Telseuras, Original Sibyl 

The fate of the Sibyls was always the same in the world of the miniature garden.
This story began a long time ago, when the four powers of hope descended upon a girl who wished for people’s happiness.
Her name was Nefeshé.
Wielding the power of God, the girl filled the miniature garden little by little to create the utopia she envisioned – a world where everyone can enjoy equal happiness.
Her blessings spread across to all parts of the world, and the once desolate land began to overflow with blessed rain and lush greenery.
Eventually, the inhabitants of this world worshiped the girl as a goddess who would bring fertility.
The blessings bestowed by the goddess would continue forever – as long as people offered their prayers.

However, within those prayers, among the people who worshiped the goddess, a shadow began to appear.
Like rot spreading from a damaged fruit, it corroded them slowly yet surely.
Peace built upon faith proved surprisingly fragile.
Jealousy and desire are natural emotions, held even by newborn infants.
That is why.
As long as people are people, peace is only a fleeting illusion.

The people of the Holy City of Alesandia were enjoying their peace, unaware of anything.
Beside Nefeshé, who was worshiped by them, there was a girl.
With a gentle smile on her face, she combed Nefeshé’s hair with practiced ease.
Everyday life was the same as before.
But the girl was hiding a secret beneath that smile.

The capital of Luthra was the Holy City of Alesandia.
A high mountain stood close to it, watching over the capital from impending disasters from the outside world.
Nefeshé lived in a sturdy palace built on the peak of that mountain.

In order for the country to maintain its form, many duties had to be performed.
Especially if one was worshiped as a god.
Nefeshé busily moved around the palace with practiced ease.
On that day, she was waiting for the opinions of the nobles and receiving regular reports from the Central Council.
A young girl, Telseuras, was following her closely.

“Next is the White Lily Room, Lady Nefeshé. Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m fine. I still have plans.”
“But… it seems that you’ve been falling asleep lately…”

As Nefeshé possessed the power of hope, she didn’t age and didn’t need sleep, in theory.

“That does happen sometimes. But these past few days… Whenever I go to sleep I’ve been having strange dreams… It’s like I can hear a mysterious voice coming from somewhere…”

Hearing this, Telseuras turned a worried face toward her.

“If you’re falling asleep, that’s surely proof that you’re tired. If it’s about political affairs, I can contact the Central Council immediately…”
“Thank you. But I’m really fine. Now, let’s put this talk aside and hurry.”

Nefeshé smiled in response to Telseuras’ question.
Her expression clearly showed the deep trust she placed in Telseuras.

Telseuras knew almost nothing of the world outside the palace.
She was born into a family of servants who had served Nefeshé for generations, spending their entire lives within the palace walls.
Following in the footsteps of her ancestors, who had even more extraordinary faith than the people of Luthra, Telseuras dedicated her life to being a servant. Yet, exceptionally intelligent even among them, she was chosen to serve Nefeshé at an exceptionally young age. Since then, she had served at the goddess’s very side, attending to every need.
It is no exaggeration to say that Telseuras was the person Nefeshé trusted the most.

One day, in the prayer room of the palace…
Telseuras leaned out the large bay window, peering down at the townscape spread out below.
The sounds of bells and drums, loud enough to be heard even atop the mountain, resounded, and colorful flags fluttered throughout the streets.

“Lady Nefeshé, the town is very lively.”
“Is that so? Everyone is doing this for me… I’m grateful to them.”
“Yes, truly…”

Today, the whole country was celebrating Nefeshé’s birthday with great pomp.
Normally, Nefeshé offered prayers for fertility within the palace, but this was the only day when she appeared before the people – meaning it was a festival where they could meet with God, and they were extremely enthusiastic.
It was the only day that Telseuras and the attendants were allowed to leave the palace, and it should have been a day of great joy for her.
However, as Telseuras smiles at Nefeshé, her expression was somewhat stiff.
Hidden within her was a sad vision of the future.
Was it going to come true?
This birthday festival was the day of judgment.

Several months earlier…
Telseuras had been summoned by a young guard, Avenius.
They shared similar circumstances, since Avenius had served Nefeshé with her martial arts skills since childhood.
The two were like childhood friends, in a sense.
But their frequent interactions were precisely from those days of youth. When summoned without warning, and especially with the request, “Come late at night, so no one finds you,” Telseuras couldn’t help but be wary.

The palace lay silent in the dead of night.
Telseuras, in her position as an attendant, made her way to the designated location without arousing suspicion from the guards on duty.
Beneath the palace, there was a huge irrigation channel carved into the mountain.
Avenius was waiting in this dim place, where only the intermittent sound of dripping water echoed.

