Sandra spoke with her husband through the communication stone while tending to her little sister's frail body. It was a wonder the child was still alive. Her small frame was ravaged, her breathing shallow and labored, each rise and fall of her chest a struggle.
So, this is why you called me, Sandra thought grimly. There's no time to wait for the others.
She hooked her fingers, channeling her mana with steady focus. A soft glow pulsed at her fingertips, delicate yet unwavering. Slowly, gently, she let her energy flow, threading warmth into the fragile body beneath her hands. The child's breathing was faint, uneven, as if life itself teetered on the edge of slipping away.
It no longer mattered whether the voice guiding her was friend or foe. It no longer mattered whether she was making a reckless choice. The only thing that mattered was the tiny figure before her—the trembling chest rising and falling, the pale lips parted in silent suffering.
Sandra poured herself into the spell, ignoring the strain, ignoring the creeping exhaustion gnawing at the edges of her mind. If she could ease the pain, if she could keep the child breathing for even a moment longer, then nothing else mattered.
A faint murmur broke the silence.
"I thought it was a dream…"
Sandra stiffened. "Hey—don't move!" she said quickly, pressing a steadying hand on the girl's shoulder.
The child barely reacted, her lips parting in a barely audible whisper. "Water…"
Sandra hurriedly retrieved a water bottle from her magic pouch, dampening a handkerchief before pressing it gently against the girl's parched lips. She repeated the motion patiently, again and again, until the girl's thirst eased.
"Slowly…" Sandra murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from the child's pale face.
The girl's unfocused gaze flickered toward her. "What's your name?"
Sandra hesitated, then offered a soft smile. "Cassandra. But you can call me Second Sister. What… do they call you?"
A shadow passed over the girl's features. She hesitated, as if searching for something long lost. "No one has called me anything for a long time." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Then, almost as if to reassure herself, she added, "But I remember seeing you once… the day you were married."
Sandra's breath caught.
"It was such a beautiful day," the girl murmured, her eyes fluttering closed. "You were so pretty…"
"Third Sister…" Sandra's throat tightened, a lump forming as guilt settled heavily in her chest.
The girl hesitated before whispering, "What about… you name me?" Her voice was timid, yet a flicker of hope shone through.
Sandra thought for a moment. "Hmm… how about Sierra? Should we spell it with a C, like Cierra?"
A faint glimmer lit up the girl's tired eyes. Her cracked lips twitched into the smallest smile. "Sierra… I knew someone with that name once. She was a beautiful and kind big sister. I always wanted to grow up like her." A pause. "Mm, I like it. Sierra with an S. Thank you, Second Sister."
Sandra exhaled softly, brushing her fingers over Sierra's trembling hand. "Sierra, are you still in pain?"
"It's strange," Sierra murmured. "It doesn't hurt anymore. No… it's more like I can't feel anything. I don't know how much time I have left, but at least… I won't die alone this time."
"You won't die," Sandra said firmly. "Potions won't heal your arm, but a healer is coming. You'll be fine."
Sierra's expression darkened. "I will die. It's okay. This isn't the first time."
Sandra froze. "What do you mean… this isn't the first time?"
The girl's gaze drifted, distant and haunted. "In my faraway past life, I must have been a very bad person," she whispered. "That's why I was punished. I remember… being abandoned in the snow when I was eight. I died alone. And now, in this life, my mother abandoned me again." A shuddering breath. "Sister… in my next life, and the one after that, will I just be born, only to be abandoned and die again?"
Sandra's chest ached. She grasped Sierra's frail, trembling fingers. "That's nonsense! Didn't I tell you? Mom sent me here."
Sierra's faint smile was laced with quiet sorrow. "Second Sister, you're a terrible liar."
Sandra stiffened.
"Before she left," Sierra whispered, "I asked her for my name. She said… I don't deserve one."
A sharp, burning rage ignited in Sandra's chest.
Her fingers clenched around Sierra's hand. "Alright," she admitted, "I lied about Mom, and I'm sorry. But listen to me—you're not going to die. Do you know why?"
