Kiel''s Perspective:
Great... I never really thought my life would be flashing before my eyes like this. They say it''s a once-in-a-lifetime experience everyone has before dying—a vivid replay of the life they lived. But for better or worse, at least they get to relive their past experiences.
But for me? It''s not the first time.
Looking back at my actions, I can admit it—I might’ve gone too far. But you have to understand, this village wasn’t just a place to me. It was my family. My mother never got the chance to raise me; she died the day I was born. And my father... let’s just say he vanished during the Cold War, leaving nothing behind except a few bitter memories and a cryptic parting order: “Go South-West of here. You’ll be safe there in the village.”
I didn’t know what he meant at the time, but when I had nowhere else to turn, I clung to those words like a lifeline. The journey to the village was nothing short of grueling—a six-month ride on a rattling carriage, bouncing over uneven roads that seemed to stretch into eternity. There were days when I wondered if it even existed or if my father’s words were just a cruel joke.
But when I arrived, it was like stepping into a dream. The village of Celestine sat nestled among rolling hills, cradled by dense forests that seemed alive with whispers of the wind. Rivers wove like silver ribbons through the landscape, their waters so clear you could see every pebble beneath the surface. And then there was the coast—the endless expanse of the Celestine Sea, its waves crashing against the shore in a symphony of strength and serenity. It was the kind of place you’d imagine only existed in fairy tales.
For someone like me, who had spent his whole life surrounded by strangers in Asura, arriving in Celestine was overwhelming. The village chief, a shrewd yet kind man, took me in. He didn’t outright demand that I work, but his subtle hints weren’t hard to catch. A raised eyebrow here, a lingering glance at the farm tools there—I got the message.
So, I worked. I plowed fields, mended fences, and did whatever odd jobs needed doing to earn my keep. At first, it felt like just another form of survival, another way to scrape by. But over time, something changed. The people in the village, with their easy smiles and quiet acceptance, started to feel less like strangers and more like... something I had been missing all along.
Still, life wasn’t perfect. It was never going to be perfect for someone like me. But compared to the things I had endured to get here, the struggles of village life felt almost trivial. At least, that’s what I told myself as an 11-year-old.
It was a strange feeling, being surrounded by people but still so alone. I tried to talk to the other kids in the village, maybe make a friend or two, but they always turned away, uninterested. To be honest, I couldn’t blame them. A random stranger showing up one day, with no history, no connection to anyone—it’s hard to expect anyone to reach out.
Days went by, and my only good old friend was me and my book. A few months later, the harvest festival arrived. It was a time when all the crops of the year would be gathered, and the most notable of them was the Eteris plant. They said it could be eaten raw or cooked, but the real value of the Eteris was that it never rotted. No matter how much time passed, it remained fresh, making it a perfect agricultural product for trade and use.
I never really cared much for the festival or its crops. My mind was always elsewhere, buried deep in the pages of history books.
History… there was a certain magic in it that captivated me. It was more than just dates and facts. It was the stories—the lives of real people who dreamed, struggled, and overcame obstacles, much like we do today.
There was one story in particular that I always thought about. A story from five hundred years ago—one that shaped everything.
"The World''s End… That’s what we called it, because it nearly was. Five hundred years ago, the Queen of Curses and the Heavenly Sorcerer, the Chosen Mage of the Heavens, brought us to the brink of annihilation. Together, they ravaged the land, and in just a few short years, they destroyed over seventy percent of the world. Entire nations were wiped out, cities burned to the ground, and the very sky itself seemed to crack under the weight of their power. We were helpless in the face of their power."
"It felt like the end of everything—our people, our history, our future. Nothing could stand against them. But then... there came a legend. Marseille Astraeus. A solitary warrior, his sword glowing with a fierce blue light. He was the one who dared to defy the darkness, the only soul unyielding enough to stand against them."
"With a strength no one had ever seen, he fought both the Queen of Curses and the Heavenly Sorcerer alone, ending the war that would have consumed everything. He saved what was left of mankind. Without him, there would be nothing but ruin. The world we live in today exists because of his sacrifice."
