Chapter 1508
Is he destined to die quietly?
Luck or misfortune is merely subjective conjecture; willingness or unwillingness is the objective fact. Although people are always more willing to believe their subjective conjectures, objective facts are the foundation of the material world.
Two enormous butterflies faced off amidst the torrential downpour and the gradually clearing sunlight. One, with its wings outstretched, woven from the flowing epic of civilization and the map of life, was sacred and magnificent; the other, with its mottled wings, bore the marks of decay and the cruelty of evolution, poignant and serene. The rain passed through their illusory forms, as if traversing two overlapping yet distinct worlds, leaving countless brief, bright lines in the sky. Ovira's light was steady and gentle, like an inextinguishable lamp; Pere's fragmented image, however, was mottled and swaying, its edges constantly peeling away dull scales, dissolving into an invisible sigh in the rain.
“You can no longer defeat me, Pereira.”
Ovira spoke calmly, without a trace of sarcasm. At this moment, she was neither speaking from the perspective of a victor nor condescendingly mocking the inevitable fate of the losers; she was simply offering the most rational and ruthless analysis based on the current situation: "You should know this better than I do."
Pereira fluttered her butterfly wings slowly, the edges of the leaf almost transparent withered. She didn't refute, but simply gazed quietly at the gradually reviving earth beyond the rain curtain, at the figures wading through the mire of despair, embracing and weeping with hope, from the ruins of a palace eight thousand meters below to the bottom of an ancient, lost abyss; from the dried-up, weathered salt sea to the heavily fortified stronghold where two armies faced off... Miracles are everywhere in the world, and perhaps many people refuse to believe it, but someone will always make it a reality.
Ovira was right; it was impossible for her to win.
Elsewhere, the battle between the two young queens might have continued for a considerable time. While the power of the Mystic Queens could certainly counter the Plague Queens, analyzing each pathology and finding the perfect way to restrain them, the Plague Queens were not static. They would evolve with the evolution of species, the development of civilization, and even the passage of time, giving rise to more forms and more complex mechanisms. The struggle between knowledge and knowledge that needs to be understood, truth and truth that awaits renewal, is always protracted, perhaps even continuing until the end of the universe.
But in the ancient land of Atorica, as long as the power of the Holy Grail remains, or rather, as long as the creatures of this land have not forgotten the legends of heroes and miracles, and are still willing to place their trust and faith in the hope before them, then Ovira is not only omniscient, but also omnipotent. An omniscient and omnipotent god, powerful enough to make one tremble, even vaguely resembling a great creator goddess—how could one possibly defeat her?
Unconsciously, Pereira overlapped the image of the girl before her with the gentle and loving mother in her memory. Then, she thought of things from long ago, so long ago that the world had just been born, and the innocent girls were unaware of the distant day when they would one day face each other as enemies. Back then, her mother said she was going to sleep, perhaps for a long time, entrusting the responsibility of protecting the world and maintaining its laws to her most trusted daughters. Before falling asleep, she called each daughter to her side, leaving behind a piece of advice about their lives, their destinies, and even all the stirring emotions within them.
That proverb was later regarded by the girls as the most important treasure in their lives, carefully sealed away, and never shared with each other, even among sisters. Therefore, Perec had no way of knowing what guidance or lessons Saint Charlotte or Carabosse had received from their mother, but she knew that it must have been inseparable from their later choices, because she herself had received the same.
At that time, her mother said to her, "You have a very sensitive heart, Perec. It helps you understand the world, but it also makes you feel afraid. Learn to fight for what you want, but sometimes, you also need to keep your distance from it."
She always remembered, never forgot. Even after the cataclysmic upheaval, when the young queen was scattered across the world, losing all her memories and emotions, and wandering the earth alone as a hated witch, she still remembered someone saying those words to her from the depths of her being. And when Tentis later found her, helped her regain her lost memories, and meaningfully asked if she still remembered what her mother looked like, that goes without saying.
Unfortunately, her mother never clearly explained which of those "wanted things" were worth striving for, and which should be avoided. At first, Perec thought He was intentionally holding back, leaving room for her daughter's growth; after all, there are some things in this world that can only be understood through personal experience. But as life on Earth accumulated, and the return to her homeland seemed so far away, other thoughts began to arise in the girl's mind: Could it be that her mother herself didn't know, and that's why she hadn't told her?
The moment this thought arose, even Perec was startled by her own, for it was so disrespectful, almost as if questioning her mother's authority. But then she thought, in truth, her mother had never cared about so-called authority, and never minded showing melancholy or trouble in front of her daughters, frankly admitting that she too had things she didn't understand. Although she had no intention of telling stories of the past at that time, it was only much later that Perec learned about the secrets of the Old World of Eden, and about herself and her three sisters whom she had never met.
One will invite her onto a path that has never been proven and is destined to be fraught with bloodshed; another will become her enemy, but neither of them is prepared for battle before they actually meet; and yet another is destined to suffer tormented between emotion and reason, ultimately forced to destroy herself in order to achieve a peaceful dream.
Before knowing all this, Perec simply felt a sense of relief, finding a tiny bit of psychological comfort in herself. She thought with a touch of relief that since even her mother couldn't figure it out, it must be the most mysterious enigma, the most profound problem, or the most difficult choice in the universe, even more so than destroying or creating a world. Given this, it seemed only natural that she hesitated and wavered in confusion.
