Dirt turned to stone turned to paved roads.

  I’m bored. Bored.

  Knock knock.

  “Hello?” a muffled voice called out from outside.

  Startled, I bookmarked the page, getting off my bed.

  Pope Lucius gave me a list of places and names, and now I’m running out of places to “visit.”

  Recently, Asmodeus (or more accurately Bernard) finally made peace with the coalition.

  With the help of the church, the purifier was perfected and installed everywhere.

  Just one small issue.

  Although it was sanctioned by the pope, nobody else other than the pope is aware of the deal.

  So I’ve been hiding out in the countryside. I built a quaint little home for myself, overlooking the local village. To pass the time, I read books, a lot of books.

  The knocking grew more frantic.

  “Coming!” I shouted.

  Opening the door, I was greeted by the village baker.

  “Thank you for the medicine from the other day, here are some freshly baked loaves.”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Accepting it, I thanked him with a smile. “Don’t mention it!”

  Shutting the door, my home was quickly filled with the scent of bread.

  I work as an apothecary, procuring valuable medicine.

  Long-lived races have many ways to pass their time—dwarves practice their craft, vampires work to satiate their endless curiosity, and elves tend to their sacred forests.

  Currently, I’ve nearly run out of reading material.

  I can’t believe that all this time, I’ve been wishing for peace, yet I feel so… Unfulfilled.

  Knock knock.

  Sighing, I dragged myself to the door.

  “Who is it?”

  No response. A bit frustrated, I opened the door.

  Immediately, I was frazzled by the intense light pouring in. I grunted, shielding my eyes.

  “It is time,” a disembodied voice said. “You must return to your duties.”

  I frowned, confused. The light quickly dissipated, revealing… An angel? A seraph?

  A well-dressed man, wearing a cream-colored three-piece suit, with wings sprouting from his back.

  “Who are you, and why are you here??” I said, composing myself.

  Oddly, his face had a weird sense of familiarity and comfort.

  With a warm smile, he knelt, taking my hand.

  “Maybe this will jog your memory.”

  We appeared before a vast field of golden grains swaying in the afternoon breeze.

  It’s him. He had always been watching over me.

  A rush of foreign memories flooded into my head.

  A teardrop rolled down my face, dropping to the floor.

  He slowly walked over to me, and knelt on one leg, offering me to take his hand.

  “Now then, shall we depart?”

  I nodded slowly, reaching out uncertainly.

  “One last walk through memory lane?” I asked. “I would like to see how everyone is doing.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  The next moment, we are floating over a city. Today marks the first anniversary of the peace treaty, and massive celebrations are ongoing. I smiled, watching my citizens, no, my people, celebrating.

  I wish that one day I could be as carefree as them.

  He turned to me. “Would you like to choose something else next time? I’d told you that it was a bad idea. Last time, your break was cut short abruptly. Perhaps next time I shall accompany you.”

  I nodded. “Next time,” I repeated. “Next time.”

  I looked down with a sad gaze, knowing that this may be the last time, though I’d always be watching over them, like a shepherd amongst the stars.

  “Now, we must go. This is no time to linger on these sentiments. We have guests.”

  Many rose through the ranks, ruling over their respective domains.

  I’ve been missing for far too long, but for them, it was only a blink of an eye.

  “Have a good rest,” he said, his voice tinged with sadness. “It will only hurt a bit, and you will be back in the blink of an eye.”

  I bit my lip. “Okay.”

  I closed my eyes. “Goodbye,” I croaked out.

  “You look as beautiful as always,” he said, unsheathing his sword. “I’ll take care of them for you. Now, rest.”

  I nodded. I shivered, unsure of whether it was from fear or if it was just cold.

  Deja vu washed over me, from the familiar sensation of the blade piercing through my heart, and an odd sense of comfort.

  In my last moments, I was suddenly hit with an urge to return, but I knew I had a duty to perform. Maybe I was just being dramatic.

  ‘Would they miss me? Ah, I didn’t finish the story, did I?’

  “See you soon.”