As I sat in the quiet of the night, the distant chirping of crickets filled the air, and the moon cast a soft glow over the ranch. The world around me seemed so peaceful, so far removed from the chaos of history I had just relived in my mind. Alone, I could almost feel the weight of my thoughts pressing in, wondering if I would ever have the chance to make a difference, like Marseille.
“Kiel!? What are you doing here alone at night?”
The voice startled me, and I turned to see the village chief approaching. His broad, friendly face was illuminated by the light of the lantern in his hand.
“Oh, sir! I was just… having fun, reading,” I stammered, trying to brush off the seriousness of my thoughts.
“Well… it seemed like you were talking to someone,” the chief said with a raised brow, his tone full of curiosity.
I quickly shook my head, trying to deflect. “Oh, it was nothing like that!”
He chuckled softly, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes. “Anyways, Kiel. Come with me to the Harvest Festival.”
I hesitated, unsure of what to say. “I… um…”
“What? You don’t want to come?” the chief asked, his voice more teasing now.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
I shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the ground. “Mr. Chief, sir, I don’t really have any reasons to get involved there.”
He tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean by that?”
I sighed, feeling the words weigh on me. “I’m just an outcast here in your village, Mr. Chief. I soon realized that everyone here lives and cares for each other—almost like a family. I don’t want to be the one to interfere in their bonding.”
Before I could finish, the village chief’s hand came down sharply on my head with a slap that made my ears ring. “You don’t have to worry about any of that!” he said loudly, his voice filled with warmth and a touch of sternness.
I rubbed my head, still a bit stunned. “I…”
“I’ll be going now. Come by in a few minutes, or I’ll send some of the kids to drag you there,” he said with a wink before turning and walking off.
As I watched him leave, a single thought echoed in my mind. “Huh, as if someone is capable of convincing me to do anything…”
A few minutes went by, and once again, I was completely alone. Seems like the Chief didn’t really care to send anyone after all. Great, I had gotten my hopes up for nothing.
“Hey, that looks like an interesting book! What’re you reading?”
The sudden voice startled me, and I quickly snapped my head around.
“It’s about the historic war that happened 500 years ago—wait, who the hell are you?!”
“Aw, hey! That’s not a nice way to talk to someone!” chirped a small girl standing behind me. She had brown hair and these odd brownish-grey eyes that almost seemed to sparkle. She was wearing a cute, simple dress, its light blue fabric swaying slightly in the night breeze. The dress had delicate white lace along the edges, giving it a playful yet elegant touch that suited her perfectly.
A small ribbon was tied neatly around her waist, adding a charming accent to her outfit. But her hands were on her hips like she was about to lecture me. Probably the person the Chief sent.
“That still doesn’t answer my question.”
She puffed out her chest, slamming a fist proudly against it. “Well, for now, I’m nameless! But you can call me Lia!”
“...Nameless?” I raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a work in progress,” she said seriously. “Anyway, what’s your name?”
I hesitated but gave in. “I guess you can call me Kiel.”
“Okay, Kiel! Let’s go to the festival now!” She grabbed my shirt and tugged, trying to pull me along.
I stepped out of her grip easily. “Yeah, no. I don’t want to go.”
“What?! Why?! Are you sick or something?” She leaned in so close I thought she was about to check my pulse.
“No! It’s not like that,” I said, stepping back, trying to keep my dignity intact.
“Ohhh, I get it now,” she said, nodding with the seriousness of someone solving a grand mystery.
“Thank you for finally getting it!” I said, relieved for about half a second.
“You’re really, really shy!” she declared with a wide grin, looking way too proud of herself.
“It’s NOTHING like that!” I yelled, my face probably redder than an overripe tomato.
“You know,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “for someone who’s ‘not shy,’ you sure sound like it!”
I groaned, which only made her giggle. “Okay, fine, I’m a little shy. Happy?”
“Very!” she said with a cheerful clap. “Admitting it is the first step!”
This girl was impossible. But somehow, I wasn’t mad about it.
“Don’t worry, Kiel. I’ll help you!” She patted my shoulder like she was comforting me.
“Wait. How old are you again?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“Mommy told me not to tell strangers my age!” she declared.
“So now I’m a stranger? You’re the one who started talking to me! And you’re like, what—six years old?”
