Chapter 68: Second Chances

  “Say, when you could have a second chance in life, what would you do with it?” the elf asked hesitantly while fidgeting with her fingers. Then she added, “Not that you need one, Lily. You’re still so young…”

  Clara looked back toward the view beyond their balcony. Even though it was night, Xerathene was glowing. Their guild hall stood on the Imperial Hill in the imperial guild district, high enough that they could look down over the city like it was a painted map. Thousands, if not millions, of lights burned below them, and at night the city always looked as if it was on fire. It was an endless ocean of lights stretching all the way to the horizon.

  To Clara, Xerathene felt like what she imagined Rome might have looked like at its peak. Only more chaotic, more crowded, and, in its own way, even more imperial. She loved the city, even though it wasn’t real, because for her it was home. It was the one place where she could be her true self.

  Lily’s calm crimson eyes met her gaze, and the demoness grinned.

  “Not that young,” Lily said. “Also, I’m even older when you think about the fact that we basically double our lifetime when we’re staying online here.”

  She paused, and her expression shifted. The grin stayed, but it softened a little.

  “Clara, I could say a lot of cheesy things. Like don’t waste it. Don’t do the same mistakes again. Don’t choose your pride over people. Something like that.”

  Then the demoness beside Clara leaned her forearms on the balcony railing and looked out at the city again.

  “But your future self is always going to be someone different from your current self,” she continued. “If you try to live by rules you wrote for yourself in the past, you’ll just end up trapped in them. So instead, just use the chance to figure out who you actually want to be. Leave the parts behind that you don’t want to carry anymore.”

  Clara watched her quiet for a moment. While Lily turned her head back toward her.

  “So, my answer is simple,” Lily said. “If I got a second chance in life, I’d use it to do what makes me happy. And right now, that’s hanging around with you guys.”

  She smiled like it was the easiest truth in the world, and Clara couldn’t quite pinpoint what that did to the tight spot in her chest. So, she just nodded, her eyes still focused on the city under them.

  Clara had known Lily for around two years at this point. And if you counted the time inside Xantia, where everything ran at double speed, then maybe it was closer to three. Still, Clara kept wondering who Lily really was in real life. They had talked a lot over the years, but Clara still didn’t know much about her. She knew her age, the city she lived in, and a handful of small details that slipped out now and then. Everything else stayed behind a wall Lily never fully lowered.

  But there were a few things Lily had told Clara and not the others. Not because Clara had demanded it, but because they had certain things in common, and because Clara understood the real-world side of problems better than anyone in the guild. She’d worked with legal issues her whole life after all, and Lily knew that. So sometimes, when something got too real, Lily asked Clara.

  That should’ve made Clara feel trusted, maybe, but instead it made her worry more, and it only fed her curiosity about the girl. The secrets didn’t answer the big questions. They just confirmed there was more behind that wall than Lily ever let on in normal conversations.

  And yet, even if Clara only knew her online, and even if Lily was twenty years younger than her and still so secretive about herself, she had become a real friend in that time. Lily had helped her more than Clara wanted to admit, mostly by listening. Lily always acted like she was joking around, always playing the dramatic demoness, but when Clara talked about something serious, Lily didn’t brush it off.

  She swallowed, then finally turned her head a little toward Lily.

  “Thanks… and I’m sorry. It should be me who listens to your worries, not the other way around. After all, I’m the oldest here…”

  Lily let out an amused snort. “Oh my. You’re not old. You’re not even as old as my mother.” She turned her head toward Clara with an amused look on her face. “And besides, you’re just my friend, Clara, so stop this crap already. Everyone needs someone to talk to.”

  Clara’s mouth twitched, halfway to a smile, halfway to a sigh.

  “I know,” she admitted. “It’s just… weird sometimes. I keep thinking I should have my life together more than I do.”

  Lily’s grin returned, but her eyes stayed on Clara this time.

  “Newsflash,” she said, “no one has their life together. Some people just got better at lying about it.”

  Clara huffed softly, and it surprised her how close that came to a laugh. Then she added carefully, “You know, if you ever need help, I mean in the real world, you can always call me. I’m a rich divorced woman with far too much time. One call and I’ll stand in your doorframe. Also, I’d love to meet you all later this year somewhere, and I’d pay for it if I have to.”

  “You don’t need to pay for anything, Clara,” Lily said. “Though I’d love to see you too. It was sad that you and the others didn’t have time when I flew to Lissy last month.”

