☀️ Arselia and Akonia

Having bid farewell to the ascetic, Klin heads to his next eight-hour shift. One might think that this conversation inspired the knight, and they would be right, but only partially. Klin was not happy about his own fantastical future, in which he resolutely intended to resurrect Crider from the ashes. He was glad that there were still fellow countrymen in the city who could preserve the legacy of his homeland. With this knowledge, a heavy stone seemed to lift from the former servant's soul. Now, he could fearlessly unravel the last coil of the sad fate that had been assigned to him. On an autumn evening, his feet once again lead the knight to the entrance of the Moon Park. He couldn't explain why the atmosphere of this place so attracted his cursed blue soul. Standing for a moment in deep thought, Klin draws the Blade from its scabbard and gently runs a bony hand along the runic blade. The cold steel resonates with the heartbeat of the fragmented part of his torn soul. "A good place to turn to dust, eh?... It turned out rather silly, buddy," the black knight mutters, or perhaps contemplates. "I wanted to protect the people I cared about, but I was a little late. And you were just a step away from accomplishing the great feat that old Crag bequeathed to you. Do you think you would have held back the Soul of Despair or would you have shattered into pieces, huh?... Or maybe he doesn't even have a soul anymore..." Klin plunges the sword into the ground in front of him, squeezes the hilt of his beloved weapon in a farewell gesture, and weakly lowers his hand. "I don't know much about magic, but if these spells can really break the contemplative rune and the unholy curse, then so be it. I don't know what the big problems are, but from the very bottom, the path leads either into the abyss or towards the light. This is the last karma check. Appear, if you hear me, kind maid. Appear and let's exchange."