Liberation of The Slaves

Chapter 64 – Echoes of a Love That Remains

— Celestia’s POV —

The room was silent, save for the soft rustling of my dress as I sat on the chair. My fingers trembled slightly as I traced the edges of the letter Elsa had given me. A simple envelope—unremarkable in appearance—yet it felt heavier than anything I had ever held.

I swallowed hard.

A part of me didn’t want to open it.

I already knew it would hurt.

For the past weeks, I had buried my emotions beneath layers of resolve, pushing forward without giving myself time to grieve. I had convinced myself that if I just kept moving, if I just kept searching for Daisy and Freed, then the ache in my chest would dull. That if I didn’t think about it too much, the reality of my parents’ deaths wouldn’t feel so suffocating.

But now… with this letter in my hands…

There was no running from it anymore.

I took a shaky breath and let my mana flow into the envelope. A faint glow pulsed along its surface before the seal gently unraveled. The parchment within was pristine, as if time itself had preserved it.

My heart pounded as I unfolded the letter.

Then, I saw the first line.

“My Dearest Celestia,”

My vision blurred.

The familiar strokes of their handwriting reached across time, pulling me into the past. It was as if I could hear their voices whispering the words to me, just like when I was a child and they would tuck me into bed with stories of their adventures.

But they weren’t here anymore.

And this was all they had left for me.

I clenched my jaw, forcing my eyes to keep reading, even as tears began to slide down my cheeks.

My Dearest Celestia,

If these words have reached your hands, it means that fate has been unkind to us, and we are no longer by your side to celebrate this day with you. More than anything, we wish we could have spoken to you in person, watched you smile, and told you just how proud we are of the person you have become.

We are sorry, Celestia. So, so sorry.

We never wanted to leave you like this—to place the weight of the world on your young shoulders, forcing you to grow up faster than you should have. You were always strong, always responsible, but we never wanted you to carry this burden alone.

We entrusted Daisy and Freed to you, but not because we wanted you to bear everything by yourself. You are their big sister, yes, but that does not mean you must carry all of their worries. Do you remember what we always told you? Family is not a duty. Family is a bond. You have them, and they have you—lean on each other. Laugh together, cry together, live together. We always told you to protect them, but do you know? We told them the same thing.

Because you are just as important.

Celestia, we won’t be there to guide you through the uncertainties of the world, so please, listen closely.

Be careful of the kindness of others. Not all smiles are pure, and not all soft words are honest. Some will offer you warmth only to take advantage of your trust. Some will claim to love you but hide cruelty behind sweet gestures. If you ever find someone to love, make sure that they do not only love you—but that they cherish Daisy and Freed as well.

No one can deceive a person who listens carefully. So always watch. Always listen. And always trust yourself and your siblings.

Even noble blood does not guarantee loyalty—there are those who would betray their own kin for wealth, power, or mere convenience. But you, Daisy, and Freed are different. No matter what happens, promise us that you three will remain together. Do not let greed, ambition, or even love tear you apart. Even if the whole world turns against you, as long as you have each other, you will never be alone.

Now, about your gifts—have you taken a liking to them?

We prepared them with all our love, hoping they would bring you both joy and protection. Daisy and Freed have their own gifts as well, left in the care of the Senian family. But we were not foolish enough to trust them completely. Within these gifts, we have left something only you three can use. Each piece carries your unique aura and mana—no one else can wield them.

Your dress, my dear, is more than just a gown for celebrations. You can wear it to a party, yes—but who knows what dangers may lurk in such places? So, I made sure you would never be defenseless.

When infused with your mana, the fabric will harden against both magical and physical attacks. There is a concealed subspace at the waist for storing weapons and potions, and the dress will repair itself should it sustain damage. Should you grow taller or change in any way, do not worry—it will reshape to fit you perfectly the moment you infuse your mana into it.

As for the necklace your father chose, its magic will help you in battle. By channeling your mana into the gem, you can increase your mana absorption rate for an hour. Once it deactivates, you can use it again whenever you need. It is a small advantage, but in the right moment, it could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

And the hairpins? Those have no magic at all. Ehe. They are simply something I thought would look beautiful in your hair.

