His tea had gotten cold.
As they walked through the hallways, Levi asked a passing servant to send another fresh pot up to his room. The servant gave him and Ayla a curious glance before nodding and hurrying to the kitchens.
Levi and Ayla made their way back to his room in silence. Though Ayla tried to present an outward expression of calmness, she wasn’t yet experienced enough to fully conceal all her emotions the same way someone like Liliya could. Levi could still see the conflicted emotions in her eyes and posture.
For some reason, Levi found himself feeling heartened by that fact.
The moment they entered his room and the door shut behind them, Ayla immediately whirled around to face Levi.
“You–” She abruptly cut herself off. “I… You just…” Multiple questions seemed to war within her. Levi waited patiently; after what she’d just seen, he didn’t blame her for not knowing how to react. Finally she asked, “Why the spleen?”
Levi blinked. Involuntarily, a surprised laugh bubbled out his throat. “It’s a long story,” he chuckled. Out of all the questions, he hadn’t expected her to ask that. “One that I think is better left unsaid.”
Ayla snorted. “Right…” She shook her head, her expression darkening a little. “After what Father had done to you in the past, I suppose I can’t blame you.”
Levi sobered up quickly at that. The previous Levi Ironwood had experienced heir lessons for the first nineteen years of his life. “Yeah…”
A long silence fell over them, an almost tangible weight that draped over their shoulders.
Levi let out a long breath. The rage that coursed through him earlier had ebbed during the walk back to his room, leaving him feeling oddly drained.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” Ayla frowned. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because I’m the reason you’ve had to suffer so much.” His counterpart had gotten himself disinherited, forcing Ayla to take up the mantle of heiress, and even Levi had brushed off Ayla’s warnings about ditching the graduation ceremony, causing Lord Ironwood to take his anger out on her. “I should’ve done something a month ago, when I first healed your bruises.”
Oh, he’d had his reasons at the time, of course. He’d wanted to respect her decision to fight her own battles; he hadn’t been familiar enough with the new world yet to make any drastic moves; he hadn’t wanted to trample over her wishes…
But deep down, he knew that the real reason had been because he hadn’t felt like he had the right to do anything. Because he had been too busy being embroiled in guilt and self-hatred.
It wasn’t until Anastasia had knocked some sense into him, dragged the truth out of him, that Levi had finally realized that he needed to change. Another fresh wave of gratefulness toward the priestess washed over him.
“I…” Ayla hesitated.
While it seemed like she wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, it was clear that a part of her had blamed him. Still blamed him, most likely. She might have begun warming up to him over the past month, but an entire year’s worth of anger and resentment was difficult to wipe away. Even after what just happened, he wouldn’t blame her if she still held a grudge—
Ayla smiled at him. “It’s okay,” she said. “I forgive you.”
“...”
Levi stared at her for a long moment. What? He scanned her expression intently, but he could sense no deception or falsehood in her eyes. She was telling the truth.
“I…” Now it was Levi’s turn to hesitate. “Just like that?”
Ayla was silent for a moment. “For so long, I was so very angry at you,” she whispered, her right hand coming up to grip her left arm as she looked down at the ground. “I resented you for being a failure, I resented you for forcing me to take your place, I resented you for not even looking at me as you did so. I think a part of me may have even hated you.”
Levi watched her silently. He knew that this part, at least, wasn’t his fault, that it was his counterpart to blame. Yet despite that, he still felt the faintest ghostly embers of regret and sadness flicker to life within him. The final remnants of the boy who once owned this body.
“I don’t even remember the amount of times I wished for it to all stop,” she continued. “Late at night, when I was tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep from all the pain… I so very dearly wanted someone to come help me. To come save me. But I knew it was a fool’s dream. That nobody would be strong enough to stand up to Father… that nobody would care enough to stand up to him.”
Then she looked back up at him. “But then you did,” she said. “Even after I told you not to. Do you remember when you used to read stories to me to help me sleep? When you talked on and on about all your favorite stories from the Age of Heroes? How you said that as long as you believe, things will work out?” She smiled. “You were right. After waiting for so long… a hero finally came to save me.”
Levi drew in a sharp breath. For a moment, he nearly protested, the reaction automatic.
Instead, he gave her a small smile.
“I see,” he said. “Thank you, Ayla.”
Another silence fell over them. It felt lighter than before.
“A month ago, when you healed me…” Ayla said. “That was new, wasn’t it? You’ve never had that ability before – else, you would’ve healed yourself in the past. How did you get so strong? And you’re an Archmage now? Isn’t that a legendary Mage class evolution? You haven’t even reached level 25 yet. How is that even possible?”
Levi’s expression was indecipherable as he considered her.
At first, he thought about lying to her. Give her some half-truth explanation.
Unlike before, though, it wouldn’t have been to protect himself from the potential repercussions, but rather to protect her. Her brother had died, after all. Had taken his own life.
Levi didn’t want her to burden her with that knowledge. He didn’t want her to wonder if there was anything she could’ve done. If any of it had been her fault.
He wanted to protect her from the grief.
But…
She was still Levi Ironwood’s little sister.
She deserved to know.
Right?
He flicked his hand, and magic leaped from his fingers, expanding to create an anti-eavesdropping field around the room. Ayla furrowed her brows slightly, glancing around at the translucent field before looking back at him questioningly.
