"The past is never dead. It's not even past."
A wiseman once said, fate is but a folly and destiny—an excuse.
Finality is simply a means to an end, like a cemetery of forgotten tales; fools who relent the direction of their lives to belief often dig their own graves.
『"There are no second chances in life, except to feel remorse."』
But when your feet are sunk deep in thorns, and your roots tangled in mud, a lotus must bloom—even if its petals are forever stained.
.
.
.
Nerina began to take a stroll –a walk upon that familliar garden, staring at the faint glow of the system panel before her.
The words lingered, hanging in the air like a noose tightening around her neck.
[Additional Condition: Key individuals have regressed alongside the Hero.]
[Details: Evelyn Arkwright, Roselyn Ashbourne and Lyra Veyl will retain their memories from the previous timeline.]
[Note: The Hero's memories will awaken at the age of 18.]
Her stomach churned as she reread the paragraph and dreaded the obvious outcome.
Evelyn… She couldn't stop the image of Evelyn's piercing gaze from flashing in her mind —the coldness, the fear, the ruthless determination that came after their friendship shattered in the past timeline.
Nerina's hands trembled as she clasped them tightly unto her lap, biting down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
It wasn't just Evelyn. There were two others. Two more people who would remember everything, every atrocity she comitted.
The girl's chest ached as a sob threatened to escape her throat... but she swallowed it down, forcing herself to think rationally.
This wasn't just a punishment—It was a trap.
The system was ensuring that no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to change —those who knew her as the villain would never allow her to.
They'll be watching me from the start... Nerina thought bitterly.
I'll never have a chance to show them I'm different.
Her mind raced as the reality of her situation sank in. They would suspect her of manipulation the moment she did anything kind.
They'd view her every action with suspicion, every smile as a mask.
And eventually, they would come together to destroy her—just as they did before.
Lost in the damnation of her ever sinking abyss of fate, nerina's feet dragged her across the flowers to that ever familliar corner.
Sure enough, there it stood —that makeshift memorial, marble carved by her own flawed blade and the words etched with a a crying child's trembling fingers.
It seems that evelyn had not change anything...
For that life changing canon event had been left to its machinations — and nerina hated it.
She despised both herself for angering at her friend's rational decision... and at the same time cursed the fact that no one indeed went above and beyond for her —not even once.
Evelyn had been given a chance, one tiny difference could've changed all of their lives — but clearly, that was a luxury nerina was never meant to afford.
Perhaps some things are not meant to be changed, her role was meant to be fulfilled in this theatre drama —and she would not be allowed to leave the stage otherwise.
The girl's nails dug into her palms as she fought the rising despair.
Nerina wanted to scream, to cry out at the unfairness of it all—but she couldn't. Not here.
Not now.
And yet— as the suffocating weight threatened to crush her, the system's last note echoed in her mind like a faint glimmer of light in the darkness:
[The Hero's memories will awaken at the age of 18.]
A hitched breath escaped her lips as she clung to the words, her mind latching onto the small reprieve they offered.
Her brother wouldn't remember. Not yet.
Tears welled in her eyes again, atleast this time —they weren't entirely born of despair.
With a hand pressed to her chest, feeling that faint flutter of hope beneath the storm of her emotions.
He won't know who I really am—not for years, she thought. There's still time.
She could still spend these years with him, even if it was fleeting.
Nerina could make up for her regrets even if she knew it would all come crashing down when he finally remembered, she could still hold onto these moments.
And there was more, her awakening this time had come much earlier.
She was only six years old—half the time it had taken in the previous timeline.
That meant there was more time to plan and prepare, to be with those she cared about.
Her lips trembled as she whispered to herself.
"Evelyn will despise me, but… maybe I can still spend time with her before everything falls apart."
The thought gave her a small sense of purpose, even as the weight of the system's demands pressed down on her.
This time— she swore;
I'll make sure to give them something worth remembering.
"Even if they never trust me again."
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and stood, her legs shaky but steadying with each step she took.
The way back to the mannor was quiet, another memento of that emptiness she embraced as a reminder to never hope again.
But could one ever blame a child for growing thorns?
—should they be condemned for festering venom when they've been thrown in the river and left to drown before learning to walk?
Instinctively, Nerina walked over to the balcony window and gazed at the quiet village.
The system might have robbed her of a true second chance, but it hadn't taken everything.
Not completely.
She placed a hand on the windowpane, her reflection staring back at her.
Nerina could still see those cold crimson eyes bathed in blood and ashes —flames becoming her veil as she wore a heartless smirk amidst it all without guilt.
Eventually, that part of her would come back.
But for now, she had time—time to be the sister she wanted to be, to be the friend she wished she could've been.
The future loomed over her like a dark veil, the shadow of it's inevitabilty marked her future as bleak— but she wasn't going to let it swallow her whole.
Not yet.