6/

In Duat, there is a structure called the Hall of Two Truths. It is said in that building there is a balance. On one side of the balance is your heart and on the other side is a single, white, ostrich feather. For those who have lived a light life, the heart will be lighter than the feather and they are allowed in the afterlife. On the other hand, those who have lived heavily have their heavy heart eaten by the monster on the side of the balance.

I think I'm staring at that mythological scale right now – or many I should say once more. So then, I must have died in that battle against Icecolle and am waiting to see if I can enter the afterlife. Geez, weren't we taught that after the decline of the Age of Gods, mythological underworlds became metaphysical?

"Do not despair. Today is not the day you face judgement." A familiar voice comes from the darkness. "As you can see, sometimes the feather is heavier than the heart and sometimes the heart is heavier than the feather. Undoubtedly, you are still alive."

"Icecolle!" My kidnapper's face comes into view; however, she looks a lot kinder. "No, the woman whose body Icecolle stole?"

The woman smiles radiantly. "Neither. This is currently a strong image for you, so forgive me for borrowing it." She then lowers her head for a moment. "I no longer exist in this era. But if you are referring to the 'me,' you are currently talking to, I am the remaining miniscule fragment of Her power in this artifact."

"So then, should I call you Bubo?"

"If it makes it easier for you, Bram. I may be the impetus, the original mystery that allows your mystic code to work the way it does; however, I am not your mystic code itself."

That doesn't make much sense, but there's a more urgent question.

"Sorry for asking Bubo, but where am I?"

"You were seriously injured during that fight. You used magecraft that was beyond your abilities and paid the price. Your magic crest kept you alive long enough so you could receive the adequate medical attention, but in the modern era, healing is completely focused on the body. As long as the heart is beating, they can keep it alive, but they can't do the same for the mind. That's why I took you into my inner world."

While the doctors or healers repaired the body, the mind would be safe here.

"You've been asleep for weeks, Bram, but it's time to wake up. You have someone waiting for you."

I nod. "Thank you for saving me."

"I have always been here, you just learned to ask."

She smiles once more and for a brief moment before fading, I think I could see a young woman with a scepter in one hand and an ankh in the other.

She must be another one of those hallucinations.

The moment I open my eyes, I realize that everything aches.

"Cheh, the doctors said you'd come out of it today. Didn't think they would be right though." Someone beside my bed grumbles.

I move my arm, trying to take these electrodes and wires off my body. That's when I realize I have something in my left hand – a white ostrich feather.

"You've been holding since I carried you out of that castle. Wouldn't let it go." He looks at it for a moment and snorts. "Pretty sturdy for a feather considering the mystic code was blasted into smithereens. Don't worry, I'll make you another one and this time you can pay double with interest or I'll just patent the design." He looks at me seriously, "And that's how you blackmail a magus, idiot."

Argh, why did I even try to save such a problematic man in the first place?

But enough of that. I look around, trying to get my bearings. There's a television above the bed playing the news and there are some flowers on the left table adjacent to my bed. It seems slightly too sanitary, like Mr. Musik's workshop back in the fortress.

"You're in Saint Francis Episcopal Hospital in New York. You were in pretty bad shape when I dragged you out of there. Your family flew you in."

Ah yes, one of the few modern hospitals that have some of the best facilities and more importantly, don't ask many questions.

"Hmph, that's all well and good." I surprise Mr. Musik. "But why are you here? Shouldn't you be back home or fighting the good fight in your little clan's civil war?"

"Hah—and leave your helpless self? The moment I leave this entire hospital is going to come crashing down on you. You're so incompetent that I decided to work for you!"

He adds how he's already starting to regret it.

But that makes me smile. Mr. Musik might be rough and abrasive, but as long as he's with me, I think I won't stray too far from the new path I did my best to pave.

"What about the Yggdmillennia? I'm sure the other two houses didn't react well to the news about the Icecolle too well."

He dismisses that with the wave of his hand, "That fool can take care of them, he's the head now. I did enough groveling to save us from the Association after we lost the Great Grail War. This change of pace might be nice for me. Anyway, I hear that the new Sagara girl is pretty good too."

Everything wasn't for nothing then. Some people suffered and others were hurt, but we still move forward so that one day…

"Mr. Musik, during the battle, you pushed me, didn't you?"

He looks at me strangely. "Of course, I did. You were dumbly standing there with your mouth open."

I nod. "But when you pushed me did you see –"

I cut myself off and look at the feather in my hand. There will be a hole in my heart if I don't ask this question. The "what if's", the "how was that possible" will plague me for my entire life. But even so….

"Sorry, Mr. Musik, it's nothing. I just wanted to say thank you for helping me."

"Stop being so weird, Bram. Of course, I helped you. I told you that I would, didn't I?"

The dead are gone and can never return. Those of us left behind might be left with nothing. However, to be hollow means one can be filled with anything.

To honor those who gave their lives for us-

To lay the ones we love to rest—

Let's look forward and build something more brilliant, more beautiful anything they have ever known.

Lately, I've been thinking about my sister. But it's about time I started thinking about what's next.