(Arc: The Pale Lady)
Awakening
The wind blew with deceptive gentleness, carrying a salty scent that mingled with the dampness of dawn. The sky, still in transition, bled into a deep crimson that slowly spread across the ocean's dark blue, as if the horizon were overflowing with light. Waves broke in a hypnotic rhythm, their foam dissolving on the shore like whispers meant never to be heard.
The beach stretched out like a desert of white marble—immaculate, untouched, without footprints, without history. Only the murmur of the sea and the soft crunch of sand shifting under the weight of something… or someone.
There, lying as a shipwrecked soul without memory, was Axel.
His body was still, but his mind began to stir, as though rising from a dream too deep to be real. The breeze caressed his face with almost maternal tenderness, and the warmth of the rising sun seeped through his skin, gradually restoring his awareness.
—Where am I…?
He opened his eyes slowly. The sky seemed vaster than ever, and the sound of the sea was so constant that, for a moment, he thought he might still be dreaming.
—So… am I dead? —he murmured, voice hoarse, barely audible. —But… everything feels so warm…
He pushed himself up with difficulty, feeling the grains of sand slip between his fingers. Each movement was a protest from his body, as if it still refused to accept that he was alive.
—I remember… or at least, I think I do. A voice… a plea…
"¡Axel Please, don't go…!"
Who was she? Why was she holding me? Why was she crying…?
Her face faded from his mind like ink dissolving in water. But the tears—those he remembered. They had fallen on his skin while it was still warm, before he turned to ash.
And then, a phrase, whispered like a spell:
"One life for another, one soul for power."
Axel fell silent, staring at his hands as if expecting an answer written on his skin.
—My name… is it Axel? That's the closest thing I have to one. Not bad. Not bad at all.
He rose to his feet with effort. The sun climbed slowly, painting the sky in golden and amber hues. In the distance, atop a hill rising like a natural altar, a white structure stood silhouetted against the light: a temple.
It was majestic, almost unreal. Its marble columns gleamed as if carved from solid light, and its shape seemed to float between the sea mist. And so, Axel began to move.
—Why not take a little look…?
He made his way toward the intriguing structure. Step by step, the imposing edifice became clearer.
The ascent was long. The stairs, carved from white stone, were covered in golden lichen that shimmered in the morning light. Each step felt older than time itself, and as he climbed, Axel sensed the world around him fading slowly—each step pulling him away from reality and drawing him closer to something… sacred.
The temple stood like a relic from another world. Its walls were adorned with faded frescoes telling forgotten tales: battles between gods, blood-sealed pacts, and humans kneeling before faceless entities. The air smelled of ancient incense, salt, and wet stone.
But what dominated the sanctuary was her
A colossal statue, carved from white marble, rose at the temple's center. It depicted a woman of serene beauty, veiled so that her face remained hidden. Despite her stillness, she seemed alive. Her posture was dignified, yet her back was turned to the world, gazing toward the ocean with silent resolve.
And on her cheek—a single, eternal tear.
One tear, sculpted with such delicacy it seemed ready to fall. A tear not of stone, but of memory.
Axel stopped before her, a knot tightening in his chest.
—A dead end —he whispered, exhaling as if it were his final breath.
Then, a soft voice, almost unreal, wrapped around him like a warm breeze.
"The end of our lives is always marked by the beginning of our freedom."
He turned slowly. A young woman emerged from the temple's shadows. Her hair was pale gold, gently curled, and her amber eyes glowed with a light not of this world. Her skin was delicate, nearly translucent, and her steps carried the grace of someone who barely touched the ground.
—Do we know each other, young lady?
—For a very long time, noble knight. How have you been, prophet? —she said, her tone eternal, as if speaking from another plane.
—You say… for a long time? Then I regret to inform you—I'm no prophet. —Her voice felt strangely familiar. —You've mistaken me for someone else.
—How could I possibly be so mistaken? I haven't even introduced myself, after all. It's been five years since ※※※※ fell, and we endured. If you still don't remember me… I am Aphrodite, your…
Axel looked at her, and for an instant, the world seemed to stop. The sea fell silent. The wind held its breath. And in Axel's heart, something shattered… or perhaps, something awakened.
—Aphrodite… why does that name… hurt?