been blessed by death herself. Let him hold onto that.”

Ingway added that Oswald would probably cut off his hands if he dared. Cornelius backed away with raised hands.

It’s ironic, really. Even though Oswald’s plight came from that very psypher, Belderiver was still the most powerful weapon against the dead army, Haljas included. Ingway himself felt repulsed by the sword, his cursed soul feeling phantom pain even though it hadn’t been Belderiver that stopped his heart in his previous life.

In contrast, he'd admitted that Almacia’s soft blue glow was most soothing. Even though it had been the sword that killed him.

It’s saying something about Ingway’s state, to be honest.

Speaking of state, it amazed Cornelius of how tame Oswald seemed at the moment despite how murderous he was in Horn Mountain. He still seemed guarded, but he didn't seem like he's going kill them unprompted. 

“We’ve struck a deal.”

Despite his grim moniker, Oswald was a reasonable man. He might be nnarrow-minded,but he’s not impossible to talk to once you ggetthrough to him. That, Cornelius knew. The fact that Ingway managed to get through him was a surprise, however.

He voiced his wonder out loud.

“Shut up.”

Ingway threw a habaneristo at him, flame bursting out of its mouth with an annoying squeak. Cornelius sliced it midair, the body bouncing harmlessly to Ingway’s table next to the pile of already lifeless mandragoras.

There’s a burst of phozons from one of the flasks like fireworks. They hovered around Ingway for a moment before getting sucked into Almacia and Belderiver both. Cornelius knew that it was possible to create phozon through alchemy, but legends said that a particularly skillful alchemist could get phozons as byproduct of a high-grade potion. It never happened to Cornelius, but he’s not surprised Ingway seemed to think of such an extraordinary feat as not worth glancing over.

“Is your deal related to this alchemy spread?”

“No. I do, however, need him to stay alive for it.”

Hence the alchemy spread.

Ingway approached Oswald with the heal and shine flask in hand. The knight frowned at the flasks suspiciously but drank them in the end.

Color returned to his complexion almost immediately. As expected, but still impressive nevertheless.

“Normally, you’d use shine on your surroundings so that death wouldn’t approach. In your case, it wouldn’t be enough. I'd say one every day will be enough, but I can't be sure.”

Cornelius remembered Oswald mentioning that his body deteriorated since his first meeting with Halja, and it never got better. They tried their best with what they had, but Oswald ended up dying not long after the birth of his twins. Maybe things would have been different if only Ingway had been with them. Maybe things would be different now, and Oswald could grow old with Gwendolyn and not leave her on her own.

One could only hope. Only time could tell, and there were more important things to worry about now.

“I got a message from a pooka peddling in Ringford. The blacksmith credited with forging Belderiver has been banished to the Netherworld by Melvin,” Cornelius reported. He was certain that Ingway had seen this coming since days before. A difficult conversation must be happening in Ringford if that has become common knowledge.

It would appear that no matter the case, Aesir was fated to triumph at this point of time.

Still, in their previous life, Odin couldn’t use the Cauldron even after the Aesir won the battle. It’s because even after they claimed it, they didn’t have Titrel to control it, and thus no psypher could be made. The Vanir also reclaimed it just in time before Odin got to use the ring.

Now that the ring was still with the Vanir, it would be dangerous if the Aesir won and claimed it.

“I need the Cauldron to stay unused.”

Oswald seemed to find the news troubling too. Perhaps that's why he's so docile and cooperative. Because even though he still couldn't accept the fact that his own father had sold his soul to Queen Odette, his current allegiance was to the Vanir. Because, if it were true, then it would mean there's nothing to be gained from losing his own soul.

“I’d rather the Vanir wins, but in the case they are not… I need Titrel to never fall on Odin’s bloody hands. Oswald has agreed to make sure of it.”

As for the ring itself, Ingway actually couldn’t care less. Even if Oswald used it as his wedding ring again, he wouldn’t care one bit.

