In the end, Liliana can’t remember what caused her to start singing.

Liliana’s clan has been a nomadic one since the times of her mother’s mother’s mother and even further back, never settling anywhere.

It’s only natural that being a traveling bard, a profession without roots, would get boring quickly. They travel with the winds, driven by their whims, continuing their journey on two legs.

While there are certainly groups of bards who gather together to perform as a troupe, Liliana wasn’t one to enjoy being part of a crowd. It wasn’t that she disliked being with others, but there was a dissonance in her sensibilities. To put it simply, it was a difference in musicality.

Just as her mothers had done, Liliana set out on her own journey.

Even so, it cannot be denied that her independence was quite early, even among the many free-spirited bards. She took flight from her parents’ home at the age of thirteen.

“Enough already! I won’t sit here smoking! Mom and dad can do whatever they want!”

It’s clear she didn’t leap out over something trivial; it was a culmination of her quarrels.

Since she turned ten, Liliana had desperately wanted to be independent. That was an overly reckless notion from an idealistic girl, which her parents—especially her mother—strongly tried to dissuade her from.

However, at this age, Liliana’s emotional maturity was somewhat ahead of her peers, greatly influenced by the many poems her father played and her mother sang.

For young Liliana, the people who appeared in her mother’s music were objects of longing.

As she listened to their adventures, challenges, battles, romances, conflicts, and self-mastery, Liliana grew intolerant of being stuck in place.

—The people she knew through song lived so freely and chose their own paths.

To ten-year-old Liliana, the heroes and legendary figures that appeared in song were friends. She yearned to walk the same roads they did, to see the same sights, and to experience life under the same sky they gazed upon.

With such feelings bound up inside her for three years, it’s a wonder she lasted as long as she did.

Liliana kindled fervent passion and a sense of camaraderie for the people of the stories, stealthily acquiring the performance skills of the lyre from her father, and her mother’s singing and various famous songs.

On the night of her thirteenth birthday, she received a discarded lyre passed down through her clan. Following a monumental argument with her parents, she broke free and set out on her own.

“Ha ha ha! Just you wait and see, Mom and Dad! I will become the Bard King!”

Leaving her parents’ pursuit completely behind, she vowed to the night sky.

Thus began the grand adventure of Liliana Masquerade.

—Looking back now, she realizes that that argument was born from her parents’ compassion.

From the time she was ten, her parents had repeatedly tried to rein in her recklessness. They pointed out her lack of skill, laughed at her unfamiliarity with song, and even occasionally skipped meals.

“Oh ho ho! A little brat like you trying to be independent is ten years too soon! For such a cheeky child, rabbit meat will be off the menu!”

“Oh dear, how unfortunate! Even though today, rabbit stew has turned out so succulent, it’s off-limits! A child who doesn’t listen to their parents certainly deserves sympathy!”

In both a good and bad sense, her parents were dream-chasers.

How much they must have grieved at their only daughter’s departure! Surely, there must have been all sorts of internal conflicts as they said their goodbyes.

“This means less food for us! Now I can have three meals a day!”

“If Liliana is gone, maybe we can have another child!”

Such must have been their conflicts. She must have been missed. No doubt about it.

Additionally, the argument was the final gift from her parents to Liliana.

They hurled such heartless words at each other to cut off her retreat, in the event that she should wish to return home after her dreams were crushed.

If there exists an escape route, people grow weak. If one clings to the idea that there is a place to return to, their spirit of challenge shies away from burning brightly till the end.

Especially bards lack a homeland.

They combine the two things people ordinarily possess: a hometown and family. The dependency on family is unconsciously strong. Breaking that bond is the biggest hurdle to standing on one’s own feet.

Liliana overcame these challenges, thanks to her reckless youth and her parents’ ingenious planning.

When Liliana was reduced to slurping muddy water, eating roots, and was crushed by hunger and helplessness, she realized that compassion.

Had her spirit broken back then, she might have cast aside her lyre by now. She is grateful to her parents. Their separation was surely the best thing for both of them.

“—Ah.”

“Geez.”

“Oh dear.”

However, years later, when they unexpectedly reunited in a certain town, the awkwardness was unbearable. What’s more, her parents were holding a little girl whom Liliana didn’t know.

She supposed that must be her younger sister, but without exchanging a word with her parents, Liliana simply held her head high and walked past them.