This was just an excuse she made for herself, but who could blame her when Perec needed such an excuse most back then? She needs it now too, just not quite the same as before. In the past, she needed this excuse to fill the enormous emptiness and unease in her heart, allowing her to comfortably distance herself and presumptuously do things to save others, never realizing that these weren't the inevitable consequences of her actions, but rather the deep-seated psychological guilt planted long ago.
Now, she needs this excuse to comfort herself about repeating the same mistakes.
People often say, "Don't step into the same river twice." If someone decides to do the same mistake twice, then she needs to convince herself more than anyone else that it's not making a mistake, but correcting a past one. Ironically, she knows better than anyone else that it is making a mistake, repeating the past.
This is truly a sad, helpless, and ridiculous story.
Perec looked up from her distant memories and met the gaze of the girl with outstretched wings. As she stood lost in thought, Ovira simply watched without interrupting. Perhaps she felt victory was assured and saw no need to interrupt the self-reflection and sorrow of a defeated woman; or perhaps she had long seen through her opponent's vulnerability and knew that even without pressing her advantage, the plague witch, unable to withstand the pressure, would eventually break down... But whatever her thoughts, Perec was grateful, at least grateful that Ovira was willing to leave her with a dignified ending as the battle drew to a close.
Although that wasn't what Perec needed, nor what she wanted, all she could say to Ovira was—
“I truly have no chance of beating you,” she said softly. “But what if victory isn’t the whole point?”
Ovira was slightly taken aback, but Perec gave her almost no time to think and asked again, "Do you remember what Mother said to you?"
This question seemed abrupt, but with an astonishing intuition and keen logic, Ovira understood Perec's unspoken meaning, and her memory traced back to that distant moment. How could she not remember? Rather, she never dared to forget, even though it would occasionally sink below the surface, only to float back up like a lifeline, causing the drowning person to struggle desperately, trying to grasp it at all costs.
In her distant yet vivid memories, in her hazy dreams, and even at the very end of the story, Ovira heard her mother say to her: "You are a very intelligent child, Ovira, but I hope you will consider my next question with your own heart, rather than relying on the power of the king. I have heard that having too many emotions will shorten one's lifespan, and that intelligent people are often hurt by this world. But if you already knew this ending, would you have given up those precious emotions and strayed from the path of reason to protect yourself?"
This was no simple question, so Mother gave Ovira plenty of time to think it over, even promising to tell her the answer when she awoke next time. But as we all know, the great and merciful goddess, having accepted her destiny of eternal slumber, never considered the future of awakening again. Therefore, the time She gave Ovira to ponder was essentially unlimited—a question without time limits or a standard answer.
She remembered that distant moment. She remembered her mother's expression when she spoke those words, her composure and regret. Ovira, the girl named Aurora, and even the mysterious monarchy of long ago, had pondered this dilemma repeatedly in centuries of solitude. She could offer countless answers, each logically consistent, each standing the test of truth, but she never chose any of them. Because she gradually realized that what her mother wanted was never a correct answer, and perhaps there wasn't even a correct answer. In every stage of life, facing every test of the world, and questioning her own choices, the answers could be similar, yet sometimes vastly different.
Perhaps, her mother simply hoped that, amidst endless possibilities, she would always retain the ability to choose, maintain a clear understanding of the consequences of her choices, and remain sensitive to emotional values even on the most rational path.
This is precisely the most fundamental difference between her and Perecker, and also their most profound similarity.
Perec never had a choice. Or rather, she always realized, after making a choice, that she had already been pushed in that direction by some ancient force. Her sensitive heart allowed her to see the world clearly, and it also made her fear it; it made her yearn to approach those precious things, yet it also forced her to prepare to say goodbye the moment she got close. She regarded all her hesitation, repetition, and self-deception as character flaws or the tricks of fate, but she never truly accepted the possibility that the words her mother left her might not have been meant to teach her how to distinguish between "what can be fought for" and "what should be kept at a distance."
Her mother just wanted to tell her that these two things are often indistinguishable, and that she still had to make a choice.
It was only at this moment that Pereira vaguely grasped this meaning.
The rain subsided, and sunlight seeped through the gaps in the clouds, like a belated act of forgiveness. The Plague Witch felt her mottled butterfly wings dissolving, slowly merging into the raindrops that pierced her form, but she seemed oblivious, still smiling at Ovira—a lonely and ashamed smile: "It seems you remember very clearly, more clearly than I do. That's good, at least much better than me. If I had understood Mother's expectations sooner, perhaps things wouldn't have come to this. But I'm not saying this to gain your sympathy, but to tell you, Ovira, that each of us has our own destiny to face. Mother foresaw our fate long ago and tried to stop us from going down this path. But it was useless, because He couldn't stop us. Even an omniscient and omnipotent God has things He can't do."
Whether it's your mother or you now.
Ovira sensed something amiss in her tone and, unusually, felt a sense of foreboding. For the mysterious monarchy that controlled everything, this was more terrifying than the existence of unknown mysteries in the world. At least all mysteries had the possibility of being solved, but she couldn't see through people's hearts.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Perec?” she asked, frowning.
"It's nothing, I just wanted to tell you—"
Pereira smiled slightly, opening her arms as if to embrace her. Her tattered, withered butterfly wings fluttered, sending up a shower of beautiful, shimmering scales, like a tidal wave. Under the dark sky, in the chilling rain, the girl who had spread her wings to embrace the world appeared, in Ovira's eyes, with a strange and awe-inspiring divinity: "Today, I will die here."
"Destined to die quietly..." (End of Chapter)