“And I’ll solve his Halja problem. That’s our deal.”

Even though trust couldn't easily be forged, Oswald seemed to have decided that there's no demerit in cooperating with Ingway.

"What do you need me to do now?"

"As long as this stalemate between Vanir and Aesir is kept, nothing. I'll contact you later."

Oswald nodded curtly as he stood up and put on his armor. Cornelius didn't know where he was going to go after he'd been explicitly told to not go to Ringford, Ingway didn't seem to care, and Oswald himself didn't seem keen on sharing his plans. Oswald melted into the shadows when Cornelius tried asking, not wanting to even show the direction he was taking.

Such was the start of their rocky cooperation.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, deep under the battlefield in the hidden Pooka Village, the princesses came face to face.

Myris had wanted to cheer up her princess, who just lost her sister and couldn’t afford to grieve properly in the war, and thus believed that a treat in Pooka Café was the least she could give Gwendolyn. 

On the other hand, Mercedes had just left the clusterfuck that was Noble Meeting, and she was incredibly frustrated. She herself had witnessed Halja trying to drag Shadow Knight to the Netherworld, and it’s unbelievably frustrating since Melvin and his supporters didn’t seem to think that it was a problem. The knight himself hadn’t been witnessed in Ringford, but with his ability to melt into shadows, Mercedes couldn’t be sure if she had to start looking out for the dead army instead of frogs to keep the little faeries safe.

At least her mother was on her side. Though Mercedes understood her plight, since they were at war and Oswald’s condition complicated things.

Not that he was in any condition to fight, anyway. Last Mercedes saw him, Oswald was obviously not well. He most likely would have died if it wasn’t for the human that had saved him.

Ingway, she remembered the human said his name was. Matthew then mentioned that Ingway was also the name of the prince that had entrusted Titrel to her mother.

She supposed, since the battlefield was right where his kingdom was, it’s natural for him to be there. It made more sense than if he was a Titanian, at least.

She felt the need to thank him. She also thought he could tell her where Oswald was and his current condition. So, she asked one of the peddling pookas for access to their secret village. Being a Valentinian, surely he’d be around, she thought.

That being said, she came across Gwendolyn, who immediately brandished her spear. In response, Mercedes raised her arbalest, the red jewel shining bright like star.

Red filled her vision before she could decide whether to shoot or not.

“Put away your weapons, Your Highnesses. This is the Pooka Village, not the battlefield.”

A familiar voice. Mercedes recognized the voice before she realized that a red jewel psypher was hovering near her face, no doubt her head would have been destroyed if she’d decided to shoot. The knowledge brought chills to run down her spine, and she lowered Tasla reluctantly.

The chain psypher Graveryl slithered like snakes around Velvet, and she noticed that Gwendolyn had also lowered Gungnir. Myris the pooka was apologizing profusely to Velvet.

“Forgive me, Princess. I didn’t think---”

“It’s alright, Myris. I know you didn’t.”

There’s no way Myris could have known that Mercedes would be there too. Honestly, Velvet couldn’t even blame Gwendolyn. She thought it was natural reaction towards faeries since she heard Griselda recently fell in battle.

Myris also couldn’t have known about the royal scandal which had caused the ruin of their kingdom. She wouldn’t understand why bringing Gwendolyn to the Pooka Village was inappropriate in itself, even if Mercedes wasn’t present.

Thay being said, Pooka Village was supposed to be a neutral ground. 

“I ask that whatever grievance you may have be put aside in this little haven of ours, Princess,” Velvet said, sharp eyes stabbing into Gwendolyn’s. No one realized those words were more to herself than to the Valkyrie.

Gwendolyn nodded, and Velvet turned to guide Mercedes away from her. 

It’d be awkward to talk to her in the restaurant or cafe where Gwendolyn was, but there’s not many places to bring her to. Velvet supposed she would have to intrude on her teacher Croix.