In a few years, when she has achieved even more glorious accomplishments, perhaps she will be able to reunite with her parents and exchange words with a smile.

But for now, she feels she is still lacking in that regard. So, today is as far as I’ll go.

Of course, there is the chance that after this day, she might never see her parents again. There’s a greater likelihood that she will never have the opportunity to tell her unknown sister that she is her older sister.

But that’s fine. This is the path Liliana chose, one in which she lives in harmony with song.

And someday, when Liliana becomes a bard whose name resounds around the world, those playful parents will undoubtedly boast about her. The first subject of their bragging will surely be her little sister. What a lovely ambition to get in on!

“Fufu, this is quite an exciting future. Though it doesn’t bounce too much!”

Such was the mindset of Liliana at seventeen, as she set out on her way.

Now, at the age of twenty-two, it has been nine years since she became independent—certainly a continuous series of hardships, her journey hasn’t been a bed of roses.

Especially right after she left at thirteen. The day after promising to become the Bard King, she was already on the verge of death. If not for being rescued by a passing merchant’s group and being allowed to serve as a maid to save up a little money, she may have truly died of loneliness.

The group was made up of merchants traveling to trade goods.

Liliana was taken in by this group and helped as a maid and entertainer. While she had a meal and a place to stay, it turned out to be far safer and more comfortable than venturing out on her own.

Upon arriving in town, Liliana would carry her lyre and sing on the street to make a little pocket money. She would never forget the thrill of receiving tips for the very first time, separated from the hands of her father and mother.

She stayed with the merchant group for about a year, but they disbanded when the leader saved enough money to settle in town and open a shop. Among the departing merchants, some invited Liliana to join them again, but she politely declined and chose to be on her own.

She gave up the safety and comfort of an easy journey and became light on her feet to sharpen her skills.

The days of floating in comfort had come to an end; the legend of Liliana Masquerade was about to begin. There was no doubt she felt that way.

The following years were fraught with difficulties which I will omit.

While being part of a trading group, or part of an influential family of bards might have entitled her to a certain status, the world was cold to a young singer who was no longer part of that world.

It was around this time that she realized the true intention behind her parents’ compassion when they reluctantly accepted her departure.

And during this moment, Liliana had another important realization about the world.

That the world in which she lived and the story characters she was familiar with were never the same, and that she was not one of their companions.

There was no special trigger for this epiphany.

It was simply that one night, while she was foraging alone in the mountains, her stomach upset from eating unripe red berries, she became painfully aware as she struggled with stomach aches and fevers.

The remarkable heroes she knew from the wonderful tales did not end up like this.

This is because that story had already reached its conclusion. The days when they spoke of dreams, wished for wishes, and wielded swords were far in the past, and Liliana was merely borrowing the surface of their footprints, passing their tales along to others.

Liliana loved them, but they would never love her in return.

Her feelings flowed in a perfect one-way stream, and what’s worse, they could only lead to a dead end in the past, leaving her lost.

—So then, what does it mean to be a bard?

Having burst forth from her home saying, “I will become the Bard King!” and spending years calling herself a bard, Liliana finally realized she was an imitation.

She had crashed headfirst into a barrier she had never even considered before, and it felt like all her teeth had been smashed in.

For three days and nights, Liliana’s stomach aches, fever, and vomiting persisted.

Tossing and turning, Liliana thought deeply about this in her dreams, or whatever vague reality it was.

On the fourth day, she woke up in the morning and refreshed herself at a small stream, washing her face and taking a drink.

The reflection staring back at her was one that seemed completely different from the self she had known.

The wind rustled through the grass and trees, and the gentle sound of the stream flowed. It was the first time she felt music there.

Tears streamed down, and Liliana could no longer hold back as she jumped into the stream.

In shock, insects, birds, and fish startled at her leap; music overflowed from everything as she emerged, her face twisted up in laughter and tears, laughing and wailing all at once.

Having descended from the mountain, Liliana stood in the street, muddy and soaked.

Nobody was willing to approach a girl who looked so shabby with her instrument. The shop owners who saw her from doorways grimaced, and passers-by were filled with discontent.

If she stood there for just a few seconds longer, it’s likely some heartless person would have shoved her out of the way.

However, Liliana was swift. It wasn’t born from thinking she would be thrown out if she didn’t start quickly.

At that moment, she only wanted to sing as soon as possible.

“—”

The moment her lyre’s strings were plucked, how many people noticed?

