*I build an academy motif!*
The cold smell of metal lingered in the air. The bells of the Temple rang out in the distance, faintly, as if mixed with the wind and Angelica Emmanuel's slowing heartbeat.
She lay on the white stone floor, her blue ceremonial dress soaked in blood. The light from the magic circle paintings on the ceiling shone down, trembling as if about to die. Each breath became heavy and painful, and her cold hands no longer had the strength to lift themselves up.
A figure knelt before her.
Estelle. Her closest servant. The sister she had trusted so much that she had given her life.
That beautiful face was now distorted with a smile that Angelica found more piercing than a knife.
"Forgive me, my lady. But your destiny… is too brilliant. You should not have been born into this world."
Estelle's voice rang out as lightly as the spring breeze. That was the most painful thing—she was still gentle, as she had been all these years, even as her hand poured poison into Angelica's mouth.
Not the raw betrayal.
Not the power.
But the fanaticism.
Angelica swallowed the thick black liquid in despair. Her throat burned. The magic in her body shattered like thin glass.
"Why…?" her voice was almost inaudible. "I have always treated you well… Estelle…"
The servant bent down, his fingers stroking her sweat-soaked face, very lightly.
"That is why, Holy Maiden. Your light… robs a mortal like me of reason."
Angelica wanted to laugh. She couldn't. Everything was slipping away from her so fast that she forced out tears.
Her body trembled. Her vision blurred.
And then—the sky.
Right above the ceiling of the Sanctuary, through the large open door, the sky was clear. Not a cloud in sight. Not a trace of mist. A blue that was gentler than the original magic power.
A gift to the dying.
She had never seen such a beautiful sky before.
She didn't even believe that such a blue existed here.
Angelica hiccupped slightly, her hands outstretched as if to touch that light.
"So beautiful…"
Estelle stepped back as the light gradually ate into Angelica's body, the last of the Saint's magic power unconsciously pouring out from her stopped heart.
Her body dissolved in a thin stream of light like broken crystal.
"I will return."
A voice somewhere whispered to her.
Then everything fell into darkness.
_______________
She woke up crying.
"… Alyssa! Alyssa, are you awake? It's me, it's me…!"
Her throat was sore. Her head was heavy as a rock. Her eyelids trembled as she opened them with difficulty. The first thing she saw was a low ceiling with a few stains, completely unlike the Great Temple she was familiar with.
A pungent herbal medicine smell wafted up.
Angelica—or rather, this body—was lying in a small room with flickering candlelight. The mattress was so soft that it sank her body into it. Someone's hand was tightly holding hers, trembling violently.
"Mother…?"
Her voice was small and soft like that of a child.
The woman in front of her burst into tears.
It was a noble lady with thin golden hair, a face full of dark circles but still elegantly beautiful. She hugged her, holding her tightly as if afraid she would disappear.
"Alyssa, you scared me to death…"
That name—Alyssa—hit her mind like a blink of an eye that changed the world. Memories that did not belong to her flooded in like a flood: the days of illness, the times of being teased for her small figure, a weak body that had never controlled a single ray of magical power.
Alyssa Catherine. 14 years old. The youngest daughter of the Catherine family, a military noble of the Silverhorn Empire.
And this place…
It was 20 years after Angelica Emmanuel died.
Angelica took a deep breath, clearly feeling her small chest heaving. She was once strong. She had commanded an entire magical team. She had been called "the chosen one" by the sky spirits.
And now, she could not even lift her arms.
A wave of dizziness swept through her, pulling her back to reality.
"Mother…" Her voice trembled. "I… am fine."
Lady Winchester Catherine cried even harder.
"I am fine?! You have been feverish for three days and three nights, and your body is so weak that the doctor said you don't know if you will survive! Alyssa, don't scare me anymore…"
Angelica was silent. Those words were not directed at her, but at the real Alyssa. The little girl was dead.
She gently held her mother's hand, though her strength was so weak that she could barely feel it.
"…I will try."
She held her for a while longer and then left the room to call the doctor. When the door closed, the room became quiet.
Only then did Angelica let out a long breath.
A small body. A small voice. Almost 0 magical power.
And a soul that did not belong to this child was inside.
She was reborn. Completely.
She turned from the blanket, trying to stand up. Her legs felt like jelly, making her stumble and cling to the wardrobe.
"...It's terrible."
For the first time in her life, Angelica felt like she was really in the body of a 14-year-old child.
Suddenly, she was 1m66 tall and strong, now she was only 1m57. Her arms and legs were tiny. Her hair was so white that it shone under the light.
This was truly a test from God.
It took her a few minutes to stand up, walking step by step to the window. And when she pulled the curtains open, she held her breath.
The sky.
The same sky—
the crystal blue that made her heart ache with every beat.
The crescent moon covered her hair, making the white color seem like it was covered with a thin layer of mist. The night wind blew, gently lifting the strands of hair, making her feel so light that she could melt into the air.
I've seen this sky before.
Before I died.
A slight vibration reached her ears. Not wind. Not an illusion.
"…We found him."
Angelica looked around in shock. No one was in the room. But the sound clearly rang out right next to her ear.
"Saintess of the Sky."
The magical power within her—though weak—tingled as if it had been activated. A thread-like light fell from the sky, touching her palm.
She recognized it immediately.
It was the energy of the spirit of the sky, even if it was just a tiny remnant.
Alyssa's body trembled, unable to bear this force, but Angelica's soul was all too familiar.
She closed her eyes, whispering,
"I… have returned."
The light vanished as if it had never existed. But the air in the room still retained a strange warmth.
Angelica turned away from the window, her green eyes shining in the darkness.