  Clara waved it off with a small motion. “That’s fine. I was stuck with my own problems at the time, and I also didn’t want to bother you when you were meeting your best friend for the first time.” She leaned her elbows on the balcony railing and turned her head a little. “Anyway, you never told me how it was to meet Lissy in real life. Lissy can’t stop talking about your trips to Disneyworld and the mountains.”

  Lily’s gaze shifted away. Even in avatar form, Clara could tell she was flustered. Lily’s shoulders moved like she wanted to shrug the whole topic off, but she didn’t.

  “Well,” Lily said. “It was…” She stopped, looking a bit flustered. “It was only… I didn’t tell her.”

  Clara blinked. “Oh… she’s your best friend, and honestly… I think she…”

  She paused too, cutting herself off mid-thought. Clara took a breath and forced herself to think it through for one more second. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say. It wouldn’t be fair to Lissy if Lily felt differently, so she pulled the topic back toward Lily’s future plans instead.

  “She deserves to know, Lily. As your friend, she should hear it from you.”

  Lily nodded, but it looked more like habit than agreement. “I’ll tell her when the time is right. I don’t even know if I’ll really move to the other side of the world. I just…” She let out a long breath. “It’s my chance for a self-determined life, you know.”

  Clara’s chest tightened. She hated that Lily said it like that, like her life right now wasn’t her own. “I meant what I said. If you need support, you tell me. Even if money is an issue.”

  “It’s fine,” Lily said quickly. “Don’t worry too much.”

  Then Lily turned her head and looked at Clara again, and her tone changed.

  “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

  Clara raised a brow. “Wow, that sounds serious.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Lily said. “If I’m not able to come online for a longer time, take care of her, okay. She won’t understand it.”

  Clara felt her stomach drop. But she forced her voice to stay steady. “I will,” she said. “I’ll totally freak out if you vanish without a word, but when I get my things together, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of all of you.”

  She hesitated, because it felt stupid to say out loud, but her next words were true.

  “You’re like my family,” Clara said. “My real family.”

  Lily’s expression softened right away, and she answered with a smug smile. “You too, big sis!”

  Then Lily lifted her fist and lightly punched Clara’s shoulder in the casual way she always did when she didn’t want a moment to get too emotional.

  ???

  Clara’s hands were still shaking when she finally managed to guide Lissy onto the small stool near the side aisle.

  For a few heartbeats, everything had been chaos. People had turned. Whispers had rippled through the church. Someone had called for water, another voice had mentioned smelling salts, and Tom’s sharp, low “Give her space” had cut through it all. Clara barely remembered how she had moved. She only remembered the sound Lissy’s body made when it hit the floor. It had been too loud, and sounded too final, in a place that was already full of final things.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Now the organ music continued as if nothing had happened, and the line of mourners still moved toward the open casket with the same slow, reverent rhythm. Some people glanced over as they passed, curious or annoyed or quietly sympathetic. Most looked away again as if it was polite to pretend. Clara hated that. She hated how grief was something other people wanted you to keep tidy.

  Lissy sat hunched forward on the stool, both hands gripping the edge like she was afraid she would fall again if she let go. Her face was pale, her hair had come a little loose, and her eyes looked unfocused, as if she was still halfway somewhere else.

  Clara crouched in front of her, careful not to crowd her, and kept her voice low.

  “Lissy. Hey.” She waited until Lissy’s gaze flickered toward her. “Are you alright? Can you breathe? Slow.”

  Lissy swallowed. Her lips trembled like she was cold, but sweat shone at her hairline, and her face had gone completely pale. “I… I don’t know,” she said slowly. “It felt so real, Clara.”

  Tom stood to Clara’s left, still holding the flowers they had brought, his knuckles white around the stems. He looked like he wanted to do something, anything, and hated that there was nothing practical to fix here. He glanced toward the front once, then back to Lissy and forced himself to stay put.

  Clara laid a hand over Lissy’s. “You fainted,” she said gently. “You hit the floor, but you’re okay. Tom caught your head before it hit the floor.”

  Lissy stared at her hands like they didn’t belong to her. “No. I know… Not that…” She swallowed again. “But what I saw…”

  She looked up and met Clara’s eyes directly.

  “It wasn’t a dream,” Lissy said, with a cracking voice. “It was like I was there. And Lily was there too.”

  Tom crouched down as well, carefully, like he was approaching a frightened animal. “Lissy,” he said, trying to keep his voice even, “you’re in a church. You passed out. Your brain is doing weird stuff right now.”

  Lissy flinched at the word weird. “No. Tom. Listen.” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead, like she was trying to hold herself together by force. “I saw her die again.”