No one seemed to see beyond the filthy, shabby girl’s well-worn lyre; only her hands, which caressed the strings, remained pristine.

Whether anyone noticed this remains uncertain.

What is certain is that the consciousness of those who did notice would have distanced themselves from that spot immediately.

“—”

As Liliana’s performance began, the delicate yet vibrant notes erupted from her fingertips, freezing the feet of everyone on the street, stifling their breath.

In an instant, everyone understood that something dramatically new had begun, as they were swept up in the tidal wave of emotions flowing into their hearts.

The source of this was plain sight: the dirty girl standing in the street.

Liliana felt the weight of her accumulating attention, understanding the thrill coursing through her. A stage was being set, with her racing toward it.

And when the heat of her performance reached its climax, the time for her song arrived.

What Liliana had sung until now felt pale in comparison, as her voice poured forth from her throat, sending forth melodies like never before.

All the songs she knew spilled over her, evoking a profound connection with the many famous pieces, and she watched them ascend to the heavens with a clear heart.

—Song is a gift; to the friends of the past who are sung; she is nothing.

That was fine; Liliana understood her existence like that, understood that she would continue to sing.

She would brag about this to all, proclaiming the existence of such wonderful people in the world.

She would boast about having once thought of them as friends, sharing a fallacy of pride.

And someday, she would make a true friend among the magnificent, and then be able to sing that such amazing people were her friends.

“—”

When her song concluded, tears flowed from Liliana.

The people who had been entranced stood lost in a daze, tears flowing down their faces, sniffling along with her.

Thunderous applause enveloped the street, and Liliana Masquerade had become a bard.

From then on, her connection with music continued.

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

Remembering those moments when she first sang on her own, and when she first became a “bard,” Liliana sang on top of the blazing Control Tower.

Her heart swelled with feelings similar to those heady early days.

She wanted to sing so badly, and there was so much she wanted to express in words, so much she wanted to turn into music. Even in the middle of singing, she simply had to sing. This was almost a sickness.

The white flames, choosing their prey and burning them up, continued to flicker with unwavering intensity.

Though that heat did not reach Liliana, only the burn of it endlessly tormented her. The scorching pain still ran through her soles; her body, having dashed through the fiery tower, screamed beneath its legs.

It was painful enough to make her want to buckle her knees and scream right out.

But crying out was out of the question. Rolling around would be a waste.

Below, people eager to hear her awaited; her voice was not meant for cries, but for song.

“—”

The song that rang out was not the one passed down from her parents or clan.

As a bard whose duty was to pass down stories through song, it might be seen as a failure; however, this was a gift she received, the first song with which she filled the world with music.

When a new morning dawned, the sky was painted shades of red and yellow.

She loved that moment when the sky that chased away the night made way for the dawn of a new day.

And that very morning, chasing away the hues of dawn, the azure sky would bring in a true morning.

—The sky that surpasses the dawn.

No matter how dark the night may be, morning will still come.

For everyone, the blue sky that surpasses the dawn is the beginning of a new day.

“—”

At present, chaos abounded in the city, and many were paralyzed by anxiety and sorrow.

Yet amidst the night where no front nor back was visible, the truth is that everyone struggled and fought.

Yet still, Liliana wanted to sing that morning would come.

She wished to sing because she wanted to share this thought.

Living while suppressing the songs she wanted to sing was the saddest thing for her.

So she poured her heart and soul into singing what she wanted to convey most right now.

From the top of the Control Tower, Liliana’s voice trembled as she continued to sing.

Her fingers danced over the strings of the lyre, and indeed, as she sang, she danced. She made full use of the top of the Control Tower to reach the many people surrounding it.

However, sadly, her voice did not reach the ears of all those gathered.

It wasn’t simply a matter of volume. There were other barriers. There were emotional barriers in the hearts of the audience. No matter how deeply Liliana poured her heart into her song, those physical and psychological walls remained.

Liliana believed in the power of song.

However, song must reach the listener; only then does it become a song.

How many people surrounded her, about to be crushed beneath an avalanche of grief and despair?

Hundreds, thousands, perhaps thousands more. She had never experienced delivering a song to that many people with only her own power, without the aid of any magical device.

There were no means for her to amplify her voice, nor any methods for reaching numerous hearts simultaneously that the average person could possess.

Liliana’s challenge was reckless, and her hopes were far away.

