It rested with its bloodied head pnted on the gel, its eyes remaining glued to the scene on the opposite end.

  Even when it felt a presence enter the Altar of Curses, it didn't flinch.

  It merely observed the one it loved, the one with a wistful look on her face.

  It helplessly watched her step down the stairs with hundreds of people celebrating her ascent into an Entrant; meanwhile, on its end—silence.

  Only a loving, peaceful gaze tickled the back of its head.

  A familiar gaze.

  Yet.

  Other than that one gaze:

  Nothing.

  ...Nothing.

  "Congratutions, sweetie, and good job!"

  The creature didn't look back for a moment; it took a couple of deep breaths first, then, amid the intense pains covering every inch of its body, it turned back.

  "Thank you... Mother..."

  My voice was hoarse.

  "No, thank you, sweetie. You've become a completely perfect being."

  ...I know.

  "Let's get you moving then, I made a promise, you see."

  ...No...

  "You've been wanting to meet her for so long, right?"

  ...Not in this state...

  "Right?"

  ...

  "Yes, mother..."

  Heal me...

  Ouch!

  I flinched from the constant, nagging pains erupting from the inside out, but:

  "...Heal me..."

  ...I can't meet her like this...

  This scrapped body; this trash-like body; this thing littered with blood, scraped flesh and completely haggard...

  ...Not this body...

  "...Why? Sweetie?"

  There was no mockery nor amusement in that tone.

  Mother wasn't pying with me.

  ...She's serious.

  "You are the Perfect Cursed Doll now, right? For what reason shall I heal you?" She stood above me as I y there in this mess; I hissed and groaned from the incessant Curses flooding my veins.

  ...What...?

  "...Not like this..."

  I bit my mangled lips further apart.

  "...I can't meet her like this..."

  I can only plead; pray that mother accepts my request.

  Because, at the moment, as I forced my eyelids open and my eyes upwards at mother's face:

  Her eyes.

  They are sincere...

  ...Please...

  ...I beg...

  She stared.

  ...Please...

  And stared.

  ...I beg you...

  Coughing out phlegm, blood and bits of flesh, "...I don't want her to see me like this..."

  I was incapable of articuting myself any further than that; my brain was too exhausted, not to mention my vocal cords were already shattered. I was forcing the words out by pushing the Curses into them to force them into working.

  I was doing everything I could to change her mind.

  Mother took a step closer, then another; she walked till she was close enough to touch me. There, she knelt.

  She crouched at my eye level.

  And with immutable eyes, she questioned again:

  "You are already perfect, right?"

  Her frigid yet warm and soft palm nded on my cheek, stroking it gradually.

  "Shouldn't you celebrate with your sister? Tell her of your perfection?"

  She rubbed my face with immense peace.

  "I saved it for you, I haven't told her yet for your sake. So you could surprise her..."

  With every movement of her lips, the already empty hope within me froze over;

  "So let's go, okay?"

  Pnting her forehead on mine—staining her own with my blood—mother crushed my request like an ant beneath her foot.

  Moving back a step to give me space, she kept her hand out for me to use.

  "Come."

  She said.

  ...

  ...So I did.

  The bones in my legs and feet groaned with crunching noises as I pnted my foot firmly into the ground. Holding onto mother's hand, I pushed up and-

  "AHHHH!!!"

  -I felt my legs breaking all over again, toppling me over as bone and flesh intermingled messily below the waist.

  Yet.

  I did not drop.

  Mother held on to my hands.

  And:

  "Get up."

  She ordered.

  ...Thus.

  Groaning.

  Bursting my legs with Curses, glueing the broken bits together like pieces of a puzzle...

  I stood; I followed.

  ...She's right.

  Stumbling over my shattered body, I moved.

  ...I'm perfect.

  And as I moved, I controlled my Curses.

  ...I'll do it myself.

  I began patching it all together.

  Stimuting regrowth via pressure of Curses, glueing together bones and enhancing new bone growth. Stitching skin and burning the blood:

  The pieces evenly clicked together under the flow of Curses.

  Precisely like a puppet, a doll.

  "See?"

  Mother smiled down at me, "You're perfect."

  "...Yes, mother."

  -----

  "The weather is lovely today, Lady Esme."

  "Indeed..."

  Tucking her snow-white hair over her shoulder, Esme gnced over the gmorous ke bnkly. The glimmering golden lights refracting off the ke was her favourite view in this mansion, precisely because it bore a resembnce to her.

  "Are you excited, Lady Esme?"

  Esme nodded as she turned her eyes to her maid;

  The brown-haired teenager in an antique maid outfit stood at ease beside her with her hazel eyes gazing intently into her own.

  "Lily, why do you presume mother has not allowed us to meet?"

