Chapter Text
"..Goodbye, Yvonne."
'Yvonne' aka Leila falls, her hands grasping the empty air.
She grits her teeth.
"If I am to die.." She starts, a turquoise glow forming near Penelope's hand who instantly panics, "Then I won't die alone!"
Leila pulls Penelope with her, both simultaneously falling into the burning hot fire beneath the edge.
"Penelope!"
Came a deep male voice, specks of gold hair visible.
Callisto.
His expression was frantic; brows furrowed, eyes wide, arms reaching out to grab her yet holding nothingness.
"Please don't die...your highness.." Came Penelope's voice as she finally accepted her inevitable fate.
Death.
"You damn mage! She told me you could fix it all!" Yelled the blonde as he approached Vinter.
The disaster had subsided, and despite the fallen rubble and damage done to the palace, peace had once more been restored.
"It is true, your highness...However this may have been the first time we truly did gain peace in the empire. Are you truly willing to sacrifice all of this?" Vinter asks, still hesitant.
He knows how much it burns.
How much it hurts.
He wants to do it.
But at what cost?
"I don't care! I can't...we can't..
"Your highness, turning back time would mean you too forget everything that has happened here. You'd have to go through everything...everything... all over again...These memories will be buried deep inside your consciousness, a place no one can reach. Are you sure?"
"...sigh.. Do it."
"...As you wish."
Leila's POV:
I opened my eyes, finding myself...in the festival.
I was in the body of a young aristocratic woman right now, on whom I had fed on only earlier. I looked in the distance, and there stood the Eckhart children.
Derrick, Reynold and...Yvonne.
The pink-haired girls eyes were lit and shining as an ecstatic, bubbling energy consumed her, walking here and there.
Derrick, ever the guardian, followed along, often telling her not to wander far.
Although Reynold was a few steps behind looking at other things as well, he seemed to tag along.
The past several times, I had killed Yvonne. The protagonist of the story. And I had possesses her body...yet in the end everyone's affection was only manipulated...
If I had perhaps brought Yvonne back, and Penelope had never been a replacement, perhaps everyone could have had their own happy ending.
But Penelope was rabid. She was agressive-only last time did she change. I suspect something must have happened, but I doubt it would ever happen again. Even so...she would never love me...She would find out one day what I am, and would kill me all over again. Or maybe herself.
. . .
I have made up my mind.
With that, I walked away from the festival, heading to the dark, remote alleyways and streets not too far from the Dukedom.
. . .
There sat a starving child in rags, clutching her mothers corpse close to her, asleep.
The child was dressed in rags, was scrawny, and no older than perhaps 11 or 12.
And yet the recognizable pink hair...
To live such a life...
I walked over to her. She seemed to stir, looking at me with a slightly sleepy yet highly guarded gaze.
"Come..child..." I began, my voice forming into the woman's, "Let me end your suffering.."
I reached out, grabbing her.
My grip was tight on her arm; she seemed to be struggling.
"Let go!"
She yelled, her dirty darkened nails scratching and clawing into 'my' skin.
"I can help you.." I whispered to her. "You want your mother to wake up..don't you?"
The girl stiffened for a moment, her movements slowly coming to a halt. She looked at me, and nodded.
"Good," I smiled, "What is your name?"
"...Penelope."
"Penelope...Let me help you. I will help you see your mother once more."
The girls eyes, that were usually so dull and full of nothingness, seem to catch a light of hope that had been deeply buried by years of agonizing pain.
And yet still guarded.
"...I don't want your help."
"You love your mother dearly, don't you?...You'll let me help you, won't you?" I whispered to her, my other hand grabbing the mirror fragment. I didn't need it though; children were always so easy to manipulate. However this is Penelope...Just to be safe..
"...Will she be waiting?"
I paused. I didn't know anything about this girls mother.
. . .
I'd like to hope for the best. This would, perhaps, be the last time Penelope lives.
"Of course...You want to see her again, don't you?"
The girl nodded, a sudden firmness in her expression that I was sure was never there earlier.
"Di assum"
She looked into the turquoise glowing glass, captivated, un affected.
"What is that..?"
I stiffened. I should have expected that.
I sighed.
"Nothing, dear Penelope. I want you to hold my hands, and close your eyes, and imagine how happy you'll be with your mother."
I said to her. I had caused her so much suffering..the least I could do was let her rest in peace once and for all.
"Okay.."
She complied, her ragged, bruised, thin hands holding mine. They were cold. They would be colder afterward.
She closed her eyes, mumbling something incomprehensible. It didn't matter.
"
S̷̨̛͕̞͕̲̞̞̱̝͖̑̈́̇̄̈́̾̚L̶͙̜̤̮͕̗̬̝̙̺̽̎̾͗͒̈́̔̕E̸̡̦̖͓̯̖̮̱̳͐̒͂̓̅̎̓͌͠Ë̴͚̯̜̱͍̬̻̙́͑̍̔͆̕͠P̸͖̠̟̻̺̤̮͗̄̎͒͂̚̚̕̕
C̵̻̲̳̫͌͆͋͂̇̄̚͝H̴̲͙̹̦̋͛̈́̐̔̍̕Ȋ̷̱͖̱͘͘͜͝͠L̶̫̝͎̹̄̾̒͊̈́̕̚͠D̸̥͕̳͑͐̓̕͝͠"
I said.