At ten years old, Liliana had her unattainable ambitions deemed reckless by none other than her parents.

Was it that she was repeating the same mistakes once again, stuck in that time?

The power of song was genuine, but was she still an imitation when it came to delivering that song?

Could she end things like this?

“—!”

No, this couldn’t be. Her throat singeing from that self-derision.

In that very moment,

“Liliana—Beautiful songstress. Please use that song of yours to captivate me for eternity.”

The foolish words of a foolish man resurfaced in her mind.

He was truly a strange man. To put it bluntly, he was a weirdo. Perhaps “pervert” would be more accurate.

The kind of person who approached her with ulterior motives after having heard Liliana sing had definitely crossed her path before.

She had always kept them at arm’s length. She could not lend her voice to those who approached her insincerely, seeking to use her for their own selfish desires. That was her sense of duty as a bard.

“I was captivated by your beauty. Please, stay by my side!”

So, the first one to approach her with ulterior motives, based on her looks, was him.

It was only after seeing Liliana that he had attempted to woo her, that he learned she was a bard afterwards. When she had the chance to sing before him, rather than paying attention to her song, he had kept his gaze trained on her looks, chest, and legs; to be frank, it had been uncomfortable.

Yet he hadn’t been insincere regarding his appreciation of Liliana’s song; it was true, and he didn’t hide his feelings towards her.

He admired her beauty, appreciated her voice, and grew attached to her personality.

“There are four Great Watergates in Watergate City. Therefore, in case of emergencies, there are many shelters throughout the city. This magical device raises awareness among citizens about day-to-day threats and aids their decision-making in times of trouble.”

“Uh… so what?”

“I think you should incorporate your song into that broadcast. There are still many people in the city who do not know your song. This is a great opportunity.”

The notion of projecting her voice through a magical device felt like an affront to Liliana.

A song should be sung right in front of those who wish to hear it! She hesitated to refuse. Yet he, with a cheerful demeanor, laughed and said,

“I want to keep you to myself. But your song should never be mine alone. The songstress belongs to the people, while Liliana belongs to me. Is that not fair to wish for?”

What a ridiculous man, smiling without ill intent.

If he thought that was a line to woo her, she couldn’t help but want to scoff.

Liliana knew countless love stories that were sung in this world.

She knew the people in those tales who were enamored, captured by love, and deeply engrossed in affection. She knew the words that mesmerized, the attitudes that made hearts flutter, and how love came to fruition.

Thus, Liliana was not so sweet as to fall for such words.

Yet she did not dislike the sound of “songstress.”

That title rang too grand for her to proudly claim.

However, he, Kiritaka Muse, expected Liliana to embody the role of “the songstress.”

That person had made her the “songstress” of this city.

“—”

Convey this, resonate, and let this feeling tremble.

No matter how dark the night may be and how many shadows cloud her vision, morning will always come.

The “songstress” of Watergate City, Liliana Masquerade, would sing in the strongest, boldest voice.

“—”

The struggles and pain she had felt so acutely before had faded.

All her essence poured into her hands playing the lyre, her dancing feet, and her ever-singing throat.

Everything felt like it would be squeezed dry.

Every emotion, every part of her song, all of it.

“—”

Liliana, singing, singing, unaware that now she could not hear the desperate wails of the captivated people.

Outside the flaming waterways, people who had suffered from pain and sorrow were gazing up at the sky.

No, not at the sky. They were looking at the Control Tower wrapped in flames, echoing her voice.

Atop it, a small shadow continued to raise its voice, far beyond their reach.

They couldn’t look away from her. As she poured every thought into her voice, they strained to listen, breath caught in their throats.

What should have been unreachable was clearly heard by all.

This wasn’t some miracle or mass hallucination experienced collectively. It wasn’t even a shared emotion brought on by the authority of the Archbishop of Sin.

—The true bloom of Liliana’s bestowed gift from the heavens, “The Blessing of the Heart.”

The power of this blessing, which until now had remained unconscious, reached its full potential at this moment, bolstered by her abilities as a singer and her commitment to give it her all, showering the city with immense power.

Of course, Liliana had no awareness of this.

And no one was here to explain that fact to her in the first place.

Liliana simply continued to sing, pouring forth her entire spirit.

As a bard, she entrusted all her singing, every moment of this time to her song.

Indeed, the song of the “songstress” of Pristella resounded here.

