KATHYIN GRAMONT'S POV
I felt my body shudder when Arceus embraced . I pursed my lips, but I was too exhausted to show any expression of surprise after having collapsed and cried like a little girl.
The icy shell of apathy in which I had kept myself locked away—far from the anger, pain, loss, and other emotions trying to make their way inside —had lted.
It might have been the warmth of his embrace or the warmth of his words, but I found myself crying once more. Tears ran down my cheeks, incessant and warm.
My shoulders trembled as I tried with all my might not to collapse once more, but Arceus's words continued to resonate in my mind.
I did very well.
I realized that I was even beginning to get used to the various "frivolous" behaviors of this rogue in front of . His actions were so natural, without probing or questions, simply touching and embracing at will. It was simply...
Too hateful; this guy is really too hateful!
I had always considered myself a virtuous woman and had never before fought or cursed at anyone. At that mont, facing such an insensitive guy, I discovered that I really had no way of dealing with him.
But the main reason I could calm down at that mont was my curiosity. Why had Arceus hugged ? Did he feel sorry for ?
The man in front of had suddenly beco a mystery full of questions. His way of doing things was impeccable. His plans were like puzzles that were assembled with ticulous care; he seed to always be one step ahead of others. Only during that brief mont on the fourth floor did I feel that there might be many things in his heart that no one knew.
I realized that I seed to have gotten used to the feeling of being cared for in that way. Although I didn't want to admit it, in my heart, there was a kind of dependency that I had rarely experienced since I was a child.
Born into a great noble family, I had lived in a luxurious mansion unimaginable to common people. To my eyes, there always existed a cold and indistinguishable distance between people. A maid could not have a sincere conversation with a lady, a warrior could never be a knight's brother, and a butler would not laugh or joke with a servant. Everything was so clearly delimited. But at that mont, I no longer felt that coldness or that loneliness that had been my constant companions.
I had never before imagined eting such a strange guy. My mind was brimming with curiosity. But Arceus was like a wooden log. He didn't utter a word if I didn't speak first, which depressed a little.
—I'm sorry. —I hugged my knees and looked at the ground as we waited for the next wave of undead. —I didn't an to collapse like that.
—Don't apologize. After what we just went through, anyone would need to vent. —Arceus was sitting on the ground with his legs crossed, resting his elbow, which held his mask, on his leg with a disinterested expression in the middle of the desolate village.
—What are you thinking about? —I asked, raising my head slightly and looking at him out of the corner of my eye. Arceus turned his head and observed for a mont.
—A person. —He shrugged and answered sincerely.
—A woman? —I dared to ask.
Arceus remained silent and didn't respond, but his eyes that could be seen through his mask seed to imrse in sothing deep, which made feel that his entire aura seed to have changed slightly.
—I was just curious. It doesn't matter if you don't want to tell . —For no reason, I felt that I seed to have asked sothing I shouldn't have because I saw that he didn't respond. —... Is she beautiful?
I wanted to say sothing more, but the words seed to co out of my mouth without thinking. Won were gossips by nature. Although I regretted having said it, I looked at Arceus carefully, still waiting for an answer.
Arceus was stunned by my question and seed to hesitate in responding.
—Yes, very beautiful.
With a sigh, I heard the answer I wanted to hear, but I felt it was a sowhat disappointing answer for . My hopeful eyes darkened instantly. I didn't know what I expected, but at that mont, a coldness enveloped . My anguish gradually surfaced, and even I felt a little disconcerted.
Although I resisted the temptation to ask more questions, I couldn't help but imagine what that "beautiful woman" would look like. What kind of relationship might they have? How did they et? What happened between her and Arceus?
Girls were always ticulous. Although Arceus's way of acting embarrassed and annoyed , these details that I ignored also constantly changed the impression I had of him. In general, he was a weirdo in my eyes.
—Actually, let's not talk about these murky things —I said, changing the subject—. Arceus, I really want to know... what is your true identity? Why do you never take off your mask? Were you a nobleman or a dwarf? Or a famous adventurer?
—To prevent being knocked out in an ambush —he responded simply—. And regarding your other questions, you're far from the truth.
—Oh... I didn't guess. Actually, I just envy those free people. —I murmured, sowhat disappointed by his vague answer.
—Why were you crying? —He suddenly asked, moving his neck to look at directly.
—Humph? —I looked at him, narrowing my eyes, surprised by his sudden interest.
—You're curious, aren't you?
—No, well... Yes. —He admitted after a mont.
