She could remember a time when the cheers of the crowd gave her energy, but now, thinking of their shouts, she only felt hesitation. The expectations that had been placed on her shoulders had become too much for her to bear, and while she knew that simply avoiding her problems would not solve them, her body felt limp. No matter how she willed it to move, it refused her.

The lights of Dis sparkled and beamed in through her window, almost taunting her to try and close the curtains. The muffled noise of the hustle and bustle of the city hummed around her: droids shuttling powercells, vans transporting important passengers, a helicopter looking for suspicious citizens, the blare of the digital billboards playing her song. Strands of her dark blue hair fell over her face, a feeble attempt to block the noise of the city. Closing her eyes did little; the light bled through her eyelids, the city ambience became louder, and the faces of her fans in the crowd once again became clear in her mind.

Bzzt.

She slowly opened her eyes and glanced at the phone on the end table next to her.

Casella! Where are you?!
I’m covering your set so you better get your ass over here before it’s over.
Don’t blame me when I take all your fans from you >:P

They were from Forese. Casella had never received text messages from Forese before. Even when Casella had tried to message niceties to her pink haired company-mate, it was often simply marked as “read” and ignored. She had always wanted to get closer to Forese, but it was clear that she saw them as rivals and held some sort of disdain for Casella. For Forese to be sending her a message like this, she really must have let everyone down.

As she turned her head away, she saw her staff on the floor from the corner of her eye, haphazardly strewn about on the rug of the high-rise hotel room that she had been locked in by Uncle Zuo. It was beautiful and doubled as a mic and she had been so happy to be able to use it. This was her first mission and, once she had received the power of arcane, she felt like she had truly become a Champion for the first time. Now, people were dying around her, the world was going to end, and all she could do was think about herself; it had all just been to satiate her ego.

If only she had been like Mary. Mary was the perfect songstress and wouldn’t have lost control of her magic—more importantly, she most definitely wouldn’t be wallowing in self pity, much less before an important event. The shadow Mary had cast was too big for Casella to fill. She had been painfully aware of this from the moment Lucca handed over her business card. She now wondered what sort of unfounded confidence caused her to accept the offer in the first place.

Though she was not an Elysian, musical magic was also known to affect Aenean Disorder and was hypothesized to be a sort of stabilizer at a molecular level. Not that Casella knew much about those things. No amount of schooling in the Homeworld could have prepared her for this. All she knew was that Mary’s songs had saved the world once before, while Casella’s songstress magic only caused her audience to break into a bloody craze.

Despite that, Casella had overheard some conversations from the management team about some sort of way to harness the magic produced by music. There were already devices like the ResonanTech Module that could play recorded music, but the aether could not be felt when played back on these devices. She shuddered at the thought of her unstable magic being commodified—who knew what kind of outcome that could have?

Looking down at the cityscape, she watched the sun slowly setting over the horizon, its rays of light like sand in an hourglass—like the waves of unstable aether infecting all who heard her song. Getting captured by her father’s friend was just a formality. Regardless of how he got here or what he was doing working with Beatrice, Uncle Zuo was right to tell her she was in over her head—she should’ve known she wouldn’t be good enough to be a Champion with her half-hearted ambition.

Resting her head against her knees, Casella let herself cry. At least Asphodel would still be saved; she believed that Lorraine and Dante would find a way without her.

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzzzt.

Buzzing emanated from her phone again. This time, it was a call. It could only be from Lucca. Through her journey in Asphodel, she had not had many opportunities to meet many people or make any friends. Much of her time had been spent rehearsing, learning new songs, and ruminating. She had agreed to this tour because she had felt it a good way to explore Asphodel, an easy ticket to see Dis in its entirety. There were many stories of Champions who struggled to integrate into these foreign worlds, some even dying of something as unglorious as starvation on their missions. With the tour, she had been fed, had access to the Higher Plane, and was protected from the harsh outside. The only battle she had been fighting was with herself.

She hated herself for lacking her own ambitions and envied those around her that seemed so determined. Lorraine’s convictions were always unwavering, her hard work presenting itself through both her physical and mental strength. Dante seemed like a scary person at first, but it was clear that his kind heart and strong will to make things right was admirable. Even Lucia, a young child Dante had found, felt like she had a stronger conviction than herself. Casella didn’t have a revenge story, she didn’t have a traumatic childhood, and she wasn’t experimented on in a shady lab—her life had been easy up until this point, and she felt even more pathetic for it. Even in the present, all she had to do was sing, and yet…

Groaning, she buried her face in her knees again. The disappointment she felt from her fans was heavy, but nothing could be heavier than the disappointment she felt for herself. Singing on stage used to feel effortless; she had always felt confident that it was what she was born to do. The butterflies she got in her stomach right before stepping into the spotlight, the adrenaline of seeing her fans’ excited faces, the way her voice melded with those of the audience who were singing along, the sea of penlights and hands in the crowd—all of it was so exhilarating and beautiful. But now, just the thought of all of that put a lump in her throat and made her breath feel shallow. When did singing start to feel like this?

