act29side

I believe you came to verify a future?

I think... I've already gotten my confirmation, in a way.

Why, exactly, do people develop a 'self'? And how does one become strong enough to go up against an approaching crisis, or a predestined doom?

We all exist within 'order.'

Rules and commandments serve as Laterano's anchors and cables, enabling faith to traverse the entire lands and providing a target for the prayers of believers. The law is our piety.

'Leithanien,' However, is the result of Güldenesgesatz. Through its systems, aesthetics, models, and morals, ten different regions with no common cultural identity joined together as a unity that has lasted a thousand years.

Experience inherited through generations, laws forged in writing, concepts established by convention...

These exist a priori, and from it, an 'order' is formed. They guide how we should think, speak, and deal with ourselves as well as others.

...And so it becomes our instinct, engraved into our very flesh and blood.

But the order has its imperfections. It is rigid, unequal, and indifferent. It separates us.

Laterano's order offers redemption to its believers, but the gates of Paradise do not open for the Sarkaz. It refuses to provide bread for their empty stomachs or roofs to shelter them from the rain.

Ægir and Iberia face the same dangerous ocean, but their respective orders forbid them to keep watch at the same lighthouse.

Our order rebels against us, and we yearn for it still, calling for its perfection.

...Only 'order' is desired.

Laterano's laws hover barely above a hundred words, and Leithanien's theme has long been concise.

Their minds shallow. Their pride false. Their senses dull.

They regard only the dead as eternal. By this they are timid, yet also fearless.

What is your answer then, Sankta? What do you desire?

...'Emotion'.

We exist in the 'present,' a river whose running flow is our feelings, our discordant and capricious reflections of the moment we are living in.

Feelings build into emotion, and emotions shape our souls.

Our emotions are varied and profound. We are the love, the hatred, the appreciation, and the lament we harbor when these emotions call upon our reflection, and through these encounters we come to understand life itself.

They were the torch we wielded to repel the shadow of death long before the birth of laws, religion, politics, or science. We were born as prodigies in utilizing our emotions.

And thus, <i>we</i> are connected.

Are you referring to the empathy between the Sankta?

Indeed.

Language is not without its limit, and what it finds an impossible chasm to leap over, empathy arches across in an emotion's quiver. It's a precious gift to my kin, through which we can read each other's feelings.

But it is also utterly unfair. Its creeds are too vague, and its benediction too narrow, like a rule written only to serve Laterano's order.

So you crave a 'true empathy?'

You seek an empathy from within, with a wider yet deeper range than what you call 'emotion,' that connects everyone on all lands as one?

An interesting delusion, Sankta.

I've searched, I've tried... and failed.

Would you imagine it? In a dilapidated monastery, Sankta and Sarkaz had been fighting side-by-side against life's miseries and their own wavering faith, all to protect a hard-earned garden?

But when true disaster came knocking at our doors, we found that our 'kin,' who had understood and accepted us for six decades, still harbored doubts in their hearts, fissures in their faiths. We were always strangers, nothing more.

Emotions are as real as the fragility of our minds.

We are good at avoiding pain, experts, even, at muting ourselves on it. Conversely, this helps mask our own feebleness.

As a result, people cannot feel what others feel. Tragedies will always transpire as long as this barrier remains.

And you and your music endeavor to unshackle people by confronting them with their true hearts, just as one would polish an instrument on sandpaper.

You attempt to strengthen their souls by guiding them through their regrets.

Is this the duty you have long since imposed upon yourself to perform?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Because to this day, I have been seeking confirmation.

I have a future in mind.

Continue.

In that future, everyone possesses a most powerful soul.

Our strengths are unequal, unlike yours, where a tenacious soul can't be shaken by anything in this mortal realm, and even death is powerless to wipe away your struggles, pursuits, and conquests.

Others are like those Cora, Yulia, or the souls in the palace. They are unconcerned with greater undertakings, and simply love the lives they live—but still they dare to fight against the turbulent waves that are engulfing them.

