The Shaman Desires Transcendence

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**Snow-white hand.**

**Pitch-black sleeve.**

**The white moonlight with a blue aura…**

**The forest has been dyed in darkness, rendering it invisible, yet the moonlight still shines down.**

**As if to say it has always been there.**

**”Talent is truly cruel, you know? In English, talent is called ‘gifted,’ right? A gift from God, an ability one has from birth, predetermined from the moment of their birth… our limits.”**

**Ella says this, then lets out a laugh.**

**A slight laugh that feels mocking.**

**”Some might call talent a gift from God, but is that really so? Those with brilliant talents might see it as a gift, sure. But for those with ambiguous talents, it is little more than a curse. Like the hope that lingers at the very bottom of Pandora’s box.”**

**How terrible hope can be—**

**Ah, nothing can be more terrible than that—**

**”From the box, all manner of things escaped. All kinds of calamities were released, conflicts arose, the seasons changed, and humanity began to age. And at the end, hope remained trapped in the box. But sister, do you know? Some call this hope the most dreadful thing, the most powerful calamity… But in some texts, it is said that what was trapped in Pandora’s box until the very end was not hope but the god of hope. Yes, the god of hope named Elpis.”**

**Hehe.**

**”It’s a tragic story. All the bad things escaped, yet the god of hope could not escape. But seeing that hope exists in the world implies that hope itself either always existed or escaped long before… Perhaps the reason calamity and adversity roam freely in this world is that hope is a feeble existence that can’t withstand the weight of pain and suffering. It may have been Pandora’s mistake to close the lid too late and prevent hope from escaping. Yes. That is what I think…”**

**With that, Ella tightened her embrace around Anastasia.**

**”How great the pain of hopeless hope can be. If the god of hope existed, I wished she would at least listen to my prayers, but the god is likely still trapped in Pandora’s box and hasn’t responded… So all I could do was put in effort. Even when told I lacked talent, even if I’m chastised for not proficiently using witchcraft, even if my learning is a bit slower compared to the talented witches… Hehe, yes. Even if the great witch Odilia torments me. I was left with no choice but to keep trying.”**

**She paused for a moment.**

**Then, after a brief moment, with heaviness…**

**”… because this was all I knew how to do.”**

**… That’s what she said.**

**”Yes. Looking back now, it might have been a foolish thought. Instead of honing this evident limitation of mine, how I might have been better off searching for something I enjoyed, something fun, something that truly brought me happiness. There are many that come to mind.**

**I often enjoyed soap operas, filled with all kinds of affairs and drama. If I had tried, becoming a drama writer or an actress appearing as a character in a soap opera would have been quite fun.

**Perhaps if I had devoted a bit more to studying, I could have majored in biotechnology or even majored in magical engineering to create artifacts powered by life force. Or maybe, pursuing medicine to become a doctor wouldn’t have been bad either. Even with limited talent, I could surely have learned recovery-type witchcraft well enough to assist in a medical career. That too would have been rewarding…**

**Ella reminisced about a past that could have bloomed brilliantly simply by changing her mindset.**

**It was a reflection mingled with regret and painted with deep longing.**

**”Maybe I would have made such choices in the future. No, I surely would have. The gap between my limited talent and lofty goals, the hysteria of the troublesome great witch… I would have found it hard to endure, and my mentor would have surely advised me to explore another path before I fell apart. And I probably would have heeded my mentor’s advice and sought another route. At first, with feelings of self-loathing and melancholy, and gradually becoming interested, ultimately blossoming. Perhaps I might have lived a happy life.”**

**… If I hadn’t been sacrificed, that is.**

**A shiver.**

**Anastasia’s body trembles.**

**”Hehe. If it weren’t for the shaman craving the birth of a hero. If there wasn’t an unknown sister within me… the cold blade never would have pierced my body, and the magic wouldn’t have used me as a sacrifice to bring my sister into the world. Surely, it would have been so.”**

**Ella recalls her own death.**

**Calmly laying out that horror, she expresses her resentment towards her sister.**

**”But you see, hope is truly cruel. Strangely enough, I was only able to realize my talent after I died. So rare, so unique, and so special that I could only recognize it in death… Yes, such a terrible gift.”**