I opened my mouth slightly and hesitated. It was reasonable to say that this type of matter involving my family's privacy should not be ntioned lightly. But obviously, I believed I could trust Arceus at that mont.
—My family, the Gramont clan, belongs to the elite of the Awakened —I paused, organizing my thoughts—. Do you know what the minimum requirent is to be a mber?
—Awakening, isn't it?
—That's right. And I could never awaken, no matter the degree of the stellar core.
I felt a lump in my throat rembering all my failed attempts.
—Did you run away from your clan?
—No... They threw out. —The words ca out more bitter than I intended.
—I see. Did you like being there?
—No, I hated it. They had terrible food, small rooms, and old people wandering everywhere. It was terrible!
I frowned and moved my head with disgust as I spoke, trying to hide the pain under my trivial complaints.
—And... why do you keep climbing the tower? —Arceus tilted his head, as if trying to understand sothing fundantal about .
—... Because I'm very resentful. —I raised my head and looked away, revealing a truth that I rarely admitted out loud.
I turned my head and looked at Arceus with a smile that shone like the sun in a clear sky, but that hid years of resentnt like a withered garden watered with tears of disappointnt.
—I will make them cry disconsolately when I return ho as the most powerful Ascendant who has ever walked the earth. And finally, I'm going to destroy the Gramont clan from within!
To remind my clan of what they had forgotten: that equity, courage, justice, and freedom were not simple words; they were perspectives.
Suddenly, Arceus laughed. His laughter resonated in the silence of our refuge.
—What? —I raised an eyebrow, not understanding what he found so amusing in my oath of vengeance.
—It simply seed typical of you. I... I like how you are: strong and perseverant.
My eyebrows rose and my eyes opened wide, astounded. My eyes trembled as if I had suffered an internal earthquake, as if I had received a direct critical attack to my heart.
—If you need help with sothing, let know. Let's destroy the Gramont clan or sothing... —He put a hand behind his head while laughing at himself.
My chest tightened, and the lump in my throat grew. Every word I wanted to tell him seed to drown before reaching my lips.
I gritted my teeth seeing him act like this. I kept cursing him in my heart for not understanding others' feelings, for not understanding the impact of his words on .
—Idiot! It wouldn't make sense if I didn't do it myself!
Am I an idiot?
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at Arceus's shaless words. I buried my head in my knees because I felt I would die of embarrassnt. I couldn't allow my heart to race and my face to burn over such simple words.
But the truth was that no one, absolutely no one, had ever told they liked how I was. All my life, I had been rejected for what I wasn't, for what I couldn't do, only for my deficiencies. And here was this masked man, this complete stranger, saying he liked precisely what I was.
Choosing to overco my trauma required courage, but it would be one of the most powerful forms of transformation. This didn't an erasing my past, but trying to give it a new aning. I finally understood it.
Despite the deep marks that trauma could leave, the human brain was malleable and capable of rebuilding itself. What had been hurt in was slowly healing, and a part of the wound that I believed incurable was beginning to close. What was broken, little by little, slowly... was being repaired.
The first step towards my healing was awareness. As long as a wound remained in darkness, it would continue dictating my conduct. But when I began to recognize the patterns that imprisoned —the fear of rejection, the constant need for approval, the difficulty in trusting others—an opportunity opened for to break that cycle.
As I found people who treated with respect, affection, and validation, I would begin to rebuild my vision of the world. Each healthy relationship beca proof that it was possible to experience affection in a different way. Overcoming my fears was a process, not a final destination. There would be easy days and difficult days, monts of advances and relapses. But with each small step, with each new understanding, sothing inside would reorganize like a blank canvas, ready to be painted. The past may have molded , but it didn't have to define who I would be from now on.
I understood that true freedom began when I stopped running from my own story and chose to write it with my own hands. Traumas could leave deep scars, shaping the way I saw the world, others, and myself. They had taught from a very early age that I wasn't enough, that love was unstable, and that danger could be anywhere. Many tis, there were people who carried these lessons all their lives without even realizing they no longer belonged to them. However, there was a truth that wasn't always told: what had happened to us didn't have to define who we were.
My past may have been marked by pain, but the future was in my hands. Trauma wasn't a sentence; it didn't mark my destiny. It was a painful experience, yes, but not defining. The path wouldn't be simple, but it was possible, and more than that, it was necessary. Because no one deserved to spend their entire life running from sothing that had already been left behind. The past couldn't be changed, but the present could, and from the present, the future could be rebuilt like a phoenix being reborn from its own ashes.
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