But knowing you, you will hesitate to wear these gifts too often, afraid of ruining something so sentimental. So, we have left you and your siblings something else. Beneath our bed lies a hidden entrance, a room concealed with magic that can only be opened if all three of you channel your mana into it at the same time. Inside, you will find treasures we gathered in our adventures. But be warned, Celestia—you cannot take them for yourself alone. You must bring Daisy and Freed with you.

We still have so much to say. So many things we wanted to teach you, moments we longed to share. But no paper could ever hold all the words we wish to tell you.

Ah—one last thing. You may not want to burn or discard this letter, so we made sure that only you and your siblings will ever be able to read it. To others, it will appear as nothing more than a blank sheet. That way, you can keep it close, read it whenever you wish, and never worry about anyone else knowing its contents.

Happy Birthday, our dearest Celestia.

We love you. We always have, and we always will.

No matter where we are, no matter how far apart we may seem—our love transcends time, space, and even death itself.

So never forget—you will always be our daughter, our pride, and our greatest treasure.

With eternal love,

Your mom and dad

The parchment trembled in my hands, its surface damp where my tears had fallen, blurring the ink in places. My fingers traced the words, lingering on the last line as if holding onto my parents' voices, their warmth, their love—now just distant echoes in a cruel, silent world.

I didn’t want to let go.

But I had to.

The longer I stared, the more the weight in my chest grew, pressing down until I could hardly breathe.

With shaking hands, I guided my mana into the envelope, watching as it sealed itself once more. The magic shimmered faintly, enclosing the letter in a protective embrace, as if safeguarding their final words from the ravages of time. Carefully, I tucked it away among my clothing in my bag, as close to my heart as possible.

But the moment I pulled away, the emptiness crept in.

A gaping void, hollow and merciless, opening beneath me.

Then, without another thought, I collapsed onto the bed.

The weight of my grief struck me down as if my legs had given out, sending me crumbling onto the mattress. My hands clutched at the sheets, fingers twisting them in a futile attempt to ground myself, as if I could wring out the unbearable ache surging through me. The weight of sorrow crashed over me like a tidal wave, dragging me to a place where light could not reach.

My face pressed against the pillow, and the dam inside me shattered.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

A cry tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained.

My voice, muffled by the fabric, was swallowed by the room’s suffocating silence. But it wasn’t enough.

I screamed again, louder, longer, until my lungs burned.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

Tears streamed freely, hot and unending, drenching my pillow. The grief, the frustration, the unbearable regret—I let it all pour out, choking on the overwhelming flood of emotions.

<“Stupid! Idiot! I’m nothing but a fool!”>

My thoughts lashed against me like a storm, the words piercing deeper than any blade.

<“Why did I fail? Why couldn’t I protect them!?”>

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

I buried my face deeper, curling into myself as if I could disappear, as if I could escape the crushing agony pressing down on me from all sides. But there was no escape. No relief.

The walls swallowed my anguish, throwing it back at me like a cruel mockery. My arms wrapped around the pillow as if it could anchor me, but the grief was too vast, too consuming.

My body trembled violently, racked with sobs I couldn’t control. My breaths came in jagged gasps, each one more painful than the last.

I thought I had prepared myself for this. I thought I had steeled my heart against the pain.

I was wrong.

<“I was supposed to protect them… I swore I would always be there… So why!?”>

The realization clawed at me, sharp and merciless.

<“Daisy… Freed… I don’t even know where you are… I don’t know if you’re safe… I don’t know if you’re alive!”>

My fingers dug into my scalp, nails scraping against my skin as if I could claw away the torment inside my mind. The room felt like it was closing in, suffocating me, trapping me within this endless spiral of guilt and failure.

The realization hit like a dagger to the chest. Daisy and Freed were gone. Scattered across the unknown. They could be anywhere, afraid, alone, waiting for me…

And I had no way to reach them.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

My body shook as sobs wracked through me, drowning in the despair of my own powerlessness. The room blurred into nothingness, a void where time lost its meaning, where only my pain remained, raw and unending.