“It’s been a while. What business brings you here at this hour?”
“At least you can tell that it’s not for anything romantic.”
“I’m not in the mood for jokes. Please get straight to the point.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

It wasn’t a personal matter; it was likely something unpleasant.
Telseuras had a vague suspicion, but the words that followed far exceeded his expectations.

“There’s a plan… to assassinate Lady Nefeshé.”
“What…!?”

A plan to assassinate Nefeshé. The execution date was set for her birthday, and worse still, Avenius herself had been chosen as the perpetrator.
Despite the disturbing nature of the information, she explained it calmly.
Telseuras was shocked and speechless, but Avenius continued.

“I plan to use this opportunity to overthrow the Central Council… and this country.”

While Luthra currently presented itself as a religious state centered around the Aterima faith that revered Nefeshé, the actual power lay with the Central Council, the governing body managing the nation.
The Central Council, viewing Nefeshé’s existence as a nuisance, had plotted her assassination, selecting Avenius as the executor.
However, Avenius did not swear allegiance to the Central Council.
She swore allegiance to only one thing.
And that was the Aterima faith, and Nefeshé herself.
While disguised as the executor, she planned to start a riot on her birthday, overthrow the Central Council, and rebuild the country into one centered on the Aterima faith, just like Luthra was before.

“Telseuras, you are the one closest to Lady Nefeshé. I needed to let you know about this plan. I want you to protect Lady Nefeshé on her birthday.”

There was no objection to protecting Nefeshé.
Yet, Telseuras flashed a fleeting look of dismay.
She knew it. She already knew it.
The Central Council’s motive for assassinating Nefeshé.

Perhaps noticing her confusion, Avenius turned her suspicious eyes towards Telseuras.
Her wide eyes were shining brightly, and filled with heat.
She had been like that since she was a child. She would use any means necessary to achieve her ideals.
Telseuras knew the danger of that.
Now it would be wise to agree.
With that in mind, she had no choice but to slowly nod her head.

Nefeshé’s servants were generally not allowed to get involved in government affairs.
But as the person closest to Nefeshé, Telseuras had to remain sensitive to political movements within the Central Council and the Aterima faith.
This was out of her desire to protect Nefeshé, but she was far too perceptive.
Telseuras pondered daily.
Politics, economy, the lives of the people.
She carefully organized the information she heard on a daily basis, deducing the problems plaguing this nation.
What did the Central Council want to do?
Why were they plotting to assassinate Nefeshé?

The utopia that Nefeshé advocated was one in which everyone could enjoy equal happiness.
On the flip side, this meant that it was a parallel line that never changes.
The land overflowing with nature was considered Nefeshé’s personal property; its development was forbidden. Furthermore, it was out of the question to artificially increase or decrease the number of creatures living on that soil for the benefit of humans.
However, as the people’s lives became more stable, Luthra’s population continued to grow rapidly.
It was only a matter of time before various issues, such as the land to accommodate the growing population and the food to sustain them, reached their limits.

It was not just Luthra itself that was of concern.
When Luthra was first founded, foreign countries sought custody of Nefeshé in an attempt to gain control of the goddess of fertility.
Luthra tried to suppress this with force, but Nefeshé admonished them.
A compromise was reached between the various parties’ intentions and claims, and a pact was signed.

“In exchange for the right to equally receive Nefeshé’s blessings, foreign nations shall not interfere with or invade Luthra.”

Under this pact, the countries – especially Luthra – enjoyed peace. Yet, this peace would crumble with the passage of time.
Having relinquished Nefeshé, other nations were permitted to develop freely and steadily grew in power. They now possessed engineering and military strength surpassing Luthra’s. This was too much of a threat.
As a countermeasure, Luthra used the pact and Nefeshé’s existence as leverage, dangling the threat of withdrawing the fertile soil granted to other nations as its trump card.
Nefeshé herself would never permit such a thing, but Luthra had managed to maintain this deterrence without revealing its true intentions.

In the world ruled by Nefeshé, equality takes top priority, and development is not allowed.
But now Luthra was caught between problems that she did not foresee.

Should she choose God? Or the people?

To fully reclaim the power of decision from God to the people, and to develop this nation into a richer one.
The Central Council’s plan to assassinate Nefeshé was a decision made precisely because they cared about the future of the people.

Telseuras had strong faith in Aterima, and in Nefeshé.
But it was clear that if things continued as they were, many people would suffer.
A choice remained for this country.
No matter which path was chosen, the outcome would have been tragic.
Telseuras was particularly wise among her family, and could think things through for herself.
It was the reason she could not abandon her own reasoning in the name of faith.

“What should I do…”

The cruel scales continued to sway back and forth within Telseuras.

And then, the day of birthday celebration arrived.
In front of the cathedral in Alesandia, the capital of Luthra, a venue was set up to celebrate the birthday, and people threw words of blessing at Nefeshé in their own way.
Standing half a step behind Nefeshé, who waved back in response, Telseuras was overly nervous.