  Clara’s fingers tightened around Lissy’s hand. “Die… again?”

  Lissy nodded too quickly. “In Xantia. Or I think it was there? No, it felt so real… Also, she was in her avatar—Lilithia.” Her voice dropped, and began to tremble. “There was a battlefield. Thousands of people. It was loud, and it felt… real. And she was fighting, and then…”

  She stopped, breath catching, and for a moment she looked like she might be sick.

  “And Luxandra,” Lissy whispered, eyes wet and wide, “came from behind her. Like you can see it coming but you can’t change it. And she stabbed her. Right through.” Her face twisted. “I tried to warn her. I screamed and nothing reached her.”

  The words sat wrong in the air. Ten meters away, their friend Lily Carter lay in an open casket with her eyes closed and her hands folded neatly, and Lissy was talking about a battlefield like it had happened five minutes ago.

  Tom looked at Clara, and Clara looked back. They didn’t need to speak the thought: it was shock and grief, a mind trying to survive.

  Tom’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Okay. You had a really intense… episode. And… panic. Your body hit a limit. That happens.”

  “I’m not making it up,” Lissy answered, desperation in her voice.

  “I’m not saying you’re lying,” Tom answered quickly. “I’m saying you’re overloaded. Anyone would be.”

  Clara swallowed. “Lissy, you’ve been holding everything together all day,” she said. “You’ve been holding it since yesterday. No, since… since this with Lily happened. Since all of this.” She gestured vaguely at the church. “It’s not strange if your mind… spills over.”

  Lissy stared at her for a moment as if Clara had spoken in another language. Then her shoulders curled inward again. “But I could smell it,” she whispered. “The smoke. The ozone. The blood. Clara, I could smell it.”

  Clara brushed her thumb over the back of Lissy’s hand, like a rhythm to follow. “Sometimes the brain does that,” she said carefully. “When you’re scared. When you’re grieving.”

  Lissy shook her head, tears began slipping down now. “It wasn’t just grief.” And her voice broke. “It was like Lily was still fighting somewhere, and I just watched it happen and did nothing.”

  Tom tried to help Clara calm Lissy down. “We don’t know what that was,” he said. “But we know you’re here. With us, right now. You need to stay here.”

  Clara nodded. “Right now,” she agreed. “Focus on right now.”

  Lissy wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, smearing tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I ruined it. I ruined her funeral.”

  “You didn’t ruin anything,” Clara said, firmer than she expected her own voice to be. “You're not an object to be kept pretty and silenced. You're a human being!”

  Lissy’s eyes flickered up, and for a second Clara saw something familiar in her, something stubborn that reminded her of raid nights and last-minute saves. Then it cracked again, and Lissy’s gaze dropped.

  Tom glanced toward the line.

  “We can leave,” he said quietly. “Just for air. If you want.”

  Lissy shook her head immediately. “No. I have to… I have to say goodbye properly.”

  Clara nodded. “Then we do it slowly.”

  She stood first and offered Lissy her hand. Lissy hesitated, then took it, gripping hard. Tom stood on the other side, close enough to catch her if she swayed again. They stayed near the aisle, letting the line thin while Lissy’s breathing steadied into something less ragged.

  Clara leaned in and whispered, so only Lissy could hear. “If it comes back, tell me. Squeeze my hand. Don’t try to be strong alone.”

  Lissy gave a tiny nod, and her grip tightened once in answer.

  Tom lowered his voice. “After this, we’ll talk about it properly,” he murmured. “Not here.” His eyes flicked toward the casket, then away. “This place is too much.”

  Lissy swallowed, eyes drawn forward again like the casket was pulling her. “Yeah,” she whispered. “After.”

  They moved toward the casket once the last few people in the church had drifted outside into the courtyard. Only the priest and two workers remained inside now, their quiet movements echoing faintly under the high arches. The air felt heavier here, as if everything sacred and painful was trapped inside these walls.

  Lissy squeezed Clara’s hand again—hard enough that Clara’s fingers throbbed—but Clara didn’t loosen her grip. She let the girl hold on. Lissy needed an anchor, something solid to keep her from slipping back into whatever nightmare had swallowed her minutes earlier.

  Clara walked those last few steps with her, aware of Tom on the other side, silent and tense. She also noticed, distantly, that something felt off.

  Where are Matz and Kaito? She thought.

  Tom had sworn he’d seen them inside the church right before Lissy collapsed. With all the commotion, they should have been at their side. But Clara hadn’t seen them once since. She pushed the thought aside. The casket was right in front of them now.

