Torn Perceptions

The air felt as if it had solidified.

Sunlight, refracted through the dome’s crystal, streamed silently across the ancient floor. Yet, it failed to dispel the cold, taut atmosphere that hung heavy between us.

Beatrix’s golden eyes were fixed on me, brimming with wariness and shock. A flicker of annoyance, born from her secret being exposed, also danced within their depths.

Her left hand, scarred and tightly gripping the sword hilt, showed prominent veins. It was a clear testament to the profound turmoil raging within her.

“Child of Chaos,” “Correction and Destruction Point of the World”…

Those words, etched onto the parchment, seared themselves into my mind like a red-hot branding iron.

So, this power residing within me, a force that even I found terrifying, actually had a name.

And that name, it resonated with an aura of ill omen and disaster.

“You’re… investigating me.”

I spoke, my voice unnervingly steady, even to my own ears. It was not a question, but a stark declaration.

Beatrix’s lips tightened into a rigid line. She neither confirmed nor denied my words.

Her silence, in itself, was an implicit admission.

“Is this Lady Elinor’s command?”

I continued, my gaze slowly drifting from the manuscript to settle upon her face.

“Or is it your own volition?”

“…This has nothing to do with you.”

Beatrix finally spoke, her voice parched and unyielding.

“You only need to comprehend this: the power you wield is profoundly perilous, capable of overturning kingdoms, even the entire world order. I… we must ascertain its true nature.”

“‘We’?” I seized upon the word, my tone sharp.

“You and Lady Elinor?”

Beatrix’s gaze flickered momentarily.

Witnessing her poorly concealed reaction, an absurd yet undeniably plausible theory began to take shape in my mind.

This commoner knight, who revered justice as her guiding principle and loathed all forms of privilege and conspiracy, seemed to be…

…performing some clandestine work for the enigmatic countess widow, whose actions were shrouded in secrecy.

‘How suspicious…’

This, in itself, presented a profound contradiction.

“I am curious,”

I advanced slowly towards her, each step deliberate, as if testing a wounded beast held captive by its own vigilance.

“Why would someone like you obey her commands? What benefit did she offer you? Or, perhaps, there’s some sort of… arrangement between you two that I’m unaware of?”

My words, blunt and direct, struck like a sharp blade, piercing precisely through the formidable armor of her justice.

“Silence!”

Beatrix snarled, a fierce blaze of anger igniting within her golden eyes.

“Do not dare to use such vile words to speculate about Lady Elinor! She…”

Her words, however, abruptly caught in her throat mid-sentence.

It seemed some unspoken reason rendered her incapable of continuing her defense.

Her reaction only solidified my suspicion.

“Is that so?”

I halted my steps, a single desk now serving as the expanse between us.

I refrained from pressing her further, instead allowing my gaze to return to the manuscript. My words, spoken almost to myself, carried a distinct undertone of mockery.

“So, this is the outcome of your investigation? ‘Child of Chaos’? How truly remarkable that sounds. What, then, is your next step? Do you intend to secretly dispose of me as if I were some monstrous aberration? Or will you imprison me, to serve as mere research material?”

“We never considered such a thing!”

Beatrix immediately retorted, her voice elevated by a surge of agitation.

“Lady Elinor merely… merely seeks a method to control, or perhaps… to guide this power! She believes that since such a power exists, it must possess inherent meaning, and cannot simply be dismissed as inherently evil!”

“Guide?” I let out a soft, dismissive laugh.

“How truly compassionate of you. Yet, is it not a touch arrogant for outsiders such as yourselves to presume to decide such matters?”

I extended my hand, my fingertips lightly tracing the parchment that bore the words of my destiny.

“Whether my power is good or evil, whether it brings destruction or correction, how it should be wielded, how it should be guided… should not these decisions fall to me, the Child of Chaos myself?”

My voice, though soft, seemed imbued with a peculiar magic. It resonated clearly, striking directly at Beatrix’s heart.

She stood utterly frozen.

Her golden eyes, typically ablaze with the unyielding flame of absolute justice, for the very first time betrayed a profound tremor of doubt and confusion.

‘That’s right…’

She and Lady Elinor had consistently viewed Lilliana as a dangerous entity, a mere vessel of power to be studied, guided, and ultimately controlled.

They had never once considered inquiring about the vessel’s own will.

Because in their entrenched perception, Lilliana was synonymous with arrogance, foolishness, and malice.

Entrusting such immense power to her own command was akin to placing a sharpened blade into a child’s unsuspecting hand.

‘But…’

Unbidden, images from the past few days flickered through Beatrix’s mind.

Lilliana, who, in the corridor, had calmly uttered ‘too troublesome’ with a logic entirely beyond Beatrix’s comprehension.

Lilliana, who, on the training grounds, despite wielding power capable of annihilating all, had quietly—almost clumsily—raised a shield to protect that commoner girl.

And now, Lilliana, standing right here, her gaze clear and icy, proclaiming the most undeniable declaration of sovereignty in the calmest of tones.

“…”

The image of the villainess noble daughter, as she had always perceived her, was slowly crumbling, shattering into fragments.

Upon those ruins, a new image—one she found utterly inscrutable—was slowly, steadily forming.

“I…”

Beatrix parted her lips, realizing that her proud, iron-willed resolve had, for the first time, developed a visible fissure.

The justice she had always steadfastly believed in seemed, in this very moment, to have grown indistinct and blurred.

Observing her wavering, discomfited expression, I chose not to press my advantage.

I withdrew my hand, turned, and began to walk towards the colossal, circular bookshelves that soared directly to the dome.

“Since this is the restricted section, surely there are more records concerning chaos than just this single manuscript, wouldn’t you agree?”

I spoke in a placid tone as I walked, as if the intense confrontation that had just transpired had never occurred at all.

“Student Eisen, since you are tasked with organizing documents here, might I trouble you to guide me, the Child of Chaos, on my way?”

I emphasized the phrases ‘organizing documents’ and ‘Child of Chaos’ with deliberate clarity.

This served as both a declaration and a subtle probe.

A declaration that I would formally seize control over all matters concerning myself.

Simultaneously, it was a test of the female knight, whose inner world was currently embroiled in a violent storm, to see what choice she would make when her sworn duty clashed with her burgeoning understanding.

Beatrix remained frozen in place, utterly unmoving.

Sunlight, filtering through the dome, cast a delicate, fragmented halo upon her silver short hair.

Upon her perpetually taut face, for the very first time, an expression of profound struggle became evident.