“When the prayer bell rings, that’s the signal. You must take Lady Nefeshé and run away.”

On that day, Telseuras had received that order from Avenius.
The birthday celebration was proceeding as planned.
It was almost time for prayer.

Failure is not an option.

From the top of the church, the sound of bells, cool and tinged with bronze dullness, enveloped the city.
In an instant, the guards surrounding the venue in a fan formation drew their swords simultaneously.
It was not just Avenius who had been chosen to carry out the assassination of Nefeshé, but all the guards who shared the same resolve.
Amid the fervor of the birthday celebration, the people had not yet noticed anything unusual. Some cheered, thinking it was a spectacle.
Unconcerned with them, the guards fixed their blades straight ahead.
Not at Nefeshé – but at the seats where the high-ranking officials of the Central Council were sitting.
As the guards closed the distance, the officials grew pale.
Perhaps realizing that something was wrong, the murmur that arose among the people spread in an instant, plunging the venue into chaos.
“This will change the country,” thought Avenius, as she raised her sword.

“Lady Nefeshé!!”

A clear, piercing female voice rang out from among the people, echoing through the hall.
The guards were puzzled by the tone of the voice.
The sword was not pointed at Nefeshé.
Something was wrong.
Everyone looked in the direction the voice was pointing.

“I’m sorry.”

There, Nefeshé collapsed, her pure white dress dyed red and her hair disheveled.
And standing there with his face bowed was Telseuras, holding a knife the same red as her dress.

Telseuras made a choice. A future that can be grasped by humans like herself, rather than relying on gods.
Killing Nefeshé would surely cost her her own life.
Still, rather than slowly decaying in a dilemma, she chose her homeland’s people and the future.

It wasn’t that she had abandoned her faith in Nefeshé.
No matter what benefits were offered, her resolve would not waver.
Rather, it was precisely because she desired the world’s happiness so deeply that she had been chosen by God.
Telseuras, who had watched Nefeshé more closely than anyone else, understood this.
She did not want Nefeshé, who had wished for happiness so purely, even obsessively, to witness the world crumbling due to her own powerlessness.
It was a choice made out of love, rather than faith in Nefeshé.

Telseuras dropped to her knees and reached out to embrace Nefeshé, covered in blood.
Even though she had killed her with her own hands, she still couldn’t believe that she had become a corpse.
She embraced her tenderly.

“Lady Nefeshé… To protect this country and its people, I had no choice but to do this…”

Just as Telseuras whispered those words,
the tables placed throughout the hall rattled and shook slightly, then a fierce rumbling erupted from deep within the earth.
The rebellion against the Central Council, Nefeshé’s death by a murderous blade, and the earth’s upheaval.
With these events occurring one after another, Luthra fell into a whirlpool of confusion.
The rumbling continued to produce a low, ominous sound.
It was like the growl of a ferocious beast.

The people of Luthra, the high officials, the guards, and Telseuras.
Everyone was in a panic, unable to comprehend the situation.
In the midst of this, Nefeshé’s fallen body twitched.
Her blood-stained dress rose and fell as she regained her breath, albeit faintly.

If Nefeshé was just an ordinary girl, Telseuras’ blade would have been fatal.
But she was no ordinary girl.
She was a goddess who wielded the four powers of hope.

The powers of hope began to perform life-saving measures on Nefeshé’s body.
Slowly, very slowly, the flowing blood stopped, and her shallow breathing regained its rhythm.
The scene was unmistakably the power of a god.

However, this did not resolve the situation.
As everyone held their breath, the four hopes dwelling within Nefeshé demonstrated further power.
A defensive reaction toward the girl serving as their vessel.
Judging Telseuras as the one who had hurt Nefeshé, the four hopes attempted to unleash their power upon her.
Fire, water, earth, wind.
Countless tendrils of light, a mixture of all the powers that control nature, stretched out from Nefeshé’s body and attacked Telseuras.
Sensing her own death, Telseuras closed her eyes.
But no matter how long she waited, she felt no harm.

“Stop… it…”

Hearing that familiar voice, Telseuras instinctively opened her eyes.
Before her gaze was Nefeshé, struggling in agony.
Nefeshé was trying to suppress the defensive reaction of her hope power.
She didn’t want to hurt anyone.
She didn’t want to use her divine power for anything other than bringing happiness to the world.
Despite the events that threatened her very life, Nefeshé’s spirit did not break.

But the power of hope was not something that Nefeshé could fully contain.
With nowhere to go, the power ran wild within her body, ravaging it.

“Ah… ugh… it hurts…”

Nefeshé coughed up blood, her body was torn apart, and her skin was festering as she writhed in agony.
Faced with this horrific sight, not only the masses but even some of the high-ranking officials and palace officials fled in fear.
But Telseuras stood motionless beside Nefeshé, tears streaming down her face as she stared blankly at the scene.

