Selenia is the Priestess of the Holy Song, the last survivor of the destroyed Order of the Starsilver. During the final battle against the forces of Halleb, the Caretaker of the Dead, she was suddenly sent back in time seven years in the past, during the time when peace was cheap and lives were flourishing. Yet for Selenia, there is no peace or happiness, for she knows what will happen seven years later and she pledges to prevent that at all cost. Seven Years of Hope Chapter 6 A New Start By Shiina Ai

Sister Jihan falls back down on her chair, stunned by the one name she didn't expect me to mention. It was really a shot in the dark. While the surviving bloodline of King Frost had scattered to the four corners of the map, it was still possible to find two who carried the bloodline in the same city, however diluted they would be. At least, that was the case before the Doom March started.

"I have never heard of that name," the high priestess says, clearly denying her connection to both Duke Rarnwad and his heir Erlesion.

It is foolish to deny the connection. While she may have her own reasons, her reasons pale in significance to the doom of our world. There are two simple reasons why I believed the high priestess is connected to them.

"Erlesion told me he never knew his real mother. She left a month after he was born. He should be ten years old now. I also happen to know that you came to the Sanctuary ten years ago. Was I wrong?"

She gets up from her chair, her face a mix of emotions as she walks to the window and looks outside. With her back to me, she asks with a small voice, "Is he well?"

The question was almost too quiet to hear. It was as if she was trying to speak normally, but something inside her restrained it. I wonder what happened in the past. As Erlesion never met his real mother, I have no way of knowing the story behind how Sister Jihan ended up leaving her newborn child behind and seeking shelter with the Starsilver.

"He died in the ambush at Selemir Road six years from now. I was there when it happened."

"I see..." her voice flat, but the trembles in the end betray her emotions.

I still remember that day. We were accompanying the 5th Malrim Army to deliver a relic called The Migration of Spring to reinforce the recently built border fortress Whiterock. We were ambushed by blade demons and undead right after passing the split in the road that led to a small lumber cutter village in the forest.

While the number of the blade demons and undead were double our number, it wasn't too big of a problem. All the members of my party back then were battle veterans, each having felled hundreds of blade demons and even more undead for the past years. However, none of us could prepare ourselves for the attack from three lichs, each having the power to best my entire party.

The melee happened so quickly that I was not able to perform my dance. The battle was joined so quickly that our Priestess of the Holy Light, Aramantine Caludell, could not even cast her protection spell. It was so quick that our support archer, Clemindel, had his life drained within a minute of the battle. Although we won, the victory was pyrrhic at best.

We did not defeat any of the lichs. We did not drive away the undead. They simply left after they had killed many of us. It was as if they took pity on us. Imagine that, lichs taking pity on the living.

We were cautious as we travelled to the closest city. That delayed us so much that many of our injured ones lost their lives while on the road. Erlesion was one of those who lost his life after the battle, he was only sixteen summers at that time.

"Sis... ter." He called my name right after the battle.

"Sis... sister." He called me again and this time I was right beside him on my knees, the clean white silk dress I wore stained by the blood on the ground.

"Erle, don't speak. You're going to be fine."

It was a lie. He was not going to be fine. How could someone who had a gaping hole in his stomach be fine? But it was my duty.

I who could do nothing. I who had no power. I who depended on others. I who merely did what the people in power wanted. I who was the puppet of the kings, priests and nobles. What could I do apart from easing their deaths? What could I offer other than lies and empty promises that everything was going to be alright?

I had done it so many times, I no longer thought differently. It had become second nature. My second nature. To lie to people in their final moments. To sing the Call of the Dead Queen. It was my duty, a duty that I myself undertook. The only duty I was not told to do, but one that was the only thing I could do.

I was never trained in swords. I was never trained in magic. I was never trained in diplomacy. I was never trained in healing. All my life, I was trained to appease the gods, but even that education was lacking. In my previous life when I had to escape the Sanctuary of the Starsilver, I was only a priestess with the rank and position of Scribe. All I did was copy old tomes so that the Sanctuary could sell them for gold coins.