She looked around, half-expecting to see Ingway’s evil eyes hovering before realizing there wouldn’t be any. Now that he’d become a Seer, Ingway no longer needed to use his evil eyes to keep an eye on her, but thankfully he’d loosened his reins somewhat and now less likely to yell at her for also working to prevent Armageddon. 

Velvet didn’t know what magical mishap could have happened that caused such a change in Ingway and how Cornelius could get involved, but she could honestly think it’s a good change in him. 

Because the old Ingway would have gone even madder than he currently was if he found out that Velvet just stood between two psypher wielders from two warring kingdom.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I couldn’t prepare proper reception for you.”

“No, please. No need for pleasantries. You may call me Mercedes.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I insist. In this domain, you outrank me. Besides, I am not here as envoy from Ringford. Just… me.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. 

Faeries tended to be light on their feet, many preferring to just float instead of walking. Mercedes, however, seemed odd in that she seemed to be keen on dragging her feet on the ground. Even when seated she seemed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Velvet wasn’t sure it’s entirely due to the large psypher she was holding.

“I also can’t say I represent the Valentinians.”

“You are its heir, aren’t you? Or is it your brother?”

“My kingdom is ruined. My brother and I don’t consider ourselves to be royals anymore. Besides, as you have seen, the pookas welcome anyone who has coins out of necessity, even if they were Aesirs. We strive to be neutral for their sake, but I admit it is difficult since we loathe Odin with all of our being.”

“… I see.”

But she was still their elected leader. She still did her best despite everything. Mercedes couldn’t really fault her for the unfortunate encounter with the valkyrie earlier.

Mercedes didn’t come for a fight anyway.

“Velvet, can I meet your brother?”

“… my brother, Ingway?”

No one ever asked for Ingway. He’s unsociable, and the people he was involved with were the horrible sort whom he would warn Velvet about. Because of that, the ones looking for him were usually the horrible or grudging sort. 

And yet, there’s this faery princess.

“I happened to come across him in the battlefield few days ago.  He saved my knight from Halja.”

That sounded impossible. Ingway saving someone was unbelievable. Either this faery was mistaken, or Ingway did it to gain something.

“If I may, why are you looking for him?”

“I’d like to know about the condition of the knight he’d saved, and also about Titrel. I told Mother about your visit, and she suggested I use this chance to learn more about what we are fighting for.”

It was undeniable that Mercedes was mostly ignorant about the situation of her kingdom. Her kingdom had been in war for as long as she remembered, so she couldn’t help making light of it. She got too used to her mother going to war and return with good news of victory that she figured the best she could do was exterminating monsters that may harm little faeries in Ringford.

Seeing Halja in the battlefield had been a wake up call.

Her mother hadn’t entrusted Tasla because she approved of her ways of thinking. It’s because she acknowledged that it’s getting dangerous, and she wanted Mercedes to have the strongest weapon possible against the enemies.

Elfaria had seemed so troubled by the flood of troubles Mercedes had unleashed. Even so, she had also smiled and happily commented that Mercedes had finally taken interest in the kingdom affairs.

Mercedes never doubted Elfaria’s love, but it’s the first time she felt coddled.

Of course, Mercedes knew enough not to spill that to Velvet. Still, she couldn’t properly hide her worries and frustration.

“… forgive me, but I haven’t heard about any faery knight, and my brother is currently away. It is quite difficult to arrange a meeting with him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Difficult was an understatement. 

Also, Velvet had heard from Cornelius that Ingway most likely held affection for the faery princess. Velvet had no idea how that was possible even if she didn’t think Cornelius was lying. Knowing Ingway, it’s less likely he’d agree to meet her if that was truly the case.

“That being said, I am inclined to help you understand the significance of Cauldron and its key the ring Titrel. After all, I do want you to understand why we asked for Titrel, Princess.”

“I’m not going to simply hand it over to you.”

“I don’t expect you to. But, perhaps, you can arrange an audience with Queen Elfaria later.”