Over and over.
Her body glowed.
Before...
The small, thin child fell limp in my arms. Her eyes were closed, and her skin grew colder.
She looked..almost at peace. If it weren't for the situation.
I then mumbled a few other words, and the aristocratic woman I had taken over was nothing more than a corpse on the floor.
I had successfully possessed Penelope's body.
However it had its effects.
I felt tired, weak, hungry, pain.
How ironic...
I then got up.
This wasn't over.
I walked-limped, rather, towards the festival, staying on the sides.
Many socially powerful people bumped into me, calling me a 'rat' or to scram.
But I didn't listen.
A little after walking further I saw it.
The sparkling light pink hair, the quiet weeping of a child whose heart was too soft, yet whose influence was vast.
Yvonne Eckhart.
I walked over to her. My limbs ached and my dirty little hands clawed at the thin fabric of my clothes.
"What's wrong?"
Came out a raspy voice from myself. Dehydration.
"I-I'm lost..I-Oh my-! What happened to you?" Yvonne, who was previously crying, suddenly wiped her years. Her eyes, wide with concern and confusion, looked at me as though I were the one who mattered at the moment, her soft hands clutching my arms.
"I...nothing...Why?" I responded meekly. Her gaze was so kind and soft...yet I couldn't help but feel pressured beneath it.
It almost felt she was peeling through my skin, finding the dark monster beneath, and would scream.
But she didn't.
"Nonsense! You're all dirty and hurt! What happened? Did someone beat you? Kick you out of your house?"
...What? Did she not know?
Ah...purity..
This is what it is...
Purity...something I could never have, something that she was as a whole.
"No, I...live on the streets. I can't afford a home. My mother isn't waking up, I was looking for someone to help me...But no one would listen.." I started, tears pooling in my eyes, however I could feel my own hollow gaze.
...
Guilt.
I felt guilty for lying to this pure, beautifully clean creature.
"You..can't?...Your mother..Don't worry! I can get brother Derrick and Reynold to help you! We'll help your mother feel all better!" She exclaimed, smiling.
I couldn't help but feel hope simmering within my chest...Why didn't I do this earlier?
"Alright...I can help you find them, if you want..." I couldn't help but whisper. That was my initial intention; help her, get access to the Dukedom, have Duke Eckhart take me in, and that would be the end of my suffering.
Everything was going according to plan, despite the sudden display of affection.
She grabbed my hand, her soft, clean flesh gripping my cold, dirty, black, excruciatingly cold one.
She didn't complain, she didn't look disgusted.
She looked at me with...what is that..pity? hope?
I followed her.
. . .
Eventually we found the two children. Derrick looked panicked, more so than Reynold.
As soon as the two caught sight of Yvonne, their panic switched immediately to relief.
"Yvonne! You're alright!"
Derrick yelled, immediately running over to her, Reynold following close behind.
Yvonne let go of my hand, running towards her two brothers.
They hugged, talked, reconciled, but then Yvonne turned to me, as if remembering I was there.
"Who is that rat, Yvonne?" Reynold asked, his tone the usual; arrogant, slightly aggressive.
"Don't say that, brother Reynold!" Yvonne said defensively. She grabbed my arm and shoved me forward. "Brothers, she needs help! Look, she's so dirty and wounded! She said her mother was sick too! We need to help her!"
Her wording was blunt, in all honesty. However I suppose that was the catch to naïve innocence.
"Yvonne..we can't help random people you find on the street.." Derrick said, trying not to sigh, avoiding looking at me.
Ha...Penelope...is this what you had to go through?
After a little more bickering they listened.
They got a carriage and brought me with them to the large residence.
Duke Eckharts POV:
I was sitting in my study. It was inconveniently late and the load of paperwork on my desk never once seemed to decrease all day.
The children were likely asleep right now. Even so, I should chec-
BANG
The door slammed open, and in walked Fennel, breathless, slightly stressed.
"Your Grace...It appears the children snuck out to the festival and-"
I stiffened. Snuck out?
"Snuck out? Are the guards truly so incompetent?! Send for a carriage, a few of my personal guards, I will-"
"Your Grace, they have returned!"
"...Ah..So what is the panic for..?"
"The young lady has brought with her a...rat from the streets. She seems rather persistent the child and her mother are treated."
I sighed.
Yvonne..
Sweet, innocent Yvonne....
. . .
As I entered the hall near the entrance of the estate, there stood Derrick composed as usual, Reynold glaring daggers at the child, Yvonne tightly grasping the childs arm, and the child herself.
She was a small, scrawny little girl. Her dark pink hair were nothing short of messy and tangles, and her skin appeared rough and bruised. But most of all...her eyes were strange. They were hollow, empty, as if her soul itself had been pulled out of her body.
Upon questioning, I came to know her mother had deceased, and she had not a penny to help her.
...
Pity.
I felt pity for this child.
I had the doctor treat her, and hosted a proper funeral for the small child's mother.
"Would you like a home, child?"
I foolishly asked her.
I took this pitiful child in.
"Penelope."
That was her name.
"Penelope Eckhart."
Yvonne was nothing short of pleased, "Now we can play together, and I can make your hair, and we can go buy dresses!"
Reynold and Derrick kept their distances however.
. . .
They'll accept it sooner or later.
I had thought.