I stood frozen, as if nailed in place, staring endlessly into those eyes.

I couldn’t even tell what it was that stirred inside my chest.

It was something I had never known before.

“Hmm… is this not it? Or is it? Is this recording properly? I don’t know who made this, but it’s terribly complicated. It should be simpler. Will there even be time to fix it… Magic should be easy to use—this feels like hard labor. Honestly, whoever made this…”

My mother muttered rapidly, like a string of scattered thoughts, scratching her chin.

The image flickered slightly.

The last time I saw her, she had been composed and elegant—just like the “young lady” Suki always spoke of.

But now, she felt like nothing more than a bright, carefree girl.

“Ah! It worked properly! Hello, my child. I don’t even know where to begin. First—forget everything I just said. Oh dear… what if you think I’m clumsy? I’m really not that kind of person.”

Her cheerful voice filled the space.

She was so beautiful—so warm, so full of life—that I couldn’t even begin to imagine the depth of loss felt by those who had lost her.

“Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. My child, I’m your mother. Ripe of Aurelium—Ripe Silcania.”

“……”

My lips trembled.

There was a name I had always wanted to say—just once.

A name I had never been allowed to speak my entire life.

‘Hello… Mom.’

I wanted to greet her.

But my lips—my tongue—wouldn’t move.

It felt as though I didn’t even have the right to say it.

I was afraid, afraid that her face would twist in the same way my father’s always had when he looked at me.

“I don’t know what you’ll think when you see this. Still, I wanted to leave something behind, even if in a hurry. I only found out about you a few months ago… but I don’t think I’ll be able to see you. I probably won’t.”

My mother lowered her gaze to her stomach.

It wasn’t very large yet, but it was enough to tell she was pregnant.

“There’s so much I want to say… but it’s harder to organize than I thought. I didn’t realize this would be so difficult. Still… it’s something I have to do.”

Her bright smile seemed to light up the dark room.

“My child, I won’t be able to see you before I leave. I’m leaving this for you—for the version of you who might wonder what kind of person your mother was. What I looked like, what expressions I made, what kind of voice I had, what words I would leave behind… I know how painful it is to have nothing to remember someone by.”

…She was right.

The emptiness, the sorrow, something inside me, something I hadn’t even known was missing, slowly began to fill.

“What age will you be when you see this? Who will you resemble? Will you be a son, or a daughter? What will your name be? What name did Roland give you? Will you answer me?”

I couldn’t answer her.

And yet, with every question, I wanted to.

‘I’m a daughter. My name is Violette. Blanche gave it to me…’

I wanted to tell her that.

I even wanted to complain about Father, tell her what kind of man he was.

But my lips wouldn’t move.

“Hmm… I should think about this. If you’re a son… or if you’re a daughter… ah, hmm… what should I call you? I’m Ripe, Roland is Roland, but our child… our child…”

My mother frowned in thought, pressing her temples.

Then, as if giving up, she lifted her head again.

“Actually, Roland named Eri too. I scolded him for giving a girl such a masculine name, but then he asked if I could come up with something better. I couldn’t. In the end… all I could think of was ‘my child.’ And that’s how your sister became Hermes. Everyone kept asking if she was a boy. Roland and I would get so worked up about it.”

Hermes is a man’s name.

Watching her bright expression, a question rose within me.

She knew she was going to die, so how could she smile like that?

She would die because of me, so how could she look at me like that?

“…My child, I’ll be honest. It’s not that I don’t have selfish desires.”

Her expression softened, turning deeply tender.

She cradled her stomach with care.

“If only once… just once, I want to see you. I want to stroke your hair—whether you resemble me or Roland—and hold your tiny fingers. I want to tell you, ‘I’m your mother.’ I want to see you take your first steps. I want to hear your voice calling me ‘Mom.’ I…”

As if her emotions had surged too strongly, my mother bit down on her lip.

Then, as if nothing had happened, she smiled—bright like the sun.

“I’ve said something too heavy, haven’t I? My child, I pray every day. I pray that the path ahead of you—born with a great destiny—will shine brilliantly. That your life will be filled only with happiness, without sorrow or pain. I won’t be able to stay by your side… but I firmly believe Roland will cherish you in my place as well.”