“One month ago, I reincarnated into the body of your older brother.”
Ayla froze, her entire body going still. “What?”
“In my previous life in another world, I was Levi. Just Levi.” His voice was quiet but unwavering as he spoke. “I never knew who my parents were. I never had any siblings. I grew up as a street orphan. Through a series of convoluted, unfortunate, and extraordinary events, I was able to become an archmage and even the servant of Death – yes, that Death. But after a terrible mission, I chose to be reborn in a new dimension. We had no System in my world and Levi Ironwood’s System was already locked in this one; that’s why I’m still level 14. Thankfully, my magic remains unfettered.”
Ayla regarded him with wide eyes. “But… You… Reincarnation? Death? What?”
Unlike Qorbin or Anastasia, she had neither the knowledge nor experience to instantly absorb and accept the knowledge. It took her a while to process and understand his words. Once she did, though… “If you reincarnated into my older brother’s body…” Her voice was tinged with confusion and fear. “Then what happened to him?”
“When I first awoke in his body, I found an empty glass bottle of troches and a single note on the nightstand next to his bed.”
Ayla stared at him blankly for a moment. Then, slowly, her eyes widened in horrified comprehension. “Wait, you don’t mean…”
“The note said only two words,” Levi said. “At the time, I didn’t know for whom they were meant. But now… I have an idea.” He looked at Ayla. “I think he wanted to let you know that he was sorry.”
Ayla let out a choked sound. “He… He’s really…” She didn’t seem able to finish the sentence.
Levi gave a single nod. Ayla’s face twisted with pain, and Levi’s heart tightened as he recognized the familiar look of guilt and self-hatred flash across her expression. Her grey eyes filled with anguish… It looked identical to his own.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Levi said. “I don’t know the circumstances that led up to it, but… His choice was his own. There was nothing you could’ve done–”
“Don’t!” Ayla snapped. “You can’t say that – you can’t know that. You don’t know what I said to him in the past, you don’t know how I treated him, you don’t know –” She cut off as, somehow, her eyes widened even more. “Oh Goddess. You said his System was already locked? So when he failed his classes and got disinherited… It was because of his System?”
Levi’s expression could’ve been carved from granite. He nodded. “It appears so.”
A tortured sound tore its way out of Ayla’s lips. “I…” Her face crumpled. “You’re wrong. It was my fault–”
“It wasn’t,” Levi said, his voice suddenly harder than steel.
“How do you know that?” Ayla shouted back. She wasn’t even trying to suppress her emotions at this point; her eyes were bright with unshed tears and her entire body was shaking.
“Because we are reflections of the same soul,” Levi said. “We may have had a different upbringing, we may have had different experiences, that is true. But I know myself, I know that whatever decisions I make are my own – and if he is anything like me, then he would think the same.” Favorite stories from the Age of Heroes, huh? Perhaps they were more similar than Levi had thought. “There is no world where Levi, any Levi, would blame someone else for his actions.” His gaze softened. “Much less his own little sister.”
“I…” Ayla didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. She faltered, but her emotions were too strong, and she continued. “Then why?” she demanded. “Why did you even save me from Father? I’m just a stranger to you. Why would you risk making an enemy out of a marquis, burn and salt a bridge to the ground, just to help someone you don’t even know?”
“Because I saw you were being hurt,” Levi said. “Because it’s only natural to want to save someone in front of me.”
Ayla paused, taken aback.
“And because…” Levi closed his eyes for a moment, recalling ever-distant memories, before opening them again. “When I awoke in your brother’s body, I swore to carry on where he left off. It’s because of him that I’m able to get a second chance. For that, I’ll make sure to honor that promise no matter what. And… I don’t know what your relationship with him was before, but…”
He pressed a hand to his heart. “The love he felt for you was true and genuine. It’s engraved into the body itself, carved so deeply that I can feel it affecting me even now. Emotions persist even after death, it’s a phenomenon that transcends magic at times – and that is why I know for certain that he doesn’t blame you one single bit. His emotions are strong, strong enough that I now feel them as if they were my own.”
Ayla stared at him, speechless.
“He cared for you,” Levi said. “He loves you, even now. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“... do you really think so?” her voice was barely a murmur.
Levi nodded, an absolute conviction in his gaze. “I know so.”
For a long time, Ayla didn’t respond. Then, she said, “Please forgive me.”
Levi blinked. “What for–? Oof.”
He was cut off as she suddenly surged forward and crashed into him, her arms wrapped around him tightly. She made no sound, but he felt a growing wetness on his shirt. She was shaking, her entire body trembling like a leaf in a storm.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly. “Trust me. There was nothing you could’ve done.”
“He’s really gone?” She asked, her voice muffled into his shirt. “There’s no way for him to come back?”
Levi let out a long breath. “No,” he said. “Death is final. Absolute.”
Ayla didn’t respond for a moment. Then: “You said that you were a servant of Death. Is it scary to die? Is death painful?”
Levi was silent for a long moment.
“No,” he finally said. “Death may hate doing paperwork, and he may be overly theatrical at times, and he may have a habit of making terrible puns, but if there’s one thing I know for certain after serving him, it’s that Death…” His voice softened, and he smiled a gentle smile. “Death is kind. Wherever Levi Ironwood is… I think he’ll be alright.”