**Are you curious?**

**You must be curious, right?**

**Ella whispers to Anastasia, nestled in her arms.**

**Her talent, realized only after death.**

**A talent diametrically opposite to the sister within her embrace.**

**”If you are a drifting ship, I am the anchor. If your essence touches dreams, mine touches reality. If your power is dreamlike, I am fixed and concrete. Hehe, hehehe…”**

**Hehe…**

**”What’s more interesting is that my talent was so special it even affected my abilities. My talent accepted change slowly, and even sculpting through life force was hindered.**

**The shaman who sacrificed me once said this. That I was born with the talent of a sacrifice, as if I was meant to be sacrificed… Yes, it’s true. The field I worked hard in didn’t yield results while still holding tremendous value, making me an ideal sacrifice for such a purpose.**

**But only after being sacrificed did I uncover my talent, allowing me to exist in such a way… Isn’t it quite the cruel irony?”**

**The sacrificed Ella should have shattered into pieces, barely leaving a trace behind.**

**And in fact, that almost happened, with Ella unable to even become a ghost, fully becoming nothing more than Anastasia’s nourishment.**

**Yet, Ella’s talent, like an anchor brought down to reality, would not allow her to vanish, collecting her scattered soul and spirit to awkwardly exist in the world.**

**Just like the past Anastasia.**

**”Perhaps this is a happy ending among tragic stories. It ended with our positions swapped…”**

**But the story of tragedy ultimately culminates from differences in understanding and misalignment, making it all the more tragic for the actors on stage who cannot fully grasp it even when the audience can.**

**Thus, the tale of Anastasia and Ella concluded with a tragic ending.**

**”Sister never ceased her exploration of the collective unconscious. Perhaps it was to alleviate her guilt of having consumed her younger sister and being born into this world, or maybe it was because she unconsciously realized I still existed and sought a solution. Or perhaps the reason she clung to existence at all was… But in the end, the conclusion is tragedy.**

**Anastasia failed to explore the collective unconscious and died futilely.**

**And naturally, Ella, who shared the physical body, died as well.**

**That was the conclusion.**

**That was the end for the sisters who lived tragic lives.**

**”But how interesting it is. I knew time did not exist, but I never thought such an opportunity would come again.”**

**Slowly, Anastasia’s body begins to drift away.**

**The strength in Ella’s arms that had tightly bound her loosens, and Ella’s slender arms begin to push Anastasia away gently.**

**Thus, Anastasia and Ella found themselves facing each other, their red eyes locked in gaze.**

**Ella looks at Anastasia with a curious gaze.**

**Anastasia stares at Ella with frightened, rabbit-like eyes.**

**In the twisted fabric of time, the sisters reunite, their gazes crossing like they are mere strangers.**

**”Sister.”**

**The slowly moving black sleeve.**

**”Do you know why I called you here?”**

**Ella’s hand begins to move slowly.**

**Towards Anastasia’s chest.**

**Towards her heart…**

**Poke.**

**The white fingers begin to dive into her chest.**

**Anastasia’s chest accepted Ella’s hand as if it were tofu, and the ribcage, which should have been a solid armor, jelly-like, began to pave the way towards the heart.**

**Ella’s fingertips touch Anastasia’s heart.**

**”It was said that if one can be aware, they can influence.”**

**What thrums at the tips of the white fingers is a peculiar power.**

**Liquid that seems to be a concentrated amalgamation of gathered information.**

**Is this not what the honey liquor resides within Mimir’s well in myth?**

**”This is a gift, sister.”**

**Hehe.**

**Ella chuckles, looking at Anastasia, wide-eyed like a rabbit.**

**Then, she lifts her gaze and looks into the darkness.**

**『… There exists a state of enlightenment where one realizes the mysteries of the soul and escapes the filth, called Epopteia; this is spoken of as a privilege granted to those who achieve it. Within the kiste lies secrets and mysteries…』**

**…Hehe.**

**”Now that there’s plenty of time, slowly. Let’s meet many times again.”**

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