Telseuras did not know.
This was the true strength of God’s power.
It was not something that could be controlled by shallow human thought.

Eventually, the devastation caused by the power of God subsided, and Nefeshé, barely retaining her human form, collapsed near Telseuras.
The area fell silent, and everyone stood there in a daze, as if they had been dreaming.

She had felt the power of God, and Nefeshé’s love, so deeply that it painfully hurted.
Therefore, in that moment,
as if apologizing for having done something irreparable,
Telseuras embraced Nefeshé’s body tightly.

Telseuras embraced the grievously wounded Nefeshé… and it was at that moment.
She felt something flowing from Nefeshé into her chest.
Instantly, the surrounding trees rustled without wind, and then, radiating out from her own body, grass and flowers began to sprout.
The flowers blossomed and withered, blossomed and withered, repeating their life cycle in an instant as they cracked the hard cobblestones.
Before she knew it, Nefeshé’s body, held in her arms, was completely healed despite the severe injuries.

Telseuras knew something about this phenomenon.
A legend that had been passed down from generation to generation.
A miracle in which the power of hope descended upon a certain young girl.
The scene that unfolded before her eyes was exactly the same as the one in the legend.
At the same time, Telseuras realized another truth.
The something that had flowed into her earlier.
It was part of the power that Nefeshé should have possessed all along.

Nefeshé, whose power of hope had been suppressed and trampled upon, was facing death, the concept of despair shared by all living beings.
A mere knife wound could not kill Nefeshé, who housed a god.
But being hurt by the very power that she was supposed to protect was an exception.
In that moment of despair, one strand of hope’s power peeled away from Nefeshé.
Without anywhere to go, the power sought its next vessel.
It was being drawn to Telseuras’ hope of “seizing the future with our own hands.”

But Telseuras still could not accept reality.
As if in response to the confusion, the power of earth began to shake the ground.
The tremors grew so strong that she was knocked to her knees, and the ground of the holy city of Alesandia split into several pieces, creating a deep valley that was impossible to cross, separating Telseuras and Nefeshé.

“LADY NEFESHÉ!!”

Telseuras shouted, calling out the name of her master.
Even now, she acted as if she were still her servant.

As the tremors subsided, those left behind began to regain their composure.
They were already thinking about what to do next and trying to take action.

The people of Luthra, including those who had been left behind, had seen it with their own eyes.
The power of hope was not granted solely to Nefeshé.
The power of hope could be taken.
It was a fact.

High-ranking officials of the Central Council who saw the current situation as an opportunity, radical Aterima followers who opposed them, and those with ugly ambitions.
They all attacked Nefeshé all at once.
Guards fought desperately to protect her. Among them was Avenius.
Everyone’s faces were contorted, and they were exchanging violence drenched in desire.
It was a scene that could hardly be called an utopia.
Left on the opposite bank of the valley, across the cracked earth, Telseuras could do nothing but watch.

All of this… Is my punishment for trying to oppress God…
The country of God, the country of the people… I have destroyed Luthra to the point I can no longer utter such nonsense…
Oh, Lady Nefeshé…
Please, at least remember these feelings I have for you…
Please…

No one had taught her this. But somehow Telseuras understood.
How to use her divine powers.

“Lady Nefeshé… let me perform my final task as your servant… once this is done, I will be taking a long break…”

Telseuras slowly extended one hand towards the men fighting on the opposite bank.
In an instant, thick vines grew out of the ground, knocking back those attacking Nefeshé, then wrapped around their bodies, pinning them to the stone pavement like stitches.
Telseuras then extended her other arm.
This time, countless trees began to grow from the cliff on the opposite bank where Nefeshé and the others were, forming a bridge connecting the cliffs.
It did not extend towards Telseuras, but towards the road leading out of Luthra.
Urging the stunned Avenius, Telseuras spoke.

“It’s dangerous to remain in Luthra. Please take Lady Nefeshé and escape.”
“You…!”

Avenius glared at Telseuras in anger.
Even if she had received help, Telseuras herself was the root cause of the betrayal of her plan.
Above all, Avenius could not forgive Telseuras for hurting Nefeshé, whom she worshiped with fanatical devotion.
But now there was something she had to do.
Still glaring at Telseuras, Avenius gave orders to the other guards.
Then she picked up Nefeshé and crossed the bridge of trees to leave Luthra.
After watching them leave, Telseuras muttered to herself in the birthday festival venue, which had lost its former splendor just a short time ago.

“Please stay safe… and farewell…”

With the loss of Nefeshé, the goddess of fertility, Luthra was in a state of devastation.
But soon after, the great sinner who had usurped God would come to rule Luthra as its new monarch…
Yet none knew this yet.