『 Elysium 』

  Ambrosia stared ahead… brown eyes reflected back as her own self, one so different from the self she was used to now, stared back from the mirror. Five years had gone by since she had woken up from the dream.

  At first, she had wondered what the point of the illusion Hypnos had trapped the three of them into. However, she was now able to understand the sheer destructiveness and the masterstroke that his plan and power were.

  “My story is changing. Completely.”

  Currently, she was clad in expensive clothes she should have never managed to wear in this period of time. Maids and servants were taking care of her and adjusting her beautiful dress.

  Her brown eyes were squinted as they admired her new form with relish— that of a young lady from a relatively wealthy family.

  In this new story, she never made any contact with Asmodeus, and as such, she never learned magic or grew to be a witch. The Cardinal Witch of the Center did not exist in this story.

  She never went on an adventure. Nor did she get captured by slave traders and thrown in the Coliseum. Consequently, this turn of events resulted in her never meeting Anubis either.

  She was living… just a mundane, ordinary life of a wealthy noble’s daughter with little to herself but her ordinary beauty. A life with no curse. A life with no pain. A life where she was loved endlessly by everyone surrounding her and appreciated just for her existence alone.

  This was not just a mere illusion or a standard dream. This was an entire alternate reality created to change the very person trapped in its clutches. To rewire them and their stories into different individuals. To recast their stories into forms that were entirely plausible in their timeline and lives. A story that had all the reasons to occur when taking into account the possibilities that existed for an individual and their surrounding environment and relations. It was a complicated weaving of a tapestry that made one lose and forget their own self and accept the fabric of reality created for them in this realm. And that… made this realm extremely dangerous.

  “He is rewriting the present by changing the past. He is changing my very foundation. Impressive.”

  Divine authority was simply incredible— this realm was the living proof of that statement. Her moments of clarity were becoming few and far between, and she had a feeling that once she accepted this new reality as her own, she would immediately face a terrible backlash in the real world and possibly lose most of the power that she had accumulated through her life. Perhaps, she would even lose her demigodhood.

  From the Duke Realm, where one realized their own Truth, to the King Realm, where the individual found their True Name, and finally the Demigod Realm… a stage where you needed to discover a concept that resonated with your existence, Truth, and Name— follow it, capture it, and wield it.

  All those steps were deeply linked to an individual’s sense of self, and what created this sense of self were the experiences and memories that said individual accumulated through their life. The ingredients that shaped their existence and cemented it upon this world.

  “I need to wake up.” Ambrosia kept muttering while ignoring the strange look she received from the servants. Getting embarrassed by their looks would mean she acknowledged their reality, their existence. That, in turn, would bring her deeper into the dream, deeper into this alternate reality, and block every route of her breaking through this realm.

  “Milady Ana, it’s time for dinner.”

  Ambrosia, no, Ana sighed. A part of her wished to rebel, to leave this place and find a way out. But…. Just why did she need to rebel? Life was beautiful as it was. Truly perfect.

  Her eyes became unfocused as she followed the maid and joined her new family.

  Looking at them, she could not help but smile genuinely.

  “Ana, how have you been?” A gentle father who hugged her in his warm and protective arms.

  “Ana, come take a seat beside your mother.” A beautiful mother who loved her with all the gentleness and care in the world.

  “Ana! Take a look, I made a new scarf.” A sickly but kind little sister who followed her everywhere with stars in her eyes.

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  “Ana. You need to eat more and train.” A stupid but helplessly lovable big brother who doted on her with irresistible affection.

  She spent the entire night enjoying the dinner in the presence of her loving family. She laughed and joked around, never a moment of dulness washed over her as she reveled in their very presence.

  Truly, those were beautiful moments. Knowing that this could have been a possible future for her made the pain that much mortifying.

  But it didn’t have to be a possibility. She simply had to accept it.

  At the end of the dinner, Ana sat near the hearth by the chimney, lazily gazing at the dancing flames of warmth and danger.

  Her father was telling a story, but her mind filtered the words out as her eyes locked in on the calm sway of the flames. Memories of her past filled her mind. A past that was so different from the one she was experiencing now.

  “Ana. What is the matter?” Her mother asked in a worried tone, and she replied in a soft voice. “I was thinking about my biological parents.”

  “Oh, Ana. Forget about them. You do not have to care about that sad past anymore, dear.” She was once again hugged by her gentle and loving mother.

  “Sad, huh?” Ana muttered, then chuckled.

  “Did you know? Rather than something like Lust. The two emotions that filled my heart were Hatred and Jealousy.”

  She looked up, “For me, the small house I lived in was the whole universe, and the parents who created me were basically gods. Getting beaten was my reality. Getting cursed was a matter of course and a blessing. That’s why I never complained. After all. It was normal to be mistreated. Of course, now, I can say confidently that they were nothing but pure trash.”