Casella tried to recall the moments of her childhood, grasping for some sort of hope in her recollections. Though she could not remember her mother well, her father was a talented piano player. He would teach her songs in the few instances he was not away for work; in their vast manor, her nannies would sing them with her to cheer her up when he was. He was a perfectionist and he held her to a high regard, often citing her potential, her resemblance to her mother, and the bright future he believed was waiting for her. He had seen her promise in music and she was enrolled into the academy bearing the name of one of the top 100 gods: Virelai Academics.

She was the perfect student: always receiving full marks, never tardy to class. Her underclassmen admired her and her upperclassmen praised her potential. It was there that her desire to become a Champion was sparked, wanting to follow in the steps of the goddess Virelai Herself after her peers and mentors often suggested it. Casella had always worked hard to make sure that she could maintain this image and rarely had time to spend with her peers. Loneliness had never been an issue; it was something that was normal and natural for her from when she was very young. The adoration of those around her was enough for her to keep going, and it filled her heart with a sense of purpose.

Every positive memory was washed with the dread of imagining how disappointed they would all be if they saw the sorry state she was in now.

For the first time, this thought gave her pause—she was always walking in the footprints left by someone else. First Virelai, now Mary. But what was it that she wanted? It felt strange to realize that throughout her entire life, she had never considered that question or its answer. Her wants had always been a reflection of the wants and expectations of those around her.

What was her favorite color? Favorite animal? Did she prefer rainy days or sunny ones? Did she have a favorite flower? Did she even like flowers?

She didn’t know.

Who was she?

Another groan.

She was ready to spiral into another descent of self-loathing when her mind was interrupted by a voracious rapping on the door.

A muffled voice she could barely hear through the soundproof walls, but it was clearly calling her name. It didn’t sound like Uncle Zuo—it was too early for him to come back to bring her home as he’d threatened to. She still had so many questions for him, too.

Was it Lucca? Casella had ignored her manager’s call earlier; she must have been furious.

She panicked. What excuse could she give?

“O-one moment!” she stammered as her eyes darted around for her phone.

Suddenly, she heard what she could only imagine were gunshots, and the knocking stopped. Then, silence.

Gunshots? Here? There’s no way.

They were in the Legionnaire Heights. This was the fifth district! Bad things didn’t happen here.

She stared at the door, afraid. It felt as if the door was staring straight back and getting closer to her slowly, even though she was sitting still. The silence began to warp the room. She felt her breathing shallow as it consumed her.

BAM!

The door flew off its hinges and a tall green-haired girl stood in the doorway.

“Casella!” she called out, slightly out of breath as she steeled herself and ran towards her.

“Lorrain—” Before Casella had the chance to finish saying her name, Lorraine grabbed her by the hand. Glass shattered around them as she jumped out the window, Casella in tow.

Lorraine looked at Casella and smiled. Stunned at the sudden series of events, Casella could only gawk back.

“Don’t worry.” Lorraine smiled as her green hair flew around her and as she held Casella by the hand. “Just be yourself. You’re going to do amazing.”

She closed her eyes as Lorraine pulled her into her arms before they hit the ground, but for the first time in a long time, Casella found that she wasn’t afraid.

Casella opened her eyes with some difficulty and was greeted by the lights of the stage.

Music began to play behind her. The lights were blinding. Her throat felt dry. She blinked, struggling to focus. Her hands trembled as she gripped her mic, sweat beading on her palms. She opened her mouth and her voice creaked a little. Like a looming shadow, she felt the hesitation creeping up again within her. She squeezed her eyes shut and could hear Lorraine’s voice echoing again in her mind, and then she saw Forese’s outstretched hand pull her up on stage.

Casella took a deep breath. Suddenly, a wave of calm washed over her. Though she may not have believed in herself, there were others who believed in her. She would discard the burden of saving people; she would cast aside the desire to live up to the expectations of others. For now, she would just sing.

Sing like she did with her nannies, her father on the piano.

Sing like no one was listening.

Sing for herself.


‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Cover Art by - 四肆
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Art 1 by - 四肆
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Art 2 by - Boni蘿蔔泥
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Art 3 by - Seimi
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Written by bell