Chapter 34: Chapter 34: I Don’t Know Who I Am Anymore
In the ritual circle, the last stubborn flames had finally surrendered. Their dying embers curled into ash that dissolved into the fog, leaving only faint heat ghosts on the scorched earth.
The air was heavy, thick with the metallic scent of spilled power and something older — something that felt like memory itself had been disturbed.
Only faint moonlight pierced the dense fog above, spilling through in fractured beams that turned the entire clearing into something unreal.
The ritual markings on the ground glowed faintly beneath the haze, like veins of silvered blood running through stone. Everything shimmered in an ethereal glow that made it hard to tell where reality ended and illusion began.
Celestia sat cross-legged on the marked earth, hands resting loosely on her knees. Her eyes were closed, but she was far from at rest.
Inside her mind, everything was breaking apart.
Silver spires piercing endless night skies.
The crushing weight of something vast — too vast for a single mind to carry.
A scream that wasn’t just pain, but defiance.
And then falling. Endless falling through a void that swallowed even light.
She inhaled sharply.
Another memory surfaced without permission — a hand reaching for hers. Warm. Desperate. Familiar.
Her breath hitched.
Each fragment struck like waves against a cracking shore. Not sharp enough to destroy her, but enough to wear her down, piece by piece. A dull throbbing built behind her eyes, equal parts awe and grief.
What kind of person was I really?
That question no longer felt philosophical. It felt dangerous.
Something inside her was trying to remember too quickly... and something else was trying to stop it.
Across the circle, Drazeil stood like a shadow carved into reality. He did not move. Did not speak. His sharp gaze cut through the fog, scanning every shift in the mist. His blade remained half-drawn, refusing to commit to either peace or violence.
He was still.
Not comforting.
Not gentle.
Just present.
And somehow, that made it slightly easier for her to breathe.
Time blurred. Seconds lost meaning. Even the fog seemed suspended, waiting.
Finally, Celestia exhaled shakily.
"Drazeil..."
His eyes shifted toward her immediately. "Yes?"
"Can I have a hug?"
The silence that followed was instant.
"No."
The answer came so quickly it almost sounded rehearsed.
Celestia blinked. For a moment she searched for her usual sarcasm, but it didn’t come. Instead, her gaze dropped.
"I don’t know who I am anymore," she admitted quietly.
The words surprised even her.
A hollow laugh followed, but there was no humor in it. "Yesterday I was just trying to survive a carriage attack. Today I’m apparently some ancient celestial being who might have broken the world."
Drazeil said nothing. He didn’t know how to react to all what she was telling him.
Celestia swallowed hard. "What if they’re right? What if I really did fall because I deserved it?"
The fog around them seemed to thicken, pressing closer as if listening.
Silence stretched.
Then Drazeil took one step forward.
"If you were what they claim..." His voice was low, rough. "...then you wouldn’t be asking that question."
Celestia blinked. Something in her chest loosened.
"That wasn’t really an answer," she muttered.
"It’s the only one you’re getting."
A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Then hope flickered back into her eyes.
"So..."
"No."
"Zeillll."
"Argh, that name again", Drazeil thought, there was just something about the particular way she stretched it but his answer still remained;
"No."
Her shoulders slumped dramatically. "Please? Just one. I feel like I’m still falling."
He didn’t move.
So she escalated.
Celestia’s eyes welled up with exaggerated, theatrical tears. Her lip trembled perfectly as she gave him the most pitiful expression she could summon.
A single tear slid down her cheek with suspicious precision.
Drazeil stared. Something in his chest tightened. He stepped forward and brushed the tear from her cheek with unexpected gentleness.
"Would you hug me now?" she asked softly.
Another sigh. "Yes. But it shouldn’t be long."
Celestia’s face lit up. She stood quickly and stepped into him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
The contact was immediate — warm, real. His body was firm and cool against hers, rigid with restraint. But the moment she leaned in, the shaking inside her chest finally quieted.
Drazeil’s hands hovered for a moment before settling lightly against her back.
Celestia pressed her cheek to his chest, inhaling his dark, metallic scent. It should have been unsettling. Instead, it anchored her.
For Drazeil, it was something far more dangerous. Too close. Too warm. Her strawberry scent became so much strong and sweet, Drazeil couldn’t deny the fact that he liked it so much. The vampire in him stirred sharply at the pulse in her neck.
"Celestia," he said slowly. "You have to let go now."
She didn’t. Instead, she hugged him tighter.
"You know," she murmured cheerfully against his chest, "in my world, when I was sad, I used to hug my dog."
Silence.
"I’m not your dog."
He tried to step back, but her arms stayed locked.
"Celestia. Now."
He was at the edge of control when a voice cleared loudly from the edge of the circle.
Celestia didn’t release him immediately. She only turned her head while staying pressed against his chest.
A nervous villager stood there. "The elder... She has rethought everything. It is not how we should treat honored guests. I’ve been assigned to lead you to proper lodging. Clothes, food, necessities — all prepared. Including your box, miss."
"My coachman?" Celestia asked.
"He is resting safely."
Drazeil gave her a sharp, burning look. Only then did she release him, though not without one last playful squeeze.
"Just for a little longer..." she whispered mischievously. "You smell so gooddd."
They followed the villagers through the winding, fog-covered paths.
Villagers silently pressed bundles into their arms — fresh clothes, warm bread, steaming stew, roasted vegetables, and herbal wine.
Celestia clutched her box tightly.
The cot they were led to was modest but warm. The villager hesitated, then opened the door.
Inside was one large bed.
Celestia blinked.
Drazeil did not.
"...Only one bed?" he asked flatly.