  Lily, the maid, hastily shook her head, "I dare not question the intentions of the Mistress."

  Esme promptly accepted Lily's answer; it was a foolish question in the first pce. But, if she wanted to ask, she'd ask.

  No reason to hesitate.

  'Sister.'

  Esme lightly clenched her golden dress, almost ripping the fabric apart via that small demonstration of strength.

  'I ck even your name...'

  Ba-dump.

  A painful yet endlessly warm palpitation struck her chest.

  'How have you grown?'

  Ba-dump.

  'Have you have the same face as I?'

  Ba-dump.

  'Have you the same habits as I?'

  Ba-dump.

  Esme's face flushed bright red, and the familiar, weird sensations tightening around her chest pounded at her.

  'Sister, I await you...'

  Suddenly, Lily's hand reached for her forehead during Esme's dazed state;

  "Lady Esme, you're burning up. Are you unwell?"

  Esme, still in a flushed state, promptly swatted Lily's hand away. "I am okay." And then she waved her hands at her face, attempting to cool it down.

  "If you say so, Lady Esme." Backing off, Lily maintained her gentle demeanour beside Esme.

  Almost flustered, Esme eased the rampant thoughts with one simple trick:

  She returned her gaze to the ke.

  She observed the gently rushing waters and soft waves crashing into the nd in the distance. Having practiced this method a couple of times, her vivid emotions began to die down as she watched over the ke.

  And soon, the heat on her face dissipated.

  Still...

  Ba-dump.

  Her heart could not lie.

  Ba-dump.

  Her anticipation inevitably rose.

  ...Tweeting birds.

  ...Warm aurora-light.

  ...Soft breezes.

  ...The scent of lush greenery.

  It compounded, wrapping around her from all angles.

  And.

  As fate demanded;

  As was promised;

  The time came.

  Knock.

  A single knock on the terrace door halted the peaceful moment.

  "Sweetheart, dear Esme, the one you have waited for is here." Her mother's voice came across with sharp crity from the other end of the door.

  Taking a sharp breath, Esme faced her maid:

  "You are dismissed."

  "Yes, Lady Esme." Bowing with her hem raised with both hands, Lily walked to the terrace door, opened it enough to allow herself through, and exited the terrace.

  Only Esme remained. Only herself and the chair she sat upon, a table decorated in deserts, a tea set, and all manners of food remained.

  That, and a second chair.

  A chair opposing her seat.

  Her chair.

  "Are you ready, sweetheart?"

  Preparing her pounding heart, Esme took a deep breath first:

  "I am ready, mother. Let my sister through."

  Esme kept her head straight towards the ke and mountains, she did not dare turn back and look towards the terrace doors.

  ...Click.

  The doors groaned open from behind.

  The breeze shifted direction and shot her hair into the skies, raising it like a fg in the wind, a snow-white fg.

  Ba-dump.

  Esme's heart almost shot out of her chest.

  But when she heard it, when she heard the-

  Step.

  It was soft, light, yet unfathomably loud.

  Step.

  Each step resonated with her heart.

  Step.

  Reaching closer, she smelt a faint scent waft from behind, tickling her nose. But, this smell, what she expected was...

  '...What is this smell?'

  Empty.

  To her, at that moment, the smell from behind her was eerily...

  Nothing.

  It smelt of something, yet of nothing.

  Still, even with this odd shift:

  Ba-dump.

  The muscle in her chest that powered her essence as a human struggled to keep her alift; it drowned beneath the flurry of warm, dense emotions enrapturing her insides.

  Nothing could stop these emotions.

  Step!

  Even with her eyes glued forward, she caught a glimpse of the white shirt, the dark pants...

  And the gold.

  Dancing beneath the sky, complementing the dazzling aurora of the skies, representing the Domain of Light itself:

  '...Sister's hair.'

  Ba-dump.

  Esme's heart drummed with unfiltered joy and the unknown, endlessly warm emotion that fluttered and tickled her stomach.

  She only needed another step to enter her vision fully;

  Another step to sit before her;

  To indulge in delicacies and reunite:

  But that step.

  Even as Esme waited.

  Even as the minutes passed.

  Even as the anticipation almost blew her brain apart.

  It never came.

  Her sister remained there, barely within sight but outside of sight, hovering between the boundary of existence and emptiness. The longer this sted, the more Esme noticed a separate emotion entering her chest.

  A delicate mixture of worry, fear and unease gripped her heart. Her palms began to sweat, and her face drew downwards;

  Another unfamiliar emotion that she struggled to understand.

  And it only grew.

  Rising, hounding, and tearing her down;

  Yet.

  No matter how many minutes passed.

  Even as the tea cooled over;

  Even as the winds died down;

  Her sister never took the next step.