Shadow Slave

"Dusk... Sybil of the Fallen Grace."

Sunny shivered.

Of course, he remembered who Dusk was. He was wearing a tunic called Shroud of Graceless Dusk, after all - the Transcendent Memory of the Sixth Tier he had received for slaying the Terror of LO49.

...That damned horror.

If he were to try and assign numbers to the enemies he had faced in Antarctica based on how many mental scars they left him with, the beautiful flower of floating white silk would be squarely placed second, right behind the Winter Beast. Even Goliath, who had literally killed him, did not leave as harrowing of an impression.

Of course, Dusk was most likely neither dead nor corrupted yet in the Nightmare. She was still a human, and seemed to be ruling a place called Fallen Grace. Since Sunny and Nephis wanted to reach the civilization of the Great River and find the sybils, this destination was perfect.

...It was a little bit too perfect, even.

Ananke had answered one of the most important questions they had. The improbable coincidence of them finding her ketch just when they needed it was no coincidence at all. She had come knowingly, expecting to find them.

But who was it that had instructed her where to find them? In her dreams, no less?

Who was pulling the strings of this Nightmare behind the scenes?

'Is it, perhaps, the last sybil herself?'

Sunny frowned, knowing that he would not find the answer any time soon. The earliest opportunity was probably going to be when he came face-to-face with the Sybil of the Fallen Grace... again.

He sighed.

"...Fallen Grace? How far is that?"

Old Ananke hesitated for a few moments.

that I won't be able to

her eyes closing slightly. It almost

however, the old woman shook

far as I can go, my Lord and Lady. Ah... you see, we daemon followers weren't welcome here, in Ariel's Tomb, either. They chased us away, and we

Nephis looked

between the locals of the Great River? Would it be dangerous for

mean, that Weave only used to be

Nephis spoke cautiously:

want to put you in

The old woman smiled.

Lady. Do not worry about me... I am... of

words became slurred. It was obvious that the old woman was growing too tired to continue

seemed to have understood that,

Ananke raised her hands. In

stared in bewilderment as a whirlwind of white sparks appeared in

is... she is

one of the ancient humans. It was

a wooden box appeared on the deck in front of them. Ananke opened it with shaking hands and took out

tablecloth, a carafe of wine, a painted ceramic teapot with steam rising from its spout, two small

looked freshly cooked. The items

smell spread through the

the tablecloth and offered the

after braving the horrors of the future. Please,

bench with effort. Sitting down on it,

next moment,

steering oar swayed, turning the bow of the boat downstream. Soon, they were sailing across

them were completely exhausted and incredibly hungry, but... they