The Knight them moved her out of its mind for a while.
It reached its fand forward. It's presence receded. Collecting on its palm.
The Laurels gasped for air.
The Knight stared at the sphere in its hand. It was not the void. It was not a power or skill. This was its presence manifest.
If it let it roam freely – many could suffocate from it.
It could not explain it. But it instinctually knew that it could control it.
'I better just conceal it – if the Laurels are having trouble – the humans below must be in shock.'
Crushed. The whisps flowed into the Knight.
It's thoughts then moved back to the situation at hand. Backster's memories were clashing with the current truth about the world.
'I feel a subtle inconsistency, because something about all this still doesn't make sense. The house of Mother looks like the ones back before I died, but that can't be right. And why is there so many of these girls here, wasn't it just one? These memories weren't stored properly in the blade. Some are blurry – many fractured and broken.
I still can't make out some of the details from the distorted future of this place. Too bad these memories didn't even contribute towards my knowledge stats – I guess they were included in the initial 105, whether I remembered or not. I wonder if she can explain.'
Careening its neck – it faced her once more. "Tell me, what happened on that night."
"Oh, please let me gather my thoughts, let's go to the living room."
The Knight followed her to the second floor. Further in, they made it to the room she spoke of. In there was a single comfy seat and two couches on each side, and on a wall was the silhouette of the Knights blade. The room was on the northern side and had a large window letting in barely any light. She pointed towards this silhouette.
"we used to put it over there. But almost all the knights that came up here wanted to hold it. So many tried and failed that we stopped displaying it alone. Once we put it next to the other shiny blades – they stopped singling it out."
'I guess that explains that influx of souls. My sword wasn't just idle all this time.'
The Knight smiled, 'I guess you're pretty [Greedy] as well aren't you, you couldn't stand to watch all those souls march right past you, after they had the audacity to try and wield you?'
For eons, the [Vile Sword] true to its nature, absorbed the souls of the knights and fools who attempted to wield it. They had not vanished; they had been stored in the inventory part of it.
She continued, "We put it in the hall to dissuade many from attempting to hold it. But we couldn't put it away from sight, because we've always hoped that one day you would return and recognise it. And even if you did not, it was the symbol for our strength, our resistance."
"Symbol?"
"Yes…"
"If these memories are right, I died an inconsequential human. My saving grace was surviving till daylight. Why would my sword be a symbol for the patrons of humanity?"
She didn't answer. "Because you saved me?"
"That I did, but it explains very little…"
She first took a seat. "Have you heard of the legend of humanity?"
"Yes – by the looks of it I surmise I'm that legend… I would have never figured I've been out for over 800 million years."
'I guess this makes me the oldest human.'
"No. I am not confused by the symbol, by my play in it. I'm confused why no human would know anything about their symbol?"
She took a seat in the chair, offering for the Knight to sit. It took a seat on one of the longer seats. Instantly – it felt a kind of reprieve only familiar to its human days. I was even more than that it felt inside Blood Fiends manor.
'I'll ask her about it later.'
"You did save me, I mean us, over eight hundred million years ago, almost a billion years ago. Another part of the legend was made by me before I became a memory. The one to wield the sword would be the hero of legend. But after some time, the s word began to make those who touch it vanish. To stop people from coming I erased any and all memories they had of it."
'I guess that was right when my soul – the spirit realms – and the void began to coincide within me – thus the sword no longer became the blade I forged – but an integrated part of me.'
The Knight ran the numbers, computing, trying to configure, trying to understand.
"But how?"
"You're telling me you have only come back two hundred years back and found no clues. By then they had been completely removed. I'm surprised you found the only story that mentioned it."
For a second the Knights mind flashed back to the spirit dome. This is where it had tacked down a being manipulating the fates of those around the Knight to guide the Knight into a specific direction.
Roon then stepped forward, she had been in charge of affairs. "So that's why we couldn't see anything from before three centuries ago, there was nothing. But tell me, what happened when you were gone?"
The others then began to agree in unison. Ingrid also asked.
"… what happened all those years?"
"I have the same question for all of you. Why is it all of you look alike, but have different names? If the sword is a symbol, then why is there no record of it or me, not even a drawing? Just what happened to this world? How did you achieve the impossible; you can somehow fight against the darkness…? The list goes on…"
Lerva then put her head back against the head rest. "I can answer them, I really just need a second to gather my thoughts really. So, Mivol will answer the simpler questions."
Mivol then stepped up. She wore a set of black long, large, and wide pants. "I'm Mivol – I'm the memory of the Laurels decisions."
All attention moved to her, even if most of them knew bits about what she was about to explain.
"we are the Laurels, keepers of the truth about the world. We all represent the memories of which we contain within us. We used to be one, but once we learned the power over memories, we split to hold different memories."
She breathed in to catch her breath. Even she was shaken by the events of today, but she had to catch the Knight to speed, so she stilled herself.
"To keep much of the population of Ouran from turning into monsters, and on the orders of hero Bivillon, we erased all traces of what this world used to be like. Written records, ancient artifacts, and eventually the memories of everyone.
The memory that had been harder to erase, the memory of which the people resisted it be lost, one that elevated people to the astonishing heights of today, is the memory of how it all began. The conquest, the venture, the hope, the truth about the legend of the first ever knight, and the first ever hero, the first ever person to not only survive the darkness but also save us – You!"