The image before me faded.

The first message ended there.

Something boiled up inside me.

What was this feeling?

I couldn’t even name it.

Without thinking, I turned my trembling gaze away and reached for another magic stone.

This one was different—placed at the very front.

“I heard something very painful today, my child.”

It was about the day I had gone to her.

“They said everyone in the world would hate you. That you would come to resent your very existence. I was angry at first—but then I realized, too late.”

My mother lifted her eyes.

Those same red eyes my sister had—yet they seemed to hold me gently, warmly.

“The one who came to see me… was you.”

She cradled her now noticeably swollen stomach.

Her gaze, filled with a quiet, trembling joy, lowered softly.

“You were… a beautiful daughter who took after me.”

Her eyes, shimmering as if caught in a dream, looked as though they might overflow with tears.

“I felt a little disappointed that Eri took after Roland more than me… but you… you resemble me so much. Your eyes, your face, your expressions…”

Her words trailed off.

And yet, I had always thought my sister resembled her more.

“Perhaps if you long for something deeply enough, it really does come true. All I wanted was to see you once, and yet I was given the chance to meet you. I should have asked your name. I should have reached out and held your hand instead of letting you walk away. I should have asked you why you were saying such sad things and if your heart was hurting. I should have asked why your beautiful face was covered in bruises.”

Tears rolled down my mother’s cheek.

My chest tightened painfully.

Without thinking, I reached out—but my hand passed right through her.

“Who hurt you? Who made you suffer? I don’t know who it is, but I won’t forgive them. I’ll tear them apart if I have to!”

My mother bristled with anger, her words filled with sincerity.

But soon, her face twisted with pain.

“Then why… why is even this not allowed to me—and to you?”

Her voice, so gentle in the question, broke into a sorrowful cry that cut deeper than anything else.

“I want to stay by your side too. I want to watch you grow… to see you argue with Eri the way I did with your sister… to hear you say you hate something, or that you like it… even to see the day you bring home someone you love…”

Her hand moved, carefully wiping away her tears.

Even that small gesture was heartbreakingly beautiful.

“You know… this must be what greed feels like. I only wished to see you once… but after meeting you, I found myself wanting more. I wanted to go back and hold you right away. I wanted to stay and talk with you a little longer… but you were already gone. So instead, I’ll tell you something I’ve never once had the chance to say.”

She lifted her head.

“You looked so pained… as if the whole world had abandoned you. And it hurt me even more that there was nothing I could do for you. But, my child—”

For a moment, it felt as though her gaze met mine directly.

As though she truly saw me.

“I was happy.”

The warmth in her eyes trembled, and so did I.

Unable to endure it, I lowered my head.

Her voice poured over me, endless—

“I was happy because I carried you. Because I could give birth to you. Because I could feel you. The spring when you were inside me, the winter when you would be born, even the world you would live and breathe in—I came to love all of it because of you. I was happy… because of you.”

Something inside me tore open completely.

“So don’t think you were unhappy. Don’t think no one ever loved you. I wanted you. I wished for you. You were born from my hope, my love, my longing. I loved you… with everything I had.”

My legs gave out beneath me.

Collapsing onto the floor, I stared up at her, dazed.

“My precious child… I always wanted to light your path like the moon in the night sky.”

She smiled like an angel.

“So live. Don’t dwell on sorrow. Live for me as well… and think about finding happiness.”

The tears I had been holding back finally broke free.

Burying my face against the floor, my shoulders shook as I cried.

The one who had left this world because of me was telling me she loved me.

I had been loved.

I… had been loved.

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

Every word that poured into me ached.

My reality—unchangeable—my past—everything hurt.

And at last, I understood.

I could answer his question now.

This—this was what love was.

A heart willing to give everything, even itself, without holding anything back.

Not what he spoke of.

Not that twisted thing.

Lifting my head, I reached for another magic stone.

I wanted to know what else she had left for me.

“You.”

At that moment, a voice cut through.

I turned.

Through my blurred vision, I saw my father—his figure grotesquely distorted.

His lips, pale to me, moved slowly.

“…What… what are you looking at right now?”