Arcana Zero: The Fool's Journey

A hill of corpses. Blood rained from the heavens as it could not find water to fuel its roaring tempest. The winds blew hard and overturned multiple corpses, spreading the carnage to nearby areas. A single figure stood atop this gruesome sight. Female. Hair up to her shoulders. Her eyes closed, not to avert her eyes, but in exhaustion. The blood pelted her face, staining her black hair to a dark red. In her hand, she held a single sunflower. On her back protruded three swords of varying sizes, each one digging into her flesh, drawing much blood. She falls to her knees.

If anyone would see beyond the death and devastation, it would be a hill of fallen blades and shields. If anyone were to be there today, they would only describe it as one word.

Hell.

At one moment, the girl opened her eyes for one last time, and saw heaven open up. She felt tears flow down her cheeks as she released a wail open pain. For the first time since she became a warrior, she cried. She reached out her hand to the sky, and grasped the light so desperately out of reach. To reach a place other than Hell. She then thought this:

"Can I have one wish?"

Her life was never hers. So at the end of it, she wanted Something. Anything.

"Then..." with her quickly drying throat, she asked heaven, "...please, grant me a second chance... to live..."

But even then, she knew, there were no second chances in life, and she was about to experience her end. Death was the final, and only destination for any human life.

She died on that hill of corpses, at the very center of Hell, its sole victor and loser, looking up at the sky with the tiniest hope.

At that moment, Heaven decided to make an exception.

She woke up.

"You're awake? Good." A male voice beside her spoke in a soft and warm tone.

She looked to her side and saw a handsome face half covered by locks of golden hair.

"Where am I?" she asked. She no longer felt the indescribable pain. Nor is her throat dry to death. She was covered with a white robe, stained red with blood. She guessed it was hers.

Then she heard her own voice. Higher. Younger.

"If I were to say... You're in Israel." he answered.

"I don't know that place."

"In a few hundred years you will."

"Who are you?" She asked. The man simply laughed

.

"I am but an old fool built to die. If I were to name myself, then I would be known as Merlin." He said. She knew he wasn't telling the truth. Still, she let it go.

She tried to sit up, but when she did, she didn't feel much weight on herself, and ended up bending. Her forehead touched her knees.

"Hmm?" Merlin mused. "Well, I guess that's youth. After you've recovered, go back to your parents. I have to go soon." He dismissed her.

She tried to remember her name, but couldn't. All she could remember was Hell. When she leaves this place, which was a rugged tent-like structure, she had nowhere to go.

"Can I stay with you?" she asked the man, who was beginning to leave.

"If you so choose," was the only thing he said.

So she became Merlin's apprentice.

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"It seems that I've been reverted back to being a child." She found herself looking at her naked form in a mirror one day. She was way shorter than she used to be. Her breasts have yet to blossom, and her hair was long, reaching her back. "I've been reborn. So my wish came true!"

She has been travelling with Merlin for a long time now. Nearly a year has passed since she became the mage's apprentice, and she has shown promise far beyond his own. He admitted that with a few years of training, she would surpass him, and she would leave him. So he took to teaching her the ways of magic, both defensive to defend herself, and offensive, to defend herself, as he knew the world was an unforgiving place, that a child's life could end even before it left the womb. He wanted her to live, far more than she did.

But he would never say that.

No. His golden hair swayed in the wind, starkly contrasting hers. His eyes weary with age, yet his face was the epitome of youth. White robe to cover deep scars. He wonders if she even remembers him. He had. He had seen her true form. Again and again and again. He was with her in Hell. Both of them went in and out of it. Again and again and again.

He never died and she never truly lived. That was the cycle he and she was cursed with.

The cycle never ended.

Her name then was Ain.

Her name now was Aria.

His name now was Merlin.

His name then...

Merlin shed a tear. He could feel it. She was to die again. And he was to find her again. Again and again and again and again and again.

"Aria!" he shouted, but to no avail. Her body pierced by multiple swords, spreading her blood on the ground. Soldiers cheered as another witch was killed and God's holiness upheld. He could not do anything again. He felt useless. Again. He screamed.

The earth shook, and the heavens were ripped apart. The earth swallowed the soldiers' and Aria's body whole, down they went into the burning magma, screaming as it burned their flesh. Then he cried. Screamed out into the universe. After a long time, which to him was not long at all, he stood up, shrivelled and dried, and denied of death.

He set out to find her again.