The Healer Hero, her Paladin, and the Oracle…


    With a snap of her fingers, the robed servants and Sacred Shield guards step back from Lady Mezalune. Just a little bit – they’re still close enough to intervene at a moment’s notice. The sheer vastness of the throne room becomes all the more apparent.


    The aura of ice and shadows emanating from her is nearly overwhelming – an oppressive force that chills to the bone. It doesn’t seem to control her, nor does she appear to control it. Instead, I’m sensing that it… weakens her.


    Good grief. Call it a gut feeling… but I suspect it has something to do with Eris’ request.


    “So, what can I do you for today, Little Miss Paladin!?” Lady Mezalune asks with a sly smile, suppressing a slight shiver. “Little Miss Eris has been talking to you and Little Miss Hero over there… hasn’t she?”


    “Yes. She has. And she would like her memories back,” Anna states firmly, voice steady but respectful. "She asked us to convince you to change your mind.”


    “My, my… that again?” Lady Mezalune scoffs, flicking a strand of pink hair over her shoulder. “Hmph! That Little Miss has asked me that question so many times already! And the answer is still no! No, no, no! Never!”


    She crosses her arms in a playful, girlish manner – but in doing so, she trembles ever so slightly. “Besides, she’s the one who wanted it! But you already knew that… don’t you?”


    “I do,” Anna replies without hesitation. “And she’s aware of this, Miss Mezalune. She still wants her memories back.”


    “But is she aware of what she’s asking for?” Lady Mezalune muses, tilting her head ever so slightly, her violet eyes gleaming like polished amethysts. “Like a moth to a flame… she flutters towards oblivion… naively believing it to be her salvation!”


    “It may very well be oblivion that Eris seeks,” Anna answers, unfazed by the weight of the Oracle’s piercing gaze. “But they’re her memories, for better or worse.”


    “Even if they hurt her, Little Miss? She begged me for this, you know.”


    Anna nods. “She suffers every day without them, Lady Mezalune. She misses her Manager, her Studio… everyone. And she doesn’t understand why they left her.”


    Lady Mezalune exhales slowly. “It hurts… that much is true! But is Little Miss Eris’ current state of being a fate worse than death? I ask this… considering the alternative.”


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    Anna’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”


    “When my Sacred Shield champions brought her to me, she tried to, well…”


    Lady Mezalune raises a hand, index finger drawing a sharp line across her throat.


    Anna takes a step back, eyes widening. “Why!?”


    “Because of the Demon Cult!” Lady Mezalune replies bluntly. “What they did to her in a bid to make her theirs and theirs alone…”


    The throne room seems to hush… all around us… as if holding its breath at her words.


    “On the first day of First Seed… I had a premonition of where they had taken her,” Lady Mezalune continues, folding her arms as her gaze drifts to me – piercing and knowing. “It was the same day I summoned you, Little Miss Hero. I acted as quickly as I could.”


    She turns away from us then, her gaze drifting over the opulence of her seat of power as though searching for comfort in its gilded splendour. But her tone carries no such luxury – only the weight of something old… something tired.


    “You said Little Miss Eris wants to know why her Studio isn’t in touch with her anymore?” she says, her voice laced with quiet disdain. “I’ll tell you why – the Demon Cult struck a deal with her Studio’s upper management. They sold her away for a king’s ransom of gold.”


    I exchange a glance with Anna. Good grief. In the previous timeline, this kidnapping happened a few Seeds from now. But here… it’s already over. Instead, we’re standing in the aftermath.


    How? Why!? I thought we were early, ahead of schedule, to prevent this tragedy. But then, I suppose this is… another change. For worse, I’d say.


    “Isn’t it a shame how cheaply some mortals value the lives of others? No matter. My Sacred Shield saved her from their clutches. But the others with her…” Lady Mezalune says, her voice trailing off as her eyes darken. “We were too late for them.”


    Silence hangs thick between the three of us – only for a moment, yet it stretches endlessly… like time itself has frozen in place, refusing to move forward.


    “It was then, knowing what she knew, having witnessed what she witnessed… that she wanted me to make her forget it all like it never happened. At any cost. By any means necessary,” Lady Mezalune finishes. “And so… I did exactly that!”


    “With a spell,” I murmur, the words slipping out as if piecing together a puzzle aloud. My breath catches as the realisation settles. “Shit. You… tore out her soul! That’s… necromancy!”


    “It is! Like any other spell, the Dark Arts are but another tool to serve a Conjurer''s needs!” Lady Mezalune corrects, her finger wagging as a knowing smirk tugs at her lips. “Besides, I only took a fragment of her soul! She would’ve died otherwise!”


    She continues, her tone light yet matter-of-fact. “That fragment was all I needed to strip away that part of her memories – everything before the day she was called to my side. She was meant to remember only her name, her identity... and her life in the Holy City.”


    “So that’s why she’s acting so weirdly…”


    Lady Mezalune nods, her expression unwavering. “A side effect, unfortunately! Whenever she tries to recall what’s been sealed away… the spell resists. And so, she suffers.”


    She exhales… as if dismissing any doubt. “But as I said – what I prevented was far, far worse!”


    Anna’s fists clench at her sides. “Tell me… Miss Mezalune. What did Eris forget?”


    “You wish to know, Little Miss!?” Mezalune asks rhetorically. Shadows coil and swirl into existence, black smoke twisting between her fingers. “Here’s your answer!”