※※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※　※

“—Indeed, my eyes were not mistaken when I saw that.”

Holding the blazing sword of the sun that appeared to be glowing from within, Priscilla was smiling.

The song reached her ears too.

On the stage of the white burning Control Tower, Liliana was unleashing her best voice.

Though the flames of the sun sword chose what to burn, the heat carried within it was not false. The interior of the Control Tower was hot enough to feel as if it were roasting, and the heated stone tower was ablaze. In that very moment, she must have felt a burning desire to leap from it.

Yet even so, listening to the song, there was no trace of whimpering or agonizing pain within Priscilla.

It wasn’t that she was without feelings. It was simply that the purity of the song itself overshadowed the agony.

What a foolish conclusion that was. A conclusion only a fool could come to.

The ultimate proof of a gifted fool is the results so foolish they override reason.

“That fool is quite delightful. To be foolish is not to be the same as being ignorant. While there’s no value in living foolishly, a fool has the charming trait of being amusing. That one has proven to be more than amusing, and for that, I shall reward her.”

Just before Priscilla could finish her contemplations, burning iron chains lunged from directly above and to the left. The fangs of the flame-wreathed iron snake came directly at the frozen Priscilla.

With a scoff and a noise of disdain, she lifted the sun sword.

She swung the sword above her shoulder, slashing diagonally.

By cutting across simultaneously with the two incoming attacks from above and left, she firmly deflected the oncoming iron chain in a single stroke. The light sound of the clash reverberated as if to parallel the spiteful clicks of the monster.

“You and that girl are both such a nuisance! What is the difference between you and her? Though the means differ, our essence is the same! It is but proof of how we are linked as one!”

Sirius shouted loudly, drawing closer to the severed end of the burnt chain.

Spinning his arms in rage, he spewed flames, their heat flapping his coat hem. The bloodshot eyes of the monster were fixed on Liliana, dancing atop the burning Control Tower.

The true power of Liliana’s “Blessing of the Heart” was tremendous, and the shockwaves reached the monster as well.

Even the monster, who was sensitive to the changes of hearts, couldn’t deny the impact of that song.

As those shackled by the curse of “Wrath” released the residents from its chains, even now outside the burning waterways, a calmness lay in the eyes of the people standing helplessly.

Their gazes no longer held madness; only a soft glimmer of tears filled their eyes.

What emotions the tears originated from remained a complex mystery the monster lacked the ability to comprehend. They were in constant flux, wavering.

“If only that one were here… Why do you stand in my way! People desire connection, to become one! That’s how the world continues to exist! Yet why!”

“One song evokes thousands of different feelings. Each person captivated by a famous song will impute different meanings into the words ‘wonderful.’ How noisy they are, crying out about emotions while their understanding of the most important parts is shallow… That’s what ‘foolish’ means.”

“Shut your mouth!”

Sirius exclaimed in response to Priscilla’s merciless words, as he slammed his arms together. The chains clinked together, intertwining the feathers of his arms, and with gritted teeth, he forcefully peeled away the chains wrapped around his arms.

The skin of his arms peeled back, flesh scraped away. Drowning in pain, Sirius freed his own arms, binding the slashed chains and swinging them with ferocity.

The rotation of the thrashing chains sparked flames, swirling and expanding to their utmost reach.

The searing inferno converted into a disc, and the intensity of the flames ignited Sirius himself.

“Could it be that the bandages on your arms are a result of such foolishness?”

If the reason for the bandages was burns caused by the predictable serpent before her, then it was nothing but madness.

With the most powerful threat facing her, Priscilla’s demeanor none the less remained composed.

Two flame serpents, coupled into a formidable blaze, their might overwhelming.

Should she be caught in that inferno, nothing other than pure annihilation would remain; Priscilla merely looked on, with little interest.

“Emotional tremors… Intense emotional turmoil— in other words, passion, and that would be ‘Wrath!’”

Submitting to revulsion, embracing the aversion, Sirius’s flames became a torrential wave.

Boiling in intensity, the flames dashed toward the Control Tower, no longer taking form as chains. The moment the flames were unleashed, the chains lost their purpose.

The moment that severed chains lost their utility, they were molten down in seconds; all that was left descended toward Priscilla. The sheer mass of it was reminiscent of clouds crashing down.

Evading this was impossible; to defend against it was merely to be engulfed.

In its essence, when facing flames, there was only one thing you could do.