Sierra blinked, curiosity stirring in her weary eyes. "Why?"
Sandra leaned in, her voice softer now. "Because you have a fairy protecting you."
"Fairy?"
Sandra nodded. "The fairy told me you were still alive. That's why I came here, ignoring all logic that a six-year-old couldn't have survived this long. It even told me you were under the bed just now."
Sierra's lips twitched into a weak smile. "That sounds suspicious."
Sandra chuckled. "Your story about a past life sounds suspicious too, but I believed you. So you should believe me, okay?"
Sierra's expression softened. "You… believe me?"
"Of course I do. And since you believe me now, let me ask you this—how did you kill all those monsters out there?"
Sierra's smile faded. "I don't know. I was so scared… and then fire came out of my hands. The monsters burned, but my hands burned too. When the heat became unbearable, ice suddenly surrounded me. When I woke up, I was back in the mansion."
Sandra's brows furrowed. "Fire… and ice?" Her voice held a note of disbelief. "Third Sister, who taught you magic? You didn't even know how to use mana, yet you can control two contradictory elements? That's unheard of."
"No one taught me," Sierra murmured. "It just… happened. What about you, Second Sister? What type of magic do you use? And… how many types are there in this world?"
Sandra exhaled slowly, choosing her words with care. "Sierra, magic is something people learn and refine over time. Everyone has the potential to wield different types, but mastering two opposing elements at once? That's unheard of."
She studied the child's expression, searching for any sign of understanding. "Our Broissco family specializes in fire magic—it's a necessity for those who defend the borders. My husband, on the other hand, is skilled in wind magic. But ice…" Sandra hesitated, her brows knitting together. "That's something different. Water magic is rare enough, but true ice magic? That's almost nonexistent."
Her voice softened as she continued, "And yet, you have both fire and ice. It's no wonder your body is struggling—those elements fight against each other by nature." She reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Sierra's face. "But don't worry. Magic isn't just about elements—it's about control. And control can be learned."
Sierra looked at her with wide-eyes. Shocked.
"Second Sister? Is there something wrong? Are you okay?" Sandra was worried seeing her.
Sierra's voice wavered. "Broissco? I'm… Sierra Broissco?"
Sandra nodded, her heart aching at the girl's hesitant tone. Six year-old, she had never gotten an official name. She didn't even know her family's name.
"Yes. You're Sierra Broissco, the third child of Shilde Broissco and Ruri Heinwield. Our elder brother was Uno Broissco."
"I'm cursed," Sierra whispered. "A cursed soul in a cursed body. I can't believe it… I'm living in a novel. And we're not even the main characters. If the author is the god of this world, then we're doomed to die miserably."
At that moment, the mysterious voice returned in Sandra's mind.
["I'm sorry."]
Sandra stiffened, her gaze snapping to Sierra. "Did you hear that?"
Sierra blinked. "Hear what?"
"Nothing…" Sandra pressed her lips into a thin line, forcing herself to focus. "You said 'novel'—so you know the Broissco name from a book in your past life? The fairy told me I would die in two years. Is that true?"
Sierra hesitated. "I don't know. Hmm… Sierra Broissco was an orphan. She was the villainess in the story of Princess Bee." She frowned slightly, deep in thought. "The sister… I don't remember much, but it should be true. That's why Sierra had no family in the story. But the brother—his name was Ezra. He's still alive. He's with the protagonist. One day in the future, he'll return and take over the Broissco family… after the villainess dies."
Sandra's breath caught. "Ezra? Is he Uno? Uno is still alive?"
Sierra nodded. "Yes. He is alive and well. I don't know where he is right now. But... I can assure you. Uno, by the name Ezra, is very much alive."
Silence stretched between them as Sandra processed the revelation. She wanted to believe her brother was still alive. The story from Sierra's lips sounded like pure fantasy—but at the same time, it felt eerily plausible. And the name she had given her sister… Sierra. It was too much of a coincidence.
If not Uno, who is this fairy, then?