  And this was the moment Clara had been dreading.

  It was the first time she saw Lily’s body. Or better Lily herself in real life.

  Her breath caught as she leaned in slightly, the world narrowing to the peaceful face lying among folded fabric and carefully arranged flowers. Lily looked almost unreal like this. Clara had spent hundreds of hours with her avatar, with her voice, with her jokes and her dramatic monologues. This stillness felt wrong.

  And then the memory struck her. Back on the balcony of the guild hall, with Xerathene burning beneath them in a sea of lights, Lily had leaned on the railing like it was just another late-night talk and said something that had sounded casual at the time.

  “If I’m not able to come online for a longer time, take care of her, okay. She won’t understand it.”

  Back then, Clara had assumed Lily meant the usual things. Family trouble. Health issues. Life being messy. Nothing so absolute. And now the words sounded almost foreboding, like a message she hadn’t been meant to understand until it was too late.

  Beside her, Lissy’s grip tightened painfully. Clara glanced at her. The girl’s face crumpled the longer she looked at Lily, like she was trying not to break and failing anyway.

  Tom stepped forward next, his expression stiff and controlled. Lissy looked the same way; frozen, a little hollow, as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel anything after what had happened.

  Clara didn’t stay long. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she could feel Lissy tipping again. So, she leaned in, just enough to be close, and whispered what she could manage.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, voice low. “I promise.”

  Then she guided Lissy away.

  They stepped outside into the courtyard, where clusters of people in black stood in quiet groups. The air was colder out here, and it smelled like winter arriving early.

  Tom scanned the crowd, irritation tightening his face. “I saw them,” he muttered. “Kaito and Matz. Right before she collapsed. And now they’re nowhere.”

  Clara followed his gaze, but she saw nothing.

  “I’m going to find them,” Tom said, anger threading through his voice.

  Clara nodded. “Go. I’ll stay with Lissy.”

  Tom left, moving through the crowd, while Clara guided Lissy toward the stone wall where it was quieter. Lissy’s breathing was uneven again, her eyes unfocused like she was still halfway in that nightmare.

  “It felt like she died again,” Lissy whispered. “Clara… she was alive in it. She was fighting. And then she wasn’t. That can’t be.”

  Clara kept her voice gentle. “I know it felt real,” she said. “But you’re here. With me.”

  Then suddenly Clara’s pocket vibrated. A ringtone cut through the muted courtyard voices. She froze, because she was sure her phone was on silent. Still, the buzzing was real. She pulled it out.

  Unknown number.

  Clara stared at it for a second, then looked at Lissy. “Is it okay if I answer?”

  Lissy nodded tiredly.

  Clara lifted the phone to her ear.

  “Hello?”

  For half a second there was only static. Then a voice answered, flat and cheerful in the way call center scripts were cheerful, like a robot trying to imitate politeness.

  “Hello, Lady Clarathiel Nuara. You have an incoming call from ????????. Do you accept the call?”

  Clara blinked. “Sorry—what? Who is there?”

  The voice didn’t react to her confusion.

  “This is ???????. We are especially proud to connect people all over ??????. Lady Clarathiel Nuara, you have an incoming call from ???????. Do you accept the call?”

  Clara’s forehead tightened. “Sorry, I really don’t have time for this bullshit. Whoever this is, it’s not funny, okay?”

  She lowered the phone and tried to hang up. She pressed the red symbol.

  Nothing happened.

  The screen didn’t change. The call didn’t end. The voice continued, calm and mechanical, as if the phone had ignored her entirely. This time it was loud enough that Lissy could hear it too.

  “Hello, Lady Clarathiel Nuara. You have an incoming call from ???????. Do you accept the call?”

  Clara drew in a sharp breath, ready to snap back, but before she could, Lissy snatched the phone out of her hand.

  “Lissy!”

  Lissy was gripping it with both hands, her eyes wide and strange, almost feverish. Her voice came out louder than it should have in the quiet courtyard.

  “I, Lissy Flamesborn, will accept the call.”

  Clara sighed, already starting to speak. “Lissy, that’s probably only a few jerks from Xantia who have my number. Don’t feed—”

  She stopped. The phone began to glow, not just the screen, but the whole device. A pale light bled out between Lissy’s fingers, creeping up her hands like liquid brightness. Clara’s stomach dropped.

  “Lissy—wait—”

  The glow flared.

  And then Lissy vanished right in front of her, as if she had been pulled straight through the phone itself.

  Clara stared at the empty space where Lissy had stood.

  “Wh—what? Wait—LISSY?!”