“—If my will is the will of heaven, then the sun sword’s brilliance shall obey.”

As the ocean of flames approached, Priscilla took hold of the sun sword.

Not in an unfocused and careless manner, but raised it high above her head.

“Be obliterated—!!”

“—”

The moment the two collided, Sirius spat hatred from fire’s opposite side at Priscilla.

Priscilla let that anger wash over her. To her, only the song remained.

Even as she was swallowed in the blazing heat, a transformation took place within the sun sword.

The magnificent blade, which had dazzled with the glow of all jewels, abruptly lost that light, leaving only the red hilt and the crimson blade in Priscilla’s grasp.

And just like that, the lightless sword slammed into the flame.

“—”

Now stripped of its brilliance, the sword devolved into an ordinary slab of steel devoid of radiance.

So then, one might have concluded that in retraction from the flames, there was not enough force to repel that fire; any observer might have perceived that.

—Yet, the result concluded exactly the opposite.

“—Prepare to consume!”

Priscilla’s whisper as she swung down the sun sword would have been silenced by the flames.

However, her existence did not vanish; on the contrary, there was not an ounce of heat wave separating her from the flames.

The bolt of fire, claiming all manner of strength, vanished without trace.

Where that fiery inferno had dissipated, only the revitalized brilliance of the sun sword remained.

“Mu—”

Immediately after Palissila gripped the sun sword, her expression twisted profoundly.

The wicked smile faded into a look of grim resolve, and she took to her feet, rushing.

In her line of sight was Sirius, who had taken to flight faster than her.

The monster ran at an explosive pace, distancing himself from Priscilla. That evasive maneuver was a clear, confident sprint, indicating that the creature had not glanced back at the flames’ aftermath.

In which case, it became apparent that Sirius’s aim was not Priscilla at all.

“Stop that irritating song—!! Do not selfishly deny my and that person’s ‘Wrath’—!!”

Sirius’s bloodshot eyes aimed directly for Liliana’s singing at the Control Tower.

The white flames wrapping around the Control Tower were flames that allowed only Liliana to remain free. The instant Sirius plunged into those flames, he would inevitably be scorched to ash.

Surely even a monster must comprehend this reality. With that said, his ultimate aim was defined—

“What do you think you’re doing to my prize?!”

With explosive force, Priscilla propelled herself across the plaza. Sirius was indeed swift, but Priscilla outstripped him entirely.

As the previous advantage gained by Sirius disappeared, Priscilla wielded her sun sword toward the back of the monster. With no chains to defend himself, he had no means of reception for her strike.

“Cease, you commoner—”

“Cease yourself, you fool!!”

“—!?”

Just before her sun sword would have cleaved Sirius in two, Priscilla’s body was unexpectedly wrenched into midair. Forced completely awry, she froze, unable to move, bewildered at what lay before her.

Sirius lifted his legs, the movement of which caused the same locks heard moments prior to slap against her.

“Rrrrgh!”

“Damn!”

A heavy blow reacted with the clanking sound of chains, smashing into the stillness of Priscilla.

The syncopation with which her body came to the ground connected tightly with the elements of her reality; the pain blockaded her senses.

The now needle-like slap to the legs of Priscilla hit with crushing force.

A myriad of sharper demonstrations came as her perception faltered, and hurling a body back awoke her consciousness.

The clash made a counterpoint louder than the unsound of bricks under the collapsing Control Tower.

Priscilla was struck profoundly as Sirius jabbed with both limbs, her body struck and smashed, cracking apart..

A flurry of fiery strokes sped toward Sirius, the impact echoing across the surrounding landscape.

The heat enveloped her; crashing through, the sun blade swung dominantly in posturing command, securing the full scope of the powerful ramifications.

Yet in its endless ebbing or withdrawing, they congealed together in waves.

“—Fret not, you pathetic creature.”

With coldness eminently differing, the waves merged further, carefully ceding the pieces of enforced structure.

Priscilla discarded a relaxed air, her sun sword holding secret whisperings amid the waves of sound.

“Let the dawning song surround our hearts—!”

The flames abandoned their duty.

The atmosphere beneath her felt fragile, rapturous yet scintillating as shockwaves lingered from the searing rapture.

“Could it be…?”

Her fleeting inquiry faded into Chagrin, sliding further inward, losing footing amidst the flames layered within her place, and maintaining distance to Sirius.

