Ring of Misfortune

ㅤ Rody exhaled wearily. She had already given up hope of ever meeting Dhaos. Alive Dhaos… The Ring transported her anywhere and anytime, but not where she needed to be. It often forced her into contact with his killers. She wasn't angry at them, these unexpected friends. She understood perfectly well… After all, she had once been just like them, hating the branded Demon Lord. She didn't want to see them again: they reminded her of the sorrow of loss, even if they saved her from loneliness. Sometimes. As always, Rody was suddenly drawn into the interdimensional corridor. Again, hope stabbed in her chest. Where? Where would she be taken again? Would she meet him? Would she save him…? If only… She locked eyes with the surprised Dhaos, surrounded by her "friends." Cless delivered the finishing blow. Along with Dhaos, Rody fell to her knees. Tears burned her eyes, and horror filled her soul. It was her fault. It was her fault for his death! If he hadn't been distracted by her, he would have been able to avoid the fatal attack! He would have been able to… He would have survived… 'It's my fault… It's my fault…' the thought firmly lodged itself in her head. Unable to control herself, Rody screamed in her heart, giving free rein to the tears she'd long awaited. But her cry was lost beyond time and space. The ring's cruel joke had once again sent her on an unknown path, denying her the right to grief and emotion. And, as luck would have it, it sent her to a noisy group in the future, gathered at the hot springs. The final meeting of all the heroes who had defeated Dhaos. The heroes who had twice saved the world… "Rody?" Arche expressed surprise. Just for a moment. Then she grabbed her friend's hand and pulled her along. "You're just in time!" Without asking, Arche quickly undressed Rody, full of enthusiasm. Even though she noticed something was gnawing at her friend, she relied on the magic of the hot springs, washing away all her troubles along with her fatigue. And in the warm water, time seemed to stand still. Rody no longer saw a way out of the situation. Even if she could move sooner, even if she helped in the battle… How many years would it take for her body? With such irony, she would only arrive as a burden and fall in battle alongside the Dhaos. The dissonance in her soul continued. Just now she had witnessed the death of someone dear, and now the celebration was thundering. And time stood still. Unable to see anything around her, Rody reached for the ring and lifted it by the chain in front of her. 'I know what needs to be done. I've been putting it off for too long, cherishing a dubious hope.' The celebration ended for her as abruptly as it had begun. Not because of another time travel: it was as if she'd been outside of it all this time, and then it ended just as she was beginning to come to her senses. After saying goodbye to her friends for the last time, she went to a sacred place near the town of Miguel. The Forest of Spirits greeted her with blissful peace and the chirping of birds, along with the rustling of wild animals hiding among the bushes. Rody strode confidently toward Yggdrasil. She buried the ring beneath its roots, resigning herself to a past that existed in several versions, but in all of them, the Dhaos inevitably perished. With a quiet sob, but still holding on, she pulled out a ribbon to tie on a branch instead of a tombstone in honor of the hero who fought for his world until his last breath. And the tighter the knot grew, the more tears choked her: it was so difficult to let go of the past. Where he had been. Where he still lived… Which she had missed. A painful bitterness dried her throat. Invisible Martel watched from the sidelines. Though she was a spirit, compassion was by no means alien to her. Descending, she imperceptibly embraced Rody from behind, silently whispering soothing words: "He got his way. The seed of mana will achieve its goal—life on Derris-Kharlan will blossom." But Rody only began to cry harder. Not only from the pain. But also from the warmth whose seed Martel had planted in her heart. Now it was all up to time, if not healing, then at least scarring all the wounds. ㅤ