This is the first of three epilogue chapters for this arc. We will tie all loose ends within these chapters.
ED: clover, xtostos, eristol
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First day of April, 1877
Finally, one of my dragons hatched.
There are no signs that the other two eggs will hatch, and I heard the adults saying that it is an evil omen.
I want to run away from here and hide in the secret room.
By the way, is there really an angel?
(They were written in very small characters at the bottom of the page)
On a certain day in May, 1877
I asked about angels.
It seems the being called ‘angel’ cannot be an angel if their true identity is exposed.
I asked for the reason, but it seems that person also doesn’t know about it.
So it seems that you should pretend not to notice an angel even if you know that they are an angel.
In that case, it can’t be helped but go along with it and pretend.
I wish there is someone who would feign ignorance about my own true identity.
On a certain day in January, 1878
Does a dragon knight who cannot ride a dragon and fly in the sky have a reason to exist?
Then ‘I wonder if an angel who cannot fulfill your wish has any reason to exist’, that person replied.
Isn’t it cowardly to reply a question with a question?
Recently, I always find myself in the cathedral whenever I have bad things happen to me.
On a certain day of June, 1880
I found a small light.
She is a small alchemist who came from the west.
When I tried to tell that person, she said that this is love.
But, why does it feel kind of inappropriate to express this feeling in a single word?
I wish that the star who came from a distant place can become mine now.
(A strikethrough line had been drawn from the top of the description)
Auguste was leaning against a pillar of the cathedral and stood there.
He relied on the few lights that were shining in the dimly lit room and flipped through the pages of the diary in his hand.
Auguste felt a strange gap in his memory after a series of big uproots that took place on the day of the tournament.
He felt a faint sense of discomfort and a deep sense of loss.
Looking for an answer for his unreasonable loneliness that he believed to be only his imagination, he re-read his diary after reaching a conviction.
In the diary, there were written discussion about angels, events that took place behind the history, advices on how to connect with the dragons, etc. that he exchanged with a mysterious person.
The name and identity of that person was completely written in an ambiguous manner.
However, when he first read the descriptions such as the history interpretation that felt as if the person had personally witnessed the events, knowledge of theology and the events of hundreds of years ago, he felt as if the person was a real angel.
It was absurd.
It would have been more realistic to think that Auguste had an imaginary friend who he created to survive his own difficult circumstances.
But, he couldn’t think that it was just an imaginary friend.
Auguste felt an apparent difference in personality between himself and the person who he wrote about in the diary.
That person sometimes felt like an older sister, sometimes like a teacher, and other times felt like a friend.
She knew things that Auguste didn’t know, and she also took actions that Auguste couldn’t predict.
Surely, there used to be an angel here.
But there is no one here anymore.
A sense of nostalgia and loneliness got stuck in his chest.
Auguste closed the diary, he thought of his friend who he couldn’t remember any longer, and was about to run away towards the empty sky.
A cry of a cat echoed and broke the gloomy atmosphere.
Before he knew it, there was a golden cat near Auguste’s feet.
“Huh? What are you doing alone in a place like this, are you lost?”
Auguste put his hands on both sides of the cat and hugged her.
Whether it was due to exhaustion or because the cat was longer than he expected, Auguste’s face unintentionally broke into a smile.
“You, I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere.
Does that person own a cat?”
The cat narrowed her eyes in a carefree way as she was being held.
She was a charming cat who wasn’t afraid of people.
When he looked carefully, a leather collar was wrapped around her neck.
In front of Auguste, the charms in the shape of a star and a wave attached on her collar were swaying.
“Aah, indeed……I thought that I have seen you somewhere before.”
Escaping from his arms like a magic trick, the cat landed on the floor soundlessly.
Auguste looked back towards the direction the cat was running towards.
A girl was standing under the bright light falling from the stained glass.
It was the daughter of the Duke of Aurelia, Erica.
The light reflected on her golden hair created an angel’s halo.
She had lustrous white skin as if transparent which wasn’t burned by the sun.
When her eyes met Auguste’s, Erica smiled faintly.
Her green eyes that were of a shade like shallow waters gave off a cold impression even though they were beautiful.
She was wearing a deep ultramarine dress like the night sky which covered her neck tightly.
Her modest appearance which had an austere atmosphere like a nun was in harmony with this place which is called a sanctuary.
“Good afternoon, Erica.”
“You have been keeping my cat company. Thank you very much.”
“It’s because I relatively like cats.
They don’t care about being held, and we don’t know what they are thinking.”
“Ah, I understand that.”
The cat avoided and escaped the hands of Erica which were stretched out as she nodded.
Auguste and Erica smiled bitterly at each other.
Erica is somewhat like a cat, Auguste thought so.
Although she was the one who came close suddenly, when he tried to catch her she would escape as soon as possible.
Her wariness was high, and although at first glance she seemed to be frank, she would never open her heart.
She would never reveal her hand, even when she had eyes that seemed be able to see through other people’s heart.
Even though she was surrounded by a lot of people, she seemed to be cut off from those around her.
A mysterious girl who was capricious, unduly distant, aloof and held some secrets.
For Auguste who refused to live with others, her sense of distance was preferable.
“By the way, where is the golem that is in charge of holding your baggage?”
“I think he will come soon. Because there are his favorite mural paintings over here.”