“… that sounds reasonable. Just arranging, right? I can’t say for certain Mother will accept an audience.”

And thus started their cooperation.

Chapter Text

Myris begged her princess’s forgiveness, but Gwendolyn brushed her off with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

It’s not her fault. It’s not anyone’s fault.

It’s just how things were.

Griselda’s death was just still too fresh. That’s why she reacted so strongly at the sight of the faery in Pooka Village. It was only after she’d deflected a red jewel flying to her face and had her arm tied by chains that had slithered like snakes that she realized her situation.

The witch clad in red reminded Gwendolyn that she was on neutral ground, but her eyes so clearly conveyed the contempt she had towards her. She was just being tolerated.

Pookas were neutral and sold their wares to anyone who might have Valentinian coins. Their leader, however, seemed to be partial to the Vanir for some reason.

Gwendolyn supposed it’s just politics. It didn’t offend her. Still, she had a psypher and clearly wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense.

“… Myris. Warn the other pookas against bringing another Aesir to the village.”

“I understand, Princess.”

If it hadn’t been for Gungnir, she would have died by that chain psypher.

After Myris had left, Gwendolyn sat on her bed and carefully traced the runes and inscriptions on Gungnir. The spear hadn’t been with her long, but strangely it felt familiar and comforting to hold despite it being a constant reminder of Griselda’s passing.

A blue bird flew over and perched on the blue jewel, as faint and bright as butterflies.

“I’m sorry… sister…”

The bird tilted her head as if questioning. Gwendolyn’s laugh came off as a choked sob.

When her sister was dying in her arms, Gwendolyn had promised that she was going to see her sister soon.

She was almost glad to find Shadow Knight and had attacked him partly hoping that he would kill her too.

He probably would have if only for that valkyrie who had defended her.

Perhaps it was merely the light getting to her eyes. But for a second she thought she saw her sister.

Her beautiful, strong, and kind sister.

Valkyries believed in glory in death. That after death, they would become jewels in Endelphia and would be rescued back to Ragnanival by their king. To once again fight for their motherland as jewels in their comrades’ weapons.

Supposedly, Griselda believed it too.

And yet, her sister had saved her. Had stayed with her like this.

Perhaps it was merely a delusion.

Perhaps, she was merely justifying her cowardly self.

But still.

But still.

The mightiest sorcerer claimed.

“Seek the blue bird. That is your fate.”

Once upon a time that wouldn’t be, those words were a noble dragon’s dying words.

Once upon a time that wouldn’t be, Oswald would end up in the Netherworld as per the contract his master had signed. There, he would have succumbed to despair if it wasn’t for a blue bird he somehow saw in the depth of the Netherworld.

Delirious with pain and despair after his first meeting with Halja, Oswald ended up asking if he was fated to die. Grumpily, the grey-eyed sorcerer had claimed it was not.

He echoed the words of the noble dragon. Perhaps not intentionally. Being one who desired to defy fate, he wasn’t happy about it. And yet, it happened.

His eyes, which could see through anything, were clear. Oswald had no choice but to trust him.

Eyes were the windows to the soul. This sorcerer had shown nothing but frustration but somehow felt safer than even his father.

Both times, he was protecting Oswald’s enemy. But he was also only ever defending himself. Perhaps that’s why.

He’s an enemy, but he’s not senseless.

That sorcerer had brought him to safety and given him potions. It didn’t bring warmth, but it felt like stepping into ice in Horn Mountain. There’s fear of falling down a slippery slope, and yet for Oswald the ice was always sturdy under him, and he thought the ever-thick blanket of snow covering everything there would prevent serious injury in case it did give.

That sorcerer hadn’t slapped and hit him upon meeting.

“You useless fool!”

If the sorcerer Ingway had been like ice, his father was more like lava in the Volkenon Pit, in which you’re always at risk of burning to death even when you think you’re stepping on solid ground.

He remembered Ingway morphing into this man and how outraged he had been. Because his father couldn’t have that face, and he wouldn’t ever be at the other end of his blade.

