Vol. 2 Chapter 99: The Firefly and the Moon

"You're supposed to be dead!" she yells, as if that scream could free her from the grip of emotions she is feeling at this moment.

"I thought so too," says the man with a veil of sadness in his eyes."I knew I would meet you again. You've become a beautiful woman, Lil' Silly."

Rero, like a firefly, is immersed in her thoughts, a night garden in her head, while the bitter reality is always visible, surrounded by the figures of the eight distant temples. The moon of this imaginary nocturnal scenario is precisely him: Fierro. With his light, he dazzles Rero, who is nothing more than a firefly.

Their gazes cross, reflecting a shared story now shattered by diverging destinies. "You don't know how many tears I've shed for you!" Rero cries out, her voice trembling with emotion. So many tears that she never cried again. Until now. Her hand, gripping the sword, remains firm, despite her body's plea to run towards her brother in a desperate embrace.

"Yes, I died on that expedition," confirms Fierro with his green eyes, acknowledging his fate.

"But it was as if I were already dead." The moon, Fierro, speaks with a tone of pride, although it's transparent with his regret.

The man raises his oriental-style swords and observes them. "I am a hypocrite," he then says, looking straight into his sister's eyes.

A breeze laden with the humidity of the cavern and the typical musty smell of the Underealm blows through. The hair of the two swordfighters is moved by the air's displacement. To Rero, it recalls the warm summer wind of the garden where they used to train together.

"I taught you that hard work could compensate for your shortcomings," Fierro says.

Rero remains motionless, as if paralyzed, as Fierro tells her his story. Her eyes are fixed on his face, trying to understand how it is possible that he, her brother, could be standing in front of her in this situation.

"Yet, despite my talent, my rank, and my training, I could do nothing against the adversary I met in that dungeon," Fierro continues, gripping the handles of his swords tightly.

"But I realized well before that fateful encounter what my situation was." Rero senses the anger in the swordsman's words.

"The world is vast, Rero. And it's not just one world; there are an infinity of them. In this infinity, there are countless swordfighters better than me, and I had reached my maximum limit."

"Do you think I don't know how it feels? I have experienced this feeling of inadequacy all my life! You can't come now and tell me that you, the best of the Sansantis, felt like me!" Rero's reaction to Fierro's words is spontaneous. She cannot accept what he is saying. She, the firefly, whose light has always been over-illuminated by the stars surrounding her like Luysia Camclair, cannot bear that the Moon expresses the same feelings she experienced. No, it can't be.

Fierro smiles at her. It's not a mocking smile, but one of someone realizing their own inconsistency. "I shouldn't have felt that way. Yet I did. That's why I am a hypocrite."

Rero feels anger, but also immense sadness.

"In my quest to become the best swordsman, I hit an insurmountable wall. The same wall you also encountered. My rank. An A rank, excellent for our renowned family, but not enough to reach the pinnacle of fencing," the man confides, showing regret in his gaze.

The woman lowers her gaze for a moment, thinking back to the suffering she endured in her past due to her limitations. That even her brother, too, experienced what she suffered? That even the light of the Moon is nothing compared to that of the stars?

"There are peaks beyond our understanding. Peaks impossible to reach for us mere mortals," states Fierro. "I thought you could understand me."

"Of course, I understand what you mean... I could never have imagined that you would be the one to complain about this. You were my role model! The one I aspired to become!"

"No, you don't understand, Rero," continues Fierro. "Our family, the Sansantis, have always aspired to more than they could achieve. Money, power, respect. The relentless pursuit is what makes us perfect Ventures. As for me, I want to be the best with the sword."

Rero observes her brother, trying to find a glimpse of what he once was.

"Queen Azherie has made me immensely stronger, allowing me to surpass my limits, just as Wagner did for you. I will be eternally loyal to her."

Meanwhile, Franz Dadref has risen, thanks to Jarica's medical care, and both are ready to fight again. Rero notices this out of the corner of her eye and prepares for the moment when she must cross swords with her brother again. Her two companions look perplexed, not quite understanding what they have overheard. The brunette with green eyes certainly has no intention of explaining it to them.

"Finding you like this, after resigning myself to the fact that you were gone forever, on opposing fronts... and not even being able to embrace you again... This is a cruel fate," says Rero, looking at her brother.

Fierro lowers his eyes, as if searching for the right words. "Lil’ Silly... I didn't want it to end like this, but now we are enemies. I will fight for Queen Azherie with all I have."

"One of us will die today. There are no other possibilities," the man states after a brief pause.

Silence falls between them, broken only by the rustling of the wind. Rero feels the weight of her decisions, the weight of her actions. The struggle is not only physical but also internal, between blood ties and duty, and above all love towards the one who gave her a new life.

She is torn, but now that Fierro has chosen this path, the Moon no longer seems so bright. A New Moon, enveloped by clouds and darkness.

And she has chosen to plunge into the darkness of Strauss Wagner with all her being. Because in the thickest darkness, even a firefly is luminous.

"It will be a battle to the last blood then," says Rero, with a determination she never thought she would have. "Let the swords speak and convey our feelings."

The woman raises her Silverdark sword, shining like her at this moment, ready to attack.

Fierro nods. "Then let the sword decide," he says, resuming his combat stance.

In his eyes, the fury ready to unleash, without any mercy.