“How extraordinary, it is a golem with artistic sense huh.”
“Ah……of course, I just set it to look as if there is a will.”
“You are meticulous, Erica.”
Despite being a young girl of eight years old, Erica was an excellent alchemist.
Auguste had seen a few golems before, but he had never seen an elaborate one like the golem she had made.
The golem made of star steel and named ‘Tirnanog’ moved as if it was alive.
As they were talking about it, Tirnanog emerged with a large leather bag.
There were many magic tools like wands packed in the bag.
When she noticed the footsteps of Tirnanog, Goldberry who was sleeping by the sculpture near the skylight woke up.
When Goldberry landed on the shoulder of Tirnanog, Tirnanog trembled as if it was frightened.
Auguste seized the back of Goldberry who was jumping around.
“Goldberry, please behave like a lady.”
When Goldberry nodded, she landed a few steps away from Tirnanog.
As she walked slowly in front of Tirnanog, she bowed with her wings spread quietly.
Tirnanog also observed her for a few seconds and then lowered its head as if in response.
“Every time I see it, Erica’s golem is clever.”
“Ahaha……the current technology sure is wonderful.”
“Now that we are all present, shall we go?
……Uh, the best place is gone.
If there is a place where you want to go, Erica, I will take you there.”
The Island of Messenger where the Advent Festival ended had a somewhat lonely atmosphere.
Auguste liked the unique loneliness after the festival.
I hope Erica likes it too, Auguste walked while thinking such a thing.
He heard something falling behind him.
When Auguste looked back, his eyes met with the cat who was there before he knew it.
In front of the cat, Auguste’s diary had fallen down with the opened pages facing down.
“Aah, it fell out of my pocket, huh.
I’m sorry. Are you surprised?”
Auguste picked up the diary and casually ran his eyes on the opened page.
He gazed at the page which was supposed to be a blank sheet and stopped moving for a while.
“Is there something wrong?”
“No, never mind. Let’s go.”
Auguste put the diary in his pocket and urged Erica.
Only the cat knew that the grief of loss had disappeared from that expression.
The day after the Advent Festival, 1880
Erica and I went around the city.
I can hardly wait for the day when I can see her again.
Apparently, the meddling angel has hidden her figure, but she seems to be still watching the people.
(A description was written on the next page with a handwriting of a person other than Auguste)
You can already fly alone.
Someday, may those hands reach your star.
22 thoughts on “Chapter 51: Auguste Ignitia’s Diary”
It is interesting to see someone’s view of MC from another perspective. I didn’t think she was a cat, but now that I think about it, she kinda is. After all, she keeps her traumas with “love” to herself (although it would be practically impossible to explain it in a way that didn’t mention past life) and the 7 death flags of the future. So it is kinda true that she doesn’t open up all the way, although part of it is likely unconscious behavior due to trauma.
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well she got stabbed to death by a friend like a month ago
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I don’t believe it was even a “friend” so much as an obsessive stalker yandere that she barely knew (at most, she did one nice thing like pick up a pencil or something which was the trigger for obsession, and then they stabbed her later on due to their perception that she “betrayed” them). And that was only the latest one and she had actually had trouble with a less severe (she didn’t die or I think get physically hurt, but I believe she was threatened and intimidated as well as shunned by her peers I believe) yandere in school. In any case, she is certainly a tad skittish due to it.
I’m also unsure of the timeline, but I do believe you are right that it hasn’t even been a year (probably less than three months?) since she remembered past life.
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I just get the image of a cat trying to stealthily write something with quill and ink while internally sweating “Damn my cute, pink little paw pads!” XD
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Kinda reminds me of the cat in Persona 5 trying to pick a lock with his paws xD
I’ve never thought that Erica was cold – I keep thinking she’s slightly a bumbling adorable kitten…. but that’s an interesting perspective. And the ending was so bittersweet
well she got stabbed to death by a friend like a month ago so it makes sense
Probably bec we are in her POV most of the time.. but Anne did mention a smiling poker face. And the way she is so hopelessly dense to any sort of flirtation or hints of affection from anyone other than her family kinda makes her cold in a sense… just like a marble statue in an extreme way
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Seems like all her friends know that there is something wrong with her. Even the dense Klaus saw in the ruins that she sometimes have a look “that have up on life” :/.
Well even Palug suspect that she had some traumas with love when she failed spectacularly her riddle and responded “despair” xD
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Thanks for the chapter!
THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR BEING AWESOME! ! ! ! !
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I like how both Erica and Auguste compare each other to cats. The characterization is similar to. Such as how both will engage others while still remaining distant.
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Thanks for the chapter
By the way I can’t find the Eduart’s extra chapter
I’ll post it after chapter 53 😀
Thanks for the chapter
Thanks for the chapter!
It’s a good ratio of bitter and sweet and magic, just like a good gin and tonic.
I think her image was built like that because in her mind all of them are characters. Someone to be used to fix her future or maybe I’m looking at it too much with a cold eye.
No, in the first arc this was slightly explained. She has ‘dead eyes that seem to have given up on life’ (as Klaus said) because of her first life traumas.
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Ooh I seemed to have forgotten. Whoops
Speak for your own cat. Mine hates being picked up, and I’ve got the scar to prove it. Damn hooked claws