Even when he’s hitting and kicking him, Melvin alone would never.

Oswald retreated into himself, thinking about Ingway, his possible goals, and what he expected Oswald to do in return for freeing him from Halja’s clutches.

He thought of the Valkyrie he’d defended, the blue feathers in her armor stark against everything else in his memory.

“…”

Melvin rambled on. About Mercedes’s unexpected presence on the battlefield. About how his plans to arm the Vanir with psyphers got set back.

About how incompetent Oswald was, unable to prove Belderiver’s superiority.

Not against the dragon. Not against other psyphers. Not against Halja.

“… Melvin. Why is the Halja after me?”

The faery seemed to have faltered at the question, as if he hadn’t expected Oswald to finally question him.

“You were supposed to be able to defeat them easily.”

Oswald breathed out. He didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath. There’s ringing in his ears which drowned out more of Melvin’s words.

This faery was supposed to be his father. He’d thought of him as someone to devote his whole life to, because he’d saved and raised him.

Melvin was supposed to be someone who wanted him to live more than anyone else. And yet, he obviously wasn’t.

He thought of Ingway. He also thought of the young faery princess who had cared for him in the palace when he’d failed to kill Hindel.

The kind faery princess who had offered to help him fulfill whatever quest Melvin asked of him.

Who apparently had saved him and even made sure he didn’t just end up an easy target in the battlefield before she went to her most precious person.

Perhaps doubt had crept into his heart long before. Admittedly, it’s the first time Oswald allowed himself to believe it. To admit it himself.

Perhaps that’s why he stayed unmoving even as the powerful sorcerer suddenly appeared in a flash of light. His grey eyes seemed both empty and wild at the same time.

Oswald didn’t even bother covering for him this time.

He’s supposed to. He’s supposed to be a lot of things. But Melvin himself had reminded him a lot, especially lately, of how absolutely useless and worthless he was.

It’s not even part of the deal he’d made with Ingway.

The sorcerer had simply warned him that he would rid the World Tree’s roots of the parasite gnawing at it and that he wouldn’t hold himself back if Oswald were to fight him then. Because, for some reason, even beyond preventing the Armageddon, that agenda was more important for Ingway. Oswald still thought of defending him then. Now, he's not sure why, but he held no desire to whatsoever.

Melvin had no chance.

Chapter Text

“How is it?”

Ingway asked still, even though he didn’t have to. He knew what had happened, both in the time that would no longer come to be and in the current timeline. Cornelius remembered the pain that assaulted him as memories of eternity past got unearthed from his mind and heart, and thus couldn’t help thinking that Ingway chugging down elixir potions was possibly due to the pain the knowledge caused him.

Or perhaps not. He’d also admitted to constant pain from Darkova curse that had scarred his soul, which apparently couldn’t be reversed even with time reversal.

Cornelius thus answered, even though he didn’t have to either.

“He asked for Titrel. As expected.”

“… yeah. They wouldn’t change. I’ll prepare a fake later.”

He sounded so tired. To be fair, it’s normal for someone to feel that way after running around the battlefield, and Ingway had the added burden of his Darkova curse and Seer ability. But, it’s Ingway. For him to openly show that he’d lowered his guard was a pleasant surprise.

“Are you alright?”

He answered by growling, like a wolf would. Cornelius sighed. Progress had been made, but he’s still Ingway. He’s obviously not fine, but Ingway had stopped thinking that his life mattered an eternity ago. Cornelius didn’t think he could convince Ingway to think otherwise, and perhaps focus on resolving that first before stopping the end of the world.

“Are you going to tell me about the deal you made with Oswald?”

“What’s in it for you?”

Cornelius crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. That’s a stupid question, and Ingway knew it.

Oswald was family. Cornelius had spent a few good years with him before his early death, and he thought of Oswald fondly. That aside, he and Ingway were currently a team. Of course, Cornelius had to be privy to the deal.