<“Mom, Dad… I let you down. I failed the promise I made to you. I wasn’t strong enough… I wasn’t good enough.”>

Tears pooled onto the sheets, soaking them beneath my cheek. My body curled tighter, my shoulders shaking, my chest heaving with silent sobs when my voice finally broke.

<“What if they hate me? What if they think I abandoned them?”>

The thought struck me harder than anything else, stealing the air from my lungs.

<“What if… they gave up on me? What if… they gave up on their life?”>

No. No, I couldn't bear that.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

Another scream ripped from my throat, hoarse and broken. My body convulsed with the force of my sobs, my heart hammering as if it might shatter under the sheer weight of my grief.

Time lost all meaning.

I cried until my voice gave out, until my throat was raw and aching. I cried until my body was weak, until exhaustion clung to me like a suffocating shroud.

And still, the pain did not fade.

A fresh wave of tears surged forth. I let it consume me. Let it take everything.

An hour passed.

Or maybe longer.

The storm within me raged, tearing apart everything I had tried to hold together.

At last, the sobs slowed. I lay there, eyes swollen, my breath coming in weak gasps as I stared blankly at the tear-streaked fabric beneath me. My body ached, heavy with exhaustion. My chest ached, my limbs felt like lead, and yet, deep inside, something else stirred beneath the grief.

A whisper.

A flicker of something cold, something sharp.

Slowly, I forced myself to sit up, the motion sluggish and heavy. My gaze lifted, meeting my own reflection in the mirror across the room.

The girl who stared back at me was not the same as before.

Tear-streaked. Eyes hollow, rimmed with red. A ghost of the smile I once wore, now lost in the ruins of my sorrow.

But beneath the exhaustion, beneath the grief, a flame still burned.

Weak, but unyielding.

I raised a trembling hand.

*Slap*

The sting jolted me, sending a sharp pulse through my cheek.

<“No more weakness. No more self-pity.”>

I inhaled, shaky but determined.

<“Mom… Dad… I will not falter again.”>

<“Forgive my failures, but I swear—I will redeem my promise.”>

<“Even if I must traverse the ends of the world, I will find them. I will save them. I will protect them.”>

Slowly, the haze of sorrow lifted, giving way to something colder. Sharper. A resolve forged in grief, tempered by loss.

<“Daisy, Freed… wait for me. Your elder sister is coming.”>

The smile I once wore so easily was gone—buried in the ashes of my innocence.

In its place, my reflection stared back at me, eyes burning with quiet, unshakable determination.

A new Celestia was born.

“Oh, Celes, you finally ca-.”

Leaning against the wall outside my room, Karin greeted me with her usual casualness. But the moment our eyes met, she paused mid-sentence.

Her sharp gaze flickered with understanding, and after a brief silence, a soft, knowing smile curved her lips.

“I see. It seems you’ve made up your mind.”

She didn’t ask what had changed. She didn’t need to.

But just as I thought she might leave it at that—

*Flick.*

“Ouch!”

I winced as her finger snapped against my forehead. My hand shot up to rub the sore spot as I scowled at her, confusion furrowing my brows.

“What was that for?”

Karin merely crossed her arms, tilting her head in mild amusement.

“That won’t do,” she said, her voice laced with playful reprimand. “It’s fine to carry that look in private, but in public? Especially during the parade? Tsk.” She clicked her tongue. “With that face, you’ll have people running in the opposite direction.”

I frowned slightly, and she sighed.

“Try to smile—even if it’s fake.” Her tone softened. “No one expects the same smile as before, just something to keep people from asking questions. That’s part of your duty, too.”

Her words lingered, and I hesitated.

A smile, huh?

The idea of forcing one felt almost unnatural now, but… she had a point.

Lifting my chin slightly, I attempted a small, practiced smile—one that barely reached my eyes.

Karin studied me for a moment before nodding in approval.

“Well, it’s not perfect, but it’s a start.” A playful smirk crossed her lips. “You’ll get better with practice.”

I arched my brow. “You sound like you speak from experience.”

She chuckled, shrugging one shoulder. “Well, sort of. But that’s a story for another time.”

Turning on her heel, she gestured ahead.

“Now, let’s get going. The parade won’t wait.”