  “Parents losing control of their anger and striking me. Throwing bottles at me or kicking me when they were in a bad mood. I thought all of this was normal. Accepted it as normal. I might have lived like that my whole life, but fire and smoke had changed my destiny. Was it an accident? Or simply an inevitability? A discarded cigarette wasn’t properly put out, and an all-consuming fire rose from its ashes. Burning everything on its path. Even my parents. But miraculously, I survived.”

  She started laughing. A hysterical laughter that lacked mirth.

  “Ana, it’s enough, you don’t have to recount your past to us, please.”

  She ignored their pleading and even… their existence as she continued, “After the fire, I wandered the slum for a while before being taken to an orphanage. But… that place wasn’t much different from my household either. The children around me had no parents, and most had experienced abuse like me. So I thought everyone was like me. Somehow, that knowledge actually made me genuinely happy. Happy that I wasn’t all alone in this world, suffering.”

  Ana stood up, pushing away the hands trying to stop her.

  “One day, I went to the main town while begging, and then my world broke apart.”

  She started approaching the fire with steady, measured steps. Each pad of her feet echoed her resolve and determination.

  “They were people like me, or so I thought. But the truth was different. I saw it. A child throwing a tantrum for a gift. Far from getting angry and throwing punches, the parents soothed the child and walked along with him. What I saw was there… was love.

  “From that day on, everything changed. I felt dissatisfied with everything. It felt unfair. I never complained in the past because I thought there was nothing to complain, that it was totally normal, that my life was normal. Because… I thought everyone was unhappy like me. Poor and hungry, everyone should have been like that.

  “But that wasn’t the case. Many people were like me. But even more people were happier than me. My parents and the parents I saw that day were different. Why? Why were they different? What was so great about those children? Why could that child smile while I was begging for food? What did I ever do wrong?”

  Only a few paces separated the hearth and her now…

  “That day, I realized a profound truth about this universe. We are not born equal. I did nothing wrong. It’s just the world that was wrong, and as such, the very world should burn to cinders, ash, and smoke… just like my parents.”

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  Fissures broke the space surrounding her, twisting it into hideous amalgamations. The house started fragmenting into pieces as reality and dreams melded, the people housing it, surrounding it, hugging her, loving her, blurrier than a hazy dream…

  “Ana! Stop, it’s dangerous!”

  She ignored them as her hand reached for the growing fire.

  “Dangerous? Haha! Did you know? My innate magic. The first sorcery I learned after becoming a witch was none other than Fire magic.”

  Out of all magics, elemental magic was considered to be of the lowest level. Most witches strived to learn higher conceptual ones.

  But even someone as strong as Ambrosia had a humble beginning, and that was none other than fire.

  “Flames can never hurt me! Only aid and complete me!!!”

  Her hand plunged deep into the fire. Her pristine hand showed no signs of burns even as the hearth crackled like molten lava…

  Crack!!!

  You wake up from a— Whoosh!!

  Golden flames sparked from her hand, wreathed in the flames of the hearth right that instant, devouring the entire dream and the realm isolating her in a heartbeat.

  The elegant home, the loving family, the warmth of laughter and comfort— all of it went up in the golden fires of her most intimate magic. The walls melted into light, the ceiling dissolved into the void, and the smiling faces of her family warped into static silhouettes that screamed as they fragmented and burned away, cindered to ash and smoke just like Ambrosia’s real parents.

  ANA!! A guttural voice reached her as the illusions started burning away.

  “My name is Ambrosia, not Ana. It’s a name I chose for myself. You cannot deny it. I will not allow you to deny it any longer!!!”

  YOU CANNOT USE MAGIC!!!

  “Fire is my blood, and magic is my body. You cannot erase it. You can never erase what holds my very existence without erasing me first.”

  WHY! WHY FIGHT AGAINST SUCH A BEAUTIFUL DREAM!?

  “Simple…” Her form changed. She grew taller, fuller. Her long, lustrous black hair gleamed under the light of the fire while her golden eyes shone like the burning smolders of the very sun itself.

  “I already have a family. One I would replace for nothing in the world.”

  ? Avatar -::- Akasha ?

  The Book of Akasha appeared above her. Pages flew, showing the images of different witches until they settled on one.

  Ambrosia herself.

  “Remember this, Hypnos. Only I can determine the start and end of my Story. Not the Goddesses, nor Fate, nor even Asmodeus, and certainly not the insignificant you!”

  Thus, the world was reduced to ashes, and Ambrosia stood amidst its burning cinders, of ash, and smoke, and… chaos… of the very embodiments that declared her existence.

  Fire and Smoke. Ash and Destruction. Hatred and Wrath.

  That is… Ambrosia.