“… he agreed to do me some favors in exchange for my potions and me getting Halja off his back, as I said.”

“Huh. And, as for the favors?”

“I’ll get him to kill Gallon at some point.”

At some point, meaning either Ingway thought the time wasn’t right just yet or he thought of getting Oswald to do other things.

“For now, a more pressing issue needs to be dealt with.”

“Your worsening pain?”

“No.”

Cornelius could hope.

“The curse’s effect is not worsening or anything. I’m not turning into Darkova, not planning to do so even in the future, and thus, I am fine.”

The way Ingway slammed at the table with one hand while the other was quite literally clawing at his chest indicated that he’s very much not fine.

“Despite what you say, your condition is just too much for me to ignore. If it’s really not the curse of Darkova, praytell, what made you like this?”

“…”

“Wait. Don’t tell me. You mentioned Mercedes, crown princess of the faeries. You met her.”

“I did.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Miraculously, he didn’t even try to deny that Mercedes was the cause of his irrational anguish. He never even let out that the faery he’d held dear in his past life was Mercedes, and Cornelius had simply guessed. He’s either too out of it or had somehow thought of Cornelius well enough to lower his guard like this.

“She’s asking Velvet about me. She’s looking for me.”

“Honestly, I can’t see the problem. That’s a good thing, right?”

Ingway growled again.

Objectively speaking, it was. Elfaria left the ring Titrel with Mercedes, and like this, she’s at least open to negotiation regarding it, and they do need to negotiate. Even if they’re fine with Titrel in the hand of the faeries, one of the Wise Men Beldor had free reign in the faery court as one of Elfaria’s advisors, and thus they needed to at least warn Mercedes to watch out for him.

Ingway realized the necessity of going to Ringford from the start despite his reluctance to meet with her. It’s the main reason why he let Velvet help him even though he’d rather she not get involved.

But he didn’t expect Velvet and Mercedes to keep in contact either.

“I don’t even know what you’re unhappy about.”

“Sentimentality. It’ll pass.”

He talked about his feeling like it’s a kidney stone. It’s as frustrating as it was sad.

“Don’t look like that, Cornelius. I know just the thing that will make me feel better.”

For a moment, Cornelius wondered if it hadn’t been an elixir potion that Ingway had drunk but alcohol instead. Ingway laughed.

“Did you know, Cornelius? A certain dragon had gone on a rampage in Ringford after the slaying of Hindel. Of course, Hindel still lives now, but he has heard about the attempt and isn’t happy about it.”

“Wagner, is it?”

“Yes. You fought him at some point, didn’t you?”

Those touched by fate would scramble over the ring Titrel, and all of them at some point would fight Wagner. In the end, he was slain by Oswald to get Titrel that the dragon had swallowed.

“I’m unsure if Velvet told you or not, but at one point, Odin chose to sacrifice her to the dragon. It was hilariously stupid. He wasn’t aware that Velvet was the one who gave Wagner Titrel to begin with. But, I must admit, it gave me an idea.”

 “You just admitted it was a stupid endeavor.”

“There is no curing stupid, as one would say. In any case, he will terrorize Ringford, just as he did in our previous life. Still, there may be a way to appease him.”

“… you’re planning to sacrifice someone to the dragon?”

His smile was that of a beast about to go on a feral rampage. Cornelius pitied whoever was in his mind as a target at the moment and was momentarily stunned by the realization that he didn’t think it would be himself, even though just a few weeks before, he’d woken up with Ingway’s blade stabbed to his pillow.

His relationship with Ingway had gotten much better, as it seemed.

Hence, Ingway decided that the best way to prevent Wagner’s wrath upon Ringford would be to sacrifice Melvin to the dragon.

There’s absolutely no logical thought to it. He was simply frustrated and, in his frustration, got the epiphany that giving the very person ordering the dragon slaying to Wagner was better than simply killing him. He wanted something and thought up an excuse to justify it afterwards, which Cornelius would say was a major improvement from his previous approach.