“I’M NOT SIX!” she yelled, stamping her foot. “I’m eight! Eight whole years!”
“Wow, impressive,” I said dryly. “But I still don’t care. Just leave me alone and tell the Chief you failed to get me.”
She tilted her head, her brownish-gray eyes blinking innocently. “Why would I say that to the Chief?”
“Uh, because he sent you to get me?”
Her face lit up, and she giggled like I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. “Oh no! He was going to send Ronan and the others to get you. I just came here on my own!”
I blinked, my brain struggling to process her words. “Wait. So nobody actually told you to come check on me?”
“Nope!” she chirped. “I overheard the Chief saying you were alone near the ranch, and I thought, ‘That’s so sad!’ So I came to see you!” She struck a “heroic” pose, hands on her hips, chest puffed out like she’d just saved the day.
I stared at her, baffled. “So… you’re here for no reason.”
“No, silly! I’m here to take you to the festival!” she declared, her grin so bright it could’ve lit up the night. “Being alone sucks, so I wanted to make sure you could enjoy the time with everyone in the village.”
Her smile softened, and she clasped her hands behind her back, swaying a little as she spoke. “Also, nobody has to tell me to help. I just like making people happy. That’s all!”
There was something about the way she said it—so simple, so genuine—that it made my chest ache a little. For a moment, I forgot how annoyed I was. How could someone so small, so young, be this kind? This thoughtful?
I looked away, trying to hide the lump forming in my throat. “You’re a weird kid, you know that?”
She giggled again, clasping her hands behind her back. “Maybe! But at least I’m not alone!”
"Oh wow... Coming back to insult me now? But I’m sorry, I won’t be able to go there."
"But why?!" she exclaimed, tilting her head like I’d just said something ridiculous. "It’s the one time of year we’re all supposed to have fun together!"
"Well..." I hesitated, lowering my gaze. "I really don’t have anyone in this world anymore. So, I don’t have anyone to enjoy it with." My voice softened as memories of my parents filled my mind, their absence weighing heavier than ever.
For a moment, she stared at me, her eyes wide, then suddenly brightened. "Oh, that’s it? No biggie!" Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" I protested.
"Following my heart!" she declared with absolute confidence, dragging me along.
"We’re walking now?! I told you, I don’t want to go!"
"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time. But you’ve got me! You’re not alone anymore," she said, glancing back at me with a smile so warm it made my chest ache. "I’m your friend now, aren’t I?"
Her words froze me in place. Friend? Nobody had ever called me that before.
Before I could think of a response, she tugged harder. "C’mon, stop worrying and follow me already!"
And just like that, I found myself walking toward the festival, her small hand firmly holding mine.
By the time we reached the festival, the Chief greeted me warmly and introduced me to the entire village. Lia—well, to be more clear Celia—introduced me to her friends: Mira, Toby, Elise, Ronan, and Fiona. And just like that, out of nowhere, I had friends. For the first time, I felt like I belonged somewhere, all because of her.
Looking back now, as life flashes before my eyes, I realize how wrong I was. I thought being alone was the best way to protect others from me—that if I kept my distance, nobody would have to care, and I wouldn’t hurt anyone. But Celia proved me wrong. She showed me that even the smallest acts of kindness, given freely and without expectation, can change everything.
Over the next year or two, we grew close. She wasn’t just my friend—she was my best friend, the one person who could always make me smile. I cared about her deeply. Sure, I had other friends too. The ones she introduced me to at the festival became part of my life, but none of them reached out to me when I was at my lowest. None of them tried to break through the walls I had built. Only Celia did.
Celia was always like that—kind, selfless, and endlessly compassionate. She helped others simply because she could, with no thought of reward. It was just who she was.
She was like an angel walking among us. And yet, even angels have their trials.
I could never have imagined that just two years later, she would become the vessel for the Queen of Curses. That her resemblance to the ancient tyrant, even in the slightest, would lead people to betray her, to turn against her, to wish her harm.
They called her a monster, a reincarnation of evil, without ever looking beyond the surface. And on her birthday, the day meant to celebrate her life, they went further than I could have ever imagined.
That day… it was the turning point for everything. The day that changed both of our lives forever.