Of course, we will persist in our pursuit of happiness, but more importantly, we will no longer avoid pain, or be ashamed of it.

We, as people, should suffer, and we will suffer.

Our apathy, doubt, confusion, remorse, shame, grief... These complex emotions will no longer leave scars deep in our hearts, nor will they remain untouchable beyond the realm of words.

We will no longer shy away from self-expression, nor will we struggle to find ways to do so.

We will understand how to live with ourselves, and live strong we will.

Sankta, the results of your performances are often unsatisfactory. You should know that for most, emotions are inadequate guidelines, and wholly following one's heart will only lead to dire consequences.

Crafty is the Creator, who, for each house built, has orchestrated a blizzard that brings its ruination.

Yet you hope for your future to include... everyone?

An amusing delusion.

No, Your Majesty—it <i>must</i> include everyone.

Indeed, your existence is an exception to the laws and reasons that govern these great lands.

Born from order, yet ruling over it, your incredible personality, formidable strength, boundless knowledge, adventurous spirit, and subversive insight... all condensed into an essence of one.

You have glimpsed beyond the horizon of perception into the black woods of mystery, and even wield the power to traverse the unknown in your hand.

But they are also the root of your madness, your downfall...

These extraordinary qualities, and the nigh unattainable achievements built upon them; they cease to exist with your demise.

It's a cage trapping us all, and we should not expect any individual to break it open, however powerful its soul is.

Therefore, <i>everyone</i> needs a strong soul, they need the power to 'empathize.'

We will be able to share our knowledge, our experiences, our abilities and insights, all via our emotional bonds.

Then, there would be no crisis able to undo our ties, no defeat able to wear down our rapport.

There will be no truths unrevealable, no pain incomprehensible, no obstruction unsurpassable. Our power comes from our individual strengths.

We would be distinctly ourselves, yet as one.

And when adversity and the unknown are at the gate, they would find our sanctuary unbreakable, as our collective emotions have formed a wall of steel.

<i>Thus</i> I am here. If a 'strong soul' can truly exist, strong enough to resist a predestined doom, then by no means should I ignore it—the future.

Much have you witnessed and experienced, and devoted you are to the power of emotions.

Why, then, did you not seek it from yourself, Sankta?

Are you... reading my mind?

You've been doing this from the moment I arrived at your throne... Is this your 'performance'?

A performance that befits a performer like you, pilgrim.

Everything in my Pavillon, I command at will. They are <i>mine</i>.

Accumulated guilt?

Unreconcilable sorrow?

Hopeless disappointment?

Powerful courage?

Endless regret?

Unwavering affection?

There is no 'performance.' No performance will allow such cruelty and arbitrary.

You do not come to a common understanding, nor are his joy and sorrow yours. You have thrown open the gate to your mind, and he is the guest and the host.

Leithanian history has recorded how the Witch King reformed and rearranged his people, his orchestra and army. Disobedience is not tolerated nor possible.

Sankta. If emotions had forms, by all rights you should be the fullest individual I have ever met.

But I sense in you nothing. Why?

Because you use yourself as a mirror, reflecting the emotions of others. Nein, you do not see and tell. You receive.

You are a receptacle whose content is overflowing with the emotions of others, with no room for your own. You feel what they feel, but at the same time feel <i>nothing</i>.

You undo the knots of others while further tightening yours, a state that resembles only chaos.

Arturia feels a pair of hands on her.

They stretch into the lakebed of her consciousness, and do not stop there, but stir up the mud at the bottom, arriving at the void in the very depths.

Suffocation resembles a rushing river, scrubbing every nook and cranny of her consciousness as it thoroughly engulfs her within.

Hm?

I see.

I saw your only truth.

The Witch King remains silent for a long time as he stares at the person before his throne.

Arturia has never felt her heart beat as fast as it is now.

Sankta, the future you describe does have its value.

Perhaps it will find its place in the river of time.