As mid-air weight vanished quickly around Priscilla, the sunlight following appeared like dense webs of anger wanting to weave toward her.

A portion transferred without fuzz to her hand; all that manifested bore the essence of heart riveted flame.

“Here lies a melody destined to lead—!”

As the last vulnerable fragments re-entered, she swung her sun blade, unleashing a pull to rest.

Her sword, brandishing the life within truth secured upright, released a tune to resonate as it would later after.

Yet it proved unyielding; the sky obstructed falls out of tune, widening a gash to manifest solidity.

“—This is so—”

Gates to breach what had interrupted began showed doubt; fortify the vantage to alter course.

If leaping history was any insight ushered a foreboding refrain, parting would reason accordingly.

“—Alight the ascension, bards around!”

A luminous pulse recaptured awakened movement, attaining the past to liberate the heart.

A fierce strike separated elements; she beckoned with crude intent toward a distant light she could reach; the proof once tasted held that as well.

“Live beyond the likelihood of whom wallows in silence! Follow those who haunt their dreams; you’re meant to fill the score! Forever hold on to the electric touch, rebirth the final spec—!”

To break behaviors ingrained deep within tormented souls she struck simultaneously.

An acceptance existed if only those somehow related could join.

Silence roamed; shadows appearance descended into manifesting that they bore the song.

The releasing conflicts would sound, illuminate their acts became the phoenix.

Once they vowed to sing beyond the flames, they would revere across warm winds; this felt daring yet.

Shining with invigoration no longer weighed by the past; to forgive was the only path followed.

“Cleansed,” she murmured.

“I’ll sing into existence.”

With those words left resonating, her song became filled incredibly with power.

Fire began to lift, searching beyond the horizon.

Liliana could emerge steadfast, clasped through fervor upturned ultimately in search.

—

“Still burning bright, I am Liliana…”

The figure stood adorned in well-worn belongings, for all had combusted, bursting in bright light.

The flickering sun sparked at the gates as reinforcements gathered cherry-pick legends known to her.

No matter the trials laid, it took no false turn.

“Hold on!… too finely ground. Voices’ resonance entwined however, has yet undone.”

The fire dove within.

Shifting back toward the core of whoever condemned became woven in their sacred too-bitter tune.

“Open your stifling heart!”

Yet nothing ventured ever thinly seemed obscured through the high-lined firmament sweeping through.

Tracing back always signifies marks forged on their paths with the flame ignited broadly till now.

But none enthralled retraction fought against the surge; each stamp bore innate humility, gifting them wisdom,

There rested the remaining rebound through pooled crisis locked on walls holding; with striking organics bound by witness’ sound; she embraced everything now.

—

In light years beyond where voices lingered, flickering moments prevailed through all piloted free.

“Cherish me, companion of dreams….”

Her song lit the cold recesses.

The shimmering crowd coiled warmly, hearing the embers sing eons hence.

Should Sylvan bridges light burgeon resonate ablaze infinite rebirths clustered conjoined illuminating worlds entwined with those,

“Through winds of fate, let us grow beyond the wreckage, unchained…”

—

“Liliana!”

“Liliana!”

—

The raspy rasp rang tinted earth and fire to light beyond the tales to stake.

(Create flame in flames of worlds previously burned before dawn awakened spirits yearning the ether!)

—

The elder spell reached hearts yet encumbered before long stirred through barriers felt; reach encourage themselves.

So she endured without pause; warmth bearing tides of secrets shared one breath laughter through the world rose through deeper persisting time:

“From not copper but ruby hearts sing bards and song—”

—

Paled newest time gathered to hear phrases trampled as song challenged and possibly overcome paths unabated soaring freer than fields touched in shadows where none feared.

“Forever more, forever lore will not cease where embers adore sculpt sacred love!”

—

Blurring doubts fire blessed them forth into blaze to reach universal skies…. to arrive.

May past recast those spirit echoed sing coalesce helping healed through the song flames.

—

No longer just shadow phantasies locked in through dialogues soaring above, imbued… added heartstrings bind themselves clasped through memories held together,

So all would heed deliverance…

—

“Forever onward! Forever coalesce, as one!”

—

Hope gleamed, gliding ghosts awoke sing to cast—stories intertwine through infinite lands—hearts congealing laughter forming regarded embers pushed forth.

—

《Absorbing amidst the eternal flame… rising… rising… rising…》

—

“`

 

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