Yes, I did learn a lot from those old tomes. But without the physical strength, I could not apply the martial skills. Without the mana required, I could not cast the grand spells even if I had practiced them. Without influence or power, I could not use the knowledge of statehood and diplomacy. If Duke Rarnwad hadn't recognized my raiment when I was lying hungry and wounded from fending off the scum of society in the back streets of Kellomis, would I even have lived past the month after escaping from the Sanctuary?

Yet, four years later, I would watch the boy who came to see me as his older sister die. And there was nothing I could do but to tell him that he would be okay. It was the same lie that I had spoken so many times. Yet, why did this one feel so painful?

"Khok khok..." he coughed, spraying blood in the air. With his mouth covered in fresh blood, he said with as much coherence as he could, "Sis... sorry."

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for! It was my fault! If I could only fight, I could've at least been of some help. But without my song and dance magic, I have nothing. Nothing at all! I am useless. Useless!"

"Sis... where," he coughed again, the reddish stain on his face grew. I tried to wipe it with the sleeves of my dress, but the only thing it did was smear the blood from one cold cheek to the other.

"Sis... can't... see... where?" Erle asked as his eyes clouded over. The black in his eyes slowly turned grey, a sign of approaching parting.

"I'm here!" I quickly caught his hand with both of mine and raised it to his face. "See, I'm here. I'm right beside you, Erle. I will never leave you behind. Never, you know I won't. You'll be fine."

"Sis... not... fault... I..."

"Don't speak. It will be fine. We will be fine. We will go home."

"Take... for you..." Erle suddenly went silent. I shook his body, but it only caused more blood to drip from the hole in his stomach.

"ERLE!!! Don't go! Please Erle, don't you leave me too. Erle, please, hold on a little longer."

I buried my face in his chest. The steel plate he wore was covered in slick, drying blood, mostly his own. Hugging him by his armour, I could only blame myself. If I didn't have the grand goal of avenging my friends at the Sanctuary. If I didn't tell him I would avenge Aria. If I did not make it sound as if my vengeance was such a noble endeavour, would he have joined me in this pointless quest? If he did not follow me, wouldn't he have stayed in the castle, perfectly safe in the comfort of his own home, his maids, his knights and his parents?

"O gods, if you still have any mercy left for me, please don't take Erle away from me too. Goddess of Life Amman, please spare a speck of your power, just a little, and allow my brother to live for a little longer. Goddess of Death Halleb, please do not take my brother so soon. Please give me another chance, for this is my sin and mine alone. Must you do this to me again?"

"Do not cry, sister."

"Erle?!" I raised my head, relief washed over me. I thought the gods finally showed mercy on me. But no, the gods did no such thing. Erle was still. Erle remained dead. His body cold, freezing.

"It is not your fault, big sister. I chose this."

"Erle?"

"Yes, it is me. But I will not be here much longer."

"Erle, I'm sorry. I'm very sorry."

"I never blamed you, sister. I am happy. I died protecting the person I cared for the most. It is not a long life, but for the time I have lived. I've felt what it meant to be loved, the warmth of my father, my mother and my sister. I've gotten to know what it feels to have a sibling. I've gotten to know the feeling of adventure together with my sister."

"Erle..." I didn't know what else to say as I cried against his armour, now so cold it was like hugging a block of ice.

"I have to go, sister. This is all I can give you. I hope my power can continue to protect you even after I'm gone. Goodbye, sister."

"Erle! No!"

I cried against the sky, but as my tears froze, I noticed the strange coldness that should not have existed here, at this moment. I opened my eyes and as my tears dried into ice, his corpse under me turned as white as virgin snow. Then his corpse exploded and the snow that was his body flew outward, floating around me. The floating snow that was white and pure, just like Erle, spun fast around me like a hurricane. Just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared, leaving a strange coldness around my body. It was the same coldness I have felt whenever I touched Erle. It was the same comforting coldness as Erle in the summer. It felt like I was being embraced by Erle.

Erle, my little brother. We did not come from the same blood, not from the same origin, nor from the same fate, but you are certainly my one and only little brother. Your big sister will do her best this time, do it differently, so that the same outcome will not happen again.

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*Thank you Eric for editing this chapter.
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**** The next chapter of Age of Gods Online will probably come out within 2 weeks. Hopefully it can come out next week, but I've been so busy with work.