At least now he thought of finding a good reason to do something before doing it.

Also, at least he thought of giving warnings to people around him.

Cornelius certainly appreciated the warning, and he was sure Oswald was too.

But that wasn’t enough. It was actually a miracle that Cornelius remembered that Melvin was a duke in the faery kingdom, and thus there’s another needing a warning, or else Ringford would be plunged into worse chaos than what they’re already at.

“Do you want their morale to drop even more?”, managed to convince Ingway.  But it was too late at that time.

Ingway said that he would be giving Melvin to Wagner as a sacrifice after he’d gone to him, beat the hell out of him, and turned him into a frog.

Elfaria was amazing in that she didn’t pass out from shock upon being given a glass jar with said frog inside it.

Once upon a time that was no more, Ingway was cursed with that very curse. Still, as the greatest sorcerer in Valentine, if not Erion, he managed to partially undo the curse so that he could at least speak and even cast simple spells. Melvin wasn’t as capable and thus was rendered completely helpless.

Elfaria accepted the jar resolutely, and Ingway thought she also had been like this when he presented Titrel to her. Absentmindedly, Ingway found himself amazed by the fact that Elfaria didn’t even doubt that the helplessly croaking frog in the jar was her nephew. Her gaze was simply at the young man presenting the jar to her.

“It has been a long time, Prince Ingway. I heard one of my knights has been in your care.”

Ingway’s bow towards her was more proper than towards anyone else in his life.

“I merely gave him a few of my potions and a place to rest, Queen Elfaria.”

Also, an enlightenment regarding what his pest of a father had done to him. But Ingway didn’t voice that aloud.

“That is more than I expect from you. I didn’t think you would participate in this war.”

The thought made him pause. Apparently, saving Oswald from Halja constituted in joining the war. Ingway wanted to refute but found himself unable to.

“… you thought right, Your Majesty. While I am praying for your victory, I am afraid I’m at no liberty to choose a side in this war.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” he acknowledged with a shrug. It might have been a jab. Ingway, however, was too broken to feel anything. “Because unlike how I would cheer for Queen Odette to let her dreadful army destroy Ragnanival, I would hate for the dragons to destroy your beautiful garden out of anger for the pest in it.”

Elfaria wasn’t even phased. It’s as if she had expected it.

“Wagner is already displeased with his peer being thrall to your court sorcerer. Your knight being sent to slay Hindel only fuel his anger. Not even Hindel can be certain he wouldn’t rain down fire upon your kingdom.”

“… the prophecy, is it?”

“Just as before, my priority is to prevent Armageddon from happening, Your Majesty.”

Elfaria seemed to accept the logic. The same couldn’t be said about the one reason Wagner was displeased, standing next to her. He just stood wordlessly, caressing his dirty beard.

There’s no avoiding him at this moment. It’s a risk that Ingway had to take.

There’s no avoiding the young girl next to Elfaria either, standing where her nephew would usually stand to advise her. Ingway did his best so that he’s not looking at her, because he’s not planning on forming a bond of any sort with her in this current timeline.

Velvet had volunteered to be the one who came, as she was also the one who managed to get an audience with her, but Ingway wouldn’t let her. Not this time, not even if Ingway was starting to regret everything, not when his main purpose was to announce what he’d done and what he’s going to do to their duke, nephew to Queen Elfaria herself.

“Present him to Wagner, Your Majesty. I pray he will accept your offering and spare your kingdom from fire and destruction.”

“… and if I choose not to?”

“You know yourself that Erion would be better off if the World Tree doesn’t take root.”

For the first time, Elfaria seemed to falter. Her eyes widened, and her hand holding her staff trembled visibly.

The one to stop the fire would be the World Tree. It’s common knowledge that such was written in the prophecy. What’s uncommon were people knowing the one referred to in the poem as the World Tree.

Melvin’s fate was sealed.